A breath later, a horn sounds low from the eastern ward. Jisoo appears in the archway, eyes dark.
“Archive ward flickered,” he says. “Someone’s testing the locks.”
I tuck the scorched petals into my pocket—a reminder that beauty burns and still returns.
“Shadow net starts now,” I tell them both, already moving.
Fire or petals. We’ll keep her alive with both.
I Still Want You
Yuna
I don’t realize I’m shaking until the petals start to follow me.
They lift from the council bowls as I storm through the corridor—small, charred moons spinning in my wake—then flutter down again when I force my breathing to even out. Moonlight pours through the lattice windows, striping the hall in silver and shadow. I want the wind to take the sting out of Taeyang’s words, but it clings like smoke.
Pathetic.
The word won’t stop echoing.
“Yuna,” Kaelen calls, quickening to match my pace.
“Hey—slow down.” His hand hovers near my elbow, careful, practiced. “Breathe with me. In… and out.”
“I am breathing,” I snap, then soften. “I am. I just”
“Know he didn’t mean it?” Kaelen’s mouth twists. “Maybe. But he said it. And you don’t deserve to be the target when someone else can’t manage their fear.”
We step into the eastern gallery, where night-blooming vines curl over pale marble and the city glows like a constellation spilled at our feet. I brace both palms on the balustrade and let the cold stone leach heat from my skin. The mark on my collarbone pulses once, furious and bright.
“I hate that it still hurts,” I say. “I hate that he can still make it hurt.”
Kaelen’s voice gentles.
“It hurts because you cared. Because you still—” He stops himself, then tries again. “You know I’ll stand where you tell me. With you. In front of you. Behind you. Whatever you need.”
“I need to bebelieved,” I whisper.
“I believe you.” His fingers brush my sleeve, then my forearm—light, testing. “And I think… you deserve someone who chooses you without making your strength a problem to solve.”
I turn, and that’s when I see it—the tilt of his shoulders, the way his gaze has already dropped to my mouth. I feel the shift before he leans in. The soft, steady caress at my jaw is meant to be comfort. It isn’t. Not to me.
“Kaelen—” I start, drawing back.
Bootsteps cut like thunder through velvet.
“Take your hand off her.”
The voice is gravel and flame. My pulse answers before my head does. Taeyang steps out of the shadowed arch with the night at his back and wrath banked low in his eyes. The air tightens; even the vines seem to stiffen.
Kaelen’s hand stills on my cheek. He doesn’t move it. “This is the Fae Palace,” he says without looking away from me. “Not the demon realm.”
“That’s mymate,” Taeyang says, each word sharp enough to bleed on. He closes the distance in three controlled strides. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you. Treaty be damned.”
The threat strikes sparks off the marble. My mark flares so bright it aches.
“Enough,” I say, and the word comes out colder than I expect. I step between them, palm to Taeyang’s chest to stop him, fingers to Kaelen’s wrist to move him back. “Both of you.”
