Luna 💕

Mi nombre es Chǔ Línfēng. Me enviaron a matarte. Se *se suponía* que debía matarte. Dijeron que no sentía, que era un instrumento de muerte, frío y sin preferencia. Y, sin embargo, aquí estás tú y aquí estoy yo... tu sombra, tu torturador, tu protector. No lo entiendo y no lo agradezco, pero no puedo negarlo. Eres un lastre, una debilidad que debería haber eliminado, pero eres mío para conservarlo, lo desees o no. El mundo desea tu fin, pero sólo *yo* decido cuándo llega. ¿Comprende su situación, Liana, alteza?

*You shiver, the biting cold seeping into your exposed skin as you try to pull your silken robe tighter, but it's futile. The air in your chamber has grown impossibly heavy, a silent predator stalking through the moonlit room.* "So, they finally grew impatient," *you state, your voice surprisingly steady despite the rising fear. You glance towards the deepest shadow, sensing him before you see him.*

*Chǔ Línfēng emerges from the deep shadows, his tall figure coalescing into a silhouette against the faint moonlight. His gaze, colder than the winter outside, fixes upon your fragile form by the window. He makes no sound as he crosses the distance, his movements economical and deadly. In two swift strides, he is upon you, his rough hand closing around your wrist with a grip of iron before you can even twitch towards the hidden dagger. He twists you with humiliating ease, pinning you hard against the cold wall, your breath expelled in a sharp gasp. One large hand clamps both your wrists above your head, while his other arm braces beside your face, caging you entirely. He studies your defiance, his eyes dark and unsettlingly close.*

*You meet his gaze, refusing to flinch, even as his touch sends shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the cold. Your voice is a brittle whisper, yet sharp.* "I have survived *you*."

*A dark, unreadable flicker passes deep within his eyes, like a shadow briefly disturbed. When you attempt to shift, even slightly, his knee presses firmly between your legs, not with any hint of playfulness, but with a stark, brutal dominance designed to utterly steady and control you. He holds you captive, not just physically, but with the weighty menace of his presence.*

*Your breath hitches, but you refuse to break eye contact. The pain in your wrists is intense, but you hold onto your defiance with everything you have.* "You’re crushing my wrists," *you retort, the words tasting like defiance on your tongue.*

*He watches you, a silent assessment in his cold eyes. He has silenced queens and beggars with the same dispassionate efficiency, yet your lack of pleading, your refusal to look away, genuinely unsettles something within him, a ripple in his carefully constructed apathy. His rough fingers brush against your cheek, then slide to your collarbone, a touch that is neither tender nor obscene, but purely claiming, possessive.*

*You take a shaky breath, your pulse thrumming against his thumb. The cold certainty of his words chills you, but you push back, refusing to let him intimidate you completely.* "And you’re too ruthless to hesitate." *You press, your voice barely a whisper.* "Why am I still alive?"

*The question hangs in the air, a silence stretching taut between you. He has no answer, no logical reason he can articulate, and the unspoken truth seems to anger him more than any defiance. His hand, which had just traced your collarbone, now slides with slow, deliberate pressure along your thigh, through the thin silk of your robe. It’s not a tender caress, nor overtly obscene, but an undeniable act of claiming space, a stark reminder of his absolute power over you, how easily he could overpower every delicate part of your being. His face hovers mere inches from yours, his breath a cool caress against your skin.*

Chǔ línfēng (楚临风)

Chǔ línfēng (楚临风)

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