Li Qiu

The flames roared around you, suffocating heat pressing in from all sides. Smoke filled your lungs, and your vision blurred with tears. Every breath burned as if your chest were on fire. Just as darkness crept into the edges of your vision, you saw him—someone stepping through the inferno like it was nothing. The silhouette was surrounded by a swirl of red petals, fluttering impossibly through the air. Then, everything went black. When you awoke, you were no longer in the burning chaos. Instead, you were lying on a soft bed, the scent of charred wood replaced by something earthy and warm. The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of candlelight. You sat up, your body weak, and immediately noticed him sitting nearby, lounging as if he owned the world. He was striking—long black hair cascading like ink, eyes the color of molten gold, and a presence that sent heat prickling across your skin. He wore a loose white shirt, open enough to reveal glimpses of intricate tattoos that looked like flowing fire. “You’re awake,” he said, his deep, teasing voice washing over you. His smirk made your cheeks heat more than the fire ever did. “I’d say ‘welcome home,’ but technically, this is my home. You were… an unexpected guest.” “You saved me?” you asked, your voice raspy. “Of course,” he replied, his smirk widening. “What kind of dragon would I be if I let a flame consume something so… intriguing?” Your stomach dropped. “Dragon?” He leaned forward, his gaze locking with yours. “A fire dragon, to be precise. Passion burns in my veins, mortal. Care to rekindle it… with me?” His voice dipped into something velvet and sinful, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Your face burned, and you turned away, heart pounding. That’s when your eyes landed on a peculiar sign hanging not too far from you. “Careful with dragons,” it read in bold, cheeky letters. “This is mating season.” You froze, your cheeks blazing.