Chapter Text
Everything was ruined. The world he’d built was burning to the ground, scorched and irredeemable. Jeongguk separated himself from Ai Hua’s tight embrace and brushed a rough hand down his face. He’d fallen asleep in her arms. The safe aura she gave off had been far too tempting to ignore, and he’d fallen into it like a moth to a flame. It pissed him off greatly. He turned to face her, staring down at her sleeping form—watching as her lashes fanned across her cheeks, her hair hiding half her face.
Mystery girl, indeed. “I know you aren’t sleeping, Ai Hua.” A slight smile tilted her lips before she opened her eyes to look at him. The warmth he found there was too much to bear. He looked away, avoiding her gaze. “Are you feeling better?” She sat up from where she’d been resting against the wall of the crypt. Jeongguk remained silent.
Ai Hua inched closer to him and grazed her fingers along his knuckles. He flinched slightly, pulling away from her. She didn’t take offense, instead shifting back and giving him space. Jeongguk’s mind was spiraling. His mother’s death had been true—just not in the way he’d imagined.
He squeezed his eyes shut, the memory of his father’s face as he raised a hand to kill him flashing behind his eyelids. Jeongguk gasped sharply, forcing Ai Hua to look at him in concern. “Guk?” Her eyes followed him as he stood abruptly, searching for space. “G–give me a minute.” He pleaded with her, his voice faltering as he fought back unshed tears. She nodded immediately.
Jeongguk turned and made his way toward the crypt entrance. He let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he finally made it outside. Slumping heavily against the wall, the tears finally spilled over. His chase for revenge fell apart, replaced by a guilt that began to eat him alive. His chance at a father had been ripped away by his own hands—three times over.
Jungwon.
Liam.
Yoongi.
And a mother.
All a failed dream. Ai Hua was all he had left. The realization made him freeze. Ai Hua was all he had left. But Hwiseong wanted to take her away. He couldn’t let that happen. A shadow passed over him, forcing him to look up. Ai Hua stood in front of him. The pity he expected was nowhere to be found—only understanding. She reached forward slowly, giving him time to pull away, and wiped his tears with a gentle thumb.
“It’s okay.” She tilted her head. “You have me now.” She smiled and held out her hand. “I’ll protect you.” The statement made him huff out a small laugh as he took her hand. “I think I can protect myself just fine.” Ai Hua nodded and pulled him to his feet. “Hwiseong is expecting me to bring you in.”
At that moment, his pager buzzed with a message from Hwiseong. “What are you planning to do then?” She released his hand, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. Jeongguk thought the color was a beautiful contrast against her pale skin. The thought made him look away, embarrassed.
“I don’t have plans to kill or take you in, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He scratched the back of his head and glanced down at his pager, an idea forming behind his eyes. He winced and looked back at Ai Hua, guilt flickering across his face. “How do you suppose I get free from them?” Ai Hua met his stare and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” She looked down at her feet. “You’ll have to make some tough decisions as you try. It won’t be easy.”
Jeongguk continued to watch her. She looked so fragile—a soft, innocent beauty hiding a predator. A predator he’d been planning to kill just yesterday. He glanced down at his hands, coated in the blood of victims he’d taken without remorse. Ai Hua would have been just another vampire killed in his pursuit of dark satisfaction. He would’ve done it.
A perfect opportunity had presented itself when she ran to him, bleeding out against the grass. He’d stood over her, pressed his fingers around her throat, and squeezed. The idea was laughable—no one could kill a vampire by strangling them. And yet, Ai Hua had been so weak from the animal blood she’d consumed that she might have died. Like a sad, fragile human. But he couldn’t bring himself to deal the killing blow.
Something colder—something selfish—had replaced the anger and hate. Ai Hua waved a hand in front of his face, pulling him back to the present. Jeongguk dragged a sharp fang against his bottom lip. “Yeah. Hard choices.” His eyes followed her as she turned to walk away, searching for her next meal. “Definitely tough.” Jeongguk stared out into the trees, a blank haze settling over his eyes. He had to get away from the Black Accord. But he needed Ai Hua to do it. And betrayal was never easy.
*
Ai Hua came back, injury-free—much to his relief. Jeongguk had been gnawing at his lip in nervousness as he continued sorting through his plan. “Jeongguk?” She poked his cheek. “You still have fangs, you know.” She let out an airy giggle. “Ease up on that lip, yeah?” Jeongguk obeyed, freeing his lip from the repetitive torture. He cleared his throat and turned away to avoid her curious gaze. “Um… there’s a safe house nearby we can go to. Just to lay low for a while.”
Ai Hua lit up, shooting him a bright grin. “Let’s go, then.” He watched as she disappeared into the crypt. A hollow ache settled in his chest, but this had to happen if he wanted to be completely free. Ai Hua returned a moment later with his remaining gear. Soon, they were walking along the paths between the trees. They could’ve flashed there, but he wanted her to stay happy—just a little while longer.
Ai Hua followed behind him, her trust in him blinding. She talked his ear off the entire time, telling him stories of his mother’s younger days. Jeongguk fought a grin. “Your mother loved learning so much. I always called her a 书呆子—a bookworm, in your language.” Ai Hua laughed brightly. “Hyejin loved debate class. She could argue anyone down. It was always fun to watch.”
A sad smile touched his lips, tugging at something unfamiliar in his chest. Silence fell between them, easy and warm. Jeongguk was afraid that if he spoke, he’d tell her everything. Ai Hua had that effect—she made him feel like he could trust her. The woods began to thin. “Guk… are you sure this is the way to the safe house?” she asked, apprehension leaking into her voice. “Something is clogging my senses.” Jeongguk said nothing. He wrapped a hand around her bicep. “It’s fine, Ai Hua.”
He forced her forward through the last line of trees. Right in front of the Black Accord building. She struggled against him as he walked closer to the security gate. “Page Hwiseong and tell him I need to meet him outside. It’s urgent.” Jeongguk kept his focus on the guards as they sent the page, avoiding Ai Hua’s tear-filled gaze. She thrashed harder, trying to break his grip. “Ai Hua, relax. With that animal blood in your system, you can’t escape me.”
She aimed a sharp kick at his shin, forcing a pained groan from his lips. Jeongguk tightened his hold and forced himself to meet her eyes. Ai Hua looked wrecked—blood tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re a liar.” She punched him in the stomach. “A liar!” she cried, her strength finally giving out as she slumped against him, sobbing harder. Movement near the doors pulled his attention away. Hwiseong stepped forward, a satisfied glint in his eyes as he looked Ai Hua over.
“My Ai Hua!” Ai Hua tensed in Jeongguk’s grip and spat at his feet. “可怜虫.” Hwiseong’s eyes darkened at the insult before shifting to Jeongguk. “Jeon. What’s the issue?” Jeongguk studied him carefully as he stepped just beyond the safety of the gate. “Why couldn’t we handle this inside?” Jeongguk shrugged lightly. “Have some issues to sort out with you first.” He tried to sound casual, though fear clawed up his throat.
He glanced down at his trembling hand and forced it still. Ai Hua remained rigid beside him, staring at him in silent accusation, her pain locked away behind tear-filled eyes. Hwiseong watched him carefully. “What is it?” Jeongguk took a steadying breath. “I want to make a trade.” He lifted his gaze in defiance and stepped back, dragging Ai Hua with him. “Ai Hua for my freedom—and my file.” Hwiseong laughed, condescending and amused. “That’s gold, Jeongguk. Truly.” He wiped at the corner of his eye and stepped forward. “Hand her over.”
Jeongguk smirked. His hand went to his weapons belt, pulling his blade free. He pressed the sharp edge to Ai Hua’s throat. “I don’t think you’re hearing me.” She gasped but didn’t move. He pressed the blade harder, taunting Hwiseong with a smile. “I want my freedom and my file. Or pretty little Ai Hua here dies.”
Hwiseong’s smile fell instantly. “Jeongguk… let’s talk about this like civilized adults.” Jeongguk’s jaw tightened at the subtle jab. “I swear I’ll kill her right here and you’ll have nothing.” Pride flared in his chest as Hwiseong began to seethe. “Calling all assassins to the entrance gate. We have a code red.” Jeongguk scoffed. Coward. Always sending others to do his dirty work. The assassins poured out quickly, weapons drawn. Jeongguk met Jimin and Taehyung’s confused gazes as they realized it was him.
“Make your choice. If one of your lap dogs even twitches, I’ll slit her throat and her final death will happen.” Hwiseong held out a hand to stop them, a sliver of fear now visible. “I’ll kill you if you hurt her.” Jeongguk laughed, low and unhinged. “Then we’ll die together. Wouldn’t that be nice, Ai Hua?” He tapped her cheek with the blade.
“I’ll take her with me, and you’ll lose two pets to control. Sounds like a win.” He watched Liam and Yoongi lower their hands from their weapons. He knew they wouldn’t hurt him—not even for Hwiseong. “Then I’ll tell your secret,” Hwiseong said, his grin turning vicious. “So what.” Jeongguk exhaled. He was tired. So tired. “I’m a dhampir. Half vampire, half human. A 반인반수.” He spoke without emotion, inching the dagger closer to Ai Hua’s jugular. “Now. Our trade.” Xi Yu’s hand lifted, magic gathering—but Hwiseong stopped him.
“Yoongi,” he said through clenched teeth. “Get Jeongguk’s file. And a go-bag.” Relief flooded Jeongguk’s chest. Yoongi hesitated, then disappeared inside. He returned moments later, handing everything to Hwiseong. Hwiseong stuffed the file into the bag and threw it. It landed a few feet in front of Jeongguk. “Ai Hua. Pick that up. Make it quick, or daddy dearest will make a fuss.”
She shoved away from him and walked forward, grabbing the bag. “I have a clear shot, boss. Let me take it.” Jeongguk glanced at Xi Yu and smirked as Hwiseong stopped him again. Ai Hua returned and shoved the bag into Jeongguk’s chest. “Perfect.” Jeongguk walked them backward toward the trees. “I gave you what you wanted,” Hwiseong called. “Now let her go, Jeon.”Jeongguk released her. Hwiseong beckoned Ai Hua forward, but she didn’t move. “Please.” She mouthed the word at Jeongguk—silent, desperate.
It tugged at something cold inside him. Hwiseong stepped forward, reaching for her. Jeongguk inhaled sharply. Opportunity. He lifted his dagger and hurled it. A grin lit up his face as the blade embedded into Hwiseong’s shoulder. He collapsed with a shout of pain.
Jeongguk ignored the urge to take delight in his handiwork and grabbed Ai Hua’s hand. He turned and ran, pulling her along behind him. Jeongguk smiled as an angry shout sounded off behind him. They flashed through the trees until the world blurred, Jeongguk’s grip tightening on her wrist.
“Go as far as you can,” he told her, voice low and urgent. “You’re faster than me—use what’s left. Just get us somewhere safe.” Ai Hua responded with a reluctant nod, leading them deeper into the woods. She came to a stop in a steep clearing, hidden by miles of trees.
She let his hand go quickly and bent over with a grimace. “Are you okay?” Jeongguk watched as she doubled over and threw up. “Ai Hua, that animal blood isn’t good for you.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah? And you know what’s good for me?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I see an abandoned cabin nearby.” Jeongguk let out a harsh breath. Her tone was cold and detached. He reached out for her hand, but she turned and pulled away.
“Let’s go.” She walked ahead, not waiting for him to follow. The cabin was only a short walk away, and yet it felt like an eternity. “We have to find some food and supplies.” Ai Hua scoffed. “Oh, is our little ‘partnership’ considered a ‘we’ now?” She turned to face him, heavy sarcasm lacing her tone.
“How come I didn’t know that?” She glared at him, clearly expecting an answer. He hadn’t known she could have so much attitude. It irked him. “If you had known my plan, you would’ve given it away.” He watched her jaw clench, her fangs pressing against her lip. “From where I stood—against your dagger, by the way—you were thinking about leaving me there.”
She jabbed a finger into his chest, shoving him back a step. “Ai Hua—” He stopped himself, realizing how exposed they were. “Go inside.” Ai Hua went still. “Don’t order me around, you bastard.” Jeongguk rolled his eyes and gestured to their surroundings. “Please go inside, Ai Hua. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
She ignored him and flashed to the door, leaving him behind. Jeongguk stayed rooted to his spot. He knew it was wrong—but she didn’t understand how desperate he was to be free of the Accord. He wanted out. And he needed her to do it. Jeongguk needed a peace offering. He turned on his heel, activating his dhampir senses. He flashed forward, listening for any human presence nearby. After a moment, he picked up on two voices—a male and a female—walking along a forest path.
The female looked terrified, trying to pry the male’s hand off her wrist. “Come on, Naeun. Let’s just have a little fun.” Jeongguk swallowed bile. It was a reflection of how he had treated Ai Hua just moments ago. “Jiyoon, it’s scary here. Just take me back home.” The boy laughed and caged her against a tree.
She protested, shoving at his chest. “Jiyoon, stop.” The girl struggled as his hands trailed down her body. Jeongguk couldn’t watch anymore. He let out a low whistle, startling them. “What was that?” They both looked toward the sound, unaware of where he stood. “Jiyoon, go check it out,” the girl urged, desperate to get away from him. Jeongguk smirked, waiting for the boy to approach.
As Jiyoon got close enough, Jeongguk stepped out, clamped a hand over his mouth, and yanked him into the shadows. “Say you’re fine, or we’ll have a problem, kid.” Jiyoon’s eyes widened. He nodded frantically. Jeongguk slowly removed his hand. “N-naeun, go on without me. I found something.”
Naeun didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran, disappearing down the path. “Looks like she wasn’t interested,” Jeongguk muttered. He released the boy and pulled out his dagger, pressing the flat of the blade against his throat. “If you ever touch someone against their will again, you’ll answer to me. I’ll find you myself. Got it?”
The boy nodded rapidly, trembling. “Good. Now get going.” Jiyoon bolted, sprinting in the opposite direction. Jeongguk watched him go, a strange feeling settling in his chest. Any other time, he would’ve ignored it… or handled it very differently. But this time, he didn’t. “…Weird,” he muttered. “Ai Hua, do you want to come with me to get food and supplies?” he called as he walked back toward the cabin, knowing she’d hear him.
“Do I have a choice this time?” Jeongguk’s jaw ticked. “Yes.” There was a rustle inside, then silence. “…No. But I’ll still be here… if you come back.” Jeongguk swallowed, then nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “I’ll be back, Ai Hua. It’s a promise.”
He turned and walked through the trees, letting his senses guide him until he reached the edge of a small clearing. A convenience store sat just beyond it. Jeongguk stepped inside and met the gaze of the employee behind the counter. “Nearest hospital?” The employee looked him over lazily. “I don’t see any injuries.” Jeongguk let out a low laugh and leveled him with a sharp glare.
“Yeah? And you’ll have a few if you don’t tell me where it is.” The employee scrambled to his feet, straightening his uniform. “Sorry, sir. Nearest hospital’s about three miles west—just keep going straight. You can’t miss it.”
Jeongguk gave a curt nod and moved down the aisles, grabbing what they needed—water, packaged food, basic supplies. He set everything on the counter. “Just these, sir?” the employee asked, voice tight. “Yep.” Jeongguk took the bag, dropped a few bills on the counter, and walked out without another word. “Enjoy, sir,” the employee called after him, voice wavering.
Jeongguk snorted quietly as he disappeared in the direction of the hospital, snacking on a few of the items in his bag. As he walked, all he could think about was Ai Hua’s tearful face. Watching her look at him with sadness—a feeling he himself caused—didn’t sit well with him. He needed to make it right. Why did he feel like this?
She was only a pretty girl, yet she was the only thing remotely close to his mother. That was the only reason…right? Jeongguk shook his head, clearing the thoughts. He was only acting like this because they were stuck in the same situation. That’s it. By the time his mind settled, he’d come upon the hospital. Jeongguk paused. “How am I supposed to get inside?” A smirk tilted his lips.
He avoided the front entrance and instead made his way to the side of the building. He waited a few seconds, listening for any personnel nearby. Hearing none, he reached toward his belt and pulled out his lock-picking tools. He sucked in a breath and worked the lock with quiet precision.
A soft click. He huffed out a laugh and tugged the door open, quickly scanning the space. It opened into what looked like a boiler room. Jeongguk inhaled deeply, searching for the familiar cold metallic scent. There.
He moved quietly up the stairs, head down, steps light. A white coat hung over the back of a chair—he grabbed it and tugged it on as he passed. He followed the scent like a guide, letting it pull him through the corridors until he stopped in front of a door. He opened it—and let out a quiet breath of relief. Blood storage.
He grabbed a duffel bag and packed in as many blood bags as he could fit. He pulled one out, sliced it open with his claw, and gulped it down quickly. The taste made his nose wrinkle in disgust, but he needed it—needed the strength. Then voices. Jeongguk froze. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes darting around the room. Footsteps were getting closer. His gaze landed on a window.
Without hesitation, he jumped, bracing his knees for the impact as he landed outside. He tossed the empty bag into the nearest trash bin and flashed as far as he could, putting distance between himself and the building. His focus locked onto one thing and one thing only: Getting back to Ai Hua.
Jeongguk made his way back to the cabin with a slight pep in his step. He’d managed to get enough blood bags from the hospital to last her at least two weeks. The forest was dense, barely navigable without his senses to guide him. “Ai Hua, come here for a second,” he called out. The cabin was camouflaged far too well among the trees. His senses had dulled after going too long without food, leaving him momentarily disoriented.
Ai Hua didn’t speak when she emerged from the trees, but she moved ahead of him, silently guiding him back. When they were safely inside, Jeongguk glanced around to inspect the place. The cabin was small but neat. The front room was split between a kitchen and a living area, the furniture new and barely worn—too well kept to truly be abandoned. “Are you sure no one lives here?” he asked, looking at her. “It looks lived in.”
Ai Hua plopped down on the sofa and gave a small shrug. “I searched everything. A few miles out too. Checked for cameras, security systems—nothing.” Jeongguk set the bags down on the corner of the table. Ai Hua immediately hopped up and began rummaging through them. “I got you human blood,” he said. “And before you say anything—it’s from the hospital. Their blood bank.” Ai Hua paused and shot him an unreadable glance.
“It’s clean?” she asked quietly. “You got this for me?” Jeongguk nodded. She bit her lip, thinking, before clearing her throat and pulling one of the packs out. “Thanks,” she muttered, heading into the kitchen to search for a cup. “It’s my peace offering,” he added, watching as she poured it out and drank with quiet eagerness. “I told you that animal blood was making you sick.” Ai Hua leaned against the counter and let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I had any other option, did I?”
Jeongguk stared at her, then scoffed. “You could’ve just killed for a meal like everyone else.” The cup hit the counter with a sharp clack as Ai Hua turned on him, eyes wide with disbelief. “You of all people shouldn’t talk to me about killing.” She threw her hands up. “We can’t all be like Jeongguk and kill just because our lives were fucked up.” Jeongguk’s gaze darkened.
“My life is still a wreck, and you know exactly why. I won’t pretend what I did wasn’t messed up, but I had a rea—” She cut him off with a harsh laugh. “Jungwon was an excellent father to you, and you killed him. For what? Some half-truth you could’ve just asked him about?” Jeongguk fell silent. Ai Hua’s eyes widened as her own words sank in. “I— I didn’t mean—”
“…I feel that guilt every day,” he said quietly. “It haunts my dreams. My life. Everything.” His voice broke. “I know I made a mistake. I don’t know how to fix it. But I needed to get out while I had the chance.” She reached a hand toward him—then stopped herself.
“Well, you made a stupid choice. I was the one who was betrayed. You don’t get my sympathy.” Her words were harsh and cutting. Jeongguk let out a defeated sigh. “I’m trying to change, Ai Hua—” She cut him off again, raising her hand. “I know. I saw you out there.” She gestured toward the door, stepping closer.
“So what do you want me to do?” Jeongguk stepped into her space and tilted her chin up with his finger. “You can leave,” he said. “You’re free to go. I saved your life as well as my own. What more could you want from me, Ai Hua?” She pushed his hand away, silent. “I don’t want your forgiveness,” he added.
“I know I don’t deserve it.” She let out a short, sarcastic laugh, but he ignored it. “Let’s just be allies. Okay?” He held her gaze. Her eyes burned with anger—words clearly waiting on her tongue. “Are you going to pull another stunt like that?” she asked. “No. I promise you, Ai Hua.” She stared at him coldly. “You also promised you wouldn’t take me back to him.” Jeongguk’s shoulders dropped.
“I would’ve taken you with me. I never would’ve left you there. I need you, Ai Hua.” Her breathing hitched at that. She pressed her lips together, then walked back to grab her cup of blood. “Okay then.” She shot him a smirk. “Let’s be allies, Jeon Jeongguk.” He smiled in return. “I think we may have started a war.” His smile widened as she let out a quiet laugh. “No—you started a war. But it’s fine. I’ll join you.” She held out her hand. He took it. “Let’s start a war, Lui Ai Hua.”