Rheon
Steel before the storm
The campfire cracked low, casting golden shadows across the broken stone. The wind here was sharper—full of ancient things that breathed through the crags of the Demon Realm like forgotten gods whispering warnings. But it wasn’t the ghosts of this place that kept the air so heavy.
It was them.
Minji sat polishing the edge of a dagger that didn’t need polishing.
Her eyes were distant, lips pressed together in a grim line.
Yuna leaned against a moss-covered rock, trying—and failing—not to keep glancing toward the horizon.
Every time she touched the glowing mark on her collarbone, her hand trembled.
I saw it.
I felt it. The pain. The ache of something both beautiful and unbearable. I let out a quiet breath and knelt between them. They didn’t look at me—not right away—but they stilled at the sound of my voice.
“You’re both thinking about them,” I said softly. “Aren’t you?”
Yuna’s eyes glistened.
“No, I’m—”
“Don’t lie,” I interrupted gently. “You feel it. The mark doesn’t let you forget. It doesn’t fade. It only waits.”
Minji set the dagger down.
“It’s not that simple.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed. “But it’s real. It’s fate. And fighting it hurts more than surrendering to it ever could.”
Yuna turned toward me, finally letting her tears fall.
“He said I wasn’t meant for anyone.”
I looked at her—not as a demon, not as a prince—but as someone who knew exactly what it was to believe you’re unworthy of love.
“He’s scared,” I said. “So was I. Sometimes the bond feels like a noose when you’re not ready to feel anything at all. But Yuna…” I reached forward and gently pressed my hand over hers, covering the glowing mark.
“The bond doesn’t choose wrong. You were meant.”
Minji stayed silent, but her fingers twitched near her ribcage—where I knew her mark lay hidden.
“And you,” I said, turning to her. “Jisoo… he made mistakes. He betrayed what mattered. But if he’s anything like the brother I remember—he’ll spend the rest of his eternity trying to earn your forgiveness.”
Her lips parted, trembling with unspoken words, but I didn’t press her to say them.
“I won’t tell you what to feel,” I said, standing. “But I will tell you this: follow your hearts. Not the voices that taught you love is weakness. Or pain. Or death.”
I turned, the black wind wrapping around my cloak like flame. My chest ached, my soul ached—but I wasn’t broken anymore.
“I’ll get her back,” I said, voice like thunder. “I swear to you both… I’ll bring Seori home.”
They watched me walk into the dark, and behind me, I heard armor shifting.
They were ready to fight.
But more than that—
They were ready to feel.
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The embers of the last fire still smoldered beneath ash and bone.
We’d cleared the camp for the night, but sleep didn’t come easily—not for any of us.
I found Taeyang near the edge of the cliffside, where the wind howled so loud it drowned out even your thoughts if you let it.
He stood with his arms folded, staring into the void like it might stare back with answers.
His bond mark glowed faintly under the collar of his shirt. A reminder. A curse. A promise.
I approached without a word, letting my presence settle beside him.
“Why does it still hurt?” he asked after a long moment. His voice was raw. Quiet. “Why does it feel like she’s already gone, even when she’s standing right there?”
I looked at him—really looked.
“I asked myself the same thing about Seori,” I murmured. “It’s because the bond doesn’t just link souls. It shows you what could be. What should be. And when we try to deny that? We suffer.”
He clenched his fists.
“I told her she was meant for no one.”
“You lied,” I said gently.
His breath caught.
“Not to her,” I added. “To yourself.”
He finally turned to me, shame darkening his eyes.
“What if I’m not good enough for her?”
I smiled, hollow and tired.
“None of us are. Not really. But they don’t want perfection. They want the fight. The choice. Yuna chose you. The question is, will you choose her back?”
He didn’t answer. But the tremble in his chest said enough.
A few steps away, Jisoo sat against the broken remnants of a stone gate. His face was drawn, bruised with guilt more than battle.
I walked to him, crouched beside him.
“She won’t even look at me,” he muttered, staring at his hands like they belonged to someone else. “And she’s right. I let them take Seori. I stood there. I let everything burn for a deal I didn’t believe in until it was too late.”
“You were scared,” I said. “And selfish. But you’re also trying to fix it. That’s not nothing.”
“She said I did it for myself. Not for her.” His voice cracked. “And she’s right.”
I nodded.
“Then show her who you are now. Not who you were in fear.”
He looked up, pain etched deep in his face.
“Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“Eventually,” I said. “If you forgive yourself first.”
He let out a breath like it hurt.
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
I stared out into the black horizon where my mate was still in the hands of monsters.
“I have.”
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The fire continued to crackle low in the center of camp, casting long shadows on the faces I had come to trust — and nearly lost.
Minji stood apart, arms crossed, glancing toward the darkness where Jisoo lingered. Yuna sat beside Taeyang, though neither said a word. Their silences weren’t peaceful. They were loaded — with unsaid things, unresolved wounds, and an ache none of us could outrun.
Seori’s absence hung heavy like ash in the air.
I stepped forward, cloak billowing behind me as I rolled the crude map across the stone slab we used as a makeshift table. All eyes turned to me. Even Jisoo finally emerged, his mark dull but pulsing.
“She’s at the palace,” I began, voice steady even though my chest burned. “He’s keeping her there because she’s the key. Not just to me — but to everything he’s been planning.”
“The Demon King?” Yuna asked.
I nodded.
“He wants her to lead. To rule the heavens and the underworld. He wants, no, needs a weapon.”
“Then we go in and tear him apart,” Taeyang said sharply, gripping the hilt of his blade.
Minji snorted.
“And die in the first wave?”
“No,” I said, lifting my hand to quiet them. “We don’t storm the gates. Not yet. We infiltrate.”
I pointed to the western flank of the palace walls.
“There’s a breach here. Old, forgotten, but still open. We slip through. Two teams. I’ll go in through the front — cause a distraction.”
“And the rest of us?” Jisoo asked.
“That’s where you come in.”
I turned deliberately.
“Yuna, you’ll go with Taeyang. You’re fastest. You’ll reach the west wing before the guards know what’s happening. Seori may be there.”
Yuna stiffened. Taeyang didn’t look at her. But I felt the tension spike like fire between them.
“Minji,” I continued, “You’ll go with Jisoo. The archives sit below the main tower. There may be spell work there—wards protecting the throne room. I want them gone before I enter.”
Minji’s jaw clenched.
“You’re pairing me with him?”
“I trust you’ll keep him in line,” I said dryly.
Jisoo muttered,
“If she doesn’t kill me first.”
“I’m counting on it.”
The silence that followed was tense, but I felt something shift. Beneath the anger, the heartbreak, the betrayal — there was purpose. Rage sharpened into resolve.
I folded the map.
“We move at nightfall. No delays. No mercy.”
Taeyang finally looked at Yuna. She was already watching him.
Minji’s eyes flicked to Jisoo. His gaze dropped.
And I… I closed my hand over the bond mark searing through my chest.
Hold on, Seori, I thought. I’m coming for you.