Seori The Wounds We Choose
Seori
The Wounds We Choose
His taste is still on my lips. I don’t even realize I’m running until I slam the Guild doors behind me. The cold wind bites through my coat, and I gasp like I’ve just been pulled from drowning.
Gods. What have I done? I kissed him.
I kissed him.
Not in pity. Not in a ploy for information. I wanted it. My fingers tremble as I press them to my mouth, like I can scrub away the feel of him — his warmth, his breath, his fire.
But I can’t. The bond won’t let me forget. The rain hits the pavement like a warning drumbeat as I walk. No destination. Just escape. Each step echoes with memory.
His voice
“This body is yours to break, Hunter. Or to learn.”
His eyes — defiant, devouring. The way the mark burned between us like a curse with teeth.
I shake my head, angry at myself. I should’ve cut him down. I should’ve slit his throat when he leaned into me.
Instead… I craved more.
I make it back to my apartment just before dawn. Yuna is passed out on the couch, a half-finished bottle of soju cradled against her stomach.
Minji is awake. Waiting.
She watches me silently as I shrug off my coat and toss it to the floor. I move past her, but she speaks before I can vanish into my room.
“The mark flared,” she says quietly.
I stop.
“I saw it,” she adds. “On both of you.”
I don’t turn around.
“You kissed him.”
I clench my fists.
“It was nothing.”
“It was everything,” she replies. “Marks don’t lie.”
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I stare at my reflection. The same face stares back — but it doesn’t feel like me. Who am I becoming?
The hunter?
The girl?
The demon’s… mate?
The mark on my skin pulses faintly under my collarbone. It shouldn’t be there. It can’t be.
But it is.
I trace it with shaking fingers, and suddenly I’m back in the shrine. Chained shadows. Cracked lips. The groan he gave when I kissed him.
That wasn’t control. That was need.
Mine. And his.