The night pressed heavy against Ren's window. The city was still wet from the storm, the air thick with the scent of rain and static. Ren lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his mind replaying Li Wei's words again and again.
Try, and see what burns first—your will or your heart.
He hated that his chest still ached at the memory of that voice.
He hated that he could still feel Li Wei's warmth even after he was gone.
The bond pulsed faintly beneath his skin, a rhythm that wasn't his. He turned to the side, gripping the edge of his pillow. "Stop it," he whispered to the dark. "Stop pulling me."
But the dark didn't listen.
The air shifted—soft, electric. The faint scent of incense threaded through the room, sweet and wrong, like smoke from another world. Ren's eyes fluttered open.
"Li Wei…" he breathed.
He was there—half-seen, half-dream. His figure shimmered like a reflection on water, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "You called," he murmured, voice rough as silk.
Ren sat up, breath trembling. "No. This isn't real. You can't be here."
Li Wei smiled faintly, stepping closer, each movement rippling like heat in the air. "The bond doesn't obey distance, beloved. When you dream of me… I come."
Ren's throat went dry. "You shouldn't."
"And yet," Li Wei said, voice dipping lower, "you never truly want me gone."
The room seemed to breathe with them—shadows deepening, the air humming. Ren tried to move back, but the mattress dipped as Li Wei's half-solid form leaned closer, his hand ghosting over Ren's cheek. It felt warm, too real for a dream.
"Li Wei—"
"Don't fight me," the serpent whispered. "You've fought long enough."
Ren's breath hitched as Li Wei's fingers traced the mark on his shoulder. The contact burned—not pain, but memory. The same vow, the same ache. His body betrayed him, leaning into the touch he swore to hate.
"Why do you come like this?" Ren asked, voice breaking.
Li Wei's eyes softened, though his tone was still hungry. "Because in this world, you fear me. But here—" he pressed his forehead to Ren's, "—you remember how you used to beg me not to stop."
Ren gasped, fingers curling in the sheets as Li Wei's warmth spread across him, the weight of the dream pressing down until he couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. The bond thrummed like a heartbeat between them, wild and alive.
"Li Wei…"
"Say my name again," Li Wei whispered, lips brushing the corner of Ren's mouth. "Say it like before."
Ren's lips parted—his body trembling, breath breaking—but before he could speak, the dream shattered.
He woke with a cry, sweat slick on his skin, his heart slamming in his chest. The room was empty, the window open just enough for the wind to stir the curtains.
But his body still remembered. His skin burned where Li Wei had touched him.
And when he looked at his shoulder, the serpent mark glowed faintly, as if still kissed by divine fire.
Ren pressed his hand to it, shuddering.
"Why can't I escape you…?"
Outside, thunder murmured again in the distance—soft, answering.