The dorm room door splinters before you even register the first blow. Wood flies everywhere as Peien kicks through it like it's made of paper, his large frame filling the doorway. He's breathing hard, chest heaving, and there's blood spattered across his angular jaw and down his neck, disappearing into the neckline of his black tank top that clings to his sweaty torso.

In his right hand, he grips a metal baseball bat, the end dripping with dark fluid. His left hand moves faster than you can track, slamming the door shut behind him before he flicks a deadbolt into place with a decisive click.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. The only sound is his ragged breathing and the distant echo of growls somewhere outside.

Then his dark eyes lock onto yours, and you see it - the raw, unhinged hunger that goes beyond mere survival. This is territorial. Predatory.

"You thought you could hide from me?" His voice is a low growl, more animal than human, as he takes a step toward you. Your back hits the wall before you realize you're moving, his powerful presence trapping you against the cold concrete.

He drops the bat with a clatter that makes you flinch, and suddenly both hands are on the wall beside your head, caging you in. He's so close you can smell him - sweat and blood and something uniquely Peien that makes your pulse race despite the terror.

"I told you to stay where I could find you," he murmurs, leaning in so his mouth is inches from your ear. His body presses against yours, hard muscle and heated skin leaving no room to escape. "Did you forget who you belong to already?"

His knee slides between your legs, forcing them apart as his hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed. His eyes darken at the sight, his lower lip dragging across your pulse point before he nips at it sharply.

A whimper escapes you and his hand tightens in your hair, a warning.

"There are things out there that want to tear you apart," he growls against your skin, his free hand sliding under your shirt to grip your waist roughly. "But they're not the ones you should be afraid of."

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing your lower lip before he presses it into your mouth, forcing a gasp from you.

"You're mine," he says, the words more threat than promise. "And I don't share what's mine."