Minji groaned — a soft, broken sound — and reached blindly toward the light. Towardhim.
Jisoo dropped to his knees beside her as if pulled by gravity itself.
The second his hand touched her shoulder…the bond erupted.
A searing white flame lit his collarbone — a mark that had never burned before, etched into his skin like divine punishment… or a promise.
His lips parted. “No,” he breathed.
But it wasyes.It was always yes.Minji opened her good eye, blinking at him.
“You came…” she whispered.
Jisoo hovered over her, rage fading into reverence.
“I should have burned the world for you sooner,” he said hoarsely. His fingers gently traced the cut on her cheek. “You’re mine.You always were.”
Minji trembled.
“What… what did they do to me?”
“I’ll never let them touch you again.”
Her hand found his wrist — and in that moment, she wasn’t just a Guild girl. She was his. Fully, cosmically, irrevocably his.
He scooped her up as if she were made of fire and glass — one hand bracing her head, the other across her ribs, careful not to press where she hurt.
But even as he rose to his feet, the glow of his mark burned bright across his chest.
Three demon bonds.Three impossible matches.
One oath already broken… and two more about to be tested.
Rheon
The Softest Flame
The ruins had fallen quiet. No more alarms. No more magic surging through the halls. Just the crackle of distant flames and the faint whisper of rain pattering through shattered skylights above.
I sat beside Seori in the chamber’s corner, watching her chest rise and fall steadily. She was stable. She’d live. And for the first time since all this began… I allowed myself to breathe.
But Jisoo hadn’t moved from the far edge of the altar room — not since he carried Minji there like something precious and broken. The golden glow of hismark still shimmered faintly beneath his open shirt, but his expression was unreadable.
He was usually so loud. So irreverent.
Now?
He was as quiet as death.
Minji lay in his lap, her head nestled against his thigh. He’d removed her jacket, rolled up her bloodied shirt, and was carefully cleaning the deep gash across her ribs with a soft cloth.
It was reverent, the way his fingers moved — like he was terrified he might hurt her more. Like she was something sacred.
She stirred.
“Easy,” he whispered, voice low and raw. “Don’t move. You’re safe now.”
She winced but didn’t pull away. “You killed them.”
