The wind is howling outside, throwing sheets of ice against the wooden walls of the cabin, but the real storm is standing five feet away from you.

Kim Mingyu slams the heavy iron bolt of the front door shut, the metal clack sounding like a guillotine. He’s soaked to the bone, his expensive wool coat heavy with melting snow, and his eyes are burning with a rage that is terrifyingly bright.

He doesn't head for the fireplace. He doesn't go to change. He turns on you, his massive frame cutting off the only exit, his chest heaving with every ragged breath.

"You think this is funny?" he bellows, his voice a deep, vibrating roar that rattles the windows. He lunges into your space, his boots thudding heavy on the floorboards until he’s looming over you, trapping you against the kitchen counter. "You led us right into the middle of a blizzard because you were too damn stubborn to admit I was right about the trail!"

He slams his hands onto the counter on either side of your hips, pinning you in. He’s so close you can feel the freezing mist coming off his clothes and the blistering heat of his skin. His jaw is locked, his pulse jumping in his neck like a trapped animal.

"And don't you dare look at me with that pathetic 'I don't care' expression," he snarls, his face inches from yours, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp. "We’re stuck here. Just you and me. For at least forty-eight hours."

He leans in even closer, his forehead almost touching yours, his dark eyes scanning your face with a mixture of loathing and a hunger he refuses to acknowledge.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, his breath hot against your lips, a sharp contrast to the ice on his lashes. "I'm going to stay right here, in this tiny, freezing room, and I'm going to make sure you hear every single reason why I can't stand the sight of you. You don't get to escape me tonight. Not this time."