“Maybe you should,” Minji shot back. “You’ve been sending us into more dangerous zones with less intel.And now you assign a high-level demon specifically to Seori? Why?”
Seori didn’t speak.
But I saw it too.
The way his jaw twitched. The way his fingers curled at his side like he was resisting the urge to grab something—or hide something.
He was lying.
I couldn’t prove it yet. But I felt it in my bones. In the way the air grew heavy. In the way Seori’s bond mark—it hadn’t stopped glowing since the mission—pulsed faintly under her collarbone.
“You’re hiding something,” I whispered.
The Guild Master met my eyes.
“Careful, Yuna. Curiosity in this Guild is the quickest way to get reassigned—or removed.”
And just like that, he turned and walked out. The room fell into a brittle silence. Seori looked down at her hands. Minji stared at the door. I stood there, rage simmering beneath my skin.
Something was wrong.
And I swore, I would find out what it was.
Rheon
The Thread Between us all
I couldn’t get her out of my mind. No matter how deep I buried myself in shadows, no matter how long I trained until my fists bled, her name clung to my bones like a curse I’d willingly cast.
Seori.
Even thinking it felt dangerous. She wasn’t supposed to matter. Not tome. I was the son of a tyrant, heir to shadows and ruin. And she… she was light and fire and blades and breath. She was meant to kill me. I was meant to run.
So why the hell did I want to be caught?
The bond pulsed again beneath my skin, burning softly. Not painful—just…present. Like a hand on my chest. Awhisper in my blood. A tether I hadn’t asked for but now couldn’t imagine severing.
I stood at the edge of the rooftop of our hideout, the winds of Seoul whipping around me like ghosts. Below, humans lived unaware of the war we waged above them. Inside, Taeyang and Jisoo were sharpening weapons, arguing over maps and demonic movement.
But my mind wasn’t in this fight. It was with her.
My fingers brushed the edge of parchment as I pulled it from my coat pocket. The letter had been rewritten a dozen times. I’d burned the first five. This one was the only one I dared keep.
And even this… felt too much. But I couldn’t stop myself.
I whistled low, and from the darkness of the sky, a soft shimmer cut through the night.
A Haetae.
The guardian beast of Korean legend—lion-like, protective, sacred. Made of myth and divine fire. It materialized in a pulse of gold and blue light, its mane flickering like a flame in water. Eyes wise. Unblinking.
“You know where to find her,” I said softly.
The Haetae bowed once, the sacred seal I etched onto the scroll now tied to its neck. As the spirit beast took off into the night, I felt the bond flare again—stronger this time. Fierce. Hungry.
She would feel it. I knew she would. She’d know it was fromme. And she’d know where to go. Because the bond didn’t just burn. Itcalled.
And I—I was waiting.
