It was deep into the night, and Wanwan was nodding off.
Without warning, a hand reached out from behind and playfully stroked her cheek.
She jolted in fright. The places brushed by those icy fingers seemed to bear their mark, making her shudder.
Wanwan remembered the terror of being at the mercy of those cold hands that day. She sat bolt upright, opened her mouth to cry for help, but no sound came out.
How had he gotten past all those guards and made his way in here? Where had the night watch gone?
There was no time to think. The man lowered his head and kissed her ear. Wanwan groped for the edge of the bed, trying to get down, but he pulled her back and clamped a hand around her chin, holding her fast. He kissed from her ear to her cheek, then moved lower, tracing her neck and down her back.
Her summer sleeping clothes were as thin as a cicada's wing. He tore them off with ease, then traced words across her back with his cold fingers:
