Tigress Yu hit like a storm breaking loose. One moment she stood grinning, tail lashing; the next she exploded forward, bronze body blurring with primal speed. Claws raked in wide arcs, beast qi roaring out in feral shockwaves that tore grass from the earth.
Wei Chen met her head-on, fan sweeping a wall of golden Nine-Suns fire. The clash boomed—flame against claw, heat scorching fur, primal strength cracking his guard. He slid back ten paces, boots carving furrows, but his grin widened. The new power from the second door sang in his veins—controlled, endless, eager.
Yu laughed, deep and wild. "Good! Most humans fold on the first hit!"
She lunged again, low and fast, shoulder charging like a battering ram. Wei Chen twisted aside, fan slicing precise arcs of ice-flame borrowed from Lin Xue's essence. The edges grazed Yu's leather armor, freezing patches solid before his heat shattered them. She roared approval, tail whipping his thigh hard enough to sting.
Lin Xue and Su Mei circled the edge of the clearing, frost and crimson qi ready but held back. This was his challenge.
Princess Zhao Ling watched from her carriage step, soldiers tense around her. Her soft hands gripped the railing, dark eyes wide. She had seen sect duels—polite, measured, full of chants and formations. This was raw. Bodies colliding, sweat flying, power clashing without restraint.
Yu grabbed Wei Chen's wrist mid-block, claws pricking skin. She yanked him close, golden eyes locking on his. "Feel that? My blood sings for your fire."
Up close, her heat was overwhelming—musk and wild strength, breath hot against his face. Wei Chen's Yang stirred hard, brand warming in recognition. Beast essence called to it like dry tinder to spark.
He twisted free, palm striking her midsection with controlled Nine-Suns burst. She flew back, rolling gracefully and springing up laughing, armor cracked but eyes brighter.
"Again!" she bellowed, charging.
They traded blows in a blur—claws versus fan, primal bursts against refined flame. Wei Chen's new control shone: fire no longer wild, but precise, weaving frost threads and crimson corrosion from his bonds. Yu's raw power shook the ground, but his technique eroded her momentum, turning brute force into openings.
Zhao Ling's breath came shorter. She had never seen a man move like that—confident, shameless, power flowing effortless. Heat pooled low in her belly, unfamiliar and startling. Her sheltered life of palace walls and guarded lessons had not prepared her for this.
Yu tackled him finally, pinning him to the grass with massive strength. She straddled his waist, claws at his throat, tail curling possessive. "Yield, dragon. Be mine."
Wei Chen's hands gripped her hips, Yang fire flaring warm between them. She froze, golden eyes widening as the heat sank into her beast core—primal essence answering greedily.
"Feel that?" he said, voice low. "My fire doesn't take. It shares."
Yu's breath hitched. Her powerful body trembled, instincts warring with pride. The contact ignited something deep—her beast blood roaring for the Yang that perfectly matched her feral strength.
Lin Xue stepped closer, frost qi calm. "He speaks truth. The bond is chosen."
Su Mei's chains hovered playful. "And fun."
Yu stared down at Wei Chen, claws easing from his throat. "You… burn right."
She leaned in suddenly, claiming his mouth in a fierce, primal kiss—teeth nipping, tongue demanding. Wei Chen returned it, hands sliding up her back, fire pouring through the contact. Yu groaned into him, hips rolling instinctive against the hard evidence of his response.
Zhao Ling's face flamed crimson. She turned away, but not before the sight etched itself—raw desire, open and unashamed.
Yu broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Not yield… truce. Heart-Anchor if you earn it."
Wei Chen rose, pulling her up with him. "Then let's earn it properly."
Yu's tribe roared approval. Imperial soldiers shifted uneasy.
But Zhao Ling stepped forward, voice trembling but determined. "This… changes things. I must speak with you. Alone."
Wei Chen met her eyes, seeing the crack in her sheltered pride—curiosity, want, phoenix blood stirring.
The horizon filled with possibilities.
And new flames.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2026
All rights reserved.