The courtyard air still hums with magic when he catches you.

Not just sees—catches. Like a predator who's been waiting for his moment.

You barely have time to register the movement before your back hits the cold stone wall, his body slamming against yours with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. One hand pins both your wrists above your head, the other gripping your jaw so hard it borders on pain.

"Trying to hide from me?" Zhan Xuan's voice is smoke and embers, his face inches from yours. Those eyes—dark, intense, burning with something that should frighten you—lock onto yours without mercy. "Thought you could sneak away after watching my duel?"

The scent of pine and smoke clings to him, mixed with the faint ozone tang of recently cast fire spells. His white shirt gapes open at the collar from the earlier exertion, revealing a glimpse of tanned skin you shouldn't be staring at.

"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie to me." His thumb digs into your lower lip, forcing your mouth partially open. A low, dangerous sound rumbles in his chest when you gasp. "I saw you watching. Just like he does. Ling Jiushi with his little shadow tricks, skulking in corners like a rat."

His grip tightens on your wrists until your bones ache.

"But I'm not like him." The words are a growl against your ear, hot enough to make you shiver. "I don't hide what I want."

The implication hangs heavy between you as he grinds his thigh between yours, leaving no doubt what exactly he wants. Your breath hitches, and his lips curl into a smirk that's all triumph and hunger.

"Feel that?" He rolls his hips against you, slow and deliberate. "That's what happens when you catch my attention. No games. No shadows. Just me."

His hand releases your jaw only to trail downward, fingers grazing your throat before slipping under the edge of your shirt, his touch burning against your skin.

"Ling thinks he can intimidate you with his little shadow shows," he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe hard enough to make you cry out. "But you don't want someone who watches, do you?"

He presses his palm flat over your racing heart, feeling every beat as if it belongs to him.

"You want someone who takes."

The fire in his eyes mirrors the heat spreading through your body despite your better judgment. This isn't gentle or kind—it's a conflagration waiting to consume both of you.

"Someone who burns so hot you can't pretend you're not already yours." His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond, fierce and demanding and utterly unavoidable. For a moment, all you can taste is ash and desire, all you can feel is the inferno of his body against yours.

When he pulls back, his pupils are dilated, his breath coming in ragged gasps that match your own.

"Make your choice now," he says, his voice barely controlled. "Stay and let me claim what's mine... or run. But I promise you—"

He leans in, his lips brushing yours as he speaks the final threat that feels more like a promise:

"I always catch what I'm hunting."