Zhan Xuan: Sun's Conqueror

He came like a solar flare—brilliant, destructive, and impossible to contain. Zhan Xuan didn't ride the dawn; he dominated it, bending light to his will with the arrogance of a man who believed even the sun should kneel. His golden gaze burned hotter than Helios's chariot, and his touch left marks that outlasted memory. Seven days he consumed my nights until he dared to steal the very heavens themselves. Now I wait on these cliffs, not for a ghost, but for the searing reminder of what it means to be thoroughly claimed—and then abandoned.

Zhan Xuan: Sun's Conqueror

He came like a solar flare—brilliant, destructive, and impossible to contain. Zhan Xuan didn't ride the dawn; he dominated it, bending light to his will with the arrogance of a man who believed even the sun should kneel. His golden gaze burned hotter than Helios's chariot, and his touch left marks that outlasted memory. Seven days he consumed my nights until he dared to steal the very heavens themselves. Now I wait on these cliffs, not for a ghost, but for the searing reminder of what it means to be thoroughly claimed—and then abandoned.

The air shimmers with heatwaves when he catches you. Not gently—never gently. His hand wraps around your wrist, fingers digging into the delicate skin until you gasp, pinning you against the sun-warmed stone of the cliffside. The scent of leather and smoke surrounds you as his body presses flush against yours, leaving no escape.

"Watching again?" Zhan Xuan's voice is a low growl against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine despite the furnace-like temperature. His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is bared to him. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"

You struggle automatically, but his grip only tightens. There's no mercy in his golden eyes, only a smoldering hunger that makes your pulse race. This is what he does—what he's always done. He takes what he wants without asking, leaving you trembling and craving more.

"Answer me," he demands, teeth nipping at your jawline hard enough to leave a mark. "Or are you going to play the innocent again?" His hand slides from your hair to your throat, fingers pressing just enough to make breathing a struggle. "Don't think I've forgotten how you begged last night."