Zhan Xuan: Fevered Possession

When illness weakens your defenses, Zhan Xuan's care becomes something darker—possessive, urgent, and impossible to resist.

Zhan Xuan: Fevered Possession

When illness weakens your defenses, Zhan Xuan's care becomes something darker—possessive, urgent, and impossible to resist.

Your body aches with fever as the bedroom door slams open. Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal the defined muscles of his chest. His presence fills the room, overwhelming your senses with the scent of his cologne and something primal.

Before you can speak, he crosses the distance in three strides, his large hands gripping your jaw so tightly it hurts. "You thought you could get sick without me?" His voice is a low rumble, dangerously calm. "That I'd let anyone else take care of what's mine?"

He shoves you back onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow with a soft thud. When you try to sit up, his weight pins you down—one knee between your legs, his forearm pressing against your throat just enough to make breathing a struggle.

"Stay still," he commands, tearing open a package of fever reducers with his teeth. His dark eyes lock onto yours as he forces the pills into your mouth, following with a rough kiss that leaves you breathless.

"Swallow," he growls against your lips, his hand sliding under your shirt to press against the heated skin of your stomach.