CHAPTER 15
Muwon's gaze softened just a fraction before he sighed.
"This is the last time I'll tolerate such a trick."
Then, turning on his heel, he walked away.
Yuhyun released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
he hissed at Sihyun.
Sihyun chuckled, stretching his arms above his head.
"Oh, please. If he was going to kill me, he would've done it already."
But as he watched Muwon's retreating figure, something unsettled twisted in his chest.
For the first time, he wondered if the prince's patience with him wasn't just tolerance—but something else entirely.
The ritual had ended, leaving Sihyun exhausted, yet restless. His body ached from the energy drained into Muwon's cursed mark, but something else gnawed at him—a whisper, a pull, a presence beyond the palace walls. He had ignored it before, but tonight, it was stronger.
Lying in his chambers, staring at the ceiling, he could hear it again. The whispers. Faint, yet undeniable. His heartbeat quickened. He sat up, glancing at Yuhyun's sleeping form. If he left now, he had to be careful.
Slowly, Sihyun pushed off the sheets, feet landing silently on the cold floor. He slipped into his outer robe and crept toward the window. The guards patrolled the halls—escaping through the doors was too risky. Instead, he exhaled softly and climbed over the ledge, landing smoothly on the grass below.
The night air was crisp, and the moon hung high, bathing everything in silver light. He moved quickly, slipping past the palace walls and into the forest beyond. The whispers grew louder. His instincts screamed at him to turn back, but something else, something deeper, urged him forward.
Then, in the darkness of the trees, a figure stood waiting.
Tall, composed, as if he had expected this moment all along. His black robes blended into the night, but the faint glow of his red tattoos shimmered beneath his sleeves. When he stepped forward, his golden eyes caught the moonlight, gleaming like a predator that had finally found its prey.
"You're late,"
Ryu Vanyul murmured, voice smooth, almost amused.
Sihyun tensed, staring at the man before him. There was something hauntingly familiar about him, yet his mind grasped at nothing. His heart pounded—not in fear, but in an unsettling sense of déjà vu.
"Who are you?"
he asked, voice firm despite the uncertainty within him.
Vanyul tilted his head, a slow smirk curving his lips.
"Oh, Sihyun… you've forgotten me, haven't you?"
Sihyun's breath hitched. The way Vanyul said his name—it sent a shiver down his spine.
"What do you mean?"
Vanyul chuckled, stepping closer.
"You don't remember, but your soul does."
He tapped a finger against Sihyun's chest, right over his heart.
"You can feel it, can't you? That pull. That lingering connection you don't understand."
Sihyun swallowed, unable to deny it.
"What do you want from me?"
"Want?"
Vanyul hummed as if considering his answer.
"I only want what was already meant to be."
His fingers brushed against Sihyun's wrist, right where the sorcerer's chain bound him. Sihyun instinctively pulled back, but Vanyul didn't push. Instead, he smiled, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"I won't take off that chain. Not yet,"
he murmured.
"Not until you're ready to take it off yourself."
A chill ran through Sihyun, not from fear, but from the weight of those words. He didn't know who this man truly was, but he did know one thing—this was only the beginning.
And somehow, he was already caught in Vanyul's web.
Sihyun stood frozen, his breath shallow as he watched the faint red glow fade from Vanyul's fingertips. His mind reeled, heart hammering in his chest. The energy—raw, untamed—felt eerily familiar. It was the same as his own.
A lump formed in his throat.
"You're a…"
Vanyul tilted his head, an amused smirk curling his lips.
"Go on,"
he urged, voice smooth like silk.
Sihyun swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper.
"A Demon Sorcerer."
Vanyul chuckled softly, the sound rich with amusement.
"Took you long enough,"
he mused, crossing his arms as he leaned back lazily.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't figure it out."
He had spent his whole life believing he was the last of his kind. That no other Demon Sorcerer had survived the massacre. That he was alone.
And yet, standing before him was undeniable proof that everything he had been told was a lie.
His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms. A thousand emotions crashed over him at once—disbelief, confusion, fear. But beneath it all, something else stirred. Something dangerous.
Hope.
His eyes flickered over Vanyul's features, searching for something—anything—that would make sense of this moment. He didn't recognize him, not truly. And yet… there was something about him, something he couldn't explain. A familiarity that lingered just beneath the surface, like a forgotten dream.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't alone.
A strange tightness coiled in his chest. He didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.
Vanyul took a slow step toward him, watching him with keen, unreadable eyes.
"I can see the questions running through your mind."
His voice was low, almost coaxing.
"You want answers, don't you?"
Sihyun clenched his jaw. He did. More than anything.
But something about Vanyul unsettled him. The ease with which he wielded his power. The way he looked at Sihyun, like he already knew what he was thinking.
"You've been lied to,"
Vanyul continued, his tone gentle yet insidious.
"They raised you in a world that despises what you are. But I can teach you, Sihyun. I can show you what it truly means to be one of us."
Sihyun's stomach twisted. His whole life, he had been treated like an outcast. Feared. Hunted. And yet, here was someone who shared his blood, his magic. Someone who understood.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
For so long, he had longed for this.
And have hoped for this.