Waiting for her to follow it. To followme. To the place where all things unspoken finally came undone.
Seori
The Letter I shouldn’t keep
The first thing I heard was the sound of wind shifting. Not the usual whisper through the trees, but something deeper. Older. A hush that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I turned slowly, fingers twitching near the dagger strapped to my thigh.
And then I saw it. A Haetae. My breath caught.
It stood just beyond the clearing—majestic, unreal. Its body shimmered with celestial hues, a blend of starlight and flame, eyes like the deep waters of a forgotten spring. It watched me, still and calm, as if it had been carved from myth itself. As if it had been waiting.
My first instinct was to retreat. This wasn’t normal. Not for a hunter. Not for me.
But then it stepped forward—not threatening, not aggressive—just… present. And around its neck, tied delicately with silk, was a scroll. I hesitated. My heart pounded. I didn’t want to take it. I knew who it was from.Of course I knew.
But still, I reached for it.
The Haetae held its ground until the scroll was in my hand, and then—just as silently as it had come—it vanished into a soft shimmer of dust and air, leaving me alone beneath the silver-washed sky.
I didn’t open the letter right away.
I sat on a stone ledge near the edge of the Guild’s old training grounds, staring at the parchment, fingers trembling.
Rheon.
His name didn’t appear on the letter. But it didn’t have to. I felt the bond flare inside me the moment I touched the paper.
My chest tightened as I slowly unrolled it.
Seori,
You don’t need to look for a place to meet me. You already know where to go. I won’t ask anything of you—only that if you feel the bond, like I do… follow it. You don’t owe me your time, your loyalty, or even your forgiveness.
But still, I wait.
—Rheon
“Damn you,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat.
Because Ididfeel the bond. And it terrified me. It pulled at everything I thought I was. Every rule. Every mission. Every memory of why I shouldneverwant someone like him.
And yet…
My hands shook as I rolled the letter back up and tied the ribbon neatly.
“I’m not going,” I said aloud—to the wind, to the memory of his voice, to the part of me that wanted to.
I wasn’t ready. Icouldn’tbe ready.
But still…
I rose and crossed the clearing to the hollow of a tree I used to train near as a child. Beneath a loose stone in the roots, I buried the letter.
Out of sight. But not out of reach.
Some secrets weren’t meant to be burned.
Some were meant to wait.
