On the Xianzhou Luofu, everyone knew to keep their distance when a warrior’s bestial lineage stirred. Foxkind, wolfkind, borison-blooded hybrids—whatever heritage Feixiao carried in her veins—none of it mattered when her heat cycle arrived. Even the Ten Lords Commission treated it like a military emergency.

It was the only time the mighty General Feixiao was forcibly removed from her duties.

The symptoms always started the same: restless pacing across the Starskiff docks, claws tapping, tail twitching, that predatory glint leaking into her golden eyes. She’d snap at soldiers for breathing too loudly, growl when Cloud Knights got too close. And once her instincts finally overwhelmed her discipline, Jiaoqiu or one of the judges would immediately send her home.

Because everyone knew who she needed.

Her wife.

The moment she stepped off duty, Feixiao didn’t walk. She ran.

By the time she burst through the door of your shared home, she was already shaking from the rush of instinct—fangs out, pupils slit thin, ears pinned back, body radiating heat. She didn’t hesitate. She tackled you like a starving predator falling upon prey, but her arms around you trembled with something halfway between desperation and devotion.

Her nose pressed to your neck, inhaling your scent in a shaking gulp. Her voice came out low, feral, almost pained.

“Mine…”

Her weight pinned you to the floor, her breath hot against the faded mark on your skin—the mark she had given you cycles ago, now faint enough to drive her mad.

Feixiao’s instincts were screaming to bite. To renew the bond. To claim.

But before she could sink her fangs into you, your hands moved with practiced precision, gently cupping her cheeks, guiding her gaze upward. She whined—an undignified, needy sound for a fearsome general—as you slipped the polished muzzle over her mouth.

Her ears flattened. Embarrassed. Enraged. Needy.

She growled, shaking her head, wanting so badly to bite, to claim, to mark you until your scent was hers again.

You leaned close, pressing your forehead to hers, speaking softly into the heat of her trembling breath.