#vampire!sunwoo

The hospital always felt different at night. Most nurses hated the graveyard shift, but for you it was quieter. Less noise, fewer demands, and more time to just… breathe.

You liked the stillness. On night shift, silence meant safety.

But tonight, something felt wrong.

Somewhere in the hospital, a shadow moved.

***

Sunwoo hated hospitals.

Too many bodies. Too much blood.

But his “family” was starving, and as the newest turned, they sent him on errands like a dog on a leash: Steal the blood bags, come back. Nothing more.

Simple… until he smelled it.

Sweet. Alive.

The kind of scent that didn’t belong in a plastic bag, but inside a pulsing vein.

The scent hit his throat like fire, burning down his chest, sparking through his veins until his skin flushed hot, fangs aching. He staggered, one palm braced against the cold wall, swallowing down a growl.

And then he saw you.

Bent over the nurses’ station, uniform white under the harsh lights, hair pulled back to expose the faint curve of your neck.

The scent was you.

Sunwoo was caught between moving and not, suspended in disbelief. His eyes widened.

It had been two years.

Two years since he had last seen you, the girl he used to like, back when he was just Kim Sunwoo—25, stupid, loud, human. The girl who smiled at him like she meant it every single time, who laughed at all his dumb jokes as if they were the funniest things in the world. The one who never tried to change him, never looked past him, but saw him exactly as he was, while carrying her own quiet, self-contained world.

He’d thought he lost that chance forever, that he’d lost you forever, along with the warmth of the sun.

“...(Y/N),” his voice cracked like gravel, the name torn from him before he could stop it.

Your head snapped up.

For a heartbeat, you thought the shadows were playing tricks on you, until the figure stepped forward, hoodie low, face half-lit.

The pen slipped from your hand.

“...Sunwoo?”

Your body moved before your mind caught up, shoes skidding on tile as you ran straight into him.

“Sunwoo!”

You crashed against his chest, arms locking tight. Relief burned into anger as your fists thudded once against him before you broke, tears blurring your vision as you buried your face against him.

His body was solid, real, his scent achingly familiar. Chest heaved shallow as he stood stiff in your grip, every inhale dragging your sweetness deeper into him until his fangs throbbed with need.

Then his arms snapped around you. Not gentle—possessive. Like if he squeezed hard enough, he could fuse you into him and never let go again.

He buried his face into your neck, inhaling you like a man drowning, your pulse hammering against his lips.

Your scent. He could almost taste you.

“You—” your voice cracked, “you were gone, you were missing for years—! The police have been looking for you for months! After they found your car turned upside down the hill—erupted into flames—everyone thought the worst. I thought—I thought something happened, I thought you were—” you couldn’t finish the word: dead.

Your throat tightened as the questions tumbled out, desperate, trembling. “Where have you been all this time? How can you survive that?”

His chest shuddered against yours, a silence stretching until it almost hurt.

Then, rough and low, his voice muffled against your neck. “...I shouldn’t be this close to you.” The words weren’t an answer, they were an evasion, frayed at the edges, carrying weight he wouldn’t name.

You pulled back just enough to cradle his face, your hands unsteady, not from weakness but from the fear that if you blinked, he would vanish again.

His skin was cold, unnaturally still, like marble that had forgotten life. “You look pale—are you sick? That’s why you’re here?”

Sunwoo smirked faintly, lips twitching like he wanted to play it off. “Sick of not seeing you these past two years, maybe.”

You glared through tears. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” His hand sliding slowly upward until his fingers wrapped around the delicate curve of your neck. His thumb brushed dangerously close to your pulse, lingering there as if testing the frantic rhythm beneath your skin. “I missed you…”

Your heart skipped a beat. “…Sunwoo—”

He leaned in, cheek brushing yours until his nose skimmed down to your jaw. The faintest graze of his lips at your neck made your breath hitch.

“God,” he whispered, voice raw, “you smell like trouble.”

Every muscle in your body locked.

His mouth hovered over your throat, close enough to burn, close enough for his fangs to scrape if he stopped restraining himself. His entire body trembled with the effort of not sinking in.

And for one terrifying, intoxicating second, he swore he might.

***

Your hands trembled, but you didn’t pull away. The boy you thought you’d lost forever—he was here. Changed, but here.

“Sunwoo,” you whispered again.

“Careful saying my name like that,” his chest shook with a sound you couldn’t name, half a laugh, half a growl. “Keep tempting me and I’ll do something spectacularly unforgivable.”

“What do you mean?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “It means I’m hanging by a thread here, and you’re the one pulling it tighter. Cute, right?”

Sunwoo’s grip on you tightened, thumb grazing dangerously close to your throat. He leaned in again, lips hovering over your skin again, so close you felt the ghost of a graze, like he was seconds away from sinking in.

And then, he froze.

His whole body shuddered like restraint cost him everything. With a sharp exhale, he wrenched himself back too suddenly, as though your skin scorched him.

Before you could ask what was wrong—

The sharp ring of the nurses’ station phone sliced through the silence.

Sunwoo let out a breathless laugh, forcing a crooked grin onto his face. “Guess that’s your cue. You should probably get that, nurse.” His tone was playful, but the edge in his voice betrayed how tightly wound he was.

You blinked at him, torn, but habit won out, you turned and picked up the receiver.

“Hello? This is night shift, how can I help?” Your voice steadied as you answered, but your mind was still with him, every nerve buzzing with the ghost of his touch, the threat in his tone.

It was only a quick call—an update from another floor, a routine—but when you hung up and turned back…

The hallway was empty.

No trace of him.

No sound of footsteps, no lingering shadow.

Just the faintest warmth still tingling on your throat, where his breath had been.

Your chest tightened. You rushed forward, peering around the corridor, but he was gone. Just like before.

“...Sunwoo?” you called softly, your voice cracking.

Silence answered.

You pressed both hands to your lips, biting down hard to smother the sob clawing its way out. Anger surged hot beneath the grief—how dare he come back, only to rip himself away again.

This time, you swore, you would find him.

Even if he kept running.

Even if he didn’t want to be found.

Because the boy you missed—the boy who came back—was real.

And you weren’t going to let him slip away again.

***

The next day came too quickly.

By late aftenoon, you were back at the hospital. The hallways were louder now, filled with patients’ chatter and hurried footsteps, but none of it could drown out the memory of last night.

It was still there. Clinging to you like a second skin.

The way his cold cheek burned faintly under your touch.

The way his breath grazed your neck, low and dangerous, whispering words that made your knees weak.

And the way the hallway had fallen empty, leaving you reaching out for someone who was already gone.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself as you signed in at the station, but your chest still ached with the echo of his absence.

“(Y/N).” Hana, another nurse from your department, called lightly as she walked past with a clipboard.

You turned to see her approaching, her expression unusually tense. She lowered her voice the moment she reached you.

“Did you hear what happened?”

You blinked. “What?”

“The blood bank.” She leaned in closer, as though afraid someone else might overhear. “They found half the bags missing this morning.”

Your breath hitched. “...Missing?”

She nodded sharply, eyes wide. “Gone. And here’s the creepy part—CCTV didn’t catch anyone going in or out. It’s like they just disappeared.”

A cold shiver ran through you.

“No one entered?” you asked carefully.

“Not a soul.” Hana’s voice dropped further. “Security’s rattled, doctors are pissed, and they’re already questioning staff. If they don’t figure it out soon, police might get involved.”

You clutched your clipboard tighter, trying to mask the sudden racing of your heartbeat.

Half the blood bags.

No signs.

No trace.

“Anyway,” Hana sighed, shaking her head, “if anyone asks, you were just at the station doing rounds, right? Keep it simple. They’re checking every name on the schedule.”

“...Right,” you murmured.

But even as Hana walked off, her words buzzing in your ears, you couldn’t shake it.

***

The rest of your shift crawled by. Every beep of the monitors, every shuffle of footsteps, every flicker of movement in your peripheral vision made your nerves prickle.

When you finally had a moment alone, you sank into the break room chair, pressing your palms over your eyes.

You should’ve felt exhausted. Instead, irritation burned under your skin—at him, at yourself, at the silence he left behind.

Last night hadn’t been a dream.

You’d touched him, held him, felt his body tremble under your hands. Sunwoo was alive. Here. Changed, but alive.

But why disappear again?

Your mind circled back to Hana’s words, looping over and over. Half the blood bags. Gone. No trace.

Your throat tightened. It couldn’t be connected. Could it?

You reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone before you could stop yourself. His number was still saved there, the name [Sunwoo ☀️] staring up at you like some cruel joke. Your thumb hovered over the call button.

Would it even work?

Two years without a word, and now he shows up in a hospital hallway only to vanish like smoke.

Did he even keep the same number? Did he want you to find him?

Your phone screen dimmed before you could decide. With a sharp exhale, you shoved the phone back into your pocket. Pathetic. That was the word buzzing in your head. Two years without him, and you were still here. Waiting. Hoping.

The door creaked, snapping you upright.

It was only one of the interns, muttering to himself as he rifled through the cabinets for supplies. Still, your pulse skittered like you’d been caught doing something wrong.

You forced a smile, grabbed your clipboard, and slipped out into the hall again.

But even surrounded by the noise of the hospital, you couldn’t shake the feeling.

That he was still here.

That somewhere in the building, his eyes were on you.

And… you weren’t wrong.

From the far end of the corridor, where the light cut off into shadow, Sunwoo leaned against the wall, hood pulled low. His chest rose and fell too sharply, as though even standing near you pulled the breath from his lungs.

You hadn’t noticed the way his gaze tracked you, each step you took tugging something taut inside him.

Sunwoo had left last night. He told himself he wouldn’t return—that he couldn’t. What if he snapped? What if he lost control and sank his teeth where he shouldn’t?

But somehow, he was here again.

Drawn back like a moth to fire, knowing it could burn him.

Just being near you, breathing in your scent, eased the ache gnawing at him. It didn’t quench the thirst—it never could—but it dulled the sharp edge of his hunger, numbed the pain of wanting.

For now, watching you from the shadows and breathing you in was enough.

***

The next day, sunlight spilled through the glass storefront, too warm, too ordinary for the thoughts crowding your head.

It wasn’t your shift today, and if it weren’t for Mina—your closest friend from college—you would’ve stayed curled up in your apartment, replaying the other night on an endless loop.

Instead, you found yourself across from her at a corner table, the café buzzing with soft music and chatter, the scent of espresso weaving through the air.

“So?” Mina prompted, stirring her iced Americano. “You look like you haven’t slept in days. Spill.”

You hesitated, fingers tightening around your cup. Then, quietly, you said, “I saw him.”

Mina blinked. “...Who?”

“Sunwoo.” The name scraped out of you like a secret. “He came to the hospital the other night. I was alone at the station and then—he was just there. But later… he was gone again.”

Mina’s straw clinked against the glass. She leaned in, brows furrowed. “Wait. Kim Sunwoo? Your hot friend whose body went missing after that car accident two years ago?”

“I thought I was imagining it at first, but—” Your throat tightened. “He felt real. I touched him. He hugged me back. He was alive.”

Mina studied you, lips pressed tight. Then she exhaled. “(Y/N)... you know what this sounds like, right? You’re still mourning him. You never got closure, and now your brain’s playing tricks on you.”

“No,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “His skin—it was cold, but I swear, he was there. I wasn’t hallucinating.”

Mina tilted her head, smirk tugging at her lips. “Cold skin, missing for years... you sure it wasn’t a ghost?”

She laughed, but you didn’t. You just shook your head slowly and took a sip of your latte, the warmth grounding you against the chill still lingering in your memory.

Mina’s laughter faded when she saw your expression, but she didn’t press. Instead, she reached across the table, covering your hand with hers.

“You need to let him go,” she said softly.

But you couldn’t.

Because you knew what ghosts felt like. And whatever Sunwoo was... he wasn’t that.

You raised a brow. “What?”

Mina’s thumb brushed your knuckles, her smile softening into something more mischievous.

“You know what else you need?”

“A boyfriend.”

You nearly choked on your latte. “Excuse me?”

She leaned in, voice sing-song. “Someone real. Someone you can actually hold, text, kiss goodnight. Not a shadow from the past haunting your dreams.”

“Mina—”

“Listen, I already have plans this Friday. A blind date. Two guys are coming, and I can’t just show up alone like some desperate girl. Please come with me. I’ll die if I sit there third-wheeling with some random dude.”

You stared at her. “So you want me to play your wingwoman?”

“Yes. And maybe find your own happy distraction while you’re at it.” She clasped her hands together dramatically before reaching across to cup yours, eyes wide and pleading. “Please, (Y/N)? Just this once. For me?”

You dragged a hand down your face, half a groan, half a laugh. She always knew how to corner you, like a prosecutor presenting evidence you couldn’t fight.

“Fine,” you muttered.

Mina squealed, the sound turning heads at nearby tables. “I knew you’d say yes! Okay, Friday night, don’t make plans. You’re mine.”

You shook your head, forcing a small smile as you sipped your coffee.

But somewhere deep inside, the thought of sitting across from some stranger while Sunwoo’s memory still clung to your skin made your chest tighten.

***

The night air stung colder than you expected.

By the time you parted ways with Mina, your arms ached from shopping bags, your throat raw from singing too many karaoke duets. You hadn’t realized how late it had gotten—too comfortable, too careless—until you found yourself walking alone through the narrow backstreet toward your apartment.

The alley was empty. The kind of empty that made sound echo sharper than it should.

You hugged yourself against the chill, your steps quick, your mind drifting where it shouldn’t: back to the hospital. Back to him.

The faint graze of his breath against your skin. The tremor of his cold cheek under your palm when you cradled his face. The crushing grip of his arms locking you against him like he could fuse you into his chest.

It was too vivid, too real. You couldn’t convince yourself it was a dream.

And then—

You felt it.

The prickling weight of a stare crawling up your spine. The cadence of a second set of footsteps, silent but there.

You quickened your pace, your apartment close enough that you could see the faint glow of the streetlamp near your building. If you just kept moving—

But curiosity hooked sharper than fear.

You stopped. Turned.

And froze.

There he was.

Standing in the mouth of the alley, black hoodie shadowing half his face, hands shoved into his pockets like he’d been waiting for you all along.

Your heart lurched. Before you could stop yourself, you strode straight to him, fists bunching in his chest as you shoved hard.

“Why disappear like that again?!”

Sunwoo’s body barely shifted under your push, but his smirk curved sharp in the dim light. He cocked his head, eyes glinting with mischief beneath the hood.

“Because,” he drawled, “you make such a dramatic reunion every time. Don’t you think it’d be boring if I just… stayed?”

“Do you think this is a joke?” You glared at him.

His grin widened, infuriatingly boyish. “Kind of. I mean, you chasing after me like this? It’s flattering. Should I vanish more often?”

“Sunwoo.” His name came through your teeth, half warning, half plea.

He leaned down, close enough that your breath caught, his voice lowering into that playful, dangerous murmur. “Relax. I’m here, aren’t I? Warm welcome and all. Or… cold, technically.”

 “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to forget,” he shot back instantly, grin tugging higher. He straightened, hands sliding lazily out of his pockets. “You’re still so easy to rile up. Cute, really.”

“You can’t just—come and go as you please,” you snapped. “Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

His smile softened into something that almost looked real—before it twisted sly again. “Oh, I have an idea. That’s why I do it. Keeps me on your mind, doesn’t it?”

You hated how true it was.

Sunwoo stepped closer, the air around you tightening with his presence. “So, tell me,” he murmured, eyes dark, teasing, “what’ll it be this time? Do I disappear again, or do you stop me?”

Your throat tightened. He was too close now, the faint brush of his breath prickling your cheek.

“Stop you?” Your voice came out softer than you wanted. “You think this is some kind of game?”

“Isn’t it?” His eyes glinted sharp in the dark. “You chase, I run. I disappear, you ache. I show up again, and here you are—pushing at me, demanding answers. It’s fun. Addicting, even.”

“You’re—” You bit down hard on the words, your hands trembling against his chest. “You’re cruel.”

That made him laugh. “Cruel? No. Cruel would be not showing up at all. You’d hate that more, wouldn’t you?”

His grin sharpened, victorious. He dipped his head lower until his nose grazed your temple, his voice a hushed scrape against your ear.

“See? You don’t want me gone. You want me here. You always did.”

“Sunwoo…”

You tried to sound firm, but it cracked like glass in your throat.

He leaned back just enough to catch your eyes, his own dark and bright all at once. Mischief sparking, danger lurking. “Say it. Tell me you want me here. Tell me not to go.”

Your chest heaved, breath trembling. The words sat heavy on your tongue, but you couldn’t force them out. Not when he looked at you like that, like he already knew.

Sunwoo’s smirk softened into something hungrier. His cold hand slid up, fingers curling lightly around your wrist, his thumb brushing the flutter of your pulse. Heat bloomed there, sharp, warning.

“God,” he whispered, almost to himself, “you make me want to ruin every bit of restraint I have left.”

He pressed in closer, until your back skimmed the wall, his chest flush with yours. The alley was too narrow, too dark, too quiet. His voice dropped lower, a playful lilt barely covering the rawness underneath.

“So… what’s it gonna be?” His grin returned, cocky, dangerous. “Do I vanish again and drive you insane—” his thumb pressed firmer against your pulse, veins in his hand faintly glowing with heat—“or do I stay, and you risk finding out what I really am?”

“You’re not funny.”

Sunwoo only laughed, that low, breathless sound that curled down your spine like smoke. He tilted his head, lips quirking in mock innocence.

“Wait. Don’t tell me…” His grin widened. “Are you seriously thinking I was a ghost?”

Your eyes snapped to him, wide. “What—? No!”

“Oh, come on.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper as if sharing a delicious secret. “Cold skin, disappearing acts, showing up in empty hallways at night. Tell me that doesn’t sound exactly like a haunting.”

You shoved him again, but he barely moved, his grin only stretching wider as your frustration grew. His laughter shook against your palms.

“Wow. You really did. You thought I was some spirit clinging to you.”

“I did not!” you hissed, heat rushing to your face.

“You did,” he teased, sing-song, eyes glinting as he bent down until his nose nearly brushed yours. “What’s cuter than you hugging a ghost and crying about it?”

You tried to push him away again, but this time he caught your wrists in one hand, his grip gentle but firm enough to stop you. The laughter in his eyes dimmed just slightly, replaced by something sharper—still playful, but edged.

“Anyway,” he murmured, his gaze dragging down to your parted lips before settling back on your eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask…”

He let the words hang, suspense curling between you like static.

“Do you really want to go to that blind date?”

You froze.

The teasing tone was still there, but underneath it—something else. Knowing. Possessive.

Your stomach dropped.

He shouldn’t know. There was no way—

But then you remembered Mina’s voice at the café, your own reluctant sigh, the promise you’d made just to get her off your back.

You stared at him, pulse racing. “...How do you—”

“What, you think I wasn’t there? You talk too loud, you know.”

Your mouth went dry. He leaned back casually, like this was the most natural thing in the world, like following you home and overhearing your private conversations was just… fun.

“You were—” heat rising up your neck—not from embarrassment, but from fury. “You were there? You were listening?!”

“What can I say? You’re entertaining. Better than any blind date Mina could set you up with.”

Your chest tightened as realization sank in, he’d been watching, listening, close enough to catch every word.

And judging by the smug curl of his mouth, he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Blind date,” he repeated slowly, tasting the words like they were ridiculous on his tongue. He chuckled, shaking his head. “So you’re really gonna sit across from some stranger and pretend to laugh at his boring jokes? Let him walk you home? Maybe even let him hold your hand?”

“That’s—none of your business.”

“Oh, it’s definitely my business.” His grin was wicked, like he knew just how far to push before you broke. He leaned closer, voice dropping, mocking but smooth. “What kind of guy even signs up for a blind date? Desperate, right? Bet he’ll show up sweating through his shirt, talking about his crypto investments.”

You choked out a laugh despite yourself, but the way his eyes locked onto yours made it hard to breathe.

“And you.” He clicked his tongue, playful scolding. “You’d just sit there, being polite, nodding along. Maybe even smiling at him.” His voice dipped lower, brushing against something more dangerous. “Cute little smiles that don’t belong to anyone but me.”

Your chest tightened. “Sunwoo—”

He straightened, letting go of your wrists only to brush imaginary dust from your sleeve like it was an excuse to linger. His smirk turned razor sharp.

“Tell me honestly,” he drawled, “do you really think anyone else could make you laugh the way I do? Or drive you this crazy?”

You bit your lip, glaring at him, but your silence only made his smile sharpen.

The laughter in his eyes softened into something heavier. His gaze slipped—down your face, over the curve of your jaw, until it landed on your throat.

And then he stilled.

The playful energy between you shifted, thickening into something that made the air hard to breathe. His eyes lingered on the faint line of your pulse, beating fast beneath your skin.

“Don’t.” Your voice cracked, but this time it was sharp, almost a warning. “Don’t look at me like that.”

He didn’t answer. He leaned in instead, slowly, like gravity was pulling him to you. His breath brushed your neck, warm against the shiver racing through you.

For a suspended moment, you felt him hovering there, like a predator imagining the first taste. You could almost sense the scrape of fangs that hadn’t yet touched, the way he was picturing your blood spilling heat across his tongue.

Your knees weakened.

And then—he tore himself back. Too fast. Too sudden. Like it cost him everything just to stop.

“I need to go,” he whispered, voice raw, frayed at the edges.

“Wait—” you reached for him, fingertips grazing his sleeve.

But he slipped away before you could hold him, already running, his figure swallowed by the night.

Your body went rigid, breath trembling, heart aching with the echo of his absence.

But this time, you didn’t chase him.

Because deep down, you knew—he would come back to you.

***

The woods pressed in tighter the deeper he ran, until the mansion rose from the trees like a carcass of stone. To human eyes, it was abandoned. Ivy strangling its walls, windows fractured, roof half-collapsed. Haunted, forgotten.

But the moment Sunwoo pushed through the gates, the air shifted.

Inside, the halls thrummed with life—not human, but the low hum of vampires. Firelight flickered across torn velvet and polished wood, portraits with eyes that seemed to follow, staircases that creaked under the weight of immortals who had long made this place their sanctuary.

“Look who’s back,” Hyunjae drawled from the balcony, his voice laced with smug amusement. “Our flame-brained newborn.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sunwoo muttered, shrugging his hood off.

The heat in his veins hadn’t yet cooled; faint wisps of steam curled from his fingertips before he flexed them shut.

Juyeon’s figure slinked from shadow into light, casual as he shifted out of the form of a black cat mid-step. His grin was too sharp. “Careful, Sunwoo. You keep burning that hot, the whole city will notice.”

It was true.

Every vampire was born—or turned—with a special ability forged in blood. Some could bend minds, some twist dreams, some possessed powers sharp enough to kill with a thought, a touch, or a whisper.

And Sunwoo’s? Flame. Flame Vein.

His blood carried volatile heat, embers smoldering under his skin. The kind that made his touch scorch when anger spiked, the kind that warped the air around him until it shimmered like a mirage. Every slip of control brought that fire closer to the surface—through his hands, searing anything he touched, or, if he willed it, forcing it into another’s veins until they burned alive from the inside out.

A dangerous gift for a vampire who hadn’t yet mastered his thirst.

Haknyeon snorted from his spot on the sofa. “Yeah. Last week he nearly torched the curtains just because Eric wouldn’t shut up. You’re a walking fire hazard, bro.”

Changmin’s laugh was low, sharp, nothing playful in it. “Fire hazard? Try arsonist. I was there when he lost it, burned half my sofa to ash in under a minute. Didn’t even touch it, just looked at me with those veins lit up. Thought I’d be next.”

Kevin shut his book with a sigh. “Do you ever think about how predictable you are? Emotions flare, the flame follows. You’re practically begging to be studied, Sunwoo.”

“Or hunted,” Younghoon added smoothly from the corner, his tone quiet but cutting. “Dreamers like me can hide. You? One slip, and this whole mansion will burn to ashes.”

Sunwoo’s jaw flexed, heat sparking across his knuckles, but the others only smirked at the threat.

Chanhee perched elegantly on the armrest. “Still. Better than burning a whole city down, hm? These days? He’s not burning up here. He’s burning time wandering the city. Our rookie’s got himself a new hobby.”

Eric—another newborn—piped up from the corner, his voice crackling in Sunwoo’s head before his lips even moved. He’s definitely chasing his little human. Look at him.

“Shut up,” Sunwoo muttered aloud, earning a chorus of laughter.

Eric groaned dramatically. “I told you! It’s a girl. He’s obsessed. I can hear it buzzing in his head.”

“Can you shut that damn telepathy off for once?!” Sunwoo snapped at him, heat sparking through his veins. The chandelier above them rattled, light flickering like it could feel the fire simmering in his blood.

“Careful,” Jacob said gently from his chair, voice calm but edged with quiet warning. “Your control isn’t as strong as you think, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo exhaled slowly, forcing the heat in his chest to settle.

“Enough.”

The single word cut clean through the noise.

Sangyeon.

He rose from his chair at the long dining table, his presence stilling the room. Centuries of command sat in his voice, and when his gaze fell on Sunwoo, it felt heavy as chains.

“You’re reckless,” Sangyeon said evenly. “Flame Vein is volatile. Lose control, and you’ll expose us all.”

Sunwoo’s jaw tightened, but he couldn’t look away.

Sangyeon’s tone sharpened, laced with warning. “How many times must I tell you? You do not chase humans. You do not kill humans. Not anymore. That is my law. And especially here, in this city—hunters still crawl in the dark, waiting for one of us to slip.”

The room fell silent, every brother’s attention caught by the weight of Sangyeon’s words.

The heat under Sunwoo’s skin flared hotter, anger and shame warring in his chest. He wanted to protest, to say your name, to admit he couldn’t stop. But Sangyeon’s command sat like fire in his throat, burning down any excuse.

“Do not test me, Sunwoo,” Sangyeon said, quieter now but more dangerous. “I turned you from death because I believed you were worth saving. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Sunwoo’s jaw locked. He forced his heat back under his skin, masking it in silence.

He could bow to Sangyeon, repay the life he’d been given. Gratitude chained him to Sangyeon’s will, yet his hunger chained him to you. A hunger hotter than flame, sharper than thirst.

And deep down, he knew—no law, no oath, not even Sangyeon’s command would stop him that one day, he’d taste you.

***

To Be Continued...

[ 10:56 pm ] “sunwoo, i’m ready.” your touch was soft against his, eyes filled with nothing but compassion and desire. the night had come, you wanted this. you wanted to be with him, the one you loved. forever.

your arms wrapped around his neck while his own wrapped around your waist. both of you couldn’t keep away from each other, the want and need for each other was reeling the both of you in. almost as if there was nothing else in the world that could make the both of you happier. “ready?” he asked, as if he was unsure. you nodded, “i want it.” your words only made him chuckle. “y/n.. you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” he looked away for a brief second before turning back to you, his tongue swiping over his thick lips in habit. “once i turn you.. you cant go back. you’ll be stuck like this, like a monster.” his voice cracked as a hurtful tone shadowed behind his collected expression.

you could feel the pain as if the both of you were one. before you knew it, your hand reached up to caress his cheek. his cold and pale skin contrasted against your warm one.

looking him in the eyes, you wanted to let him know that you would do anything if it meant getting to be with him like this for longer than what your human life could offer. “never have i ever thought of you as a monster,”