Dead Mate || K.TH

Thirst

"Was not aware I will get hit even when I'm older, let alone for a human." Jimin muses from the side, slitted eyes following the elder brother with his back to the wall, hands crossed over his broad chest.

Jin snap his sharp eyes to the youngest, an eyebrow twitching at the audacity of the smirk on Jimin's face. "Shut it. You know you deserved it."

"Do I? Even back then, huh?" Jimin challenges, his own playful gaze turning dark as the flashes of memories fload his mind.

Jin looks away from him, not bothering to reply to the young vampire. He instead turn to Namjoon, leveling him with a look. Jimin rolls his eyes at that.

"What can you do?" Namjoon questions, a brow raising when Jin answers.

"Depends. If you want her dead than she is dead."

Namjoon nods, before a wicked smile lit up his face. "I want the brat in her alive. Do anything to assure that."

Hoseok who have been standing against the study room door and listening speaks up his curiosity. "And how would you do that?" His inquiry is directed towards Jin.

"I guess a bit of black magic won't do any bad." The oldest reply, taking a seat on the single sofa. He leans back, resting his figure against the softness.

As if there was not a body dying currently in a room just a few doors away. As if there was not two lives in line.

Hoseok almost want to laughs at the playfulness of his big brother. "You know exactly what it would do to her." He calls him out, watching the sadist spread over the oldest's face.

The black magic he talks about is deadly. It would kill her and the child no doubt. And if she manages to survive from it, which is rare seeing how fragile she is from the inside and out, then she would no longer be as human as she is now. A darkness would surround her heart, trap her in the corner and there would start her real misery. She will go crazy in a matter of few days.

It is the opposite of the black magic her dead mate read over her before they found her. That one protected her but this one will be her doom.

Jin lets out long breath, his body relaxing. "Who cares." He mumbles, closing his eyes.

--

Shaky hand bathed in her own blood rests on the wall, her body balancing itself onto it to prevent her fall. Her other hand is over the two holes engraved deep in her neck.

At least they were nice enough to patch up her wounds, stopping her from bleeding further. But she is drowned in her own blood, the whole expense of her neck and the collar line of the knee length frock. There are also a few drops of blood that have dried over her cheeks

She gives it no mind that she reeks of blood and that she can entice them into drinking from her again. All she needs right now is a drop of water. Her throat are burning and it feels like her neck will burst from the pain.

She manages to walk into the living room and is relieved to find it empty. A few more steps in and she is surprised to hear their voices.

They are usually quite, talking very less and even if they do, they keep it short and simple. She have seen them that one time when they were communicating with each other through their minds.

The house is so quite that she can hear their voice clearly. They are coming from the kitchen, no doubt from the dinning area. The clinking of spoons against the plates gives it away.

She feels her stomach rumble, the idea of food torturing her from within. Her hand comes up to rest on the little bump there and a sigh leaves her when she feels the heart beat of her child.