TAEHYUNG
The room is hot.
Or it could just be me.
I open my eyes. I'm lying, half-upright, with my back against the headboard of a bed. The sheets loosely cover up to my waist. A sweet fragrance coats the air. It leads my eyes to look elsewhere. And it arouses something within me that I should never let aroused.
And I see a silhouette of a shadow, standing a little distance away.
I look.
And I jerk my entire body away, head turning so fast into the other direction that for a second, I think I might've just fractured my own spine. Heat pools from the depths of my chest to the tips of my fingers, clawing down my legs and twisting me apart.
Mistress.
She's naked. All of her. Standing right there.
I can't even speak. Can't even move, feeling frozen to the cold sheets as I sense her come closer. Every part of me stands on edge. I hear her footsteps, silent against the carpet. I feel her heat, coming closer. Her scent, stronger.
A part of me tells me that something's wrong. It shakes me, screaming that this isn't right.
Because why would Mistress be here? Why would she be unclothed? Why—
But it doesn't matter.
The heat deepens.
And none of it matters, the moment I feel the bed slightly dip and feel the warmth of her hand on my shoulder. All she does is touch me, just like that.
And I turn to the Beast that I am.
Desire swallows me alive the moment I see the tips of her fingers, delicate and pale as the freshly fallen snow. Her sable locks fall apart like the most tender things in the world between my feral grip.
I am a monster.
It is who I am.
I overtake her like a storm.
She is soft and unscarred, before my hands and fangs run over every single inch of her. My strength crushes her against the headboard of the bed. Her legs wrap around my waist, and my lips are on and between the lush curves of her breasts. I feign control when there is none.
Heat. It takes me and shreds my conscience.
I kiss her parted lips and run my tongue down her jaw to her throat. My mouth closes around her left nipple, sucking it— tasting it as my hands caress the lines of her inner thighs. The flesh is softer than silk.
I push. Her legs fall open.
At that point, I am nothing but the Beast.
I satisfy myself with the body of my Mistress.
I don't know how much time passes before I feel a wet sensation, and a metallic tang on my throat and tongue. Something is pooled, thick and dark.
I open my eyes.
The candle has dimmed.
And all I see is blood.
Crimson.
My Mistress is covered with it. Blood paints her like art, from her cheeks to the tips of her toes. It soaks the sheets and colors it scarlet. Her throat is in pieces.
And her eyes are lifeless.
I burst awake with my eyes wide open.
Breaths run ragged through my throat. The room is dark, but the silhouettes of the furniture and the outline of the door is barely lit by the moonlight sheathed by the curtains. The candle has long been extinguished, a vine of wax frozen around its edges.
A dream.
My heart thunders inside of my chest. Mistress' lifeless eyes are ever so clear. They're burned into my memory. The blood staining her skin.
My God.
What have I done?
My gaze drops, slowly. Sweat pools around me, soaking the sheets and the mattress below. It mats my dark hair and colors my crimson eyes wet.
My tongue is dry. But when I run it over my fangs, they are sharpened and drawn out to their fullest length. Arousal. When I had been tearing my Mistress apart, satisfying myself like a starved animal and shearing into her purity. Because the way she had pleasured me in reality wasn't enough.
My breaths refuse to calm.
I'd forgotten the monster that I was.
The fucking monster that I was.
My gaze drops, even lower.
I had forgotten.
______________________________
SILIN
I haven't seen my Taraka for the entire day.
My brows furrow as I sign the bottom line of a paper and shift it over to add to the massive stockpile of today's workload on the corner of my desk. My pen never rests— it moves and works, set on autopilot.
The inside of the office is silent, except for the clock ticking in the midst of it all. My eyes flicker.
Three in the afternoon.
Taehyung should've been here much earlier.
My frown deepens as I skim my exhausted eyes through the lines of another contract. And I'm in the middle of making the thousandth signature on it when a knock sounds against the door.
My eyes fly upwards.
"Tae—"
"Your Majesty."
My breath instantly dies down in the back of my throat as a maid shuffles in, bowing into a deep curtsy. She laughs nervously, her voice hitched up a note. Something's off.
"There is someone here to see you, my lady."
She moves to the side, her hands knitted tightly behind her back. Her eyes whip back and forth.
A silhouette enters the door. And I instantly recognize the sharp silver gaze, that scans the entire room left and right with the first step that he takes. The aura swaths the air.
My lips tighten.
"Sage."
"Your Majesty." He murmurs, his lips curling upwards as soon as he notices the hardness in my eyes. We hadn't exactly ended on a good note the last time we'd been acquainted with each other.
I tilt my head, voice not kind. "Aren't you leaving your place for too long? It feels as if you've taken time to stay here in Asura."
I hate everything about this young Sage.
But I do like his cutthroat attitude. He gets straight to the point and doesn't waste anyone's time.
"This will be my last day." He murmurs.
"Give me Kim Taehyung."
My lips hitch.
I knew it.
"And why should I? He is someone very precious to me." I hiss, my voice lined with venom. "He is a Taraka. He will be in danger in your city, Sage. You say this knowing how much the people there hate him and his Clan?"
His silver eyes flicker. And I see a bit of anger there, a break in the cool, calm ocean. Before it dissipates like there was nothing ever there.
"I have information that you might find valuable."
"More valuable over my Tarakan? I don't think so."
His eyes glitter.
The clock strikes midnight.
"What if I say," He says, his voice sweet. "That it may just be what you need to dethrone the one you so despise— and that woman of his?"
I freeze.
What?
"I do not lie, Queen." He continues, knowing that he has hit a spot. "I am Sage. How can I? I have something that may just help you achieve the vengeance you seek."
His silver eyes glow. He knows.
"For such a long, long time, hm?"
How.
I laugh sharply.
"Why him?" I push. "Why Taehyung? You know much more than you should, Sage. There is something I'm missing, is there? Why is he so important to you?"
And I see it again.
The break.
And I know that Taehyung is so, so much more valuable to him than anything else. For some reason that I couldn't even begin to try and grasp. It was no simple love or obsession. Something deeper.
And like the cruel villain I am, I see more sides to my Tarakan. The sides of him, that I can use as an asset.
My eyes close.
Like the villain I am. The calculating monster I am, to use such an innocent soul and fold him under the palm of my hand.
I could control the Sage.
And my eyes open, again.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"But I'm afraid there is absolutely nothing you can do to take my Tarakan away from me, Jeon Jungkook."