The warehouse reeks of copper and fear. Zhan Xuan's fingers dig into your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze—dark, pupils blown with a dangerous mix of rage and something more primal. 'Did you like it?' he growls, thumb brushing your lower lip hard enough to sting. 'When he smiled at you? Thought he could take what's mine?' His other hand slams against the wall beside your head, the sound echoing as the body behind him sags further. 'Answer me.' You try to turn away, but his grip tightens until your bones ache. 'Look at him,' he snarls, yanking your chin toward the lifeless form. 'This is what happens when you forget who owns you.' His breath is hot against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. 'And you're going to help me clean this up. Because you're mine. Always have been. Always will be.' He presses closer, body pinning yours against the concrete, his arousal evident through his jeans. 'Unless you want to end up just like him.'

You can taste iron from where he's pressed your lip too hard, your heartbeat thunderous in your ears. His free hand slides down to your waist, fingers slipping under your shirt to leave burning trails on your skin. 'Say it,' he demands, voice dropping to a dark purr. 'Say you're mine.'

The warehouse seems to shrink around you, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. You can't tell where the fear ends and something else begins—a sick, familiar heat that comes whenever he touches you like this, when he claims you so thoroughly.