~*~Earth Elemental~*~

The note is sitting on your desk at home, tucked behind your books. It surely had to have come from the will o’ the wisp that you found in the storage room but it couldn’t have been the one to write it itself. According to your quick online search, these phantom creatures don’t exactly communicate with others, instead leading people astray in the fog. Yet this one seems to understand you. Maybe it’s just a messenger, but for who? This mysterious WW isn’t recognizable unless the initials are for a pseudonym of sorts. Yoongi was the only other person there that night yet he had been on his laptop the whole time. 

“Are you going to finish the order or keep watching it blend into mush?” Elanor asks over the loud whirring of the blender that’s currently mixing the coffee. 

You quickly pull the container free and serve the drink into a cup with ice cubes before handing it off. “Sorry, got distracted for a second,” you say in a hurry. 

“With what, the blender?” She jokes. 

“No,” you shake your head, “just getting lost in my head.” 

Elanor reorganizes the desserts that’ve gotten knocked around in the display case, resetting them to look presentable. “Yeah, but about what?”

Nothing you could possibly say out loud in public. “Just about my walk this morning. I saw a cute squirrel running around and burying nuts for winter.” 

She gives you an odd look. “Right.” Before she can prod any further, a woman dressed in a business suit quickly walks in on the phone and orders an espresso and a couple of scones. 

While Elanor takes over making the drink, you fetch the food and ring up her order. Inadvertently you end up catching bits and pieces of her conversation. “Yes, sir, I just wrapped up the interview with the victim in Greenbriar and grabbing a coffee before I head to the second one now.” The woman pauses, listening quietly to whoever’s talking. 

You slowly ease the chocolate and lemon scones into the bag, doing your best not to noisily crinkle the bag too much. What does she mean by second one? Second victim? There’s only been talk of one attack. Maybe it’s not the same case. Greenbriar is all the way in the next county. 

“Depending on what this one says, I think it’ll determine if there’s a connection between the attacks. But I believe—yes, well, I already have those scheduled with experts to verify,” she sighs to herself before clenching and unclenching her fist, “yes, I’ll schedule some more meetings and look into it.” Hanging up her phone, she rubs her forehead and lets out another sigh. 

“Boss being a little overbearing?” You guess, giving her a sympathetic smile while handing her the drink and bag of food. 

“Yep. I finally start getting things on track for this story and now my supervisor wants me to interview paranormal investigators or something to see what they think about these attacks in the woods,” she explains, taking a careful sip of her coffee. “I’m well aware of the importance of hearing from both aspects, but he wants to spin it as some spooky ghost story.” 

“That’s certainly quite a take,” you note, drawing a snort from Elanor who’s actively listening in nearby at the register but not engaging in the conversation. “So is it true there’s been two attacks?” You lower your voice as you ask. 

The woman nods while typing out something on her phone. “Supposedly. That’s why I’m out here to verify and see if there’s any connection between the two cases. Though this is a little ways out to be honest.” Her phone begins ringing again and she answers it. “Yes, sir?” She lets out another sigh before rolling her eyes. “Yes, I’ll bring you a banana muffin.” 

You’re already putting one into another bag by the time she hangs up. “Here, it’s on the house. Consider the muffin payment for having to do the runaround with him,” you tell her, giving her the additional paper sack.

“Thanks.” Setting her phone briefly on the counter, you notice her GPS is open and leading to her next location. Must be the second victim. While she’s still digging around in her purse, you take another look at the coordinates and easily recognize the address that’s rather close by. The woman, having found some spare change, drops the coins and handful of bills into the tip jar before gathering her things to leave. 

You watch her step out the door before glancing at the clock. “Hey Elanor, can you cover for me this afternoon?” 

Just more and more coincidences. 

                                                                 ~*~

The two story Air BNB house sits atop the brick foundation with a short stack of stairs leading up to the porch. Neatly trimmed hedges line the front with a decaying birdhouse that hangs on the lone tree. A fresh patch of grass grows over the plot of dirt where the blooming lilies and poppies once used to be, the colorful flowers always drawing your attention on your walk home from school as a kid. 

Before this became a vacation home, it used to be owned by Mrs. Reyes. She was the librarian for decades and so you were a familiar face since you were always studying there. She gave you the offer of coming by once or twice a week to help clean her two story home as dust easily collected all throughout the many rooms. 

It’s still strange being here in quite a few years. While you hadn’t planned on investigating the attack, after hearing about the other one from the reporter, you’re wondering if this really could be the work of something supernatural. Sure you could just tell Wolfy about it, but what can he do besides keep guarding the forest? It’s not like he can go into the city to investigate or talk with people. At the very least you can be lending a helping hand in the meantime. 

The faded white railing creaks as you use it to help steady yourself while you climb the steps. You knock on the wooden door while the wind briefly picks up and stirs the wind chimes hanging at the far end, the dull silver butterflies swaying in the air as the metal clinks faintly. Otherwise, it remains completely quiet. Normally, classical music would be seeping through the cracked open windows, but there’s only the swaying tree branches that serve as your ambience. 

There’s the sound of fast-paced footsteps and the door swings open, revealing blonde hair tied into an unkempt bun. If the brown-rimmed glasses aren’t already recognizable, then the burgundy cardigan draped over her shoulders surely is. What are the odds of you running into the rude customers from the coffee shop? If memory serves you correctly, you think her friend had called her Diane. 

“Can I help you?” She sighs. Dark bags hang just below her eyes as she practically stares through you. 

“Hi, I’m looking for Miranda Hutchins.”  

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m Y/N and I work with the local paper, the Hallow Howler,” you answer with a smile. “I don’t mean to intrude but I was hoping to speak with her about what happened in the woods.” Clearly you don’t work for the paper, but you figure at least it’s credible enough to investigate further into this mess. Better than saying you’re a barista with an apparent knack for sleuthing. 

She squints her eyes before asking, “Don’t you work at the coffee shop?” 

Of course. “I work there part-time, but this is my main job,” you smoothly respond. 

Diane stares back, eyeing you over while silently contemplating if you’re worth listening to. “Come in,” she eventually sighs, opening the door wider, revealing the foyer that used to be decorated with all sorts of landscape paintings but is now bare. 

As you step inside the warm house getting away from the chill air, you take a moment to examine the place you once knew. While the faded floral wallpaper has been updated with a fresh coat of green paint, the rest of the house looks about the same as you remember. At the entrance there are still little end tables with a vase of fake wildflowers on each one. You can’t help but notice the thin strings of cobwebs that decorate a few of the petals. At least the appliances have all been upgraded as you catch a glimpse of the kitchen from your position. The nineteenth century vintage stovetop with its multiple knobs and drawers is now replaced with a more modern type. Even the retro mint colored refrigerator has been replaced by a fancy silver one that has a touch screen on the door. 

Gesturing for you to follow, Diane takes you to the cozy living room, where a red couch and armchair sit in the middle facing away from the entrance. Against the wall, a new flatscreen tv sits on a stand, having replaced the old fashioned one as well. The channel is on some celebrity news show and you see someone with their legs propped up on the red velvet ottoman, bare feet sticking out from beneath the quilted blanket. 

“Diane, was that the delivery person with our takeout?” The person asks, turning their head to look over and your eyes end up meeting as you recognize the other woman who barked both their orders at you. “Why’s the barista here?” 

A part of you is almost impressed she can remember all the people she yells at. 

“She works part time there but also works with the local paper and wants to do an interview with you,” her friend explains, coming closer. “Do you need anything while I’m up?” 

“Yeah, some more water,” Miranda holds up the glass and Diane takes it before heading to the kitchen. You awkwardly shift on your feet, soles creating imprints on the faded beige carpet. “Are you just gonna stand there or actually ask whatever questions you supposedly have?” She snaps without looking away from the screen. 

Moving forward, you position yourself beside the couch before easing down into the side that’s closest to her. You pull out your phone, ensuring the notes with your questions are ready. “I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me. I’m Y/N by the way,” you introduce yourself, not that she actually pays much attention as she continues watching her show. “Are you sure you’re comfortable talking about this again?” You tentatively ask. 

She finally glances over to stare at you, her blue eyes rimmed red, the dark smudges beneath them tinted with exhaustion. Her black hair is tied in a messy ponytail with some strands sticking out in various directions. Even her clothes, though certainly some high-end fashion brand, are slightly disheveled. Her fuchsia long sleeve shirt is rumpled and seemingly drowns her within in the fabric. “Yeah,” she scoffs. “It’s not like I haven’t told my story over a dozen times at this point.” 

“I just wanted to make sure,” you respond politely, keeping the customer service voice enabled before your mouth gets the better of you. “Could you confirm when and where this happened exactly?”

“Maple Berry Way at about 9:30pm,” she recites just as Diane comes back with her water, setting it down on the little side table beside her before going to sit at the other end of the couch. 

Your fingers quickly type in the information. “And what were you doing there?” 

“Hiking.” Next to you, Diane hesitates to which Miranda gives a stern shake of her head in return. 

Resisting the urge to press further about their silent conversation, you focus on the next question. “Did you mostly stick to the main trails or did you go off the path?” 

“Stuck to the main trail, obviously,” Miranda scoffs. 

“I’m just asking questions to better understand what happened. Either way I’m not here to judge,” you reassure, silently noting her stiff posture. “So you were hiking on the main trails and then what?” 

Reaching for her glass, she takes a sip of water before setting it back down. “After I finished, I was on my way back to the car when I heard noises in the bushes. Next thing I know I was being mauled,” she answers, shifting in her seat. 

“Could you describe what attacked you?” 

“Not really, I was too busy screaming and trying to get away. But it was big, whatever it was.” 

“Do you know what kind of animal?”

A shrug. “Some kind of wolf I guess.”

Your fingers stutter in their movements, disrupting the rhythm as you clear your throat. “Any distinct features, something that maybe stood out to you?” 

Miranda readjusts again before shaking her head. Absentmindedly, she begins fidgeting with her necklace, fingers softly rubbing the sapphire pendant. “No, like I said, I was just trying to get away.” 

“There wasn’t anything that seemed odd about it?” 

“What do you mean?” She freezes, fingers still touching her jewelry, eyeing you strangely in return. 

You’re debating whether or not to outright ask before eventually saying, “Like, did it ever stand on its hind legs? Or you know, just attack in an abnormal way? Something that wasn’t quite natural?” Raising suspicions won’t do any good but at the same time she may have seen something at least. And if you earn any weird looks in return, then you’re just some believer of the supernatural, that’s all. 

Her eyes narrow as she sits upright from her slumped position. “How’d you know about that? Look all I said in that police report was that it was a big animal. I’m not some superstitious person that chases shadows in the night, okay? So don’t you dare write me off as crazy or anything.” As though catching herself a moment too late, she clamps her jaw, pivoting her head towards the bay windows that look out into the front lawn. 

Crazy wouldn’t be the word you’d use to describe her, or anyone for that matter. Belligerent or demanding, sure. But even if you were actually writing a story about this, you wouldn’t use those words either. You already know what it’s like having your theories dismissed by one person, a whole audience would be so much worse than that. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m here to listen to whatever you want to share. Just because something can’t be easily explained doesn’t mean that it’s not real or isn’t true. And who knows, you might not be the only one either.” 

“That other reporter said she was investigating another case too,” Diane quietly adds, her leg shaking as her bare foot taps the floor in rapid succession. 

“See?” You gently encourage, setting your phone down in between your legs as you lean forward slightly, trying to bring Miranda’s attention back to you. “This other person might’ve had a similar experience. If so, then it’d probably be a relief—for both of you, knowing that at least there’s someone else out there who experienced the same thing.” 

Breaking her gaze away from the window, she faces you once more, scowling though maybe not from your line of questioning. Uncertainty is clearly evident yet curiosity also lingers in her blue eyes. “Have you talked to this other person?”

“No, not yet,” you say, desperately hoping she doesn’t shut down the interview as a result of your lack of information involving this other case. 

She chews the inside of her cheek, contemplating something as her eyes shift to Diane before returning to you. “Do you know what the wolfman looks like?”

The sudden question takes you by surprise as your brows knit together though you’re sure your eyes widen in response. “Yeah,” you answer slowly. “Basically an extremely hairy or furry man with claws and teeth. Goes on murderous rampages, involuntarily transforms on a full moon, and is vulnerable to silver.” 

She sniffs in response, partially resembling a hint of a laugh. “You almost sound like some kind of expert.”

You can’t stop your own laugh from escaping. If only she knew. You’re certainly more so compared to others. “Thanks, but not exactly. Just a fan of the supernatural really.” 

“Anyway, basically like that, but without all the fur.” 

“So a person with wolf like features sharp claws, teeth, and all?” You try envisioning this creature, but the resulting image you conjure up doesn’t quite fit. All you really picture is Gollum from Lord of the Rings though more vicious and animalistic. 

Miranda grimaces, struggling for words. “In a way, but I said werewolf because that’s the closest thing it reminded me of except it wasn’t quite that. The features weren’t fully human and it just looked. . .evil.”

Evil? It makes you wonder if this is a similar situation to your run-in with the goblins. A will o’ the wisp had led you right to them that night, could the same one or one of its friends have done the same to her too? “Did you happen to notice anything else strange or peculiar that night? Like any glowing lights or maybe a weird sound?”

She stares at the carpet, lost in thought before slowly shaking her head though she doesn’t seem completely sure. From beside you, Diane stiffens and sharply inhales. “What about shining lights?” She softly murmurs, drawing both you and Miranda’s attention though the dark-haired woman catches her eyes. Both exchange looks with each other, an exclusively private conversation that’s between them. Diane silently pleads to her friend only for it to be disregarded by her friend’s hard expression in return. 

It prompts your memory to recall a crucial piece of information from the few articles you’ve been reading about the incident. “Wait, were both of you out there that night?” All the reports indicated there was only one victim. 

“No.”

“Yes,” Diane softly answers at the same time. Miranda sends her a scathing glare to which she helplessly responds with, “We already told the police.” 

“So? She’s with the press and if this gets leaked, you’re screwed.” 

You glance between the two of them. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Diane ignores the warning look Miranda sends her way. “My father is well-known. Actually he’s the CEO of Keaton Enterprises and word would’ve spread quickly if the media found out about the attack,” she explains, despite her friend’s obvious pissed-off facial expression. 

“I won’t say anything,” you blurt, hoping they don’t get suspicious of your quick reassurance. While you truly do wish to prove your integrity, you also hope they don’t catch the hint of fear in your tone at the realization that her father runs the company your dad works for now. “Especially if you want your identity kept a secret. And if everyone knows it’s just one victim, we can stick with that,” you promise and Miranda rolls her eyes in return. 

She shifts in her seat before taking another sip from her glass. “Like we’d believe you. You’re not the first journalist to spout supposed honest shit like that.” 

“But I mean it,” you insist, “you’re identities aren’t important. I just want to hear from you directly to prevent misinformation from spreading about what attacked you.” At your mention of the attack, both women glance at one another before awkwardly looking away. “You can be honest with me. I’m not the paparazzi. I just want to know the truth.” 

Surprisingly, it’s Miranda that speaks first, her voice somewhat low. “We could barely believe our own eyes.” 

“Our minds can play tricks on us, but when our imaginations run wild that can make something seemingly normal a true nightmare.”

She shakes her head, black hair whipping furiously. “That’s what we’ve been telling ourselves, that the dark shadows were to blame and that it was just a normal predator. But it wasn’t.” 

“And that’s okay, it’s why I’m here. Just try the best you can,” you encourage them. “Maybe let’s start with what you both were really doing out there that night.” When they visibly stiffen, you’re quick to reassure them again, “No personal information will be published without your consent.” 

Both of them still look apprehensive before Diane sighs. “We were out drinking. Just a bottle of vodka between the two of us, nothing to make us too drunk. After having a busy day, we just wanted to let off some steam. While we were out there, we started hearing rustling in the forest. First it was quiet and far away, but as we started walking back to the main trail so we could get to the parking lot, something came running out and hit Miranda.” 

“Could you describe the approximate size?” You ask. 

“Big,” Miranda answers. “Probably similar to a bear but resembling more of a wolf.” 

“Except it stood on two legs.”

“Yeah.”

A humanoid figure but with animalistic features, no wonder they kept saying werewolf. “That’s why you mentioned werewolves.” 

“Not that it mattered because the cops are convinced we were just drunk off our asses and imagining it. Well, that I was too drunk,” she amends, a sharp edge in her voice and you catch Diane wince slightly. 

“Do you remember any particular features that it had? Face, build, things like that?” 

“Like, a hairless werewolf, I guess.” Diana grimaces in thought. “Maybe it was actually thin fur but the face looked sort of human while the body had long limbs with all the claws and teeth. Hence the wolfman comparison.” 

“What did it do next?” You ask, still typing furiously on your phone. 

From her seat, Miranda scoffs, “What do you think? It attacked us. Or me, specifically.” She points to her gauze-wrapped leg that’s propped on the ottoman. 

“Miranda,” Diane softly scolds and turns to address you. “What she means is that thing didn’t hesitate once it saw us. Maybe we caught it by surprise when it came out of nowhere,” she guesses, “but there wasn’t any fear, just anger.” 

“It could’ve possibly been hungry or rabid,” you theorize. 

They shake their heads. “No, I don’t think so,” Diane says to which you look up in confusion. “When it bit Miranda, I slammed the vodka bottle over its head but it didn’t even react. Only when it kept biting at her did it eventually stop before taking off.” 

Your fingers remain hovering above the screen of your phone and they helplessly shrug at your perplexed look. “It just stopped?” 

“I know, it doesn’t make sense but that’s what happened. Something got it to stop, but nothing else was out there besides us. It was like a spell or the bloodlust was broken.” 

At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if a witch or warlock were suddenly added to the mix. Will o’ the wisps, werewolves, and witches, oh my. “Could this be related to what you said earlier?” You look towards Diane. “About the shining thing you saw?”

“Maybe. Before it showed up, I thought I saw something shining or reflecting off the moonlight somewhere among the trees just before it attacked. But for all I know it was my eyes playing tricks on me.” 

“The cops sure seemed to think so,” Miranda mutters. 

“How bad are your injuries?” You ask her, looking at her bundled form. 

She carefully eases the blanket back, revealing several long scratches that range from her thigh to her shin. In the middle of her thigh is a dark purple bruise. 

“And is that where you were bit?” You ask, leaning a little closer but there’s no teeth marks anywhere to be found. 

“Exactly where that disgusting bruise is at. And before you ask, yes, they didn’t find any cuts either. They think it probably just got close to breaking the skin but I know what I felt,” she insists. “My flesh was being torn apart.” 

Despite her claims, her skin shows a different story. Maybe in the moment it felt like her skin was being torn open, but the lacerations aren’t actually that deep. “Does your leg feel weird where you got bit?” 

“Not really, just…itchy,” she responds, her fingers automatically reach to scratch but she stops when Diane’s about to intercept. “I know, I know.” She gently massages the area instead. “I insisted they give me a rabies shot and everything else just in case.” 

One can only hope that modern medicine will be enough to combat any diseases from possible supernatural creatures. 

                                                                 ~*~

On your day off, you head to the opposite end of town towards Maple Berry Way in the hopes of finding anything useful about this strange creature that attacked the women. Maybe the police had missed something or believed it wasn’t crucial to the case. As you ride your bike, you stay on the sidewalk even though cars hardly ever come down this street as it’s rather secluded and takes you away from the heart of town. Even hikers and those who enjoy the outdoors tend to take other trails that are more lively and frequented.

As you reach the entrance, you hop off your bike and leave it resting against a tree that’s behind one of the few weathered-down benches near the road. No other cars are in the parking lot, leaving the area vacant like usual. Your feet leave indents in the sinking gravel as it throws your gait off-kilter until you reach the flat area where the path begins. Starting your trek down the dirt path, you follow the map on your phone where Miranda and Diane had marked the general area of the attack as best as they could remember, continuing toward the blue dot while looking for any evidence as you do. 

Most of the trees are almost bare, with only a handful of brown leaves left in patches on some branches. An old wooden sign sits at an angle, the arrow pointing downwards instead of the direction it’s supposed to be in as you walk by. You can’t even make out the original writing as the letters are faded. 

Up ahead, you catch a glimpse of a little orange flag peeking out from beneath the overgrown grass slightly away from the trail. You inspect the ground where remnants of shattered glass are still scattered about. This must be where they broke the bottle over the creature’s head. Avoiding the shards, you step carefully around the space, looking for any other clues but there’s not even a trace of blood whatsoever. You continue walking around, careful not to disturb any of the crime scene, but everything seems relatively normal. If they hadn’t told you about the bottle, you would’ve just assumed people were out here drinking and accidentally broke it. Basically normal. 

“Can I help you?” A deep voice asks, startling you with a jolt. Turning around, you find two guys standing in dark clothes, the shine of police badges peek out from behind their jackets. Leave it to you to run into the cops. The one who spoke has pitch black hair perfectly styled to the side, revealing his smooth forehead and the arched brow that’s lifted, awaiting an answer. Beside him stands another man who’s slightly shorter with a mop of dark brown hair that makes him appear rather young. 

“Hi, um, I’m just here to investigate the recent attack. The crime scene has been cleared so the public is allowed in now,” you answer, hoping it sounds as confident and professional as you try to seem. 

“Yes, but our specific department still needs to gather more information so if you could come back tomorrow we’d be most appreciative,” the taller one explains, giving you an apologetic yet polite smile in return.

While he may be actually telling the truth, there’s no doubt that him or his department doesn’t exactly want you snooping around the area. Even if they haven’t found anything, this guy is smooth and most likely a pro at deflection. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in charge of public relations for the station. 

Before you can respond, rustling sounds from nearby as another person appears from amongst the trees. “Hey, Namjoon, should we split up and check the northeastern area for—what’re you doing here?” The familiar voice wonders, original question abruptly replaced by another one. Yoongi, dressed in his usual hoodie carries a backpack over his shoulder, stops abruptly upon seeing you. His tone is hard, annoyed almost, so different compared to his usual demeanor.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you reply.  

“We know each other,” is his pointed answer. “Besides, my help was requested by the department. Did they give you the same clearance?” 

“No,” you scoff, fishing a small paper from your pocket and briefly flashing it to them. “It’s my journalist pass, and technically we don’t need them since the crime scene is currently clear now.” 

His brows raise at that, humor glinting in his eyes as though he can clearly see right through your lie. “You’re a journalist too?”

The shorter man besides his tall partner with the deep voice smiles excitedly. “You work at the Hallow Howler too? That’s cool, so do I! I’m new so I don’t think we’ve met. What department do you work in?”

You’ve got to be kidding. Luck just can’t give you enough of a break. “Actually I’m more of an intern,” you backpedal, “my mom’s the journalist.” Was, your brain silently corrects. Technically you did borrow her press pass just for a moment like this. As long as they don’t notice that the expiration date is almost a decade old. “I’m just here inspecting the area while she follows some other leads.” 

“Oh that’s cool! What’s her name?” The same guy asks, seemingly oblivious to your deceptions. Next to him, Yoongi faintly smirks, also expectantly waiting to hear your answer. 

While you say her name, you frantically think of something else to switch topics to before you somehow slip up. “So is there much evidence besides the broken glass?”

“This is still technically an open investigation, we can’t disclose any of that yet.” Yoongi interrupts before the journalist can answer. 

“Once we fill out our report and get all the details, we’d be happy to release it to the public.” The tall guy, Namjoon you presume, also responds.

“Then can I at least get statements from you, your partner, and your…assistant?” 

“Yeah, though we’re still searching for evidence on what kind of animal this might’ve been which I’m sure is what you’re mainly wanting to know,” the shorter guy answers remorsefully.

Namjoon clears his throat. “I know that’s what everyone is most concerned about and we’re working quickly to figure that out. You’ll even be the first to know if that’s any consolation.” 

“Does that have anything to do with checking the northeast area?” You point out and Yoongi narrows his eyes. 

“We’re just covering our bases.”

“Are you checking that direction to rule out nothing came from the supposed legendary dark forest?” You guess. 

While you know your question would throw out any credibility as a serious journalist, the sudden widening of the shorter guy’s eyes is enough to send your mind into hyperawareness. Even Namjoon inquisitively glances over to Yoongi who’s glaring you down. 

“All those fairytales are seriously getting to your head,” he tells you snidely. 

“Yeah, then it must be spreading because even the victim isn’t exactly sure what she saw.” 

“Because she was drunk, terrified and in complete darkness,” he dismisses. 

“Either way, something dangerous is out there.” 

Namjoon hesitates before interjecting, “I’d be happy to talk with you privately once we finish up here if that’s alright. But he’s right, the dark forest is just a myth.” 

If only that were true. “Maybe you’re right. And that’s very much appreciated but I think I’ll follow some other leads in the meantime. I understand this area is closed off so I’ll make my way to Briar’s Creek,” you politely answer. While not too far away, you have to head northeast to get there and the others seem to know this as well. Even if he’s throwing you a bone, you’re not biting. You doubt you’d get much out of him anyway. There’s too much authority within his tone, this man has definitely done plenty of damage control and PR speeches. 

“Unfortunately, none of the forest is considered completely safe as we don’t know where this supposed creature is,” Namjoon says. “We’d advise not wandering alone. That goes for everyone, even if it’s overcautious on our part.” 

“But what about for you all? That’s a lot of land to investigate and there’s only three of you here. Isn’t that just as dangerous for you too?” 

“We have time as well as weapons for self-defense,” Yoongi reassures though a precursory glance shows none to be openly found. “They’re concealed if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

“If temporarily assisting us with this part of the investigation will put your mind, and questions, at ease, we can allow that,” Namjoon amends much to everyone’s surprise. Yoongi sends him a dark look but doesn’t object. 

At this point, you’ll take whatever information you can get. “Actually that would be great, thanks.” 

“It makes things even,” the shorter guy adds, “and you’re more than welcome to come with me.” 

“Perhaps you should head east with Yoongi,” Namjoon suggests to you. “Jimin and I can check the north since there’s less pathways.” 

You spare a glance down at your shoes, just an old pair of sneakers that have certainly seen better days. Probably should’ve gone with actual hiking boots. “Sounds good,” you tell him, smiling before following after Yoongi who’s already on the move. 

While the other two head in the adjacent direction, you walk after Yoongi as you try to catch up. The quiet ambience of the woods and two sets of footsteps are the only sounds for a few minutes before you bluntly ask, “Why the cold shoulder?” 

His face pinches at your question before he uneasily looks away. “I’m not giving you the cold shoulder.” 

“Fine, then why’re so grumpy?” He’s never been this cold with you except for maybe the first time you met after he caught you falling in the library. It’s not like him, and it makes you wonder what could possibly be bothering him. Unless he was sour before, something about your presence here has him upset. 

Sighing, he shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders while ducking beneath to avoid a low hanging branch. “Because I’d rather be somewhere else than here on some wild goose chase,” he admits. “And everyone seems convinced there’s some monster in the woods when it’s probably just a wild animal.” 

“Those two seem like they could handle this on their own. Why do they need you?” It’s not a scathing remark, but genuine curiosity that drives your questioning. 

“I told you, I know my way around these woods. Better than they do as they’re both still new and getting acquainted with the area.” 

“Seems like you all know each other pretty well,” you comment, struggling to watch your footing while also trying to keep up with him. 

Yoongi stays quiet for a moment before admitting, “We live together for the time being.” 

“So this is more of a favor and not an extra side gig.” 

“Basically,” he nods, attention more so focused on his surroundings as he scans the woods. Besides the occasional draft of wind, hardly anything stirs except for the sporadic falling leaves. “Just helping them out since it’s the least I can do.” Yoongi glances over at you. “What’s your motive? Honestly.” 

You point a finger at yourself. “Me?” Shrugging, you’re about crouch beneath another low branch but Yoongi lifts it, holding it up so you can easily walk under. “Thanks. Look, I just want to get to the bottom of this before more people get hurt.” And to also figure this out before the wrong people come investigating the woods and end up finding a certain werewolf. 

“That’s why there’s an ongoing investigation. Do you not trust law enforcement to take care of it?”

“No.”

Your immediate answer catches him off-guard as he lets out an involuntary laugh. It’s the first smile you’ve seen today, resembling his relaxed demeanor you’ve already grown used to. “Okay, fair point. And I get it, I really do. But that’s why Namjoon’s department was called in to provide assistance. They specialize in complicated animal attacks like this one,” he mutters, apparently already expecting your response. 

“So there is something going on,” you confirm. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose and runs his fingers along his cheekbones. “No, they’re here to determine the exact cause. And before you ask, no, they can’t confirm anything yet until they rule out all factors.” 

“But it’s complicated enough that a whole department specialized in strange cases has to come out and determine what happened.” Yoongi looks away while you mull over your own words. Department specialized in strange cases. If magic exists, and something supernatural is possibly the culprit, then are the cops also aware of it? How deep would it all go? Is that why Namjoon, and whatever department he represents, is here? To determine if a werewolf or something else is responsible for the attack?

And then a horrifying thought comes crashing into focus. A shiver cascades along your nerve endings and it feels as if a bucket of ice water is poured down your back. Is this department specialized in hunting supernatural creatures? What if they’re here for Wolfy? 

You glance over at Yoongi who’s staring intensely off into the distance, seemingly listening for something. He did say they have concealed weapons for protection, apparently himself included. “See anything suspicious?” You wonder, drawing his attention away from the tree line as he jerks his head to you. 

“No. Sorry, got lost in thought.” 

“So I can’t help but wonder,” you start, choosing your words carefully while he waits, “do you really think the victim was exaggerating what she experienced?”

Your eyes meet and hold his and you see a flicker of remorse from within before he exhales. “Saying yes would be easier, less complicated,” he admits, “but no, I think she saw something that terrified her. But assuming it’s supernatural or anything like that is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

For once, you’re willing to accept his dose of reality. “Actually, yeah, I agree. There’s got to be some sort of logical explanation, we just have to find it.” And get them to leave your wolf alone, damn it. 

“Exactly.”

“I mean, given the victim’s description, it could just be someone in a costume that attacked her.” 

“What?” He glances at you in confusion until realization dawns. “Oh, did you interview the victim by pretending to be some journalist? Did you flash them the expired press pass and she just didn’t think twice?” Yoongi smirks, shaking his head while he deftly climbs over a log. 

How could he actually see the date standing several feet away? You set your jaw, refusing to be sidetracked by his rather astute observation. “Look, you may think this is being blown out of proportion and just a waste of time, but there are others at risk. I have friends in the area that may be in danger.” You follow after him, hoisting yourself up the log with a grunt of exertion. He offers you his hand, patiently waiting while you crouch down before grasping it. 

With a swift tug, Yoongi pulls you forward and you yelp at the sudden shift in weight, falling directly into him. Mind going blank, you barely have time to process that you’re in his arms before he sets you down. “Pretty noble of you to go all private detective the moment your town is in possible danger,” he notes, releasing you before slowly backing away. 

Even through your clothes, you can still feel the warmth of his fingers that grazed along your waist before you shake your head in an attempt to reorient yourself. “Oh, please,” you scoff. “I’m just a concerned citizen if anything. And besides, this is a problem for the wildlife because if people start assuming it’s a dangerous wolf, then any local wolves in the area could be killed,” you say, your thoughts automatically returning to Wolfy. Supernatural strength or not, the general public wouldn’t take kindly to him. There’d be mass panic and hunters would be out in full force. 

“I’m pretty sure your wolves will be fine,” he answers.

“Not if scared people take matters into their own hands,” you counter.

After passing beneath another drooping branch, the ground shifts, tilting downwards with cracks of rocks and roots protruding out sporadically. Both of you take the earthen made steps carefully, doing your best not to slip. Yoongi stays beside you, keeping his arm just within reach should you stumble. Once you’re near the bottom where the floor levels off, does he finally answer. “Y/N. It’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about, trust me.”

When you reach the flat surface, you continue walking until a flurry of crunched leaves come from just ahead. Yoongi rushes in front of you and you watch as a cute, little dormouse scurries across before diving into another pile of large auburn leaves, squeaking as it does so. He lets out a huff and you notice that his hands are curled open, as though he were about to take a swipe at it. 

“Then why are you nervous?” You wonder, to which he immediately relaxes his stance and looks at you from over his shoulder. 

“I’m not,” he laughs. 

“Well, you’re not completely at ease either.” Realization dawns. “That’s why you’re upset, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, walking forward until you grab a hold of his sleeve, forcing him to face you. Yoongi stops, standing still as he uses his shoe to lightly kick at the pile of dead leaves. “No, I’m frustrated that there’s no definitive answer as to what exactly did this. It’s hard to tell based off what they’ve found which isn’t much.” You continue to skeptically glare at him before he lets out an exasperated sigh upon sensing it. “Okay, fine. It is a little worrying. Is that the response you’re looking for?” 

Keeping a tight grip on his sleeve so he can’t turn or walk away, you ask, “What do actually think did this?” 

“Not a wolf, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he answers. He’s looking at you now, unwavering and without a trace of doubt. “And what about you?”

Suddenly, you feel shy almost, having your questioning redirected back at you. His dark umber eyes feel as though they’re piercing straight into your mind. Like he’s searching for something. Confirmation? Honesty? You’re not sure. But it’s you that ultimately breaks eye contact before you release your hold of him. “Same,” is all you say. 

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” Yoongi notes, moving in between the clusters of trees. 

It’s annoying that he can just render you speechless with hardly any effort. And from such a simple question too. 

“Are you coming?” He calls from up ahead and you rush after him before you get left behind. 

Huffing, you try keeping up, doing your best to not trip or get caught on any stray roots. “Slow down, will you?” 

Though your complaint is cut off by your own yelp as you stumble unexpectedly. You flail, pushing your arms out so you don’t faceplant into the ground. Instead, a hand grabs your elbow and you spin as your falling momentum gets realigned before you pivot, swinging directly into a warm body. You grab onto Yoongi, his other hand now holding your waist to keep you from falling backwards. Your hands had automatically reached out for support and now you’re clutching onto his shoulders as well. 

Others would consider this a romantic pose, sweet, yet this feels. . .comfortable. “Why’re you really out here? Even if you’re a concerned citizen, people don’t usually just start getting involved themselves.” 

For a minute this felt briefly comfortable. “To look for answers,” you say. 

“Why not just let the people do their job?”

Of course you should just let the professionals handle it. But then they might find out a werewolf has been living in the forest, so close to civilization. A part of you wishes you could just tell him the real reason, but he probably won’t believe you. And even if he did, should you even be sharing secrets like this anyway? Despite that, the words are practically at your lips, on the verge of being spoken aloud. But instead you swallow them. “They could miss something and not know that it’s important.”

“And you would?” 

“No, but I have a friend who might. They know their way around these woods too.” 

“And you trust them?”

“Yes.” You say it so fast that it surprises even yourself. 

The moment the word leaves your lips, you watch something shift within his eyes. It’s like a droplet of caramel hitting a pool of coffee and then spreading out, replacing the dark brown with a lighter shade. 

You don’t even realize that your hands have moved until you feel the ends of his long hair grazing along your fingertips. They almost have a mind of their own, acting of their own accord as they reach up and get lost in his head of hair, feeling the soft strands. Flinching, you pull away and the sudden movement breaks the spell weaving you two together as you both let go. 

Looking down at your feet, you find something metallic hidden between the blades of grass. You get closer, bending down to investigate the strange object and Yoongi crouches beside you as well. It’s a statue that’s about a foot long, depicting an angel with feathered wings open wide. In her left hand she holds a lantern while in her right is a staff with a crystalline orb attached at the top. Down at her feet are a bunch of flowers. Inspecting it closer, you see there’s writing engraved at the base that reads Radiance Everlasting. 

“Radiance Everlasting?” You murmur the words aloud. It’s a pretty statue, but it’s odd that something this intricate would be all the way out here, seemingly in the middle of the woods. Surely someone wouldn’t forget to leave something like this behind. 

Yoongi mutters under his breath and you think you catch the words, “damn nuisances.”

“Does this mean something to you?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I’m sure the department will have an idea,” is all he says before taking off his backpack and unzipping it. “We’ll send it in as evidence and see what they can find.” 

“Wait, at least let me get a picture of it first,” you protest. Retrieving your phone, you snap a quick shot of it.  

“Hang on, we don’t even know if it’s related to the case. You can’t just share it on your blog, I mean, your article,” he emphasizes with a pointed look much to your chagrin. 

“I’m not going to say anything about it,” is your quick reassurance. “But I can at least do some research of my own.”

Rifling through his backpack, he pulls out a purple bandana. Using the cloth, he picks up the strange artifact and places it inside a plastic bag. It’s then that you manage to catch a glimpse of what’s inside. “Going camping later?” You presume, noticing the extra pair of clothes. 

“I’m not planning on it, those are just extra in case I need to crash somewhere else for the night,” is his response, zipping the bag before standing upright. He’s already walking while you stare at his back before following after him.

Curiosity has different common scenarios running through your mind, yet you can’t help but press further. “Don’t you live nearby?”

“Yeah, but sometimes I stay for a few days at a friend’s place.” 

As you continue walking, your eyes wander across the trees and ground, looking for any sign of something out of the ordinary. You see a set of pawprints, a wolf’s pawprints to be exact. Although it doesn’t seem like they’re from your wolf unless he was running around here recently on four legs. Reaching for your phone, you snap some more pictures of the tracks.  

“Taking more pictures for your blog, I guess,” Yoongi wonders, hearing the shutter click as he looks back at you with a smirk. But the grin fades when he takes note of the prints though he doesn’t comment on them. 

“You know,” you say, turning back to face him, “I’d sure love to see this supposed blog you think I have. At this point, even I’m wondering if it actually exists.”

“So the research is for stories then,” he presumes. “Or is it art?”

“Neither.” 

He looks at you expectantly, waiting. “You said once that the research is for fun. Which kind of fun?”

Oh, if only he knew. “Werewolves and all sorts of supernatural creatures interest me. I like learning about them even if they might not be real. Gives me a better understanding of them, you know?” 

The sideways look he gives is indiscernible, an expression you can’t quite pinpoint. It almost seems like painful longing or desperation. Or you’re just misinterpreting things. “Yes, actually I can understand.”   

When he doesn’t elaborate, you eventually ask, “So then what’s yours?”

“My what?” 

“Your interest, the thing you know or want to know everything about, even if it’s not for work or considered worth your time?”

He blinks, incredulous. “Are you asking me what my hobbies are?”

“Yes. Though would you consider researching supernatural creatures a hobby?” Under your circumstances, it almost feels like a case study of sorts. It makes you wonder how Wolfy would take it knowing that he’s been your main subject. He’d probably flick his tail against your back like he tends to do. 

“Not all hobbies have to be skills which you perfect over time, Y/N,” Yoongi says, drawing you from your internal musings. “You learning about fantasy creatures is still knowledge you gain.” 

“Even if I can’t apply it to “reality”?” You snort, doing air quotes at the end. 

He stops walking, staring at you directly. “Is that what you believe?” He murmurs, his voice gentle. 

“No,” is your immediate answer and you stumble over your words as you attempt to explain when he quirks a brow. “It’s more so just my parents would consider it a waste of time. Not that they’d try discouraging me, they just wouldn’t understand the purpose or use of it. They’re very,” you struggle to find the right word, “technical, analytical, take your pick.” 

“So I assume they’re not too fond of the arts then.” 

You wince, pursing your lips. “Well, no, they understand the concept of creativity and inspiration. It’s just, they see things from a realistic perspective. Why spend all your time learning about creatures that don’t exist when you could be learning about actual wolves instead?”

“Regardless of what they think, you’re doing something you enjoy. Even if it means sneaking around through a crime scene and interviewing traumatized victims,” he jokes, and you lightly smack his arm in retaliation.  

“You make me sound like some suspect that’s inserting themselves into the investigation.”

He rubs the spot where you hit him, still smiling. “Clearly you’re not because you’re terrible at it. I’m kidding,” he laughs when you playfully scowl at him. “You just got unlucky by running into us.”

“Got that right. Your friend sure is proficient with his words.”

“Namjoon? Yeah, he’s been with the agency for a while and he’s an experienced communications liaison.” 

“Honestly,” you mutter as he states what you already guessed. “He’s certainly good at dodging questions like someone else I happen to know.” 

Your implication is met with him rolling his eyes as he shakes his head. “I’m not dodging questions. Going back to your earlier one,” he shrugs, “I guess my hobby is cooking though I don’t always have time. Like right now for instance,” he indicates to the sunlight that’s slowly descending below the trees and it’s then that you notice how the sky is a glowing orange rather than the clear blue it once was. “We should probably head back. It’ll be dark soon,” he recommends.

“Well, if you ever need a taste tester I don’t mind volunteering,” you offer, feeling your face immediately grow warm beneath his gaze, the faint amber of his eyes returning. “I mean, it’s the least I can do since you always try my various coffee flavors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi says with a fond smile. 

Both of you begin heading back towards the main trail and it surprisingly doesn’t take long as you’re soon arriving at the parking lot. “Will you be out searching tomorrow too?”

“No, most of the evidence has already been logged. We just came out to do one last thorough check. And good thing too,” he notes, nodding to you, “because we could’ve missed that statue. Thanks for the help.”

You shrug. “All in a day’s work.” Stepping across the uneven gravel, you make your way back towards your bike. “So how’d all of you get here?” You wonder, motioning to the empty space where not a single car is in sight. 

“Jimin and Namjoon took Joon’s scooter,” he motions to where you just barely see a lilac colored moped parked near the tree line, “and I walked.”

“Wait, is that his personal vehicle? Because I like it and kind of want it now. And why’re you always walking around everywhere?”

“Yeah, it’s his. Let’s just say a scooter is more his speed. And he really enjoys it, so good luck getting him to give it up. As for your other question, I just prefer walking compared to vehicles in general. It’s just easier. Why does it matter?”

“Because that’s a lot of walking to do, not to mention more time to get everywhere. I know this is a small town, but this area is still a ways out.” 

“There’s a lot of different trails that I use for shortcuts.” 

“You know what? I’ll take your word for it. See you tomorrow hopefully.” 

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll probably stop by the coffee shop for a bit. Have a good night.” 

You tell him the same and he watches you get on your bike, standing in the middle of the lot while you ride away. 

                                                                 ~*~

Like most days, the shop is bustling with people coming in and out for hot drinks and to warm up before going back out into the chilly weather. And true to his word, the next day Yoongi is there that afternoon wearing his hoodie as always. 

“Just your usual black coffee?” You ask, and he nods. 

The bell chimes again. More groups of customers stepping inside while a few exit with their food and drinks. 

“Okay, for here, right?” You turn towards him, already holding the porcelain mug in your hands. 

As he opens his mouth to respond, his eyes go wide, brown bleeding into a glowing scarlet and it’s like he’s looking through you at something else. His hands tense, sharp nails digging into the counter, creating jagged lines in the worn wood. 

From behind him, you see two customers in line with one looking around the shop while the other raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. You hadn’t paid them any mind, yet now you can’t help but notice the one watching Yoongi as the bulging muscles of his arms seem to flex with every move. How often does he work out? 

“To go, please.” You barely hear Yoongi mumble, his voice low and practically unheard amidst the loud sounds of blenders and people talking. He releases a shaky breath as he hunches over and rests his palms on the counter. 

“Okay. You alright?” You ask, concerned by his odd demeanor. 

Yoongi’s still for a minute as though processing your words. “Yeah, fine.” He takes a breath, inhaling deeply and the crimson soon fades away, melding into liquid caramel instead. He sniffles and wipes a finger across his nose. 

“Hey, I can help with the next one while you help him,” Elanor mutters from behind, causing you to jump slightly. 

Both you and Yoongi move to the side as Elanor takes over at the register. 

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” 

“Yeah.” His attempt to reassure you isn’t exactly convincing. “Just got a headache all of a sudden.”

“I think I have some painkillers in my bag if you need some,” you tell him, pouring his coffee into a recycled cup before handing it to him. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll probably head home and take a nap. See you later,” he says, quickly taking his drink and immediately leaving before you can so much as wave goodbye. 

Later that night, you realize that Wolfy isn’t here today either. Strange. Maybe he has other things to do. As you continue down the path, you hear a low rumble in the distance. Your feet slow to a stop so you can listen more. 

Straining your ears, it takes a minute before you hear a bark out in the distant forest. You head off the trail and begin going towards the general direction of the sound. There’s a good chance this isn’t Wolfy as he’s definitely not the only canine out here. But what if it is? 

Without the light from the lampposts, seeing is difficult and you have to resort to using your phone’s flashlight so you can watch your step. Intuition is smacking your curiosity within you, reminding you of what happened the last time you went exploring in the woods at night. Yeah, you were almost eaten alive but you were led astray by a will o’ the wisp. And you got to meet Wolfy as a result. 

A cawing crow startles you and you nearly stumble into a tree as a result. Looking up, you raise your light high and find the blackbird staring down at you from a leafless branch. Wasn’t there a crow Halloween night too? It caws again before taking flight, swooping right over your head and you duck away. 

By the time you look up, you see it heading back the direction you came. You think. Just to confirm, and actually be on the safe (smart) side, you check the GPS on your phone to ensure you know how to get back to civilization. 

From not too far away, you hear a louder bark that’s followed by a growl. Shutting your light off, you continue walking closer. There’s a break in the trees as the forest grows thinner and you hide behind a bush before cautiously peeking over the bramble. 

In a small clearing are two men and one very pissed-off werewolf. What once was a grassy field now resembles a battlefield as destroyed trees are scattered across with trunks splintered and branches snapped. Both men’s clothes and hair are slightly disheveled, but otherwise they remain in one piece, and it’s then that you recognize the one with big muscles from the coffee shop earlier today. The werewolf, on the other hand, has a few thin open wounds across its arms and upper torso. All the noises you’ve been hearing must’ve been from their fighting. A brawl you’ve just idiotically walked in on.

Another growl sounds from the lupine that reverberates the ground beneath you. Though the moonlight doesn’t help much, you can tell it’s not Wolfy, the body being more lithe and fur being a lighter shade than his. Its lips peel back, showcasing sharp fangs as it snaps its jaws in warning. The taunt has the two men adjusting their stances, leaning down into crouches as they prepare to lunge while you can only watch in muted horror, unsure of what to do. 

You flinch in anticipation, preparing for the brutal fight to restart, until a loud cawing sounds from behind. Slowly looking over your shoulder, you see the black bird sitting nonchalantly in the branches of the tree, quizzically staring back at you. It cries again and you wave your arm in a pathetic attempt to try and silence it. 

Instead, it does a nosedive, buzzing you in the process and lets out another caw. You hiss for it to pipe down, but it simply squawks in return. Nearly getting a face full of feathers, you duck low but trip into the bush, the branches breaking your fall with a loud cascading crunch as you fall forward and hit the ground. 

Lifting your head, you ease up and see the men and werewolf staring directly at you. Crap. You fumble with the half-dented bush and get to your feet. None of them have moved, but even if you run now, you’re not sure that it’ll make much difference. Maybe you could lose the guys, but not a freaking werewolf. 

When the one guy you’ve never seen before takes a step towards you, the wolf growls before lunging at him. The coffee shop guy actually tackles the werewolf, forcing it to the ground. Both begin fighting, the guy avoiding a near bite to the arm as they both try getting to their feet and gaining the upper hand. While they’re duking it out, the first guy shoots forward, suddenly appearing directly in front of you.

How the hell did he move so fast? Dread pools within your stomach upon realizing that they’re not human either.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine,” the man murmurs softly, his eyes flaring bright ruby red before he utters a word you can’t understand.

Your body stills, rushing thoughts going quiet as your fear evaporates. It’s not that you feel calm, just…quiet. Like your emotions have been sedated with a dose of tranquility. What’s wrong with you? You try forcing yourself to move, but even internally you feel lethargic, and your limbs won’t cooperate. 

“Relax and listen to my words,” the man says, his command instantly filling you with ease. “You will forget us and what you saw here. You’re going to turn around and go home once I—”

Before he can finish, he’s slammed by something dark and massive, causing you to break free from whatever spell or magic he cast as you fall to your knees. You see the large werewolf loom above the man, keeping itself in between you two. It growls in warning while the guy merely stares up at it in return, shifting his weight as he adjusts his stance.

A blurred figure appears from the trees before a third werewolf joins everyone. Sparing a quick glance at the wolf next to you, it heads towards the other one still engaged with coffee shop guy before joining in on the fight.

Since they’re all preoccupied, you finally take the opportunity to run back into the woods. Your feet dash across the forest floor, shoving tree limbs and shrubs aside as you head in what you hope is the right direction of the main trail. Flapping bird wings sound from above and you look up to find the same crow flying in the air. It lets out another caw, gliding in between the trees as it stares down at you.

For all you know it could be leading you to more trouble, yet you don’t have time to think about it before something eventually tries coming after you. So you follow after the bird and thankfully soon notice the shining lamps from the path. Pushing yourself faster, you race towards the lightened area and emerge from the forest only to crash straight into someone.

The person grunts from the impact but manages to keep from falling over completely as they stumble back a few steps. “What the hell? Y/N?” They ask, and you immediately recognize the voice. You pull away and find Yoongi standing before you, straightening his shirt to get rid of the rumpled creases where your face once was a second ago. 

“Yoongi? What’re you doing out here?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder into the dark wilderness but find nothing chasing after you. Maybe those guys and the werewolves will keep each other distracted until you both can get far enough away. 

That hopeful thought is struck down as a loud howl pierces the night sky. Your eyes widen as you look to Yoongi, wracking your brain for an excuse or casual response only for him to beat you to it. “We should get out of here,” he suggests, and you agree, not even hesitating to trek down the path with him, intent on going straight home. 

“Maybe you should head home too. I can manage the rest of the way,” you say, but he shakes his head, keeping his hand against the small of your back. 

“Just walk, Y/N,” he tells you, his voice tight. 

The two of you walk in silence, only your quickened footsteps sounding against the dirt as you stay within the dim glow of the guiding path lights. You resist the urge to look back, afraid of seeing what could be lurking in the shadows while Yoongi’s eyes flicker in every direction, checking either side of the forest for anything drawing near. A snapping branch can be heard from the right and Yoongi immediately slows his pace, keeping his position standing just in front of you. 

Another twig snaps from behind and you both whirl to find a guy standing on the trail, another one you haven’t met before. The bangs of his brown hair hang just above his eyes and overall he seems like an ordinary guy, down to the band t-shirt, skinny jeans, and converse. “Oh sorry,” he apologizes, giving a bashful smile as he rubs the side of his arm, “didn’t mean to startle you. Just out enjoying the view. Nice night for a walk, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it is,” Yoongi answers, his words clipped. “Enjoy your walk.” He silently urges you towards the way home and you begin taking a few steps in that direction, afraid of turning your back on the guy. 

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where QualiTea Treats & Trees is, would you? I’m supposed to meet my friend near there later,” he suddenly asks, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Your mouth nearly opens to automatically answer, but you stop yourself short, afraid of giving this stranger the location of Jin and Hobi’s tearoom. 

“It’s in the town square, you can’t miss it. So why don’t you and your friend go run along,” Yoongi suggests, turning to face the patch of trees to the left. 

When you follow his gaze, you think you catch a silhouette hidden amongst the shadows, but it’s hard to tell exactly where. A shiver wracks your spine. The guy also looks in the same direction before sighing and jerking his head to side. From the woods, out walks another guy with striking blue hair that’s partially tied in the back. Dots of freckles form along his cheeks, and with the colorful hair, it gives him an air of etherealness. Even you can’t help but become enchanted. He goes to stand by his friend, both relaxed while you and Yoongi are anything but. 

Your eyes meet blue hair’s and you watch as they faintly begin glowing red, muting whatever thoughts you once had. “Don’t look into their eyes,” you vaguely register Yoongi mutter beside you and you immediately look away, keeping your focus on the ground. You think you hear blue hair guy let out an exasperated sigh. 

Multiple growls accompanied by short, rapid barks sound off somewhere nearby in the woods. They’re slowly coming closer. 

“Someone should get those wolves on a leash, they sure are noisy tonight,” the first guy comments while blue hair snorts, barely hiding his smile.

“Take it up with the locals,” Yoongi says. 

“Why? Surely someone with your credentials can easily take care of it.” 

Beside you Yoongi tenses, but doesn’t say anything, instead glaring hard at the mystery men. While you’re beyond confused by what he means, you try diffusing the situation before things escalate here too. “Look we don’t want any trouble,” you start, grabbing a hold of Yoongi’s arm, tugging it lightly. His hard gaze doesn’t break from the guy’s, but he allows himself to be pulled back. 

The first guy clears his throat. “I know, we don’t either. So if your friend could come with us, we can get this all sorted out.” 

“We’re not going with you.”

“Oh, no she doesn’t. You do though. I mean we don’t want to cause a scene, right?” 

“I’m not leaving her alone.”

The guy motions to blue hair next to him. “Felix can make sure she gets to where she needs to be. Won’t you feel better knowing she’ll be away from all the commotion?”

Yoongi flexes his fingers, taking a breath to steady himself. “As if I’d take your word for it. Just let us go and we’ll forget this ever happened.” 

“Sorry, but we can’t let you do that, man.” 

“I wasn’t asking.” 

Felix whispers something to the other guy who thinks for a second before nodding. “So how’d you earn her trust? Did you just become friends by chance or you two know each other through school or work?” He asks.

“That’s none of your business.” 

“How’d she take the news?” The guy smiles. “Or having you been sharing trademark secrets?”

“Neither. She’s smart.” 

Such a strange line of questioning, one where you’re seemingly the only one completely lost in the conversation. “What does he mean?” You quietly ask yet the other two can somehow hear. 

The guy with dark hair raises a brow in surprise. “Oh, she doesn’t know. Are you ashamed or afraid she’ll run away screaming?”

“It doesn’t matter. I haven’t broken any rules,” Yoongi calmly responds though a slight tremor begins coursing through his body every few seconds. 

“Maybe or maybe not. Either way, you or one of your friends certainly have.”

“We haven’t done anything wrong,” you insist, despite not knowing everything. It doesn’t matter so long as you two can get away from whoever these people are.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what he wants you to think. Don’t you wonder why he’s always in or around the woods all the time?” He catches the surprise register across your face, his mouth turning up in a small smile. “So you have. Has he been agitated or more stressed by any chance lately?”

“That’s enough,” Yoongi quietly orders. 

“I agree. Now if you’ll just come with us, we’ll make sure she gets home safe. Clearly, she’ll be better protected with us than you.” 

Yoongi leans closer to you so he can whisper in your ear. “Run,” he urges, “I’ll make sure they don’t follow after you.” 

Before you can answer, he strides towards them and it’s as if they’re expecting it because the first guy suddenly throws a punch which is blocked by Yoongi. The two begin fighting and dodging each other’s moves, almost like a dance in which neither is led by unfiltered anger. Instead, they’re poised, focused on feinting away before either can land a hit. And then their speed increases, moving faster and faster until your eyes can barely keep up. 

Felix, who’s been watching like you up to this point, then springs into action and immediately lands a harsh kick on Yoongi that causes him to stumble though he doesn’t fall. His movements are graceful yet dangerous as he joins in, more hits and kicks successfully knocking into Yoongi. 

And you’re just standing there. Using your pepper spray won’t work in this case, not when you could potentially hurt Yoongi. Even if you tried getting in the middle, you’ll end up getting hit or miss your target because all three of them are moving so fast that they’re almost beginning to blur. 

From the forest, a loud hiss sounds from the undergrowth that draws your attention away. The air around you seems to pick up, forcing the thinner trees to bend in submission as another strange, unearthly, noise comes from close by. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur, knowing your voice is lost to the wind as he continues fighting with the other men. The rustling in the trees grows louder, shuddering the branches as something makes its way closer in this direction, moving fast. Inhumanely fast. “Yoongi.” The hair all across your body is standing upright as dread fills you, natural instincts sensing an impending doom. 

There’s a flash of white before something launches itself at you and you barely have time to react as you duck aside. Only you’re not quick enough as the thing hits you hard, knocking you to the rough ground. “Yoongi!” You scream, looking up in terror at the humanoid figure with sharp fangs and bottomless black eyes. It’s completely bare and hairless with patches of silver scales forming all across its skin. The figure screeches and you flinch, raising your arm to protect your face when there’s a stinging gash cutting into your flesh. 

Even though it doesn’t cut deep, it still burns like hell and you cry out, both in pain and absolute horror when the creature leans in for a bite, saliva dripping from its mouth. Managing a solid punch, you turn and see that Yoongi and the other men have stopped fighting, shock etched across their faces. 

But what catches you off guard is the glowing crimson that’s coming from Yoongi’s eyes. Fury engulfs whatever surprise is left and in the next instant he roars, his body contorting before there’s suddenly a brown wolf standing on hind legs, one you’ve become rather familiar with recently. 

“Wolfy,” you breathe, the nickname lost in the sound of chaos. 

The werewolf launches himself at you, tackling the creature with ease and the uplifted weight leaves you feeling exposed, vulnerable. Scrambling backwards, you kick at the ground, your legs feeling like lead but you keep going until you find yourself backed into the trunk of another tree once more. Yet there’s not much to see, only blurs of brown and white can be distinguished as bodies wrestle with each other. 

Deep growls and shrilling shrieks fill the air, blood spraying every so often. The two strange guys watch, with Felix stepping closer, seemingly looking for an opportunity to jump into the fight. That is, until another figure suddenly appears beside them. As he tells them something, more and more guys keep appearing, showing up in an instant. 

Your head feels like it’s about to overload just as yet another figure materializes next to the others and then they move in a blur before instantly kneeling beside you. Chan, the guy from the library, carefully grips your face within his chilled hands and forces you to meet his scarlet eyes. “I’m sorry. Sleep,” he commands, the word instantly forcing darkness to consume you as you fall in an unconscious heap. 

— — —

<— Previous | | Next —>

You jump and turn towards the voice, ready to chunk the bucket in a poor attempt of self-defense only to find the prince standing by the wooden stable doors. He wears a silver cloak with the hood down and you catch a glimpse of his sword at his hip. “V,” you loudly say his name. “Here to visit the horses?”

He smiles as he approaches. “Actually I’m here to take Zelda out for some fresh air.”

“Oh. Is it safe for you to go out after what happened?” You quietly ask, not wanting to actually speak the words “attempted assassination”. From behind Zelda has snuck closer to you before giving you a strong nudge, her head pushing against your back and you’re flung forward as you stumble while V rushes to catch you. You latch onto his biceps to balance yourself while his hands steady you by holding onto your waist.

Your eyes meet as you stare at one another, lost in a myriad of thoughts without saying a word.  He breaks the spell first as he merely shrugs, breaking out into a mischievous smirk. “Technically no, but this cloak prevents me from being recognized or identified. And no one knows I’m going out except for you. Also, did I not give strict orders for you to not do any difficult tasks?” He asks, raising a brow at you.

“Feeding the horses doesn’t require a lot of exertion. Besides, Lhaine has made sure I barely do anything at all even though I’m feeling much better,” you reassure. With Kala’s exercises and plenty of forced rest, your shoulder doesn’t constantly ache or throb as much anymore.

“Good, now let’s not push yourself too hard, yes?”

Knowing both him and Lhaine only mean well for you, you can’t quite keep from rolling your eyes in return. “Of course, Your Highness,” you answer. There’s a brief pause and you suddenly remember that you’re still in his embrace. “I hope you enjoy your outing.”

“Thank you, little dove.” His smile widens, genuine happiness seeping into the playful expression. When you go to step back, his arms slowly slide away until they fall to his sides, his smile faltering briefly but doesn’t disappear. He eyes you for another moment, hidden emotions you can’t quite identify flickering from within before he turns his attention to Zelda as he gets her saddle ready. “Behave,” V tells you from atop her back as they pass by while she walks towards the stable entrance.

“Yes, sir,” you joke, bending to do a small curtsy for him in return which causes him to let out a chuckle.

He pulls the hood up until it covers his head before urging Zelda into a trot as they disappear from sight.

                                                               ~*~

The next morning as you head towards the kitchen for breakfast, you’re surprised to find energy buzzing throughout the castle. The other servants move quickly through the halls, rushing to their tasks as they whisper to each other. Even as you pass the guards stationed at their posts, you hear them mutter to one another and you catch a few words here and there about some politician.

Inside the kitchen, you don’t see Chef anywhere but there’s pots and pans cooking on the stove. Instead you find the Faegel huddled together eating their breakfast while they speak quietly amongst themselves. “And he was here for lunch not too long ago. My friend who lives in that realm wonders if it’s a possible coup,” Rae tells them, her eyes wide.

Mel rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Imbecile. If it were a coup, said leaders would’ve clearly taken credit for his death. No one has claimed any whatsoever. This is something else.”

“Whatever it is, it’s put the rest of the Senate on edge,” Bren responds.

“Do you think it’s another assassination like the one—ow!” As Rae speaks she’s cut off by Mel harshly pinching her arm as she jerks her head toward you.

All three immediately grow quiet, cleaning up their food before going to leave the room. “Too bad you weren’t there human,” Mel says as they pass by, “maybe you could’ve rescued him as well,” she notes with an acidic smirk. Neither Bren nor Rae say a word, instead quietly exiting as they walk beside Mel.

With a shake of your head, you fetch your own breakfast and begin eating as Lhaine comes in to join you. “So is it true a senator is dead?” You ask while she rifles for a few slices of bread.

Taking a bite, she sits down on the stool beside you. “Damn, you already heard too?” She asks around the food in her mouth as she chews. “Then it must true. I thought it was just a rumor or people exaggerating.”

“Apparently not. And nobody seems to know who could’ve done it.”

“Yeah, because it shouldn’t be possible,” she snorts.

Her statement confuses you as your brows draw together. “What do you mean? Wait,” you pause, “he had already ascended, hadn’t he?”

She nods. “Mmhmm. Which means someone has done the impossible,” she confirms.

Her words click in your head as you understand the true severity of the situation. “So, surely they’ll look into who did this and find them before they kill someone else.” Surely it can’t be a coincidence that someone tried to murder the prince right before a senator who was essentially immortal is now dead. Unless this is merely the common joys of demonic politics in Hell, rules be damned.

Lhaine shrugs as she drinks her water. “Hopefully. We don’t exactly have law enforcement down here. Murder is pretty much fair game, but if an ascended truly is dead then the playing field’s gotten a bit more leveled. No doubt the rest of the senators are losing their shit right now.” She snorts into her cup. “Wouldn’t mind seeing that,” you hear her mutter.

A thought occurs to you. “Isn’t RM also a part of the senate?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but he’s exceptionally intelligent and more than capable of holding his own. Even if he wasn’t, he’s got Jeon who can easily annihilate enemies no problem.”

Chef returns at that moment and points to you. “Take the tea to Mr. Min and the other guests. They’re up in the library,” she orders, removing a kettle from the stove while she opens a cabinet which has a tea set inside. “Use this.”

You gently take out the porcelain tea set, pouring the crimson tea from the kettle and into the tea pot. The pretty set is white and decorated with little purple flowers that are painted on the outside. “I got it,” you quickly reassure Lhaine who eyes you dubiously. “Most of the weight is on my good arm.” While it’s both awkward and terrifying having to balance such delicate items using mostly one arm, you use the other to hold it in place, ensuring it won’t abruptly tip over.

“See you,” Lhaine calls after you, obvious skepticism and disapproval evident in her face as she watches you leave.

Carrying the tea set, you’re careful to keep the tray steady with your one arm while you open the door to the library. As you enter you find most of V’s friends inside. While Jay and Suga occupy one of the couches, Jin sits in one of the chairs by the table, an ornate mirror held in his hand. He admires his reflection, fixing a strand of black hair while the duo murmur softly to each other. Off to the side at another chair sits Min, seemingly staring off into space, either concentrating on his visions or listening into their conversation.

Min turns his head, facing your direction as you approach. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N,” he says as you set the porcelain tray down.

“You’re welcome,” you reply, setting each cup onto a saucer before reaching for the teapot as you slowly pour the steaming liquid. Jay, Suga, and Min each take their own while Jin leaves his, attention still focused on inspecting his face.

Arranging the remaining cups, you hesitate, wondering if you should prepare the tea for the others but Min addresses your unspoken question. “You can leave the rest and we’ll pour it once they arrive. That way it’ll be fresh,” he answers with a smile.

“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, we’re fine at the moment. How’s your shoulder?” He inquires.

“Better, thank you,” you tell him. There’s still soreness in your muscles when you move a certain way but otherwise it’s slowly improving.

“This is a tragedy,” Jin suddenly moans, everyone’s attention turning towards his abrupt exclamation.

“I wouldn’t call it a tragedy. Unfortunate, sure, but Cellhád was always trying to pass distasteful rules that would upset the balance,” Suga says.

Jin rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about him,” he scoffs with a shake of his head. “I’m talking about the fact that I have a scar.” He points to his upper cheekbone where you can just barely see a crack in his skin, as though it’s about to break off.

Min’s forehead creases at that. “Strange. You’ve just recently shattered so you shouldn’t be losing pieces so soon.”

“Were you playing a little too rough on Hallow’s Evening, old man?” Suga chuckles, earning a glare from Jin in return.

“Tch, ridiculous,” is all he mutters.

“Maybe it’s because you’re still missing a piece of yourself,” Jay wonders, indicating to the fourth finger still absent from his hand. “It’s not like you to lose yourself, literally.”

“No, it’s not that. I’ve went a couple of weeks without a finger before I eventually found it. I just hope it’s nothing to do with my curse progressing or growing stronger,” Jin sighs, fingertips grazing along his skin just below the crack.

“Could there be a medicine or potion that can fix it?” You find yourself asking, drawing their attention to you and you flinch in return. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Min is the one that answers you. “No need to apologize, it’s an honest question. I’m sure you’re thinking of the healing salve that can fix minor cuts and scratches, yes?”

“Yeah, I think so. Miss had given me some the day I came here,” you say, remembering when you hit your head on Loom’s cart all those weeks ago in the Crooked Forest. It feels like a lifetime ago.

“Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do Jin any good because he’s not technically injured. It’s just a part of his curse so he can’t be healed,” Min explains.

“That’s an interesting thought though if we could just glue him back together,” Jay muses, thumb rubbing along his chin. He’s met with a scowl from Jin who seethes in his seat. “Sorry, sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, raising his hands in surrender. “I was just joking, honest.”

“You know this might be a sign that you’ll have to be proactive again in trying to break your curse, right?” Suga pipes in from beside Jay, his gaze fixated on the white butterfly with orange tipped wings that’s perched on the back of his hand.

The anger dissipates from Jin leaving only resignation in its wake as he sighs. “Yes, I was afraid of that.” He shakes his head as though ridding himself of his internal thoughts. “I’ll manage in the meantime. Besides we have more pressing matters at the moment.”

You take that as your queue to leave, realizing all too late that you’ve just been standing there listening in on their conversation. Bowing, you silently excuse yourself and make your way to the library entrance, hearing the discussion shift to the dead senator.

Only the topic switches briefly as Jay asks, “Is that why V’s been studying portals and whatnot?” His voice low, but enough for you to still hear even as you approach the door.

“Will you hush?” Min responds with a quiet snort.

It’s not hard to assume that they’re referring to you. Is that why V has been visiting the library more often?

“Hello, Ms. Y/N,” you hear and turn to find RM standing behind you at the entrance. Jeon stands just behind him, holding the door open for him. “It’s good to see you.”

“Nice to see you both too, sir,” you answer in return.

“How’s recovery been?”

“Going well, thank you. Kala has recommended some great exercises that are really helpful,” you say.

He nods with a smile, revealing two dimples on either cheek and a pair of fangs that peek out. “Yes, she’s a wonderful lady,” he agrees. “Very adept in her studies and work. Please give my regards next time you see her.” Stepping around you, he makes his way to the others with Jeon right at his heels and you softly call the younger boy’s name.

The vampire immediately freezes, gaze fixated straight ahead before he turns his head, crimson eyes meeting your own. He doesn’t say a word, merely staring at you in return.

“I just wanted to say thank you for the drawings. They’ve been really helpful,” you tell him.

Jeon gives a tentative nod, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “You’re welcome,” he quietly murmurs, voice low but also soft, much to your surprise. “Glad you’re feeling better.” And then he quickly walks away, following after RM who’s already seated in one of the lounge chairs, taking his position standing at the bookshelf just behind the group.

                                                               ~*~

Rough stone grazes against your skin as you slowly wake. Taking in your surroundings, you stare out into the pitch black space, and left to feel along the ground until you can stand upright. You hold your palm against the nearest wall of what feels like a cave, using it as a guide to lead you toward what you’re hoping is an exit. As you peer out into the darkness, you catch a glimpse of a faint blue light. It glows in the distance, so you focus on that while continuing to feel along the coarse granite with your hand.

Once you’re close enough, you find the light to be the glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The cobalt flame flickers within the glass that houses it and when peering further ahead, there’s another one down the corridor. You continue towards the next one, losing your sight in the darkness of the cave in between each lantern. As you approach, there’s movement from the shadows and the sound of scrabbling echoes, causing you to flinch.

Moving slowly, you make out the outline of a figure that’s huddled just beyond the reach of the fire’s light. You swallow, voice unable to emerge from your throat besides a thin, whispery, “Hello?” Your muscles tense in preparation, body ready for flight or fight depending on how the person reacts.

But they don’t suddenly attack or scream, or even flinch in response either. Instead, they lift their head before turning to face in your direction. Familiar eyes, glazed with exhaustion, peek out from beneath their hair.

“Faith?”

The quiet call of her name causes your sister to squint as she stares up at you. Recognition is slow to seep in before she answers with your name, the word slow and unsure.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you confirm, resisting the urge to drop down on your knees beside her and hug her tightly. You haven’t seen or spoke to her since the night you nearly died, and while she seemed more coherent then, you’re not sure about the current state she’s in now. It could all be a ploy for her to get you close so she can attack you like all the other times.

Her facial expression lingers between confusion and realization. “You’re alive?”

“I am.”

“You’re alive,” she repeats, before understanding finally dawns. “You’re alive!” She pushes herself to her feet, standing upright so she can look at you directly. “Are you okay?” Her hands grasp your face, bony fingers pressing against your skin and you involuntarily flinch, expecting sharp nails to suddenly pierce through flesh.

“I’m fine,” you tell her while she inspects your face.

“Strange, I didn’t even recognize you. You look different,” she notes, gently pushing you backwards until you’re both standing beneath the glow of the lantern. With the light shining down, it illuminates your figures, including the prominent black in your veins that matches her own. “That’s right, they poisoned you too.”

Now you’re confused as you give her a quizzical look. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

She stares deep into your eyes, seeming to be searching for something. “The darkness inside you. It’s slowly draining you, feasting on your soul, and you won’t be able to fight it off for long.”

Darkness is feasting on your soul? Since when? How coherent is your sister actually? Rather than outright question her and risk possibly angering her, you opt to simply go along with it. “Yeah, you said that once right before trying to kill me,” you note.

A wave of concern sweeps across her features and she pauses, biting at her lip. “I did? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Things have been fuzzy lately.” She lets out an unsteady breath, her hands shaking against you.

Carefully, you reach up and grab onto her shoulders, internally shuddering at the feel of bone jutting through her skin. “It’s okay, you’re not yourself right now. But everything’ll be fine soon. I’m going to find you a cure so you won’t be sick anymore,” you’re quick to reassure her while she anxiously glances around the space before refocusing on you.

“Wait, how are you going to do that? You can’t help both me and yourself.”

“Why not?”

Your sister winces before shaking her head. “Because they won’t let you. Once they’ve latched on, they won’t let go, not that easily. If you can get rid of the poison from yourself first, then you’ll be able to help me. But I’m glad my memory was useful,” she notes, a relieved smile forming on her lips.

“What memory?”

She blinks. “The one where we played hide and seek outside, silly,” she chuckles.

It takes you a minute as you wrack your brain before remembering the dream of you both playing in the forest as kids until the nightmare transformed it into a terrifying, haunted place. “That was you showing me that? But why? We were just playing around to pass the time.”

“Because that’s where it all began. Don’t you remember what happened in the woods?” She stares at you, worry filling her eyes. “Wait, where are you going?”

You blink and suddenly find yourself further away from her, all the way at another lantern. Glancing around you see you’re at a crossroads with multiple pathways. Each one has a blue lantern except for the one to your left. Instead it’s actually a soft purple.

“I don’t know how but I think I found a way out,” you tell her just as she catches up. You point to the light which causes her brows to furrow together. “Have you seen this before?”

“No, I haven’t. Weird.”

Taking her hand you begin heading down the tunnel, straight towards the odd flame. As you approach, you look further down the dark tunnel for the next lantern. There’s yet another one where the fire is glowing even brighter. You make your way towards it and see it’s now become a burning red.

“Ever seen a red lantern before?” You ask, staring up at it.

“What are you talking about?” She asks, looking at the lantern as well. “That’s blue.”

“Pretty sure I know my colors, sis,” you jokingly remark, voice light as you try to quell the uneasiness. “Okay, what about that one?” You point to the next one further down which is red as well.

“That’s blue too.”

“Why am I seeing red then?” You wonder, continuing towards the flame.

“I don’t know, but maybe we should head back—seriously?” You hear her sigh from behind as you continue heading for the strange lantern. “We don’t even know where we are.”

As you stand below the hanging light, you feel the texture of the floor change and you glance down to feel smooth purple carpet beneath your feet. Looking back up, you stare off into the distance, searching for the next light. Except it’s not a lantern nor is it attached to the ceiling but rather to the sides of the wall. And there’s multiple lamps all in a row emitting a familiar soft red glow.

Since when did the castle have a passageway leading to a dark cave, specifically in the northeast wing?

“We’re back in the castle,” you breathe, glancing around the space behind the thrones.

“What are you talking about? This isn’t a castle,” your sister says. You turn and see her giving you a concerned look.

“I know this place, it’s where I’ve been staying. Come on, I can take you back to my room,” you insist, but she stops you with a shake of her head.

“Y/N, seriously, a castle with red lights? It may be an improvement from this gloomy cave but there’s nothing here,” she answers.

She means it too, her eyes gazing at you with sympathy and it makes your stomach twist into knots. “You can’t see any of it? Not the trio of thrones or winding staircases on either side of us. Not even the red lights. Nothing?” The last word is a helpless plea, urging her the ability to see what you mean. Instead, she tells you something but no sound comes out. “What?”

“Y/N,” you hear the word slowly register within the quiet space as she gingerly grasps onto your wrist. “Are you alright, Ms. Y/N?”

The formal address of your name has you suddenly drawing a sharp breath, dizziness causing your head to spin as you rapidly blink in the dimly lit area. When you look towards your sister, she’s gone. Instead you find Hiss floating in the place where she once stood. Looking down, you see the black tendrils of her hair looped around your arm.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” you mumble, mind still hazy as you shake off the remnants of sleep.

Hiss hovers before you, red eyes staring with an intensity that sends a shiver up your neck. “Where were you headed?” She asks, voice bright and airy, yet there’s a hint of an accusatory tone underneath the cheerfulness.

“I don’t actually know.” You keep searching the area for a glimpse of your sister or even a glowing blue lantern. But there’s none of that, just the stairwell and the rest of the rooms.

“Do you always go wandering the castle this late at night?”

“No, not really. I have trouble sleeping sometimes,” you say, shifting uncomfortably when you feel the tendrils of her hair just barely tighten their hold on your wrist.

Hiss nods in understanding, the dark strands tethered to you moving along with her. “Hmm. I haven’t seen you up until now. Where do usually go?”

“Normally I just go to the kitchen for a drink and then back to bed,” you helplessly shrug, body stiffening as the seconds pass.

“And you don’t go anywhere else?”

You wordlessly shake your head in response.

She keeps staring back at you and the fact that she has no pupils, just full red eyes, builds tension that seems to fill the space. “You know things were normal around here, boring almost, until you suddenly showed up. Why is that?” Though she’s expecting an honest answer, there’s that accusatory undertone, one that’s laced with bitterness.

“You’re not the first to say something along those lines,” you answer humorlessly, remembering how Kala had mentioned something similar after you had been shot. Except she wasn’t distrustful of you nor had she blamed you for these series of strange and unfortunate events.

“Maybe your presence disrupted the balance. Certainly the natural order of things,” she notes harshly.

Her brewing anger has you wincing, shrinking beneath her searing gaze. “I’m sorry about Thia.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“Yeah, me too.” Even if she’s resentful, her words are filled with a resigned defeat as though she’s aged greatly and is left permanently exhausted.

“Hiss? What’re you doing?” Another voice asks as Cara floats forward as she comes around from the front of the thrones. “Oh, Y/N, I didn’t see you there,” she says upon taking notice of you. “Couldn’t sleep again?”

“Again? She does this often?” Hiss questions, her eyes boring incredulously at her sister who nods in confirmation.

“Yes, sometimes we sit and talk in the kitchen.”

“And you didn’t think this was crucial information to share with the King during that damned interrogation?” Hiss’s voice rising as her grip tightens even more around your wrist, causing you to grimace when your bones squeeze from the pressure.

“No, because she’s not the assassin and her nightly walks have nothing to do with what happened. Now let her go, Hiss. You’re hurting her,” she calmly suggests though Cara’s ruby eyes harden in contrast.

“So what? A little discomfort is nothing compared to what Thia felt that day,” Hiss spits.

Even if it’s not intended, her words do the expected damage as Cara visibly flinches, her face tormented by the painful reminder of the fresh wounds that have only just begun healing. “Hiss, that was cruel and completely uncalled for!” Cara shouts in return, aghast at her strong words and attitude.

“What is the meaning of this commotion?” Bell harshly whispers, her head appearing from the second floor as she descends down to where you all are. “Everyone is asleep and you’re having a spat in the middle of the main hall?”

Hiss is the first to respond. “I found her wandering the halls,” she states, tilting her head in your direction.

Bell hardly glances your way. “Yes, she works and lives here. Unless she was going somewhere off limits what does it matter? Otherwise, what of it?”

“Is this just common knowledge I just wasn’t aware of? Thia literally described a strange person the night of Hallow’s Evening and neither of you thought to mention it during the interrogation that she constantly wanders the halls quite often?”

“Because it had nothing to do with what happened during the ball,” Bell similarly repeats Cara’s earlier words. “And did you fail to recall that she was shot by the said assassin?”

“Which could’ve been part of the plan for all we know. She could be in league with them.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Cara suddenly interjects. “She wouldn’t do that. Besides she’s my friend so quit accusing her such things.”

“As if that matters! Just because she’s nice and all friendly to you doesn’t automatically make her trustworthy,” her sister retorts. “Did you know she also apparently sleepwalks?”

Cara pauses for a moment before she responds with, “She has recurring nightmares, you disembodied dimwit, so no, I’m not surprised.”

“Enough.” While not overly loud, Bell’s assertion is domineering enough to halt the strew of arguments being unleashed. “This bickering is nothing but childish and pointless.” She addresses Hiss first. “Nothing could’ve been done to save Thia that day. You know this even if you won’t accept it. Her fate was sealed the moment the King reached his decision.” She regards her sister’s hair which is still coiled tightly around your wrist to the point you’ve lost feeling in your fingers before she uses her own hair to free you from the strands.

“Cara, take Y/N back to her room,” Bell says to her though her gaze remains on Hiss until she turns to you. “And if you could please remain in your room for the rest of the night until morning call it would be much appreciated.”

“Of course. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused,” you answer, feeling guilty of being the cause of the tension between the sisters.

“No need to apologize, Y/N. Have a good rest of the night.”

When you stop at your door, you rest your hand on the handle but don’t open it. “Are you really not surprised by my sleepwalking?” You ask Cara who floats beside you. “I don’t remember doing it ever in my life until now.”

She gently smiles at you, warmth burning within the crimson of her eyes. “Your nightmares have slowly but surely become worse, so I assume that that’s the reason. Even if it somehow isn’t, I don’t believe you’re deceitful or involved in any malicious things.” A weight of sadness causes her smile to slightly wane. “Hiss is just taking Thia’s death especially hard. We’re all close, but those two were inseparable just like Bell and I are. She’ll be okay, so don’t worry,” she reassures you.

All you can do is nod, hoping that she’s right. “Thank you, Cara. You’re a good friend.”

Her smile lifts, revealing teeth as she beams. “I’m glad to hear it, that really means a lot.”

You both wave before you head inside, immediately heading to sit down on your bed. For a few minutes you simply stare down at the carpet beneath your feet, trying to remember the dream you were having while sleepwalking. Something pertaining to your sister but the details are foggy and incoherent.

Huffing in frustration, you’re about to lay down only to stop short upon noticing the pile of dust beside your nightstand. Bending down, you pick up the small navy pouch that’s next to it, recognizing it as the sleeping powder the Queen gave to you. You must’ve somehow knocked it over while you were sleepwalking you think as you dump the thin granules into the bin. As you lie down and burrow beneath the covers, you internally sigh in relief when sleep returns without issue.

When you wake up later on, you feel a twinge in your lower abdomen as you get out of bed. You soon find out the cause of discomfort once you use the restroom and see blood on the toilet paper. Oh joy. You feel a bit miffed that Mother Nature can visit you even down in Hell. Apparently your body has become acclimated enough to the environment, despite the constant stress.

Maybe this is why you suddenly sleepwalked and thought you were with your sister. The shift inside you could be causing strange dreams. One could only hope the answer is as simple as that. After putting some folded toilet paper into your underwear, you finish getting ready before heading downstairs.

                                                               ~*~

In the kitchen, you’re peacefully finishing the rest of your lunch with only Chef for company since Lhaine left to go finish her tasks. That is, until Bren enters the room along with Mel, the latter giving you a disgusted look while the former doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. Not that you’re complaining. As they pass by, you notice Bren has a black ribbon wrapped around her neck, entwined into a little bow at the back, just below her tied up hair. You’re not sure about the color but perhaps because it’s worn higher up it represents a greater status compared to the purple one given to you by the prince for your wrist. Unless this is more of a fashion choice instead.

Both girls head to the counter to eat lunch with Bren gathering food onto a plate while Mel preps the drinks. The latter catches you staring at them and sneers in return. “Can we help you?” She snaps.

You shrug, returning to your own food. “Nothing. Just noticed the new fashion accessory,” you softly compliment. “It’s pretty.”

Mel snorts under her breath, immediately pursing her lips as she focuses on pouring the water. Bren, on the other hand, delivers you with a scalding expression that would probably melt you faster than lava if she possessed that capability. “Oh, you mean this ribbon that signals my disgraced status? Why, how sweet of you to say. You’re probably so satisfied beneath that disgusting saccharine façade,” she spits, cheeks burning red as her eyes tear over.  

Shit, definitely screwed that up. As if she doesn’t already hate your guts. “No, that’s not what I meant. I thought it was by choice, I’m sorry,” you apologize, stumbling over the words, honestly not meaning to offend her or stir the pot. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

“Whatever,” Bren sighs, setting their plates on the table before taking her glass from Mel. She takes a sip, immediately frowning at the taste. “How can plain water be so bland and yet so gross?” She mumbles mostly to herself.

Mel shrugs in response. “I know. The wine back home was so much nicer. Ah, maybe one day we’ll get to have a bottle just for ourselves like we used to,” she sighs, reminiscing on past memories.

Her comment elicits another grimace from Bren who doesn’t say anything, instead pointedly keeping her gaze on her unsalted meat and bread. You take the opportunity to gather your plate, finishing off your own glass of water before quickly rinsing them in the sink. Once you’re done, you leave the kitchen so you can get back to your own tasks.

                                                               ~*~

After retrieving, the sheets from the laundry room, you drag the fraying wicker basket behind you, using the hook of the clothes hanger to tug it along. While washing and changing the prince’s bedsheets isn’t too strenuous, you’re not allowed to pick up heavy things as it’ll strain your shoulder and the basket isn’t exactly designed for resting against your hips so you’ve had to improvise in that regard.

Only when you get to the main hall and approach the stairs, you have to crouch down and pull the basket handle up step by step using your own hand so as to prevent the clean sheets from accidentally spilling out. You’re about halfway there when another hand appears and grabs a hold of the other handle. As you glance up, you’re taken by surprise that you can only blankly stare.

“Hurry up, will you? Before you throw out my back,” Rae complains, scowling at your dumbfounded state.

You move then, lifting up the handle with your good arm while she does the same and follows you up the rest of the steps. Instead of leaving you at the top of the staircase she continues walking behind you all the way into the prince’s bedroom which is vacant.  

The two of you set the basket on the ottoman and she already begins unloading the sheets, splaying them against the bare bed. “Thanks,” you say, unsure of how to process this situation.

“Don’t mention it,” she responds, and you take her words at face value.

While you walk to the other side of the bed, your eyes wander to V’s desk and all the books splayed across it. Though you deliberately avoid reading the open pages lest your eyes begin bleeding you happen to catch a glimpse of one book with the title Portaling. So he really has been researching possible ways to escape. The fact that he’s taking this extra time to help you, even though he clearly said he would, still warms your heart. It gives you a sense of relief that there’s someone who has more knowledge and resources, not to mention better luck than you in finding out how to escape from Hell.

Fabric hits the back of your head and you grab the pillowcase before it falls. “Quit snooping through the prince’s room and tuck the sheets in properly,” Rae snaps, her face pinched as she roughly begins working on her side.

Moving quicker, you do the same as you both work in silence, finishing the bed and then sliding the silken pillowcases onto the pillows. “While I appreciate you helping me carry the basket, why bother in the first place? I don’t get the impression I’m liked by you.”

She scoffs. “I don’t hate you if that’s what you’re implying.” Her hands deftly fold the excess pillowcases and blankets, stacking them into small piles.

“You and your friends aren’t exactly fond of me either,” you note, also folding the rest of the laundry.

“They’re not my friends,” she snaps before realizing what she said. “I mean, we’re cousins,” she amends.

You’re taken by surprised though you then remember that they’re all the same type of creature. “Either way, you’ve all hated me from the moment I got here. So I’m sorry if I’m a little apprehensive.”

Rae pauses her folding, blowing out a breath of exasperation as she looks away, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not doing this in an attempt to fulfill Bren’s debt to you, just as a favor for you since you saved her life.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” you awkwardly say. “I was just trying to help.”

“Right. And I meant it when I said don’t mention it. I doubt the prince would want me in here at all even if it’s for a task.”

“Why? I mean, isn’t this a part of our job?” You reason with her.

She hesitates, before answering, “Well, yes, but you have seniority over me. So you should be the one to take care of it first. Besides I’m sure he’d prefer asking you anyway,” she mutters that last part to herself.

“What do you mean? I haven’t been here that long at all.”

“Yeah, but remember what His Highness said after our little ‘tussle’? He demoted Bren and gave you her position as personal servant. So unless he wants something from me specifically, he’ll most likely ask you instead.”

“Is that why she hates me? Because she sees me as a threat?” Bren’s mentioned before how he’ll be hers soon. But with you getting closer to him recently, she probably assumes you’re taking over her territory.

Rae is about to answer yes, but stops short. “They’re close. Well, they had been until you came along,” she mumbles yet again.

All this animosity because they think you’re trying to sabotage a supposed romantic relationship? This is so stupid. You sigh before answering. “I don’t care about whatever connection they have or who’s interested in who, okay? I got kidnapped by demons and now just want out. That’s it. So can all of you just leave me out of this?”

She stares at you for a moment, a look of shock stuck in place until she shakes her head. “Well, Bren doesn’t exactly have a choice. She owes you for saving her from being executed.” As soon as she says it, she scrunches her nose and lets out a noise of frustration as she curses beneath her breath. “I mean, that’s traditionally how it goes, but that’s between you and her. I don’t care for you one way or another, so you stay out of my way and I’ll do the same.”

“Fine by me,” you agree, picking up the now empty basket as you get ready to leave.

“But I will say that you helping Bren be spared is, appreciated.” Rae is keeping her gaze fixated onto the ground and then she turns before quickly leaving the room.

You’re left awkwardly standing and staring at the spot she was just occupying. “You’re welcome,” you softly respond in the quiet space.

                                                               ~*~

Later on, you make a stop at the bathroom near the servants’ quarters, intent on relieving yourself and changing out your “pad.” Seriously, someone needs to start stealing from above ground or inventing proper hygiene products because this is just ridiculously primeval. As you go inside, you head for an open stall only to nearly crash into the restroom door when there’s a loud bang from inside one of the closed stalls.

“Are you kidding me?” A voice shouts, the sound followed by rustling from behind just before a toilet flushes. The stall door flies open, slamming against the wall as Bren emerges, her face red and clearly upset by something. She stops short when she sees you awkwardly standing at the entrance, ready to turn around and bolt. Her lips pinch together before she eventually mutters, “Period problems.” She walks towards the sink so she can wash her hands.

Nodding quietly, you walk behind her as you head towards one of the stalls. “I get it. Sorry, that might be my hormones setting your body’s off. I don’t know if the synchronization is a good or a bad thing,” you snort.

In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of her reflection as the muscles in her face tighten, nose beginning to protrude. Her hands, which were just about to turn on the water, are gripping onto the handles as she lets out a sharp exhale. “Whatever. It is what it is,” she whispers the last part, and you barely catch it though you don’t respond, going into the stall before locking the door as you do.

                                                               ~*~

Something tickles against your cheek causing your face to twitch. The irritating sensation returns and you reach a hand up to rub at your skin, finding it oddly wet. Opening your eyes, you’re greeted by surrounding darkness, a halo of dim blue light shining down on you. Another droplet hits your forehead and you realize it’s water.

Looking around the space, you hear the pool of water before you see it, the pinging droplets splashing every so often. You crawl towards it, nightgown scraping across the rough dirt and stone until you reach the end before peering down into it. There’s nothing to see except your own reflection. Until, through the depths emerges a face that floats closer. One you can immediately recognize despite the haggard look.

Her eyes meet yours and she parts her lips to which you lean closer.

“Boo,” you hear the word whispered right in your ear. Arms wrap around you as you jump, immediately turning to find your sister beside you.

“Faith,” you gasp, flinching at how cold her body is.

“Sis,” she greets in return with a grin. “Maybe this time don’t go running off, yeah?” While she may be smiling, the grip she has on you is tight and unrelenting.

“Right,” you breathe, an icy chill freezing in the pit of your stomach. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

She pulls you up away from the water and starts guiding you down another path. “Come on, let’s stick together and not chase after strange lights,” she suggests. “Where’d you disappear off to last time? It’s like you completely vanished.”

How do you even begin to explain your current situation in Hell to her? “I woke up. For some reason we’ve been able to see each other but only in our dreams,” you tell her.

It’s silent except for the echoing droplets of water dripping into the miniscule puddles at your feet. Beneath the blue light that hangs above your heads as you pass by, you see confusion cloud your sister’s hazy eyes. She seems lost in distant thoughts before she finally speaks. “Our dreams? That can’t be.”

“But it’s true. That’s the only time I’ve been able to see and talk to you. You’re in the hospital in a coma.”

“Hospital.” She speaks the word slowly as though it’s foreign to her. “I barely remember but I think mom and dad took me. I haven’t been there in a while.”

“What?” Her words cause you to go painstakingly still as if your bones are stiffening in place. “That can’t be. It must be because you’re asleep. How else would we be able to see, I mean, I’d know if. . .” You trail off, the air being squeezed from your lungs, unable to draw it back in.

Faith grimaces, her arm ever so slightly tightening around your shoulders. “I haven’t seen mom or dad, or anyone remotely alive, besides you. Feels like I’ve been lost in these tunnels for ages. I don’t even know if I can leave, let alone get back.”

No, it can’t be. You shake your head. “We just haven’t found the right path. I saw the lights change color last time so surely that’s the key to getting out of here,” you tell her, turning your attention towards the next blue light in the distance.

“Sis,” she calls softly, “there’s nothing besides the blue orbs. Maybe you can somehow see something different but I can’t.”

“Then I’ll guide us by following the different colored lights. They must mean something important,” you insist, already heading off in one direction. Your sister follows close behind though she’s hesitant. As you approach the next blue orb, you see a red one hovering off in the distance. “See? There’s a red one down there. Come on,” you urge her, grabbing her arm as you tug her along.

And then you find yourself sprinting, dashing towards the red lights that float farther away. The grip you have on your sister’s arm loosens and you look back, seeing her all the way behind you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“There’s nothing down that way! It’s just a large precipice,” she yells.

You’re confused until you feel jagged stone touch your palms and you find yourself on your hands and knees, holding onto the protruding edge. Staring down below into the darkness, you barely make out the faint red glow all the way down at the bottom.

“Wait, stop!” You hear her shout from behind.

But it’s like your body has a mind of its own, and you’re just a spectator, as you suddenly lean forward before falling into the dark pit.

You hear your name called from behind but there’s nothing to stop your descent, that is, until something wraps around your waist and yanks you back.

The dark abyss falls back as it’s chased away by a soft glowing light of a chandelier you realize as you hit the ground with a grunt, suddenly finding yourself staring up at the high ceiling. Without looking, you know that you’re on the purple carpet that lines the second floor of the castle.

Not in bed like you’re supposed to be.

“Y/N?”

At the sound of your name, you turn your head and see V lying beside you, worry etched along his features. “Are you alright?” His ebony wings are out, curled up around him, bare chest heaving.

It takes you a second too late to realize you’re openly staring while he waits for your answer. You scramble to push yourself up into a sitting position and he follows suit. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out the apology before the uncomfortable silence can smother you. “I think I was caught in a dream and must’ve been sleepwalking again.”

He stares at you incredulously, seemingly at a loss for words while he rakes a hand through his hair, ruffling the blond locks. “I didn’t know your sleepwalking also meant climbing over the balcony railing and nearly falling to your death.”

“My death?”

“Yes,” he lets out a laugh of disbelief, void of any humor. “I was doing some work in the library when I thought I heard voices and movement so I came out to look then saw you balancing precariously on the railing before pulling you away. Thank goodness I happened upon you when I did.”

Why would you be climbing the railing you wonder as you glance over towards it. You vaguely remember trying to climb something in your dream but nothing’s distinct. Just a shroud of darkness that clouds the small pieces still at the forefront. Something about your sister and shadows. How are you forgetting your dreams all of a sudden?

“I’m glad you found me when you did. Thank you,” you say. “I’ve never sleepwalked before until now.”

He cocks his head slightly, chewing the inside of cheek. “Odd. I hope it’s not due to stress especially since Miss is supposed to be giving you a lighter workload. It’s not because of what happened at the celebration, is it?”

The memory of the bullet piercing your shoulder causes it to faintly twinge and you shudder slightly at the painful reminder. “No, it’s not that. I think my dreams have just been weird lately. Probably just worrying about my sister.” You trail off, thinking about what you could’ve been talking to her about until you suddenly remember her mention being lost in the tunnels. And then you recall the blue lights inside that empty cave with the never ending passageways. How can she possibly be trapped there? What state is she in back home if she thinks she’s stuck in the tunnels?

You know of one way to find out. Risking a glance at V, you see him still studying you, expression unreadable. “I know it’s late and I don’t mean to inconvenience you, but can you take me to your mother’s garden?”

“To see your sister I presume?”

You nod in return. “I’m sorry, I just want to see if she’s okay.”

His eyes soften then, a glimmer of sympathy flickering from within. “Alright.” V gets to his feet and carefully helps you up as well.

Neither of you speak a word as you cut through your room and fly down to the greenhouse rooftop with you held securely in his arms. Crouching down before the crystal clear waters, it unveils another part of your dream as you half expect your sister’s face to appear beside your own. But she doesn’t. Instead, your reflection is accompanied by V’s own, the prince resting against the rock by the pond.

As you hold your anklet above the undisturbed water, your hand trembles and you mentally steel yourself for what you might see. Will she just be an empty shell with hardly any remnants of the sister you once knew? Could she actually be that far gone? If so, then it’ll all be for nothing. You try forcing your hand to shove down and just get it over with, but your arm is locked in place.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, little dove,” V speaks from beside you. “Sometimes it’s easier to not know.” There’s a truth to his sentiment one that’s probably all too familiar for him.

“I know, but if she’s, gone,” you nearly choke on the word, “then is there any point in all this searching?”

“Yes, yourself,” he answers simply. “Even if she’s moved on, we’ll still keep searching for a way to get you home. I’m sure your parents are also missing you dearly.”

“Well, they assume I’m still a part of that internship with Sir. But you’re right.” They’d be devasted at losing not one, but both of their daughters. Staying with your head buried in the sand isn’t an option, at least one that isn’t sustainable in the slightest.

Swallowing, you lower your hand and let the anklet be submerged in the pond. Just like before the water ripples until cracks form along the surface and then shatters, revealing the shimmering glow of crystals. And just like last time, you see the dark hospital room with your dad asleep in the chair nearby. Your sister remains in her bed but nothing has really changed. She still looks the same, except her bones don’t seem to be as noticeable.

“Is it possible she’s getting better on her own?” You wonder aloud, refusing to allow hope to flourish.

“Perhaps. She could be healing on her own or they might’ve found a cure for her,” V says, sitting up slightly to peer into the water. “Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little. I just wish I knew how much time I had. How much time she has,” you sigh, pulling your anklet out which causes the water to stop glittering before returning to its original state. “Thank you for bringing me here.” You slip the accessory back around your ankle, fingers pinching the strings while you remain staring at it.

“Of course, Y/N. It’s the least I can do,” he tells you. His hand reaches out and touches the fabric lightly as you feel him lean closer beside you. “You know, this would actually be a popular accessory here.”

Perplexed, you turn to face him and are startled by how close he actually is to you, your shoulders nearly brushing each other. “Really?”

He nods, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. “Honest. These are the most favored colors to wear here.”

“That sounds about right,” you snort. As if Hell hasn’t always been associated with red and black since probably the beginning of time.

“Aesthetics aside, from a symbolic perspective, I think your sister chose well.”

“Red for danger and black for death? Yeah, that sounds about right in my case.”

He chuckles with a shake of his head, his fingers tracing along the skin of your ankle. “Colors can have a variety of meanings as I’m sure you’re already aware. I prefer to think of them as representing courage and power which better suits you,” he says, drawing your gaze to him with an undeniable pull.

Eyes interlocked, it takes full control for you to break the connection, focusing instead on the flowers sat on a table behind him. The literal bloodred roses are in full bloom with blood droplets dripping into the soil they’re planted in. Swallowing, you finally answer. “And you study the meaning of colors too? Fascinating.”

One shoulder lifts in a half-shrug. “I know a small bit. Otherwise how else would I be able to dress fashionably?” He jokes. “Actually, mother is the one who’s well-versed in the symbolic meaning of colors. I just know the most about red and black because of how much they pertain to our world.” His hand drops away from your ankle, the warmth escaping with him. “Are you ready to go back?” When you nod, he gathers you into his arms and stands before flying up through the opening in the ceiling.

The sudden change in gravity has you quickly wrapping your arms around his neck so you can hang on even if he has a secure grip on you. While there’s not much of a breeze, the night is still rather cool, enough to slowly sap the heat from your body especially with the thin nightgown you’re currently wearing. Thankfully the heat from V’s bare skin is more than enough to at least help you retain some warmth. And yet, despite being shirtless, he’s not fazed in the slightest by the night air.

It only takes a few seconds for you to reach the balcony of your room, but rather than setting you on your feet, he instead carries you to your bed and gently sets you down on the soft mattress. His arms don’t slide out from underneath you and you don’t release the hold you from around his neck. “Hopefully now that you’ve seen her, you can rest easier tonight. And I’ll let the heads know to keep an eye out in case you begin sleepwalking again. You’ve already survived one close call and I don’t want you getting hurt,” he says.

“Thanks, I hope that’ll be the last of it too.” With the close proximity, your noses almost brush and if you only lift your head a tad then your lips would touch. The notion has you wanting to draw closer, an innate urge to feel how soft they might be.

V also peers down at you with an intensity of his own before he moves first. He leans closer, lips drawing near and your mouth tingles in anticipation of making contact only for you to feel a gentle touch against your cheek. As he presses a kiss on your skin, your face feels hot, cheeks rapidly heating as a result and you know he must be able to feel the warmth radiating on his lips.

And then he pulls away much too soon, removing his arms from around you while your own limply fall into your lap. “Rest well, little dove,” he murmurs, his umber eyes now a molten onyx, with a longing that hides just below the surface.

“Good night, V.” You somehow manage to gain control of your voice, entire body now warm with no traces of the frigid night air left remaining.

Leaving you with one more smile, you watch him walk to the door, his wings the last that you see before the door closes shut. He just kissed you on the cheek. While the two of you have been nothing but amicable, once he dropped the initial flirtatious façade and arrogance, is he implying something different now? Or was that simply a friendly gesture? You can’t tell, having no idea what the demonic customs are and you’re not sure exactly how much of the human ones apply in this instance either.

Needless to say, sleep doesn’t come for the rest of the night. Even as you try tossing and turning, you only manage dozing off every so often. The hours drag by as you fidget beneath your covers before you finally just get up and dressed for the day. You’re walking down the hall towards the kitchen as you decide to go ahead and eat breakfast since morning call will be soon enough anyway. Besides, you want to talk to Lhaine and ask her about the prince’s display of affection. Or maybe you should hold off on telling her, not sure if you’re prepared for her onslaught of questions and comments.

Before you step onto the stairs, you hear voices and see a pair of figures standing just behind the thrones. Ducking down, you press against the wall, straining to hear what they’re saying.

“Any new information?” The first person asks and you recognize him as the King, only now able to catch a glimpse of his glowing red eye.

“No, I’m afraid information has been scarce and no one seems to know the exact coordinates,” the other person says. Though you crane your neck, their back faces you and they’re obscured in the shadows yet they seem to be male.

“Even at the last location?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You’ve already failed me once,” the King growls. “Keep searching and only report back once you’ve discovered something useful to our quest. The gemstone mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, the family’s stability is of utmost importance and I will not rest until we succeed.” The other person gives a bow before walking off, disappearing into the dark shadows below the stairwell while the King heads off in the opposite direction. It’s only when they’re gone do you suddenly remember the strange shadowy figure you saw in the garden when you first began staying in your old room, realizing that that’s the same person.

You continuing waiting at the top of the stairs until the slightest sliver of twilight begins creeping through the windows before you finally stand up straight, knees stiff from being in that position. What in the world could the King possibly want with some gemstone?

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