The blood price of love
Chapter:17 part three
Before you could even gasp at the wreckage, Taehyung’s hand shot out, pinning you against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. His chest was heaving, his gold eyes searching your face with a desperation that bordered on madness. You squeezed your eyes shut, hot tears finally spilling over and tracking down your cheeks, your small frame shaking under the weight of his suffocating intensity. You waited for the next blow, the next bite, or perhaps another roar of command, but the oppressive pressure in the room suddenly vanished.
When you finally opened your eyes, the silence was absolute. Taehyung was gone. The only thing remaining was the heavy expensive jacket, draped carelessly over your trembling shoulder.
You slid down the wall, your dress ruined and your shoulder throbbing where his fangs had claimed their territory. You curled into yourself, burying your face in your knees as the first sob broke through. Then another, and another, until you were shaking with the sheer exhaustion of being the center of a storm you couldn't control.
"I told him that the volatility of his aura was peaking," a bright, melodic voice drifted from the doorway. "Namjoon was absolutely right—Taehyung is damaging things again. That boy really needs to learn some temper control, or he's going to bankrupt the university in window replacements alone."
You jumped, whipping your tears away with the back of your hand and glancing up to see Professor Hobi leaning against the doorframe. His expression was a mixture of pity and amusement, his eyes scanning the shattered glass and the crushed desks with a practiced sigh.
"Professor Hobi!" you gasped, your voice sounding raw and fragile. "I... I was just... the wind, it just..."
Hobi let out a soft, knowing chuckle, stepping over a piece of floating debris that had only just finished settling. He reached out, gently patting your head as if you were a frightened kitten. "Little lamplight, for your information, this is an incredibly rare occurrence. It's practically a miracle—the first time any girl has ever actually had an effect on Taehyung's emotional stability. Usually, he's as steady as a mountain of ice. To make him break things... well, you've managed to stir something in him that hasn't been touched in centuries."
You looked up at him, your eyes red and blinking with confusion,"What... what do you mean?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "He didn't stir anything—he just attacked me. He's terrifying."
"Terrifying, yes," Hobi agreed with a playful wink, though his gaze softened with a hint of genuine sympathy. "But in the world of royal vampires, terror is often just a clumsy mask for a heart that doesn't know how to handle its own hunger."
Before you could process the implication, a heavy, weary sigh echoed from the hallway.Namjoon stepped into the room,his eyes scanning the devastation of the classroom—the shattered glass, the splintered wood, and your trembling form. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a long moment of silent prayer.
"I swear," Namjoon groaned, his voice resonating with a deep, guttural fatigue, "one of these days, I am actually going to follow through on it. I really want to quit this principal job. The paperwork for 'unexplained atmospheric anomalies' is becoming a full-time occupation."
Hobi let out a delighted chirp, leaning back against the doorframe with a mischievous grin. "Well, if you're truly resigning, Namjoon-hyung, let me know! I’ll apply for the position immediately. Imagine the school spirit if I were principal! We’d have mandatory dance breaks between every lecture and glitter in the hallways!"
Namjoon didn't even look up from the wreckage; he just stared at a particularly splintered desk leg with a look of profound exhaustion. "The thought of you in charge is exactly why I’m not resigning," he muttered, though his gaze finally softened as it landed on you. He noticed your shredded collar and the way you were clutching Taehyung’s oversized jacket around yourself. "Y/N, you're shaking. Go home. My driver is waiting outside".
"Thank you, Principle Namjoon," you whispered, your voice still thick with unshed tears. You didn't wait for another word, scrambling to your feet and clutching the heavy fabric of the jacket to your chest. You hurried out of the classroom.
Once you had vanished around the corner, the atmosphere in the room shifted back to one of weary professional concern. Namjoon leaned against a blackened chalkboard, his gaze following the empty doorway. "Jimin loves her," he murmured.
Hobi tilted his head, his playful expression fading into something more contemplative. "Love, or obsession?" he countered softly.
Namjoon sighed,He looked at the shattered windows and the lingering scent of Taehyung’s volatile aura. "Which is exactly why we need to ensure Y/N stays as far away from Taehyung as possible," he murmured, his voice heavy with a foresight that bordered on dread. "Taehyung is a catalyst. If he continues to carve his claim into her, Jimin will lose whatever fragile control he has left over himself. We can't afford a royal war."
Hobi hummed, crossing his arms as he looked toward the door where you had disappeared. "You worry too much,Namjoon. That little lamplight is practically tethered to Jimin.".
"I hope you're right," Namjoon replied, though his expression remained grim. "Now, please, for the love of everything, help me clear this wreckage before the janitors have a heart attack. I have to go handle the fallout of the festival." Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode out of the room.
Hobi remained in the silence for a moment, his gaze drifting to the spot where you had been pinned against the wall. A small, enigmatic smile played on his lips as he whispered to the empty room, "Love, obsession, or a royal collision... either way, it's going to be fascinating to watch."
The gravel of the driveway crunched beneath your feet, a rhythmic, grounding sound that contrasted the chaotic drumming of your heart. You were halfway to the sleek black sedan waiting for you when a high-pitched shriek sliced through the evening air.
"Y/N! Y/N! Wait up!"
You froze, shoulders hunching instinctively. Soomin skidded to a halt beside you, her face flushed with excitement, but her expression shifted the moment her eyes landed on you. She gasped, her gaze darting from your shredded collar to the oversized, expensive fabric of Taehyung's jacket draped over your shaking frame.
"Omo! Y/N, what happened to your dress?" she shrieked, her eyes widening in a mix of horror and sudden, manic realization. She leaned in, sniffing the air, her expression morphing into a smug, knowing grin. "Wait a minute... that’s Professor Taehyung’s jacket! Don't tell me you two actually did it? In a classroom? Right under our noses?"
"Soomin, please, stop it! It’s not what you think!" you pleaded, your voice sounding small and exhausted. You tried to pull the jacket tighter around you, wishing you could simply vanish into the upholstery of the sedan. "It's enough. Nothing happened, and nothing is happening. Please just let me go home."
But Soomin was an unstoppable force of curiosity. She grabbed your wrist, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and genuine alarm. "Forget about the dress for a second, Y/N! You need to move. Right now. There is a swarm of girls at the festival food center practically climbing over each other to get to Professor Taehyung. He’s... well, he’s not exactly himself. He’s fully drunk, and he's just sitting there while these vultures circle him. You need to come and save your 'boyfriend' from these bitches before they actually swallow him whole!"
Before you could even utter a denial, Soomin’s grip tightened, and she began dragging you backward, away from the safety of the car and back toward the heart of the festival.Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion; why would Taehyung be drinking? He was usually the embodiment of icy sobriety.
As you rounded the corner into the food center, the scene was exactly as Soomin had described. A crowd of female students had formed a tight, suffocating circle around a single table. At the center sat Taehyung. He was slouched in his chair, his tie loosened and his gaze unfocused, staring blankly at the table with an expression of profound boredom. Several girls were leaning in close, their voices a high-pitched, desperate chorus of flirtation, practically fighting for the privilege of touching his arm or offering him another glass of wine.
"See? Right there!" Soomin hissed, giving you a sharp shove forward. "Go on, save your boyfriend from the vultures before one of them actually manages to climb into his lap."
You stood at the edge of the crowd, clutching his jacket and trying to figure out how to step in. You were just a servant with no right to claim him.
Still, your chest ached seeing him like this—slumped over, unfocused, and completely vulnerable. His usual cold, strong composure was totally gone, leaving him dazed and helpless in the middle of the crowded.
A sudden, desperate instinct surged from within you,*Please, just for a moment, let the world be still,* you pleaded silently. You didn't know how, but you felt a snap in the air. Suddenly, the shrill laughter of the girls froze mid-note. A spilled glass of champagne paused in mid-air, a shimmering amber sculpture of liquid. The world turned a muted. Time had stopped.
In the absolute silence, you stepped forward. You reached the table and leaned over him, your voice a fragile whisper. "Master Taehyung, please... let's go. You can't stay here like this."
Taehyung’s head tilted slowly, his glazed eyes focusing on you with a heavy, sluggish intensity. For a moment, he looked like he might actually recognize you, but then his brow furrowed. As you reached out to touch his shoulder, he jerked away with a clumsy, sudden movement, his voice slurred and rough. "Don't touch me," he muttered, though there was no heat in the command, only a strange, wounded desperation.
You felt a sting of irritation flash through your fear. You sighed, pulling your hand back and stepping away. "Fine. Then stay here. Do whatever you want. Let them crowd you until you can't breathe."
You turned to leave, but before you could take a single step, a hand clamped around your wrist with bruising strength. With a sudden, dizzying surge of movement, Taehyung pulled you down, forcing you to sit abruptly in the chair beside him.
Then, the unthinkable happened. The proud, untouchable the man who viewed you as a mere object of curiosity—slid from his seat. He sank to the floor, his expensive trousers gathering dust as he dropped to his knees before you.
Taehyung leaned his forehead against your knee, his shoulders shaking. He looked up at you, his golden eyes no longer icy, but drowning in a desperate, intoxicated confusion. "I don't understand," he whispered, his voice cracking, stripped of all its usual authority. "I never gave it... I didn't give my heart to anyone. I locked it away centuries ago."
A single tear, tracked down his cheek. He gripped the fabric of your skirt, not with the violence of a predator, but with the desperation of a drowning man. "Then why... why did my heart become yours?"
"Master Taehyung..." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sudden, heavy silence of the frozen world. You looked down at him, the man who usually commanded the room with a single glance, now reduced to a trembling wreck at your feet.
His hand shot up, fingers curling around your jaw with a grip that was firm yet devoid of his usual aggression. He forced your gaze to meet his, his gold eyes swimming with a cocktail of intoxication and raw, unfiltered longing. "How dare you," he rasped, his breath smelling of expensive wine. "How dare you make my heart move like this? You are just a pathetic, fragile human... so why? Why does your presence make my heart so restless?"
You blinked, confused by the vulnerability in his voice. "Master Taehyung, you're just..."
"I kept my distance for a reason!" he interrupted, his voice cracking as he pulled you closer, his forehead still resting against your knee. "There was one reason I stayed away. Because I find myself becoming weak when I touch you. Something is happening inside me—something I never wished for. This... this pathetic feeling." He looked up at you, his expression tortured. "Tell me why. Tell me why you are becoming my entire world when you are nothing but a flicker of a candle in the dark."
"Master Taehyung," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs, "you're really drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
A bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaped his lips. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a fragile murmur. "Should I reveal everything to you? Should I tell you how I've spent the last few hours drowning in this noise just to forget the way you look at me?" His grip on your skirt tightened. "But you would just choose Jimin, wouldn't you? You would leave me behind the moment I became honest."
Your heart softened, and without thinking, you reached out. Your thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the lone tear that had tracked through the dust of the floor.
"If this is that pathetic feeling," he breathed, his gaze locking onto your lips, "then let it consume me."
He didn't wait for an answer. Taehyung surged upward, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss .It wasn't the violent, claiming kiss from the classroom; this was desperate, searching, and profoundly sad. It was the kiss of a man who had finally surrendered to the one thing he feared most: needing someone.
"I love you," he whispered against your lips.
The moment his lips sealed against yours, the psychic dam you had unwittingly built crashed down.
Time suddenly snapped back to life with a loud, sudden crash. The midnight fireworks exploded overhead, filling the sky with bright colors and loud booms,the booming echoes masking the gasp that escaped your lips as Taehyung pulled away.The crowd of girls rushed forward again, screaming and laughing. In the chaos of the noise and the shimmering light, Taehyung’s grip on you slackened, his eyes fluttering shut as the alcohol finally claimed his consciousness,leaving you trembling after his sudden confession.
----
The silence of the bedroom was absolute. You were lost in a dreamless slumber, the heavy exhaustion of the day finally claiming you. The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains.
A shadow detached itself from the doorway. Jungkook entered with a grace, his footsteps making no sound on the plush carpet. He paused at the edge of the bed, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had defined the last few hours.
A heavy sigh escaped him, a sound weighted with a longing he rarely allowed himself to feel. "Here you are," he murmured, his voice a low vibration in the quiet room. "Sleeping so peacefully while I've spent the entire day missing you, counting every second until I could be near you again." He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath cold against your cheek. "Seriously, how can you be so oblivious? I can feel it in the way you look at me, the way you let me in. I know you love me too. You just haven't said it yet."
He leaned closer, pressing a lingering, soft kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry," he whispered into the silence, his voice laced with a fierce determination. "After Jimin’s marriage is settled, I’ll announce ours. I’ll let the entire world know that you belong to me, and I belong to you."
A small, wistful smile touched his lips as he gazed at your sleeping form. In the quiet of the midnight hour, the ruthless prince disappeared, replaced by a boy who simply wanted to be loved. "You know... after the marriage, we can leave the royal burdens behind. We can live as humans. Just you and me," he whispered.
Jungkook imagined a life away from the blood-soaked politics of the court, a house filled with the chaotic laughter of three children who looked like you. The sheer absurdity of the thought—a royal vampire dreaming of a domestic, human life—made him let out a soft, airy chuckle.
You shifted slightly, your hand sliding across the silk sheets until your fingers brushed against his. In your deep slumber, you instinctively curled your fingers around his hand. Jungkook froze, his heart—which rarely beat for anyone—thumping violently against his ribs. He didn't pull away. Instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, marveling at how perfectly your small hand fit within his.
"I'm really going crazy, aren't I?" he murmured, a low, genuine chuckle escaping his chest. He wanted to wake you, to pull you into his arms and demand that you say those three words back to him, but the sight of your resting face—stripped of the fear and confusion that usually clouded your eyes—was too precious to disturb. He leaned down, his lips grazing the knuckles of your entwined fingers. "I love you, Y/N. More than this crown, more than my own pride."
He remained there for a long time, anchored by the simple weight of your hand in his, dreaming of a future where the scent of old blood and royal duty was replaced by the smell of morning coffee and the laughter of children. He finally disentangled himself with a reluctant sigh, stealing one last glance at you before vanishing back into the shadows of the hallway, leaving the room to the silence of the moonlight.
Across the estate, in the oppressive grandeur of the Second Queen's mansion. The Second Queen sat perched at her mahogany desk, the scratching of her fountain pen the only sound in the room. She was meticulously signing a series of legal documents, her expression one of cold, calculated indifference.
A manager entered the room, bowing low as he held a gold-embossed envelope. "Your Highness, Prince Jimin has sent the official invitation for his wedding. He requests your presence as the guest of honor."
The Queen didn't even look up from her paperwork. With a flick of her wrist, she gestured for the invitation to be tossed aside like a piece of common trash. "Throw that distraction in the wastebin," she commanded, her voice like ice. "Did you manage to verify the reports I asked for? Tell me the results of the investigation."
The manager straightened, his voice trembling slightly. "Yes, Your Highness. Your suspicions were correct. The alignment of the bloodlines is shifting."
The Second Queen finally paused, her pen hovering just millimeters above the parchment. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips, one that didn't reach her eyes. "Three days," she murmured, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "In three days, the chaos will peak, and that crown will finally be in my hand. Jimin is far too sentimental to see the blade coming until it’s already at his throat."
The manager bowed, his forehead nearly touching the marble floor, terrified by the sheer coldness radiating from her.
----
The mansion was alive with a chaotic, breathless energy the moment the sun crested the horizon. Tonight was the wedding, and every corridor buzzed with servants rushing past carrying towering silver trays, armfuls of fresh white roses, and delicate silk drapes.
You had thrown yourself right into the middle of the bustle,Anything was better than sitting alone in your room and letting the echo of Taehyung’s drunken confession dismantle your sanity. You spent the morning hauling crates of crystal glassware and adjusting the heavy velvet runners,you hoped that by becoming a blur of productivity, you could outrun the memory of those golden, shattered eyes and the way he had called you his entire world.
You were carrying a heavy vase of cascading orchids toward the grand foyer when your foot caught on a loose piece of silk carpeting. With a sharp gasp, the world tilted, and the vase began its descent toward the polished marble floor.
Before the crash could happen, a pair of strong, steady arms locked around your waist, hauling you back from the brink of a very messy disaster.
"Careful, little human," Jimin murmured, his voice a velvet caress that vibrated against your spine. He didn't let go immediately, his arms lingering around your waist. "Since when did the royal staff delegate their heavy lifting to a fragile thing like you? You’ll bruise yourself before the ceremony even begins."
You stepped back, your face flushing as you carefully reclaimed your balance. "I just wanted to help," you stammered, clutching the vase to your chest. "The staff is overwhelmed, and I... I can't just sit in my room."
Jimin’s gaze softened, though a playful, knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you in that familiar scent of sandalwood and something dangerously sweet. "Helping the staff, or running away from your own thoughts?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "Because you've been practically ghosting me since that night in the classroom, Y/N. I didn't realize my touch left such a lasting impression that you couldn't even look into my eyes for three days."
Your cheeks flared a deep crimson. The memory of the classroom—the blurring of pain and pleasure, the way he had claimed you with a terrifyingly gentle precision—surged back, making your knees feel weak. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but the words died in your throat.
Suddenly, a pair of strong arms swept around you from behind, and a pair of warm lips pressed firmly against your flushed cheek.
"Morning, Princess," Jungkook’s voice vibrated against your ear, possessive and loud enough to make several nearby servants pause in their tracks.
"Morning, Master Jungkook," you managed to squeak out, trying to wedge yourself out of his iron grip.
Jimin let out a soft, melodic chuckle, stepping back just enough to give you air, though his eyes remained fixed on you. "Well, little brother," Jimin murmured, his voice dripping with a playful sort of irony, "waking up so early? I didn't think you had the discipline for the dawn hours unless there was something—or someone—worth the effort."
Jungkook didn’t break his hold, his chin resting on your shoulder as he shot a challenging look at his brother. "Someone has to make sure the help isn't being distracted by your 'sweetness,' Jimin. You should focus on your wedding preparations. It would be a tragedy if the groom was too preoccupied with his servant to actually make it to the altar."
Jimin’s expression remained unruffled,"Hmm," he hummed, a cryptic sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. With a final, lingering glance at you—Jimin stepped away, gliding down the hallway with a wave of his hand. "Enjoy your morning, Jungkook. Try not to scare the staff away before the guests arrive."
The moment Jimin vanished around the corner, the playful air evaporated, Jungkook arms tightened around you, pulling you back against his chest until you could feel the frantic thrum of his heart. He didn't let go; instead, he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he scanned your flushed face.
"What were you doing with him?" Jungkook demanded, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "Why were you standing so close? I could practically smell his scent clinging to you from across the hall."
"I was just—" you started, your voice trembling. You tried to shift away, but he shifted with you, pinning you against the wall of the corridor. Jungkook’s gaze was obsidian, searching your eyes for a lie.
The heavy silence was shattered by a sudden, frantic gasp. A young maid, rushing toward the foyer with a massive, overfilled basin of celebratory confetti and shimmering gold petals, tripped over the hem of her own apron. She didn't just stumble; she launched forward with a spectacular lack of grace. With a loud *shloop* sound, the basin flipped upside down directly over Jungkook’s head.
A mountain of multicolored paper and glittering gold foil rained down on him, coating his perfectly styled dark hair and clinging to his expensive silk lapels. He looked less like a royal predator and more like a very grumpy, very expensive party decoration.
The maid immediately hit the floor, dropping to her knees and bowing her head in terror. "I'm so sorry, Master Jungkook! Please forgive me! It was an accident!" she wailed, her voice echoing through the hall.
Jungkook stood frozen, his eyes blinking slowly as a single piece of bright pink confetti settled on the tip of his nose. The air in the corridor turned frigid. His jaw tightened, and his chest expanded as he drew in a breath, his expression shifting into something murderous. He opened his mouth to unleash a scathing command that would likely send the poor girl into early retirement.
But before the first syllable of his rage could escape his lips, a strange sound bubbled up from your throat.
Jungkook froze, his gaze snapping from the trembling maid to your shaking shoulders. He slowly reached up, brushing a handful of bright pink confetti from his forehead, his expression a mix of bewilderment and offense. "Did you just... laugh at me?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low.
"No, Master Jungkook," you managed to gasp out, wiping a tear from your eye as you leaned against the wall for support. "It’s just... you actually look... incredibly cute like this."
The word 'cute' seemed to stun him more than the confetti had. Jungkook’s murderous expression faltered, his brow twitching as he looked down at the gold foil clinging to his eyelashes. A slow, smug smile crept across his lips, and he shook his head, sending a shower of pink paper fluttering to the floor like dying cherry blossoms.
"Cute?" he echoed, his voice regaining its characteristic velvet arrogance. He stepped closer, invading your space. "I am not 'cute,' Y/N. I am hot. I am devastatingly handsome. You are simply lucky that I allow you to gaze upon such perfection." He reached up, flicking a piece of gold foil from his cheek with a practiced, smug grace.
He turned his gaze to the trembling maid, who was still pressed against the marble floor. The murderous aura that had begun to coil around him had vanished, replaced by a rare, fleeting softness. "Go," he commanded, though his voice lacked its usual bite. "Just be more careful with your footing next time."
The maid let out a sob of relief, scrambling to her feet. She bowed frantically, her eyes darting between the glitter-covered prince and you. "Thank you, Master Jungkook! Thank you so much, Ma'am!" she chirped, casting a grateful glance toward you before disappearing around the corner as quickly as she had arrived.
Jungkook’s smug expression lingered for a moment, but as he looked at you, the arrogance in his eyes flickered. He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something quieter, almost hesitant. "By the way," he murmured, his gaze searching yours, "what was the reason we were... fighting earlier?" He paused, the silence stretching between you. "Actually, never mind. I don’t want to fight anymore. It just messes with us—with our relationship."
The word *relationship* hung in the air, shimmering and fragile. You blinked, You opened your mouth, the question *'What relationship?'* practically vibrating on your tongue, but before you could breathe the words, a booming voice echoed from the end of the gallery.
"Jungkook! get over here before the florist decides the lilies belong in the fountain!" Namjoon’s voice roared. He was standing by the grand archway, gesturing wildly toward a group of confused botanists who were currently arguing over the placement of a three-story floral installation.
Jungkook leaned in, the scent of expensive cologne swirling around him, and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "I'll talk to you later—properly," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low vibration that sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could even blink, he vanished toward the chaos of the floral installation, leaving you standing in the middle of the corridor.
You leaned back against the cold marble wall, your hand instinctively rising to touch the spot where his lips had rested. *Relationship.* The word echoed in your mind, looping like a broken record. What on earth was he talking about?
As you began to walk back toward your room , the weight of your own secrets pressed heavily on your chest. You needed to clarify what that kiss meant,but how could you possibly ask him without revealing the blueprint of your strategy? To admit that his affection was a tool for your awakening would be to shatter the fragile, human connection you had finally started to build with him
The silence of the corridor was suddenly punctured by the rhythmic *tap-tap-tap* of polished boots against marble. You looked up to see Taehyung approaching, his gaze fixed intently on his phone, his expression the usual mask of cold indifference. Panic flared in your gut; you weren't ready to face him.
In a moment of sheer, instinctive desperation, you lunged for the nearest cover—a massive, ornate velvet curtain that draped over a decorative alcove. You dove behind the heavy fabric, pulling the gold tassels shut just as Taehyung stepped into the space where you had been standing a second ago. You held your breath, your heart hammering against your ribs, praying that the thick velvet would swallow the sound of your frantic breathing. *Please don't see me, please just keep walking,* you pleaded silently, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Hide and seek? How quaintly childish," a low, resonant voice vibrated through the fabric.
You gasped, your eyes snapping open to find Taehyung’s face inches from yours. He hadn't even looked up from his phone to find you; he had simply sensed your presence. He looked down at you, arched an eyebrow, and leaned back with a slow, rhythmic click of his tongue.
"I wasn't hiding!" you stammered, stepping out from behind the curtain and trying to smooth down your disheveled clothes. "I just... I wasn't ready to face you yet."
Taehyung finally slid the phone into his pocket, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that felt like it was peeling back layers of your skin. A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, one that didn't quite reach the coldness of his eyes. "Is that so? Because the reports of your bravery are quite contrasting. I heard you were the one who managed to handle me yesterday while I was... indisposed."
Your heart skipped a beat. The memory of the festival—the way he had clung to you, the desperate confession. You looked at him, searching for a flicker of that vulnerability, and whispered, "Master Taehyung... about your conf—"
"Well, thanks," he said, his voice a flat, tonal void. "But don't dare to interfere with my personal space again. My lapses in judgment are my own to deal with, not yours to archive."
The rejection was so clinical it felt physical, like a sudden drop in temperature that left you shivering. You stood there, blinking, the echo of his desperate *'you are my entire world'* still ringing in your ears. The contrast was dizzying. He had been a man undone by his own longing only hours ago, and now he was treating you like a smudge on a painting he intended to ignore.
"Master Taehyung," you called out, your voice small and trembling as he began to turn away. "What you said to me yesterday... do you remember? You told me you loved—"
Taehyung stopped, but he didn't turn around. "I don't have time for remembering nonsense," he replied, his voice devoid of the warmth that had once broken him. "Consider it a byproduct of the alcohol. A temporary glitch in a century of silence."
Without another word, he vanished.
You stared at the empty space, your hand dropping from the velvet curtain. "So it was all a lie," you whispered to the silence, the words feeling like lead in your stomach. But as you repeated the thought, a stubborn, aching contradiction flared in your chest. If it was a lie, why did the memory of his voice—that raw, shattered confession—still feel like a brand against your skin? Could a drunk person lie with that much desperation? Could a man who has spent centuries in cold silence accidentally stumble into a truth so profound that he had to erase it the moment he woke up?
You shook your head violently, trying to dislodge the image of his golden eyes. *Stop it, Y/N,* you scolded yourself, clutching your arms across your chest. *You need to focus. You don't have time for this.*
----
The vanity mirror was a constellation of blinding bulbs, reflecting a vision in ivory and lace. Mia sat motionless as the makeup artist applied a final, shimmering glaze to her lids.
Jungkook leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over a chest clad in a sharp, charcoal suit. He looked at her—and a flicker of something old and bruised crossed his features before the habitual mask of arrogance slid back into place. "Well," he drawled, his voice sliding through the room, "the red accents of the decor almost match your lips. You look slightly less ugly than usual, Mia."
Mia let out a soft, melodic laugh, the sound lacking its usual brightness. She looked at the makeup artist with a gentle smile. "Could you give us a few minutes? Just a moment of privacy for the bride?"
As soon as the door clicked shut, the silence in the room became suffocating. Mia turned to Jungkook, her gaze searching his. "Be honest," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't tell me you've never dreamed of this. Me, in this dress... but walking toward you."
Jungkook’s expression didn't flicker, but his fingers tightened slightly against his sleeves. "Mia, stop joking. It’s unbecoming of a bride."
Mia took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the ivory lace. "If you ever truly loved me—even just once, in a way that mattered—please, Jungkook. Don’t attend this wedding. Stay away from this. For the sake of whatever we used to be."
Jungkook’s expression remained a frozen mask, though his gaze flickered toward the window, where the first guests were beginning to arrive. "Do you really think I’m the kind of man to mess up your wedding?" he asked, his voice sliding into that familiar, velvet arrogance. "Do you actually believe I’m that desperate for your attention that I’d forgot the spectacle of your union with my brother?"
"Jungkook, please," she whispered, a single tear threatening to ruin the shimmering glaze on her lids.
"Well, sorry to inform you," he replied, stepping closer to adjust a stray lock of her hair.
Mia let out a broken sob and suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his waist in a crushing hug. She buried her face in his charcoal suit, her voice muffled and desperate. "I'm sorry, Jungkook. I'm so sorry, but I didn't have a choice."
----
The grand oak doors swung open, the heavy brass creaking loudly against the sudden silence of the sanctuary. All eyes turned as Mia stepped onto the marble aisle, a vision of ivory lace and blinding silver thread.
Jimin stood at the altar, waiting with immaculate poise in his dark velvet coat. As she glided up the steps toward him, he extended a gloved hand to steady her. Leaning in close, his voice slid like silk into her ear. "You look beautiful, Mia... though sadly, it's all going to waste."
Mia’s gaze flickered, a momentary flash of uncertainty crossing her face, but she stepped closer, her grip on the bouquet tightening. "I can't even explain how long I've been waiting for this, Jimin," she whispered back.
The ceremony proceeded with a dizzying, choreographed precision. When the time came for the exchange of rings, Mia took the sliver band and slid it onto Jimin’s finger. The metal clicked into place, a permanent seal of their union. But as she pulled her hand away, her voice lost its sweetness. "You know," she murmured, barely audible to anyone but the man she had just wed, " She was such an idiot for loving a monster."
Before Jimin could process her words, a sharp, choked gasp tore from his throat.
His eyes widened in shock as a dark, violent stream of blood spilled from his lips. He clutched wildly at his chest, his knees buckling as he collapsed heavily onto the altar carpet, blood staining the white fabric around him. The guests gasped in unison, the celebratory atmosphere curdling into instant horror.
Hobi and Namjoon lunged forward, their instincts screaming to intervene, while Taehyung’s face shifted from cold indifference to raw panic. He was already mid-stride, his hand reaching out to catch his brother before the royal guards could even react.
"Don't you dare move a single muscle."
The voice was like a whip, cracking through the chaos. Jin stepped out from the shadows of the sanctuary, his expression one of chilling composure. He stood with an air of effortless authority, his gaze sweeping over the panicked brothers. "If you value the life of your youngest brother, Jungkook,And my men are currently surrounding the mansion."
"Guards! Go bring Y/N here immediately!" Mia commanded, her voice slicing through the heavy, panicked atmosphere of the sanctuary. Several guards hesitated briefly before rushing toward the exit to follow her orders.
Jimin lay gasping on the crimson-stained carpet, his hands clutching weakly at his chest as dark blood trickled steadily from the corner of his lips. He forced his heavy eyelids open, staring up at her in disbelief. "Mia... why?" he choked out, his voice a frail rasp.
"What the hell are you doing, Mia?!" Taehyung snarled, his eyes flashing a dangerous crimson as every muscle in his body coiled to strike. "This is a wedding! Have you completely lost your mind?!"
Mia’s gaze flickered over to Taehyung, her expression softening for a split second before hardening into pure stone. "Oppa, please... stay out of this," she pleaded quietly, her tone laced with a tragic finality.
"Where is Jungkook?!" Namjoon demanded, his powerful aura flaring around him as he glared at Jin . "What have you done to him ?!"
"Jimin! Stay with us!" Hobi yelled, his instincts screaming at him to rush forward, yet forced to stay frozen in place.
"Mia..." Jimin gasped again, his vision swimming as the lethal toxin began to take hold. "Why...?"
Mia took a slow step toward his trembling form, looking down at him with a chilling, hysterical laugh that vibrated through the silent room. "You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to see this, Jimin," she hissed, her voice trembling with years of suppressed rage. "To watch you on your knees, begging for the last drop of your life. This poison is slow... it’s going to destroy you from the inside out. Tell me, why did you do it to her?! She loved you! She betrayed me just to protect you, and how did you repay her?! Why did you kill my sister?!"
Before the words could even settle, the sanctuary doors burst open once more. Two guards dragged Y/N into the grand hall—her head hung limply, completely unconscious as her feet dragged against the polished marble.
"Leave her alone!" Taehyung roared, taking an explosive step forward, his fangs fully bared. "Don't you dare touch her!"
Mia didn't even turn to look at him. Her bloodshot eyes snapped directly onto Jin. "Kill her, Jin!" she barked, her voice shrill and unhinged. "Kill her right now!"
Jin’s cold composure didn't break, but his eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits as he fixed Mia with a stern, authoritative glare. He raised a hand, his tone dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "Control yourself, Mia," Jin warned, his voice cutting through her hysteria like ice. "We can't do that. We stick to what we decided—do not forget the plan."
"I promised myself I would get Jimin on his knees, taking the last breath of his life," Mia hissed, her eyes wild as she glared down at the dying prince. "And I want Jimin to see his love dying right in front of his eyes!"
Taehyung’s chest heaved with fury. Sparks of dark energy flared in his palms as he tried to unleash his powers, but the energy sputtered and died before it could even form. "What...?" he gasped, panicking. Namjoon and Hobi tried to summon their own abilities to break forward, but their bodies refused to obey.
Mia let out a cruel, mocking laugh at their desperation. "Don't waste your time on this. Your powers are completely locked—did you really think I wouldn't prepare for royal blood?"
She lunged forward, raising the dagger to plunge it into the heart of the unconscious girl, but Taehyung threw himself directly in front of the blade. "Stay out of this, Oppa!" Mia screamed, her voice cracking with unhinged obsession. "She snatched Jungkook away from me!"
Without his vampire strength, Taehyung struggled frantically to block the strike, but the scuffle turned chaotic. The silver blade flashed through the air—and sank deep into the chest of the body on the floor.
A sickening silence fell over the room.
Blood pooled onto the white marble, and Taehyung went completely blank, his hands dripping with red as he stared at the lifeless body in horror. "No... no, no, no..."
Suddenly, every weapon held by Jin’s men—every gun, blade, and dagger—began to violently vibrate. One by one, the metal was ripped from the guards' hands, rising into the air and hovering ominously beneath the cathedral ceiling.
Jin’s cold composure instantly shattered into pure shock. "What...?"
Slowly, measured footsteps echoed down the cathedral stairs.
You walked down into the sanctuary, your eyes glowing with a terrifying, raw energy that made the stone walls tremble. Your voice was a cold, deadly thread that cut through the frozen room.
"What did my mom do wrong?"
Mia whirled around, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes darted between you and the floor. "How...? I just—"
When Mia looked back at the corpse on the carpet, the illusion faded. The girl she had just stabbed was not you—it was merely a maid dressed in your clothes.
"WHY DID YOU KILL MY MOM?!" you screamed, a violent wave of telepathic power detonating from your body.
The blast hit the room like a physical shockwave. Guards, Mia, and the brothers were all slammed violently against the stone walls, pinned firmly in place by an invisible, crushing weight.
Jin gasped as the force wrapped tightly around his neck, lifting his feet completely off the marble floor. He clawed helplessly at his throat, his face draining of color as he looked into your tear-streaked, furious eyes.
"Y/N... listen... it's—" Jin choked out, struggling to draw a single breath.
You stepped closer, the floating weapons pointing directly at his heart, your voice laced with devastating heartbreak and uncontrollable fury. "Why did you take my mom from me?!"
"Y/N, stop!" Jin choked out, his fingers clawing uselessly at the invisible force gripping his throat, his feet dangling several inches above the marble floor.
"I ASKED WHY!" you screamed, your voice echoing with a terrifying, supernatural resonance that caused the grand stained-glass windows to rattle violently in their lead frames.
Mia, pinned flat against the cold stone wall beside him, gritted her teeth against the crushing pressure. "Because she gave birth to a monster!" she spat back, her eyes wide with unhinged hatred. "Because she refused to—"
"Then maybe I should just kill all human beings!" you snarled. The air in the grand sanctuary turned suffocatingly frigid, the hundreds of floating weapons vibrating as their sharp points angled directly at the panicked guards and Jin's heart.
"No, Y/N, you can't!" Mia gasped, genuine horror breaking through her hysterical facade. "You can't kill innocent people!"
"MY MOM WAS INNOCENT TOO!"
The raw energy detonating from your chest shattered the nearest chandeliers, showering the altar in glittering glass.
Seeing the sheer destruction unfolding, Jin gasped out a frantic warning to Mia. "Mia... stop her! She can destroy everything... distract her mind!"
Mia closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Channeling her mental abilities, she forced a wave of illusion magic through the chaotic air, projecting a vivid vision directly before your eyes.
The floating blades blurred. Suddenly, standing right in front of you were the warm, smiling figures of your past—your mom, your brother, and your halmoni. They looked at you with gentle, loving eyes, opening their arms to welcome you home.
The overwhelming rage in your chest flickered. Your glowing eyes softened, tears spilling down your cheeks as a faint, heartbroken smile touched your lips. "Mom..." you whispered, stepping forward toward the illusion, your grip on the telekinetic hold faltering for a fraction of a second.
"Gotcha."
A low, smooth voice broke through the silence.
Standing directly behind Mia, Jimin was suddenly upright—the dark blood wiped cleanly from his mouth, his golden eyes burning with lethal, royal vitality. In one swift, blinding motion, he reached out and snatched a glowing, shadowy orb directly out of Mia's grasp, absorbing the sealed energy back into his own veins.
Jimin tilted his head, a dark, dangerously playful smirk spreading across his features as he felt his strength roar back to life.
"It's really bad manners, baby," Jimin purred, his voice dropping into an icy, lethal register as he looked down at Mia. "Stealing my brother's power and using it on us."
Mia and Jin both froze, their faces draining of all color in absolute shock.
Mia stumbled back against the altar, her breath coming in ragged, disbelieving hitches. "How... how are you standing?!" she gasped, staring at Jimin in pure horror. "That poison—it was meant to liquefy your internal organs!"
Jimin raised a hand, casually wiping a stray drop of blood from the corner of his lips. A sharp, mocking smirk curved his mouth. "Oh, baby..." he cooed, tapping his index finger against his temples. "Do I have 'idiot' written across my forehead? I’m a royal prince".He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting. "I'm a really good actor, right?"
Mia’s voice cracked, tears of frustration spilling over her mascara. "How long...? How long did you know?!"
Jimin’s smirk faded, replaced by a cold, heavy sadness. "I genuinely loved your sister, Mia," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of a painful past. "I never betrayed her. I trusted you... I thought of you as family."
Mia let out a harsh, bitter laugh that echoed through the shattered sanctuary. "Love?! A monster like you doesn't know how to love! All you know how to do is destroy everything you touch!"
"Jimin, we don't have time for this!" Namjoon shouted, his voice slicing through the confrontation as he shielded his face from the pressure roaring through the cathedral. "Look at her! We need to stop Y/N, she’s completely out of control!"
Jimin turned toward you, his expression darkening as he took a firm step forward to reach you. But before he could even get close, an invisible, crushing wall of raw telekinetic force repelled him, throwing up a barrier that no one could cross.
Mia cowered against the altar, staring at you in absolute panic. "What did you do to her?!"
"Jimin, I think your blood made her like this!" Namjoon shouted over the howling wind, his sharp eyes analyzing the ancient, glowing aura swirling around you. "When you gave her your blood, it unlocked something dormant!"
"We need to stop her right now!" Hobi pleaded, gritting his teeth against the sheer force tearing through the room. "Otherwise, she's going to destroy everything in this world!"
Jimin braced himself to force his way through the lethal storm, but a shadow suddenly blurred past him.
Before anyone could react, Taehyung lunged straight into the eye of the storm. Ignoring the pressure crushing his lungs and the sheer energy threatening to tear him apart, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your trembling, radiating body flush against his chest.
"Y/N, stop!" Taehyung begged, his voice raw and desperate right beside your ear as he held you close. "Please, Y/N... stop. This isn't you."
The moment Taehyung’s arms wrapped tightly around you, the crushing pressure in the sanctuary violently flickered.
"Get off me!" you sobbed, your voice distorted by the raw, crackling power echoing off the shattered walls. "None of you understand... you don't know what they took from me!"
"I don't care about them," Taehyung murmured fiercely, tightening his hold even as the floating glass and sharp blades sliced thin red lines across his skin. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his chest heaving against yours. "Please... don't turn into a monster like us, Y/N."
Those words pierced through the blinding haze of your rage.
Your breath hitched, the glowing light in your eyes flickering wildly before dying out completely. The immense, suffocating power instantly vanished, and the hundreds of hovering blades crashed heavily to the marble floor with a deafening, echoing clatter.
Without the surge of ancient power sustaining you, the sheer exhaustion and heartbreak hit you all at once. Your knees buckled, your body going completely limp as the darkness swallowed you.
---
You slowly fluttered your eyes open, your vision blurred and unfocused as the heavy darkness gradually receded. The crushing, suffocating weight of Ava's power was gone, leaving your body feeling completely hollow, drained, and aching.
As your surroundings slowly came into focus, you felt a cold, steady pressure around your fingers. Sitting right at the edge of the bed was Taehyung, his head resting near your arm, his hands tightly holding yours as if he hadn't let go for a single second.
The moment he felt your hand twitch, his head snapped up.
You winced softly, trying to push yourself up from the mattress, but before you could even sit up properly, Taehyung pulled you straight into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight, frantic hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his chest heaved. The strength in his hold was almost bruising, as if he were trying to fuse your body to his to ensure you wouldn't vanish into the ether again.
"Have you lost your mind?" he murmured, his voice ragged and stripped of its usual coldness. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours with a raw, terrifying intensity. "Why would you let Ava’s power consume you like that? Do you have any idea what happens when that kind of grief takes over? If she had fully consumed you, Y/N... I would have lost you forever."
"Master Taehyung..." you whispered softly, your voice barely a breath.
When you looked closer at his face, your heart dropped. Tears were shimmering in Taehyung’s eyes—actual, glistening tears that threatened to spill over. The sight felt wrong; this was the man who viewed emotions as weaknesses, who had treated you like a mere object for so long. Yet here he was, trembling against you, his composure not just cracked, but shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.
"Don't ever do that again," he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of a vulnerability he had spent years burying. "Don't let that power swallow you. I can't... I can't lose you to a ghost, Y/N."
The intensity of his embrace was overwhelming, his muscular arms locking you against him so tightly that the air was squeezed right out of your lungs. Your head rested against his collarbone, "Hmm... Taehyung... I can't breathe," you managed to wheeze, your small hands instinctively pushing against his chest.
"Yah, Taehyung! Let the poor girl breathe before you actually crush her ribs!"
The familiar, teasing voice of Hobi cut through the heavy atmosphere. He stepped into the room,he moved forward with a soft sigh, gently placing a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder to nudge him back. "Alright, alright, give her some space, you giant clingy puppy."
Hobi leaned over, pressing two fingers to your wrist and glancing at your pale complexion with a professional, diagnostic eye. He hummed softly, his gaze softening as he looked at your exhausted state. "Aww, look at our little Taehyungie," he cooed, glancing back at the taehyung with a smirk. "He’s completely smitten. But seriously, Tae, she’s drained. Her core is flickering; she needs absolute rest and a lot of hydration if she’s going to recover from that kind of psychic burnout."
Taehyung stiffened, the raw vulnerability that had just filled his eyes snapping shut like a book. He abruptly released his grip on you, stepping back so quickly he almost tripped over the edge of the bed. He cleared his throat, his expression shifting back into that familiar, stony mask, though his fingertips were still trembling. "Smitten? Don't be ridiculous," he spat, though the bite in his voice lacked its usual venom. "I was simply worried about the loss of her blood. She’s a valuable resource, and it would be a waste of a perfectly good servant if she burned herself out before I was finished with her."
He didn't look at you as he spoke. He couldn't. The lie was clumsy and transparent, a desperate attempt to rebuild the wall he had just let you see crumble. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the heavy mahogany door clicking shut behind him with a finality that left a lingering chill in the air.
Hobi sighed, shaking his head as he looked at you. "He's such a disaster," he whispered, his voice warm. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Don't mind him, Y/N. He doesn't know how to handle a heart that actually beats for someone else. Just focus on sleeping. The house is... well, 'chaotic' is an understatement, but for now, you're safe."
"Where are Master Jimin and Master Jungkook?" you asked softly, looking up at Hobi. "Is Master Jungkook okay?"
Hobi’s expression softened, though a flicker of pity crossed his eyes. He paused, glancing toward the hallway where the heavy silence of the estate felt oppressive. "Jungkook is... well, he's in a state," Hobi admitted, his voice dropping. "He’s in shock, Y/N. he really was close to Mia. Seeing that side of her—the betrayal." He gave you a small, encouraging smile, his hand lingering on your shoulder. "As for Jimin, he's recovering. But you, my little lamplight, need to focus on resting. You’ve carried the weight of an entire dead queen today. You've done more than enough."
With a gentle pat on your hand, Hobi stepped back, leaving you in the dim, velvet-shrouded quiet of the room.
Slowly, you pushed yourself off the bed, your legs feeling like lead. You navigated the winding corridors of the royal wing, When you reached the heavy double doors of Jimin’s private chambers, you didn't knock. You pushed them open softly, the sound of a melodic, melancholy chord greeting you before you even saw him.
Jimin was sitting on the wide window sill, the soft moonlight filtering through the glass and casting a silvery glow over his sharp features. His long fingers danced effortlessly across the strings of an acoustic guitar, pulling a sweet, mournful melody from the wood.
Without saying a word, you walked across the plush rug and sat down on the bench beside him.
Jimin didn't stop playing, but the ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Little human," he murmured, the guitar humming a low, resonant vibration that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. "You should be resting. You’ve done more today than most do in a lifetime. I honestly don't know how to return the favor of your help, and for that... I am sorry. My blood... it made you lose yourself. It made you crazy for a moment."
You leaned your head against the cool mahogany of the bench, the exhaustion finally catching up to you. "What will happen now?" you asked softly. "To Mia... and the Vampire Hunting Society?"
Jimin’s fingers slowed, coming to a halt on a lingering, melancholy chord. His gaze shifted to the horizon, his golden eyes reflecting the distant city lights. "As for Jin, his reign as the head of the society is over. He broke the most sacred laws of our kind to orchestrate this chaos. He will face the consequences of the council; the society, as we knew it, is effectively ending. And Mia..." He paused, his voice softening into something complex and painful. "I won't touch her. Despite everything, she is still precious to me."
You remained silent, the weight of his admission hanging in the air. There was a strange, tragic kinship in the way they all clung to the people who had hurt them the most.
"You could ask me," Jimin said suddenly, his voice a low hum that vibrated through the bench. He didn't look at you, his fingers hovering just above the guitar strings. "You could ask if I truly killed Mia’s sister. You could demand the truth of how she died, or why I let her believe it was my hand that did it."
You looked straight back into his eyes and shook your head gently. "I don't need to. As much as I understand you, I know you wouldn't do that. Not in the way they think."
A genuine, surprised smile curved Jimin’s lips, a rare expression that didn't carry the usual mask of a performer. For a moment, the heavy tension of the royal bloodline seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of you in the silvery moonlight.
"You're far too kind for your own good, Y/N," he murmured, the guitar finally resting against his thigh. "It's a dangerous trait to have in this house."
You shifted your weight, your voice barely a whisper. "Are you... really okay, Master Jimin?"
"Well," Jimin said, the ghost of a smile lingering as he leaned back, the guitar shifting against his leg. "Are you expecting to find me sobbing in a corner, clutching a handkerchief and mourning my lost love?"
You let out a soft, tired giggle, the sound small and fragile in the vastness of the room. "No... just that the poison was so strong. I thought you might be in pain."
Jimin’s gaze softened, but there was a profound, ancient emptiness in his eyes, "pain is an old friend, Y/N. As for the tears..." He paused, a dry, melodic chuckle escaping his throat. "I think I forgot how to cry many centuries ago. But your concern is... refreshing."
"Master Jimin," you whispered, your voice trembling as you clung to the fabric of his sleeve. The softness of the moment shifted, the gratitude for his survival dissolving into a sudden, sharp ache in your chest. "Please... don't let anyone go. Whoever did this, whoever killed my mother... please don't let them just walk away."
"Why settle for the scraps of a broken world, little human, when we could simply rewrite the rules ourselves?" Jimin murmured, the melody of his voice now carrying a dangerous, magnetic edge.
You blinked, the exhaustion making your thoughts sluggish. "What do you mean?"
Jimin pulled you firmly onto his lap, his long fingers sliding between yours until your hands were tightly interlocked. He leaned down, his breath cool against your ear as he whispered with a quiet, desperate intensity, "I need you by my side, Y/N. I can't do this alone."
Before you could respond, his lips brushed against the curve of your neck. You felt the sharp, sudden sting of his fangs piercing your skin, followed immediately by a strange, intoxicating warmth that spread through your veins. As Jimin drank, the sheer exhaustion and heavy burden of the day washed over you, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
A Few Days Later — The Re-Coronation Ceremony
You adjusted the heavy velvet dress one last time, your eyes fixing on your reflection in the gilded glass. "I need to clear this thing," you murmured to yourself, your chest tight with a strange, lingering dread.
Leaving your chambers, you made your way straight to Jimin's room, pushing the heavy door open without hesitation.
"Jimin, I need to talk with you. It's important," you said urgently.
Jimin, standing before a long mirror while adjusting the silver embroidery of his royal coat, glanced at you through the reflection. "Go ahead, little human, but hurry up," he said smoothly, a half-smile on his lips. "The council has already come."
Before you could open your mouth to explain, the doors burst open, and Namjoon stepped into the room, his face dark with urgency. "Jimin, the Second Queen has arrived. You need to attend to her right now."
Jimin paused, his fingers lingering on the silver cuff of his sleeve. He let out a heavy, weary sigh that seemed to deflate his poised posture for a split second. He turned to you, his golden eyes shimmering with a mixture of apology and impatience. "I will listen to this later, little human," he murmured, gently brushing your shoulder as he pivoted toward the door. "Duty doesn't wait for conversations, and my mother is not a woman who enjoys being kept waiting."
The atmosphere in the Great Hall was suffocating, thick with the scent of ancient incense and the cold, oppressive energy of the Vampire Council. You stood off to the side, feeling small in your velvet gown, watching as the council members gathered in a semicircle of obsidian stone. This was the Re-Coronation, the moment designed to solidify Jimin’s return to the throne and restore order to a fractured kingdom. The air hummed with the anticipation of a formal decree, the silence so profound that you could hear the frantic beating of your own heart.
Jimin stepped forward, the light catching the regal curve of his jaw. The High Councilor raised a golden scepter, preparing to voice the final confirmation of Jimin's sovereignty. "By the laws of the First Blood, we hereby finalize the ascension of Prince Jimin as the King of—"
In a split second, a horrific, metallic screech ripped through the air.
Dozens of thick, dark iron chains—dripping with corrosive magic—erupted out of nowhere. In a violent, chaotic flash, the sharp, barbed links pierced Jimin’s body from every angle. The heavy metal tore brutally through his chest, back, and shoulders, driving in and out of his torso until wide, gaping holes were ripped right through him.
A collective scream of pure terror erupted from the court. Jimin gasped violently, a flood of crimson spilling past his lips as his eyes widened in shock.
With a sickening snap, the dark chains violently retracted, pulling back across the altar and winding straight into the pale wrists and outstretched hands of Jungkook.
Jungkook stood in the shadows, his hands smoking with dark aura and his eyes burning a terrifying, absolute crimson.
The entire sanctuary froze in utter horror as Jimin’s shattered, lifeless body crashed heavily onto the cold marble floor.
Jungkook stepped out from the shadows, his presence suffocating and absolute. He didn't look at the carnage he had created; his gaze was fixed on the throne. The Second Queen stepped forward, her voice ringing out with a triumphant, chilling clarity that silenced the gasps of the court. "The First Blood has fallen!" she declared, her eyes gleaming with a long-awaited victory. "Prince Jimin is dead. By the right of the strongest and the will of the bloodline, Jungkook is now the King of the Vampires!"
"Jimin!" You screamed, your voice breaking as you lunged forward, your velvet dress sweeping across the floor. You reached him, your hands trembling as you hovered over the gaping holes in his chest. "Jimin, wake up! Please, wake up!" You looked around frantically, pleading with the council, with the guards, with anyone. "Help him! Someone help him!"
But the court remained paralyzed. The nobility shifted away from you, their faces masks of indifference or fear. They were no longer looking at a dying prince; they were looking at a new, terrifying king.
Across the hall, Taehyung’s jaw clenched, his eyes flaring with pure shock and fury as he made a move to step out and stop this madness. But before he could take a single step, Mia darted out from the shadows, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling him back into the dark corner.
"Please, oppa, don't step out!" Mia whispered urgently, her voice shaking. She clung to him, her eyes wide with terror as she glanced at the crimson-eyed monster on the dais. "Don't go to him. That isn't the Jungkook we know. This is something else."
"Help him! Please, why isn't anyone helping him?!" you sobbed, looking frantically around the grand room at the councilors, the elders, and the guards. But no one moved. Every single vampire bowed their heads in terrified submission, completely paralyzed by fear.
Before your hands could touch Jimin, a cold, crushing grip locked tightly around your wrist.
You were violently yanked backward, crashing hard against a solid, dark-clad chest. You looked up in horror to find Jungkook staring down at you, his eyes glowing with dark, merciless dominance. He didn’t look at the broken remains of his brother on the floor; he looked only at you, his expression a terrifying mixture of triumph and obsession.
"Look at them, Y/N," Jungkook murmured, his voice a low, predatory rumble that vibrated against your spine. "The Council, the nobles, the guards... they aren't helping him because they are terrified. They are terrified of me." He tightened his grip on your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessive force that left no room for escape. "And they should be. I’ve spent my entire life playing the part of the younger brother, the second choice, the shadow. But today, the shadow has swallowed the light."
You struggled against him, your eyes darting back to Jimin’s motionless form. "He's dying! Jungkook, please, let me go to him! You can't just—"
"Let him die," Jungkook murmured, his voice devoid of the warmth you had once glimpsed in the quiet moments of your shared laughter. He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear, though the gesture felt less like a caress and more like a claim. "It was his own fault for thinking he could keep the things that belong to me. He tried to steal the sunlight, the crown, and you."
He shifted his grip, pulling you flush against his chest with a sudden, jarring force that made your breath hitch. His eyes, swirling with a dark, iridescent hunger, scanned your tear-streaked face with a chilling sort of fascination. "Stop wasting your tears on another man, my queen," he whispered, the title sounding like a sentence rather than a compliment. "The play is over. Come, let us go home. We have so much to discuss, and I find I have very little patience left for sharing."
"Let me go!" you shrieked, your voice echoing through the oppressive silence of the hall. You fought against him, your heels skidding on the polished marble, but it was like fighting a mountain. You lunged one last time toward Jimin’s cooling body, your fingertips grazing the velvet of his sleeve, before Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you off your feet.
He didn't even flinch at your resistance. Instead, his grip tightened possessively, anchoring you firmly against his solid chest as his crimson eyes swept over the kneeling, silent court one last time.
"Let's go home," Jungkook murmured low against your hair, his voice smooth, cold, and utterly relentless. "We have a lot to talk about."
With a single, swift turn, he carried you away from the bloody altar, ignoring your frantic thrashes and desperate tears as the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary slammed shut behind you, sealing Jimin's fate in the dark.
A/N: What an absolute emotional wrecking ball of a chapter From Taehyung’s raw confession to Jungkook’s brutal takeover, everything has completely shattered. What do you think is going to happen next now that Dark King Jungkook has claimed the throne and taken Y/N? Leave a comment down below with your theories and reactions—I’d love to read what you think will happen in the next chapter!
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