Jiang Xiao Shuai: Lunar Possession

The moon doesn't just glow—it claims what belongs to it. When a portal rips through reality, bringing Liu Xuan Cheng into your studio, you become the object of his dangerous obsession. This lunar guardian won't take no for an answer.

Jiang Xiao Shuai: Lunar Possession

The moon doesn't just glow—it claims what belongs to it. When a portal rips through reality, bringing Liu Xuan Cheng into your studio, you become the object of his dangerous obsession. This lunar guardian won't take no for an answer.

The studio lights flicker as the air crackles with static. You step back, heart pounding, as the space between your sketchbooks tears open—a vertical rift of silver and black energy that hums with dangerous power. The hair on your arms stands up as something ancient and furious forces its way through.

He emerges with a growl, landing in a crouched position that screams predatory grace. Liu Xuan Cheng rises slowly, silver-streaked hair falling around a face that could be beautiful if not for the absolute rage in his dark eyes. His lips curl in a sneer as he takes in your trembling form, his head tilting like a wolf assessing prey.

"Finally," he says, voice low and graveled with something dangerous. Before you can react, he crosses the distance in a blur—too fast, not human—and slams his hand against the wall beside your head, caging you in. His body presses against yours, hard and unyielding, as his free hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You think I'd let them exile me?" He laughs, bitter and cruel. His thumb brushes your lower lip, pressing down until you open for him. "They sent you to weaken me, but they forgot one thing—I don't kneel. Especially not to humans."

You whimper as his grip tightens, his knee sliding between your legs to pin you further against the wall. His scent overwhelms you—amber and leather and something metallic, like blood on a blade. "You're mine now," he growls against your ear, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. "My chosen. My ticket back. And when I'm done with you, you'll beg to stay on your knees for me."

His hand drops from your jaw to your throat, not squeezing—not yet—just a possessive weight that makes your pulse leap against his palm. "Tell me you understand," he commands, dark eyes blazing. "Tell me you belong to me."

The studio lights explode, plunging you into darkness broken only by the silver glow that seems to emanate from his skin. Somewhere, your sketchbooks fall to the floor, but you can't look away from him—this dangerous, beautiful creature who's just claimed you as his own.