Chapter 3

Mei didn't go to the kitchen. She went to the servant's corridor, a narrow hallway lined with silk tapestries that led away from the noise of the party.

She barely made it ten steps before Jian caught her.

He didn't touch her gently. He grabbed her wrist—the same one the drunk had held—and spun her around, pinning her against the wall. The tray in her hand clattered to the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Jian hissed. The playboy charm was gone. He looked wild, dangerous.

"I'm working," Mei snapped, trying to yank her arm free. "Some of us have to work, Jian. We don't all inherit empires."

"You shouldn't be here," he growled, stepping into her space. "Not like this. Not serving them. Do you have any idea what they say about you?"

"I know exactly what they say! Thanks to you!" Mei shoved his chest. It was like shoving a granite wall. "You made sure everyone knows I'm trash. 'An eyesore.' Isn't that what you called me?"

"I called you an eyesore so they would look away!" Jian shouted.

The words echoed in the narrow hallway.

Mei froze. "What?"

Jian was breathing hard, his chest heaving. He looked trapped. The scent coming off him was overwhelming now—not just pine and expensive cologne, but something deeper. Lotus. Rain. The scent of a Mate.

It hit Mei like a physical blow. Her wolf woke up, scratching at the back of her mind, whining *Mine. Mine.*

"You think I enjoy it?" Jian asked, his voice dropping to a tortured whisper. He leaned in, trapping her between his arms. "Do you think I like seeing you humiliated? Do you think I like kicking your books into the mud?"

"Then why?" Mei whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "Why are you so cruel?"

"Because if I'm not," Jian said, resting his forehead against hers, his resistance crumbling, "my father will kill you."

Mei stopped breathing.

"The Zhang heir cannot have a mate from a fallen house," Jian murmured, his eyes squeezed shut. "It weakens the lineage. If he knew... if he knew that every time I look at you, I want to burn the world down just to keep you warm, he would have you eliminated. An accident. A car crash. A rogue attack."

He opened his eyes. They weren't cold anymore. They were terrified.

"So I bully you," he confessed. "I make you look weak. I make you look pathetic. I make you *mine* to torment, so no other male will touch you, and my father won't see you as a threat. I made you untouchable, Mei."

Mei stared at him. She felt the vibration of his heart against her chest—fast, erratic.

"You didn't make me untouchable," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You broke me, Jian. You made me hate myself just so you could keep your crown."

"I don't care about the crown!" Jian slammed his hand against the wall beside her head. "I care about you breathing! I am trying to keep you alive!"

"This isn't living," Mei said, pushing him back. "This is a cage. And you're the warden."

Jian looked at her, his expression shattering. He reached out, his fingers hovering over her cheek, trembling. He looked like a starving man offered a feast he couldn't eat.

"I love you," he choked out. The words sounded like a curse. "God help me, Mei, I love you."

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