Rheon
A blade to the heart
The fire crackled low, shadows dancing along the cracked temple walls of our hideout.
Seori stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, her posture stiff but her energy unmistakable. That pulse in our bond again — soft but insistent. She hadn’t spoken a word since the fight. Since Taeyang’s warning.
But I knew what she was going to ask. I felt it before she opened her mouth.
"Why does he think I’ll destroy you?" Her voice was quiet. Not a whisper — no, it had too much steel for that. But low enough to tell me she was treading into dangerous waters. “What does he know that I don’t?”
I didn’t answer. I Couldn’t. The silence between us stretched. Seori turned to face me fully, her gaze sharp, cutting through the space like a dagger. “Don’t play games, Rheon. Not with this. You told him something. And now he looks at me like I’m your ruin.”
Still, I didn’t speak. Because she could be. She stepped closer.
"Tell me."
I turned away, jaw clenched, my shadows curling at my feet like restless dogs.
“You want the truth?” I rasped, voice rougher than I meant it to be. “It’s not what you think.”
Her expression didn’t change.
“Try me.”
I exhaled hard, running a hand through my hair. "Because he knows what I would do for you."
She blinked.
I looked her dead in the eye, my voice a low, scorched whisper.
“Because I’d take a blade to the heart if it meant keeping you safe. Because love — for someone like me — kills. That kind of devotion is poison in our world.”
She inhaled sharply, her lips parting as if to speak.
But I wasn’t done.
“And he knows,” I said, stepping closer now, unable to stop myself, “that if I let myself fall, I won't survive it.”
The bond flared between us — hot, electric, violent.
“But you’re hiding something,” she said suddenly, softer now. “That’s not the whole truth.”
I looked away. A flash — not of her — but of another face. Another time. A memory I buried so deep it was rotting.
“I’m not ready to tell you that part,” I said, too tightly.
Her gaze hardened.
“Coward.”
I smirked, stepping closer, voice velvet and fire.
“You’ve never minded what I keep hidden before.”
I reached for her, fingers brushing down her bare arm, slow. She flinched. Not from fear — no, from something more dangerous.
Desire.
She shoved me back.
“Don’t use seduction as a distraction.”
My grin sharpened.
“Can’t help it. You make it too easy.”
She turned on her heel, marching toward the exit of the ruined room. But she didn’t get far. Because the bond snapped.
A pulse, deep and primal, tore through me. Through us. The mark seared, and she stopped mid-stride, clutching her chest.
She gasped.
I was at her side in an instant, catching her before she stumbled.
“It’s the bond,” I breathed, lips brushing her ear. “You feel it too.”
“Don’t—” she whispered, trembling. “Not like this.”
But I couldn’t stop.
Not when her skin burned beneath mine.
Not when her breath hitched as I pressed her back against the ancient pillar, my hands braced on either side of her head.
“You’re mine,” I said hoarsely, shadows rising, licking at our heels. “And pretending otherwise doesn’t change it.”
Her hands fisted in my shirt. Our lips hovered. Barely touching. The bond surged again, snapping hot and desperate, dragging our mouths together.
This wasn’t a kiss.
This was war.
Tongues clashed. Teeth. Hands roamed. Her fingers twisted in my hair and I groaned, hips pinning hers to stone as I ground into her like I’d never touch anything else again.
“Tell me to stop,” I gasped against her mouth.
She didn’t.
Because she couldn’t. Because we were already burning.
She was a vision—bound, breathless, and burning beneath me. Her wrists were tied in silk I conjured myself, knotted with the kind of care that only a male who’s lost her once could manage. Shadows kissed along her body like they worshiped her more than I did—which wasn’t possible.
Seori writhed on the sheets, hips trembling, the toy inside her humming at the lowest setting. She was soaked. Shaking. Glorious.
“Rheon,” she gasped, her voice cracking with need, “please—please let me—”
Gods.
That voice.
That plea.
It nearly shattered the restraint I’d been clinging to since I touched her.
But I didn’t ease up.
Instead, I leaned down, brushing my mouth along the curve of her spine.
“Please what, flame?”
“You know what,” she whimpered, tugging at the restraints. “I can’t—I need to finish, please—”
A cruel, slow smirk curled on my lips.
“And you will. When I say.”
She let out a trembling moan that sounded like surrender and sin. I reached for the water glass beside the bed and took a slow sip, letting the coolness linger in my mouth. Then I pressed my lips to hers, parting them gently—letting her drink it from me.
She gasped against me, breathless. Needy.
When I pulled back, her lips were trembling. Her eyes glassy, desperate. My thumb stroked her cheek, and I let my shadows curl around her thigh like a lover.
“Catch your breath,” I murmured, watching her shake beneath me. “Be a good girl and take it.”
Her whimper made my blood boil in the best way. I moved lower, letting my mouth trail fire down her ribs, between her thighs, claiming her again.
She was mine.
Every cry, every arch of her back, every broken whisper of my name—mine. And I wasn’t stopping until she forgot every reason she ever had to doubt it.