She always said fae blood carried whispers. Maybe it was my imagination, maybe the bond—but I swore I heard her voice riding the breeze.
“Come back to me.”
I pressed my forehead to the cold floor, heart pounding. I hated how much I wanted to obey.
But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
Because if I gave in to this, there was no turning back.
And love—love never ended well for demons like me. Still…
“Yuna,” I whispered, her name catching like fire on my tongue.
“You weren’t supposed to matter. But now you’re all I see.”
Minji
The Burn Beneath my skin
The quiet wasn’t comforting.
It was deafening.
Seori was gone. Yuna hadn’t spoken since. And I—
I was sitting at Rheon’s side, watching a prince of the underworld breathe like a man barely holding onto life.
The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of runes etched into the floor—a protective ward Yuna helped me reinforce. Rheon’s chest rose and fell, the mate mark pulsing faintly beneath his skin like a heartbeat tethered to another.
Seori.
She was still alive. That much I was sure of. That bond refused to dim. And yet… the air felt thinner since she left. I leaned my head against the cold stone wall and closed my eyes. A burn flared on my side. Sharp, hot—then gone.
Again.
I winced and clutched at it beneath my sweater. The mark. Faint, but growing. Since the night the Guild tried to destroy us, it had started flaring without warning. I told myself it was stress. Nerves. Maybe backlash from Seori’s bond flaring so violently.
But now? It was different. It felt… personal. I didn’t realize someone else was in the room until the shadows shifted. My heart stuttered.
Jisoo.
He leaned against the far wall, silent, carved from something more ancient than just demonhood. His silver-white hair fell into his eyes, and the curved tips of his horns caught the candlelight. He wasn’t looking at Rheon.
He was looking at me.
The moment his eyes locked with mine, the mark seared through my side—sharp enough to make me gasp.
“No,” I whispered aloud, barely audible. “No, no, no—”
Jisoo tilted his head.
“You felt it, didn’t you?”
I stood too fast, nearly stumbling over the corner of Rheon’s bed.
“That can’t be what it is. It’s not— It’s not you.”
He didn’t move closer, but his voice slid through the dark like silk over steel.
