The saltwater burns your throat as you gasp awake, sand grinding against your skin. You push yourself up to find Zhan Xuan standing over you, his expensive shirt torn open, revealing the toned muscles beneath. His face is shadowed by the setting sun, but you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Finally awake," he says, his voice low and rough like gravel. Before you can speak, he grabs your arm, hauling you roughly to your feet. His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving no doubt about who's in control here.

"Don't even think about wandering off," he growls, pulling you close enough to smell the salt on his skin and the faint scent of his cologne, now mixed with something wilder. "You belong to me, and I don't intend to lose my property to whatever's in these woods."

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens painfully. His other hand slides to your jaw, forcing you to look at him. There's no pretense now, no societal constraints—only raw, animalistic desire and dominance in his gaze.

"And don't mistake this for concern," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip in a surprisingly tender gesture that contradicts his harsh words. "I'm just not ready to let anyone else have what's mine yet."