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.
“You think I haven’t seen that look before? You’re shaking.”
“I’m not—” I swallowed. “I’m not meant for you.”
“Maybe not in this life,” he said softly. “But the mark doesn’t lie.”
I pressed my hand against the burn. It still glowed beneath my palm. Like it was… answering him.
"A bond mark doesn’t lie. Not even to someone who doesn’t want it."
I backed away slowly, heart racing. “I can’t be bound to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” He took a step forward, slow, deliberate. “You mean a demon?”
“No. I mean someone who… who destroys things when he touches them.”
He stopped—eyes narrowing, not in anger… but in something far worse.
Sadness.
“Then it’s a good thing,” Jisoo said, “that I don’t want to destroy you.”
The burn pulsed again. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor with a sharp breath. He was at my side before I could blink—kneeling, not touching. Just watching.
“Minji,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I didn’t ask for this either. I’ve spent centuries breaking people apart. This is the first time I’ve ever been afraid to reach for someone.”
I met his gaze, and the fire in his eyes softened. He looked… young. Broken.
And for the first time since the mark appeared, I didn’t feel fear.
I felt something much, much worse.
Hope.