Chapter Twenty-Six
Ismooth down the borrowed shirt, watching Dohwan button his wrinkled dress shirt in the mirror.
His movements are precise, methodical, but there's a new softness to his usually rigid posture.
The word echoes in my mind—“love.” He'd said it last night, several times, breathed it against my skin. My chest tightens at the memory.
Don't overthink it, I scold myself. But with Dohwan, every word seems carefully chosen, every action deliberate. He catches my gaze in the mirror and holds it for a moment before looking away.
Eunho hums as he fixes his hair, seemingly unbothered by the chaos we're leaving behind—the shredded curtains, the broken furniture, the scattered feathers.
“Should we check if the coast is clear?” I ask, peering nervously at the door. “I'd rather not explain what happened in here to anyone.”
Eunho laughs, rich and warm. “Trust me, no one's going to ask. This is what these rooms are for at fae parties. Why do you think they keep them all made up?”
“You can't be serious.”
“Oh, completely.” He grins, adjusting his collar. “Right now, there are probably dozens of guests extracting themselves from similar situations all over the house.”
We step into the hallway, and I realize he's right. Disheveled fae emerge from various rooms, some barely dressed, others sporting obvious bite marks and scratches. A female in what remains of an evening gown stumbles past us, her hair a wild mess.
Near the grand staircase, servants are attempting to mop up what is unmistakably a large puddle of blood from the dance floor. I stare at the crimson stain spreading across the marble.
Eunho follows my gaze and snorts. “At least the bloodshed was minimal this time.”
“Minimal?” I gape.
“Only one or two deaths,” he says with a casual shrug. “Last month's party ended with five fatalities and an entire wing on fire.”
I stumble along between Eunho and Dohwan, dazed by that revelation.
The grand atrium comes into view, sunlight streaming through tall windows onto marble floors now bearing suspicious dark stains.
Servants scurry about with mops and buckets, working to erase evidence of last night's revelry and violence.
“Maybe I should stick to quieter gatherings,” I mutter, eyeing a particularly large bloodstain near a pillar.
“Eunho!” a male voice calls out. A fae in House Ruby colors strides toward us, his formal attire wrinkled but still elegant. “Been looking for you everywhere.”
Eunho steps forward to greet his friend while Dohwan and I hang back. I lean against a column, letting my eyes drift across the atrium where small clusters of party survivors gather their dignity and belongings.
A flash of movement catches my attention. My body goes rigid, blood turning to ice in my veins.
No. It can't be.
But it is. The male stepping into the atrium moves with the same fluid grace I remember, his dark hair swept back from sharp features I thought I'd never see again. He's surrounded by others in House Ruby colors, laughing at something one of them says.
As if sensing my stare, he turns. Our eyes lock across the space between us and he freezes mid-step.
The world narrows to just him. Just those eyes that once looked at me with such tenderness before they filled with hatred. My chest constricts as memories flood back—his fingers trailing down my spine, his voice whispering sweet nothings, his lips pressed to my throat.
Then the other memories crash in—his face contorted with rage, his hands no longer gentle but cruel, the terror that sent me running into the human world.
I can't breathe. Can't move. Can't look away from the male who once claimed to love me, then tried to kill me.
My entire body goes rigid as I stare at the male across the atrium. Every muscle locks up, my heart thundering against my ribs as memories of pain and betrayal flood back. The scars on my heart, long healed, seem to burn anew.
Beside me, Dohwan stiffens. I feel his energy shift, becoming sharp and alert as his gaze darts between me and my ex-lover. His eyes narrow dangerously, picking up on my distress. My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
The male's attention slides to Dohwan, assessing him with cold calculation. Then his gaze drops to Dohwan's exposed forearms where the mate marks stand in bold black against his skin. Surprise flickers across those once-familiar features.
Eunho chooses that moment to turn back to us, his cheerful expression falling as he takes in our tense postures. He follows our locked stares, his own landing on the male across the room. Immediately, Eunho's casual stance transforms into something protective as he steps slightly in front of me.
The movement draws the male's attention to Eunho's arm, raised between us like a shield.
The matching mate marks there catch the light.
I watch understanding dawn on my ex's face, followed by a curl of his lip in disgust. His eyes cut back to me, filled with derision, before he deliberately turns his back as if I'm beneath his notice.
A low, threatening growl rumbles from Dohwan's chest. Before he can move, I grab both his and Eunho's arms.
“Let's go home,” I say, tugging hard on Dohwan's arm until he tears his burning gaze from the male's back to look at me. Meeting his fierce stare, I add softly, “Please.”
Conflict wars across Dohwan's features—the urge to defend warring with my quiet request. After a long moment, his shoulders drop slightly and he gives a short nod.
The ride back to my apartment is thick with tension. Neither Dohwan nor Eunho speak, but I feel their concerned glances like physical touches. My hands tremble slightly in my lap as I try to push away memories I'd rather forget.
Inside my apartment, I head straight for the kitchen, desperate for something strong to steady my nerves. Behind me, I hear Eunho's cheerful greeting to Soot and the click of his nails on the floor as the sprite bounds over to welcome us back.
The burn of alcohol down my throat helps, but not enough. I can feel Dohwan's presence like a weight against my back, his energy crackling with barely contained questions.
When I turn around, I nearly drop my glass. Dohwan stands inches away, his dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
“Who was that male at the party?” His voice is deceptively soft, but I hear the steel underneath.
I clutch my glass tighter. “No one.” The words come out too quick, too defensive. “I should shower, I smell like party and…” I try to slip past him, making for my bedroom.
My fingers barely brush the doorknob before a large hand slams against the door above my shoulder, keeping it firmly shut. Heat radiates from Dohwan's body as he towers over me. I spin around, pressing my back against the door as I meet his thunderous expression.
“Who. Is. He.” Each word drops like a stone between us.
“It's not important.” I wrap my arms around myself, hating how small my voice sounds.
A muscle ticks in Dohwan's jaw as he visibly restrains himself from baring his fangs.
His fingers curl against the door, wood creaking under his grip.
“I can sense your distress. And I can smell your pain.” His voice roughens, grows ragged around the edges.
“It's making me want to lose my mind. You'd better explain what's causing these emotions rolling off you before I start setting things on fire.”
I stare up at Dohwan's intense gaze, then glance at Eunho over his shoulder. Eunho's expression is creased with concern, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. Neither of them looks like they'll back down until they get answers.
My shoulders slump and I let my arms drop to my sides. “His name is Yeosang. He's my ex.”
Dohwan's eyes narrow dangerously. “That isn't the whole story, is it?”
The weight of their attention makes me want to shrink into myself, but I gather what courage I can find. They deserve to know.
“No,” I admit softly. “Yeosang wasn't just any ex. He was my most serious relationship. We lived together for two years.” My voice catches. “I thought we were going to get married since the mate marks never appeared on him. He was probably the only male I truly thought I loved before…”
“What happened?” Eunho asks gently, moving closer but still giving me space.
My gaze flicks back to Dohwan. He hasn't moved, his body still caging me against the door, but his posture is braced as if preparing for a blow. He watches me with careful patience, waiting.
I swallow hard. “Yeosang didn't know I was a halfblood. When he found out—” My fingers dig into my palms. “He didn't take it well.”
Dohwan's gaze remains locked on mine, but I see the shift in his eyes—from warm brown to midnight black. “What did he do?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
The memory hits me like a physical blow. I'm back in that apartment, the one we'd shared for two years. The scent of jasmine from the garden wafting through open windows, mixing with the copper tang of blood.
“You deceived me.” Yeosang's voice trembles with rage as he holds up my discharge papers from the orphanage. The ones clearly labeling me as a halfblood, the ones I'd forgotten I had, buried at the bottom of one of my boxes of things. “You're one of those half-breed abominations.”
“I didn't intentionally deceive you.” My hands shake as I reach for him. “I just didn't tell you. Please, Yeosang, you know me. You love me.”
His beautiful face twists into something ugly. “Love you? I could never love something like you. You're an insult to our bloodline.”
The first blast of fire catches me off guard. I barely dodge, the heat searing my arm. His power, usually so carefully controlled, explodes outward in waves of murderous intent.
“You let me touch you.” Each word drips with revulsion as he advances. “You let me kiss you. Made me think we had a future.”
I scramble backward, raising my own flames in defense. “Stop! Please!”