A Crane Among Wolves

40. Daehyun

A shred of red silkfluttered on a branch.

Daehyun snatched it, recognizing it from King Yeonsan’s dragon robe. “He must be near,” he whispered, noticing a trail. He then turned his attention eastward. Only moments ago, soldiers had pressed through the short but heavy rainfall alongside him, combing the grounds in search of the deposed king. But now there was only fog, so dense he could barely see beyond his own fingertips.

Raising a wooden whistle, Daehyun blew out a sharp signal. Long moments passed before the silhouette of a soldier emerged. “Summon the men this way,” Daehyun ordered. “Follow this track.”

The soldier bowed, marking a tree by tying a yellow ribbon around it, then he plunged back into the haze.

Daehyun continued up the hill, following the path of muddy footprints—the desperate, scrambling footprints of a man bent on escaping all his heinous crimes. Daehyun’s grip tightened around the scrap of silk as memories of blood thickened around him, of loved ones taken from him so cruelly, of the nights and days he had cried himself hoarse…

His thoughts spiraled as his steps quickened, and soon all he could think of was the task awaiting him. It was his duty to avenge the deaths of his loved ones, and he knew well the depths to which he would have to sink to kill King Yeonsan. It would require him to dig a second grave—one for himself. Nothing could spare Daehyun’s life after disobeying the new king’s order that Yeonsan be captured alive.

But the satisfaction of running a sword through the man…

It was too tempting.

He drew his sword as the trail brought him to a clearing. He surveyed his surroundings, then abruptly paused as the fog moved, unveiling the edge of a cliff. He inched closer and peered down. He could not see it, but he could hear the rushing of the river far below, so violently fast that if he were to shove Yeonsan over, the corpse would disappear under the current, and no one would ever know who had killed him…

“Daehyun-gun!”

He flinched around. The heady smell of bloodlust vanished as he watched Iseul stagger out from the thicket. He sheathed his sword, his hands trembling, shock rippling through his being as though he’d been snatched away from the edge of oblivion.

“I heard the soldiers mention… where you were…” She gripped the sleeve of his robe, trying to catch her breath.

He remained still, his hand cupping the back of her head, staring down at the wisps of her hair. He had almost forgotten—there was no satisfaction to be found in vengeance. Yeonsan had purged hundreds upon hundreds of men, and his thirst for revenge had only grown. That agonizing hunger would carve into Daehyun’s own soul, leaving him secretive and bitter; Iseul would come to despise him. And that he could never live with.

The dead are dead. He knew that was what they would have said—Hyukjin, Wonsik, his mother, and his brothers. But she is still among the living. Be good to those who are still alive.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, his attention sharpened on the young woman before him. What had eluded him the previous night, concealed by darkness, now became starkly apparent—the livid scrape on the side of her face, a cut on the bridge of her nose, the blood spot in the white of her left eye.

“It is over.” His hand hovered against her cheek, his chest constricting painfully. “You are safe now. No one will hurt you again—”

“Daehyun-gun,” she cried quietly. “It is not over. Not yet.”

He frowned, then straightened himself. “Where is your sister?” his voice rasped. “Has something happened?”

“Yul is taking care of her. I came because I needed to warn you: Yeongho is the killer. He is Nameless Flower. You must have him arrested at once!”

He was shocked, but he was far more stunned that she would have left her sister to travel all this way to tell him. “You care about me.”

“You damn fool, of course I do!” She nearly sobbed, and he felt his heart full to bursting. “Yeongho is here somewhere; I’m sure of it. He must be among those men searching for the king. You must have him arrested at once before he harms you!”

“In truth,” he said quietly, brushing aside a loose strand of her hair, “I fail to understand why I am in danger. Perhaps you can enlighten me? Tell me everything, from the start, about how you came to this conclusion.”