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... ead and her eyes fell on her grasping his wrist, she immediately took her hand away: "I still have something to say, so I won't make it clear at once. I'm afraid I won't have a chance in the future. You just said I also said that after that...maybe we will never meet again."

  Shao Jingmo's gaze stayed on her face, and he said softly, "What else can I say?"

  The corners of Qiao Qiao's lips moved slightly, and her voice was a little lonely: "Is it because when a person doesn't love ...

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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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