Kim Taehyung has been wandering aimlessly for decades, waiting for the day when the last bit of his humanity leaves him, and the monster inside him takes permanent control. He doesn't believe in fated mates, or the myth that there's a soul out there...
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Fear. Worry. Guilt.
When Jungkook opened his eyes again, he found himself staring at a ceiling that was different from the one in the warehouse. Slowly, everything came into focus and he found himself in his bed—he could smell the familiar scent of his detergent, as well as hints of himself and Taehyung— and not on a hard cemented floor.
Jungkook felt...different.
How had he gotten here?
He tried to remember and all he saw was pain. First the sharp pain of traumatic wounds from the crash. Right, he'd been in a car crash. But that earlier pain was overshadowed by the last moments he remembered, after Seokjin had pounced.
"Jungkook." Taehyung's voice, husky and strained, broke through Jungkook's remembrances.
Taehyung was here.
Jungkook sat up quicker than he should have been able to, turning to look to the side. Taehyung had a chair pulled up to the edge of the bed and was leaning forward, hands clasped tightly together on his knees.
Looking at his vampire, Jungkook realized he had never seen Taehyung look truly miserable before. The vampire's normally pristine suit was wrinkled and covered in dirt and other sketchy bits that looked suspiciously like dried blood. His straight dark hair was mussed, and his blue eyes were rimmed in red.
Had Jungkook's vampire been crying?
"Hey," Jungkook greeted a little lamely. He'd expected his voice to come out as a croak, but he didn't sound even the slightest bit hoarse. Jungkook sounded...refreshed. Which was odd. His whole body should have been one big ache. He should have been in the hospital, especially after Seokjin had...had...
Seokjin had bitten him.
Jungkook lifted a hand to his throat, pressing his fingers along the side, but he couldn't feel anything unusual there—no gaping wound, no tender, bruised skin.
"Where is he?" Jungkook asked.
"He's...caught. You're safe." Taehyung didn't have to ask who Jungkook meant by "he."
Jungkook eyed Taehyung, trying to see any obvious injuries, resisting the urge to leap out of bed and into his lover's arms. Taehyung sounded worried. He looked worried. He felt worried. The demon inside him was restless, concerned about his mate—concerned about Jungkook.
Wait.
Jungkook really could feel Taehyung's worry. Like actually feel it.
He closed his eyes and focused on the strange sensation, a part of Jungkook but also not. Worry. Anger. And love. So much love for Jungkook that it was overwhelming in its intensity.
