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... oward the study with a cup of coffee in her hand. When she pushed the door open and entered, su Yicheng was sitting behind the mahogany desk, carefully reading the documents in his hand.

Knock, knock, knock. &Quot; An ran gently knocked on the door.

Su Yicheng raised his head. With his gold-rimmed glasses, he looked more scholarly than usual, but the smile on his face was still gentle. “Come in,” he said with a chuckle.

Anran walked in with a smile and handed him the ...

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He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

“I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?”

“Elia,” she breathed.

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Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

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