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Chapter Text

Park Seonghwa’s father, the vampire Coven’s Sire and longtime leader, had been murdered last week. 

While Hongjoong was fairly sure that the assassin hadn’t been any of his fellow Hunters, he didn’t know who it had been. Perhaps the Wolves were trying to stir up trouble again. The fragile peace between the three factions was always strained, and tensions had reached an all time high due to the assassination.

But none of that mattered right now.

Hongjoong balled his hands into fists, squeezing so hard that he was afraid that his nails digging into his palms would draw blood. He quickly released them before that could happen. That couldn’t happen. Not today of all days.

It was his wedding day. He was just minutes away from being bound in eternal matrimony to Park Seonghwa, the new leader of the Eastern Coven. 

Park Seonghwa was the vampire Sire’s only trueborn son and heir. Hongjoong had briefly spoken with him only a couple of times before– once a few years ago when he was nineteen, and again just last week, to finalize the wedding date. 

The wedding had been scheduled for a week from the very day of the assassination in order to reaffirm the alliance between vampires and Hunters, to ensure the Treaties held strong during the transition of power to the Sire’s heir.

Hongjoong didn’t want any of this. He felt like throwing up. He felt like running to the nearest window and throwing himself out in a spray of glass shards until his body collided with the dark, welcoming ground. But it had to be him, or it would have been his little brother, Jongho, his only other true blood relative within the Commander’s bloodline. And Hongjoong would never allow that to happen. It was better to take this burden himself, keeping the peace at the expense of his own body and soul. Leaving Jongho out of it. Protecting him.

Slender, dark-eyed Wooyoung straightened Hongjoong’s collar and fussed unnecessarily over his long-tailed coat – Hongjoong’s wedding suit – brushing barely visible lint off the shoulders and back. Wooyoung’s face, usually flaunting a mischievous grin, was as solemn as Hongjoong had ever seen it.

“You don’t have to do this, Captain,” Wooyoung whispered, his soft voice sounding angry, with a tinge of desperation, as he straightened Hongjoong’s tie for the hundredth time. He smelled faintly of the whiskey he had been sneaking all day from a hidden flask when he thought Hongjoong hadn’t been looking. He still hadn’t donned his own tie, and the top of his own white collared shirt gaped open. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “We can find another way,” Wooyoung insisted.

Hongjoong held up a finger to shush him, and shook his head. He gave the expression that meant enough , and Wooyoung’s mouth snapped shut. Hongjoong didn’t have the words to argue with Wooyoung anymore. 

Wooyoung let out a begrudging sigh and moved aside so that Hongjoong could view himself in the tall, ornate mirror. Hongjoong met his own gaze in the mirror. He looked resigned. Exhausted. He tried to correct his expression and posture to exude more strength and self assurance. 

He just saw a scared little boy.

“You look so handsome today, Captain,” Mingi’s deep voice rumbled next to him. The strikingly tall younger man, bedecked in several silver chain necklaces and a fur-lined trenchcoat, reached out and gently brushed a stray golden hair out of Hongjoong’s eyes. Hongjoong reached up and patted Mingi’s cheek, and Mingi tipped his head downwards, his sable hair flopping over his charming brown eyes. 

“You have to be strong,” Hongjoong said in his most commanding voice, trying not to let it crack. “For me. For Jongho. For everyone.” His gaze flickered towards Wooyoung, but couldn’t linger. Wooyoung stood with his head hung in defeat, looking every bit as devastated as Hongjoong felt. But he couldn’t let them see. He had to be brave for them.

“That monster doesn’t fucking deserve you,” Mingi declared, his full lips pressing together tightly in disgust. Hongjoong pinched his cheek affectionately, and Mingi’s expression softened.

“We could just kill them all tonight,” Jongho suggested nonchalantly as he finished strapping a small silver dagger inside his boot. “Wedding day massacre has a nice ring to it.” 

Mingi’s lips twitched into a tiny smirk, and even Wooyoung’s gaze lifted slightly, his eyes glinting with a shred of hope. Hongjoong let out a chuckle at his brother’s boldness, but he shook his head in resignation, cementing what that they all knew– that he meant to go through with it. Wooyoung’s face fell again.

Jongho straightened up defiantly. He looked so handsome, so grown-up now. His perpetually stern expression exuded strength and determination. He was still young, but he had worked so hard, training every day without complaining, and leading by example. He would make an exceptional captain for the junior Hunters in Hongjoong’s place. Hongjoong couldn’t help but let a proud smile, tinged with a measure of sadness, creep onto his face.

Wooyoung began nervously flipping his silver butterfly knife open and shut. The chandelier light from overhead glinted off the deadly blade, which he had seemingly summoned out of nowhere.

“C’mon Captain, just give me one chance,” he begged. Hongjoong averted his gaze from Wooyoung’s pleading stare and sighed.

“Hush now, all of you,” an authoritative female voice interrupted from behind them. Wooyoung flourished his knife and hastily made it disappear somewhere in his sleeves.

Hongjoong spotted his mother, stately and bedecked in her best finery that represented her as the leader of the Hunters’ eastern Clan. She had been their Commander since before he had even been born, and her presence dominated the room. 

He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes in the mirror as she approached him. He continued to stare at himself, schooling his expression to remain neutral as his chestnut brown eyes studied his own reflection.

Mingi was right. Hongjoong had to admit that he did look quite handsome today. His bleached, light-blonde hair was combed back neatly, and his sun-kissed skin was smooth and unblemished. His face was beginning to look more like a grown man’s, though he still couldn’t manage to grow much, if any facial hair at the ripe old age of twenty-four. 

He sighed, wishing that he were just a little bit taller. Park Seonghwa was fairly tall, but nowhere near as tall as Mingi. Regardless, Hongjoong hated the fact that he’d have to look up at the vampire as they said their vows. It just added more salt to an already gaping wound.

Married to a vampire to keep the peace. That had become his destiny, the day his older brother had died. It had been just a few weeks before Hongjoong’s twentieth birthday– his brother had gone out on a fateful mission, then everything had changed. Hongjoong had gone from a promising young Hunter leader-in-training to the one who would take his older brother’s place as the betrothed of the vampire heir. 

That’s how his name would be remembered now. Not the Hunter Captain who had led his brave companions to preserve the peace in a world overcome by darkness. 

He was the Bloody Bride. The Black Sacrament. Handed to the bloodsuckers and destined to become one of them . To sacrifice his own soul. He couldn’t… It was becoming hard to breathe. He felt Wooyoung hugging him tightly. Maybe he was crying. Maybe they were both crying. Jongho placed a steadying hand on his shoulders. Mingi leaned down and enveloped them all in his huge arms.

Hongjoong shook himself out of his doom spiral and gently removed himself from their embraces. He usually wouldn’t allow anyone to hug him for long. He’d just been too distracted to protest.

No matter now. By the look in his mother’s eyes, Hongjoong knew it was time to go. 

One by one, his Hunter brothers stepped back from him. All except Wooyoung, who patted Hongjoong’s cheeks gently with his handkerchief. Then he used it to dry his own eyes, before gathering his hair into a neat ponytail and nodding that he was ready. 

Hongjoong took his final deep breath before the plunge and said, “Okay… let’s go to my wedding.”

The walk to the wedding ceremony was mostly a blur in Hongjoong’s memory. 

One of the older vampires, an alluringly attractive man with fiery red hair and a velvety deep voice, spoke to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The two betrothed stood facing one another in front of the crowd of Hunters and Vampires which were seated on opposing sides in the enormous formal hall with high-vaulted ceilings. Maybe this place had once been used for religious ceremonies, but there was no longer any such imagery here. Hongjoong stood where he was directed, performing his duties mechanically, feeling like he was in some sort of waking nightmare.

As Seonghwa repeated his vows, Hongjoong was reminded that the vampire’s voice was surprisingly rich and deep. Not a deep rumble like Mingi’s. Where Mingi’s was rough, Seonghwa’s was smooth as silk.

Hongjoong couldn’t bring himself to look at his betrothed. He instead concentrated his gaze on the wall just beyond the vampire officiant who was reading them their vows, and focused on repeating the words when prompted. His mouth had gone uncomfortably dry and his tongue felt heavy, as if it were turning to stone.

His mother stood somewhere nearby. He couldn’t bring himself to look in her direction or at his Hunter brothers in the crowd. She had negotiated one week for them to prepare for this wedding after the Sire’s death. He knew why she had done it, but he was still in shock at how little time she had given him to prepare. Hongjoong had thought that perhaps they could delay the wedding indefinitely, or at least until he was much older. He didn’t want to be angry with her, but he had been devastated that she hadn’t managed to buy him more time. Time for him to live and to be free.

“I do,” Seonghwa promised, his face expressionless. Hongjoong studied him from the corner of his eye, unable to look directly at the vampire as he concluded his final vow.

Seonghwa was tall, slim, and pale as a fresh corpse. His shoulder-length snow-white hair was slicked back neatly on the sides, and he wore a perfectly tailored black suit with a matching vest that had been accented with silver thread. 

He was a complete mystery to Hongjoong. The vampire heir had mostly observed quietly from the shadows during parleys between the Hunters and the Vampire Coven. Meanwhile Hongjoong had been heavily involved in negotiations since he was a teen.

“...as long as you both walk this earth?” finished the red-haired vampire. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. Hongjoong stared down at his own freshly shined shoes. He took a deep breath. Then he brought his eyes up to meet Seonghwa’s. Just for a moment. He needed to see who it was he was marrying.

Eyes black as night glittered back at him. Hongjoong’s stomach flipped, and he forced himself to swallow his trepidation.

“I do,” Hongjoong said, with as much confidence as he could muster. His voice sounded so small and uncertain to his own ears. He stood as tall as he could, trying to project confidence.

Seonghwa stared back at him, his expression as fathomless as the darkest depths of the ocean. So this is what mutual hatred felt like, up close and personal. They both really did not want to be here. Hongjoong felt strangely comforted knowing they at least had this one thing in common. 

He tore his eyes from his new husband’s penetrating gaze as the red-haired vampire held out a satin pillow with two diamond studded wedding bands nestled on top. Seonghwa took one, and Hongjoong made himself reach up and take the other, trying to keep his hand from trembling visibly.

Seonghwa held out his hand, extending his pale slender fingers. Hongjoong couldn’t help but imagine freshly spilled crimson blood dripping from them. He managed to slide the ring onto Seonghwa’s finger with minimal contact.

When it was Hongjoong’s turn, Seonghwa unexpectedly reached down and took Hongjoong by the wrist, lifting his hand upwards so the crowd could see better. Hongjoong could feel his face heating as Seonghwa touched him, and he resisted the urge to snatch his hand away. The vampire’s hands were cool to the touch, but not as icy cold and corpse-like as Hongjoong had expected.

Seonghwa hesitated for half a second, his eyes fixing upon Hongjoong’s flushed cheeks and throat, before pushing the ring onto Hongjoong’s finger and swiftly dropping his hand.

Hongjoong heard a softly murmured “Fucking hell…” from the crowd and immediately knew it was Wooyoung. He glimpsed Jongho resting a hand on the back of Wooyoung’s neck in warning as some of the vampires glanced over with annoyed expressions.

Hongjoong was going to throw up. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t faint either. It would be too embarrassing. Too shameful for his mother. For the Hunters. So he held it together for her. For all of them.

He thought he saw a tear slide down his mother’s cheek… but he must have imagined it. His mother didn’t cry, after all.

“I now pronounce you lawfully wedded husbands,” the red-haired vampire announced. “This alliance will be sealed with a kiss.”

Hongjoong had completely forgotten that this was a part of wedding ceremonies. Certainly they didn’t expect them to… certainly not. 

“With a kiss!” the red-haired vampire reiterated, with a beckoning gesture towards both of them. He smiled encouragingly, seeming much too pleased to be here, at this farce of a wedding.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong expectantly. For the first time, Hongjoong saw the shadow of an emotion on Seonghwa’s face as his uncharacteristically pink lips trembled for just a second.

Fuck.

Hongjoong was going to have to do this wasn’t he?

He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Seonghwa. He placed his hands uneasily on either side of Seonghwa’s waist and tilted his head up towards Seonghwa’s face. The vampire went rigid as soon as Hongjoong’s hands made contact with his hips. His eyes widened a bit, and his mouth dropped open, ever so slightly. 

He looked… terrified.

Hongjoong had never seen that expression on the face of a vampire before in his life. He leaned forward and brushed the lightest peck he could manage against the corner of Seonghwa’s lips, as quickly as he could. 

He didn’t know what he should have expected, but it certainly wasn’t that Seonghwa’s lips would be warm and… soft ? He felt himself blushing again. Seonghwa stiffened even more in Hongjoong’s grip, if that were even possible, until Hongjoong released him.

Good enough.

The crowd cheered. Seonghwa seemed frozen in place, the corners of his mouth turned down into a sullen frown.

Hongjoong took charge, grabbing Seonghwa’s wrist where the coat sleeve would act as a barrier between their bare skin and walked them off the platform. He began to lead them down the aisle towards the enormous banquet hall. Seonghwa seemed nearly catatonic at first, but as he passed some of his fellow vampires cheering for him and congratulating them, he seemed to snap out of it and began nodding and thanking them politely.

As they departed, the red-haired vampire gave directions to the crowd, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong entered the banquet hall. The room was ornately decorated with crystal chandeliers and several round tables hosted vases overflowing with pink and black roses.

At the front of the hall was a long, wide table set for the wedding party. There were no flowers, no decorations on this table. The settings were simple and elegant, but an enormously extravagant crystal chandelier, the largest of them all, hung just behind them.

As they neared the long table, Seonghwa extricated his wrist from Hongjoong’s grip and smoothed the sleeve of his coat.

“I’ll return soon,” he said matter-of-factly, and stalked off through one of several side doors near the front of the hall.

Hongjoong took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself.

“Do whatever you want, it’s not like I care,” he muttered, to no one in particular. He located the chair at the center of the long table that clearly was meant to be his or Seonghwa’s, then plopped down and dropped his face into his hands. What the fuck had he just done? Had he really weighed all possible options? Was there still a way out of this? 

No. He had to do this. For all of them. To keep the peace. For Jongho.

He felt like bursting into tears.

It was only the sight of Mingi dashing into the reception hall, with his gigantic coat flapping behind him, that managed to slightly cheer Hongjoong up. Wooyoung and Jongho followed closely behind, and Jongho had his head turned slightly as if watching their backs. Good job, little brother. Never let your guard down.

Hongjoong nodded at each of his Hunter brothers, letting them know he was alright, and they took their places to his left. Mingi took the seat at the far end of the table, settling uncomfortably onto the slightly-too-small chair. Wooyoung plopped down next to Hongjoong, and Jongho seated himself between Wooyoung and Mingi, his watchful eyes scanning the guests as they began to filter into the hall. 

Hongjoong felt like he was too nervous to watch the crowd for signs of danger, but he found himself doing so anyway out of habit. He would never be able to let his guard down again, after this.

The red-haired vampire officiant approached them and introduced himself as Yeosang, and Hongjoong gave him a polite bow. Yeosang sat on the other side of Seonghwa’s empty seat, glancing around as if searching for his new young leader. 

A smartly dressed man with dark, slicked-back hair, wearing rimless glasses and a long coat approached him and whispered something in his ear. Yeosang nodded, then beckoned the man to take the seat next to him.

Hongjoong wrinkled his nose. Vampires didn’t need glasses. This man was one of the many human familiars who worked for the household. He seemed quite young to be in a position of such high honor at the table, so Hongjoong made a mental note to keep an eye on him. 

The familiar smiled with thinly veiled excitement towards the nearby table where servers had brought out an enormous tiered white cake covered in strawberries and pink roses. Hongjoong nearly scoffed out loud. What did vampires need with cake? He supposed their human staff and guests would enjoy it, but why should they care enough to even make one? It was probably just for appearances.

A surprisingly tall, fair-haired man who was at least Mingi’s height seated himself at the opposite end of the table. Hongjoong had seen him before at the parleys, but he still knew next to nothing about him, in spite of his efforts. This was another one to keep his eyes on. Rumor was that he was a daywalker, a feat which only the most ancient and powerful vampires could achieve.

Hongjoong noticed that most of the guests seemed to be seated now, and were glancing expectantly at the table as they awaited Seonghwa’s return. Finally, Seonghwa reemerged from the door at the front of the hall, with his suit coat removed and his sleeves rolled up. The vampires in the crowd cheered his return, and Seonghwa took his seat, crossing his leg and holding out a hand up towards the line of familiars that stood prepared to serve food and drink behind them. He seemed much more composed, even haughty now. Had his timidity at the ceremony been an act? Hongjoong wondered what kind of game the vampire was playing with him.

A familiar placed a glass in Seonghwa’s outstretched hand and filled it with what at first looked like a thick red vintage, but with a sniff Hongjoong realized it was blood. Of course it was blood, he chided himself. His nerves seemed to be getting the best of him. He did his best to keep his expression neutral as the familiar filled the glass over halfway, then Seonghwa held up a hand for him to stop. The server complied immediately and stepped back into line behind them. 

Mingi had turned sideways in his chair, looking like he was facing the newlyweds but actually keeping an eye on the line of servers behind them. Good boy.

The servers began to fill everyone else’s glasses– blood for the vampires, red wine for the humans– fanning out amongst the guest tables to make sure that everyone had a drink.

Hongjoong spotted his mother in the crowd, seated at one of the closest tables with several of the older Hunters. Hongjoong bowed briefly to her in acknowledgement as their eyes met, and she nodded in approval. At least she was proud of him. He had to remind himself to keep breathing.

Seonghwa stood and held up his glass for a toast. “To my esteemed guests,” he said with a confident smile, “May this union bring us lasting peace for years to come. Geonbae!”

“Geonbae!” the crowd echoed, glasses clinked, and everyone drank. 

Seonghwa did not clink his glass with anyone before he started drinking, so Hongjoong clinked his own with a grumpy Wooyoung, who promptly drained his glass before Hongjoong could even take a sip of his wine. It was a good vintage. Very old. What else should he have expected? He couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it, though. He had never really liked wine that much anyway, never even finishing a glass on the rare occasions he’d had the opportunity to drink it. 

Seonghwa drained his cup and held his glass up for a refill, to which a server promptly acquiesced. 

Hongjoong felt himself getting a bit queasy. How much blood would Seonghwa drink tonight? How fresh was it? Who was it from? Likely it was a donation from one of their many familiars. Just enough so that the familiar didn’t die, but would need several days to recover. Hence the large collection of familiars at this manor.

Would Seonghwa want to drink Hongjoong’s blood tonight as some sort of sick vampire wedding ritual? Hongjoong vowed that he would not allow anything of the sort.

The servers placed food on each of the human’s plates, but Hongjoong couldn’t bring himself to eat. He stabbed his chopsticks at a piece of what appeared to be real meat a couple of times, pretending to be interested, until he caught Seonghwa staring at him with thinly veiled disgust. He put his chopsticks down and tried to look unperturbed and preoccupied with taking in his surroundings. 

Wooyoung stood up next to him, patting Hongjoong’s shoulder and leaning close to his ear. “I’m going to need something a bit stronger than wine, boss. Be back soon,” he murmured, before slipping off into the crowd. 

The familiar with spectacles stood a moment later and approached Seonghwa, bending to whisper something Hongjoong couldn’t quite hear. Seonghwa closed his eyes for a moment, frowning with displeasure, then gave the familiar a curt, dismissive wave. The familiar bowed and left the hall through one of the side doors. 

Hongjoong took a sip of his wine, hoping Wooyoung would be successful in finding them something stronger. He was going to need it to get through this.

Chapter Text

Wooyoung was drunk already. Exceptionally, excessively drunk. He’d been drinking intermittently since this morning, trying to dull his nerves in anticipation of the wedding.

He didn’t usually let his self control become compromised like this. But that didn’t matter anymore. Nothing fucking mattered anymore. Their Captain was leaving them. Sure, it was for the greater good, blah blah blah. Wooyoung didn’t give a fuck about the greater good right now— he wanted his Captain back. He didn’t want to think about him living with these bloodsucking monsters. Becoming one of them. 

He was never going to let that happen.

Anyways, the vampires probably wouldn’t see a drunk-off-their-ass human, even if they were a Hunter, as a true threat, so maybe he could use it to his advantage while he scouted out the manor a bit.

He had lifted an entire bottle of some dry red (of course it was red) wine from one of the tables in the banquet hall and had sneaked off into one of the adjacent corridors to drink alone. But before he had finished half of it, he had followed some of the servers he saw transporting some very fine looking liquor and swapped the bottles when they had set down the trays.

The liquor was excellent. Some sort of vintage whiskey. He took another indulgent sip as he rounded a corner– and accidentally bumped into someone very solid. The collision nearly knocked him back on his ass, but the man caught him by the arm and effortlessly hauled him back up.

Wooyoung’s reflexes were slower than usual, but he still managed to whip his butterfly knife out with his free hand. He held the point of his knife to the man’s throat while the man blinked down at him curiously through his spectacles and raised his hands in surrender. 

Wooyoung used the pinky of the hand that was wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle to lift the man’s upper lip, then leaned in close to inspect him. The man stood perfectly still, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly in amusement. “What’re oo doing?” he asked as Wooyoung continued to probe clumsily at his mouth.

“Checkin’ for bloodsucker teeth,” Wooyoung replied, stepping back and making his knife disappear when he was satisfied.

“Just a regular human here,” the man said, gesturing briefly at himself as his hands remained up in surrender.

“I suppose,” Wooyoung sneered, taking another sloppy sip from the whiskey bottle.

“Um… you’ve got…” the man began, looking at Wooyoung and gesturing as if looking for permission to reach into his coat pocket.

“Got what?” Wooyoung snapped.

The man reached carefully into his pocket and Wooyoung stepped back, only relaxing when he realized the man had pulled out a handkerchief. The man stepped towards him, cautious but unafraid. “May I?” he asked, holding up the handkerchief.

“May you wha–?” Wooyoung was cut off by the man dabbing his handkerchief on Wooyoung’s lips and chin. His eyes sparkled with amusement. There were tiny gold flecks lodged in the brown of his irises. Or maybe Wooyoung was just imagining it. He was so fucking drunk.

“You um… spilled a little bit… on your chin.” the familiar told him. Wooyang slapped his hand away.

“Back off. I don’t like bloodsucker asskissers,” Wooyoung said, trying and failing to keep his speech from slurring.

“My name is San,” replied the man, unfazed. “What should I call you?”

“You can call me your worst nightmare,” Wooyoung replied cheekily. He spun on his heel to leave but instead stumbled backwards onto the man, necessitating his being caught up in the familiar’s remarkably brawny arms.

“What have you got hiding under that suit, San?” Wooyoung asked, shifting his demeanor to become more flirtatious. He reached up and squeezed one of San’s biceps while simultaneously sliding his whiskey bottle hand under San’s coat. The fabrics he wore were rich. Luxurious even. Someone liked to spoil this familiar. The thought turned Wooyoung’s mood sour again for some reason.

San smiled coyly and set Wooyoung upright again. Wooyoung’s hair had fallen loose and his hair tie was nowhere to be seen. He stood staring at the ground, searching for it, but he was so dizzy. He didn’t see it anywhere. 

“Do you need an escort, Mr. Nightmare, or are you going to be able to find the banquet hall again on your own?” San asked with an amused expression on his stupid handsome face.

“I don’t need your help,” Wooyoung told him, poking San’s chest and finding very little give. “But thanks for the valuable… conversation.” He winked mysteriously and stumbled back in the direction of the banquet hall, leaving San alone in the corridor with a baffled smile.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong sighed, wishing that the uncomfortable wedding reception would end quickly. He had no idea what the vampires had planned, regarding how long this was expected to go on. He stifled a yawn as the exhaustion from getting no sleep last night began to settle in. The only thing keeping him awake right now was pure adrenaline and the need to be vigilant, as the Sire’s assassin or possible accomplices could very well be here tonight.

Hongjoong noticed his mother approaching the table with a few of the other Hunters. Seonghwa stiffened in his seat, his face turning hard and expressionless as they stood before them.

“We congratulate you and my son on this auspicious union,” Hongjoong’s mother said, bowing formally. Seonghwa inclined his head politely, but said nothing.

“We will be taking our leave now,” she continued, and Hongjoong felt his heart drop.

“Oh, won’t you stay for the rest of the celebration?” Yeosang urged, side-eyeing Seonghwa and assuming what appeared to be a contrived smile.

“Unfortunately, duty calls,” the Hunter’s commander said circumspectly. Hongjoong tried not to look too curious, wondering if she’d gotten a lead on the assassin. His mother’s face remained unreadable, but he could sense her urgency.

“I must insist that you stay, at least for… some cake,” Seonghwa said, his voice frigid as he gestured at the ridiculous flowery cake on the nearby table.

Hongjoong scanned the crowd for Wooyoung, but he was nowhere to be seen. The familiar who had been seated at this table had also disappeared. Hongjoong hoped that Wooyoung hadn’t decided to do something stupid. But he trusted him. He had to.

He met Jongho’s eyes. Jongho and Mingi were both visually searching different parts of the room, marking the exits and targets in case anything went wrong. Neither of them had touched their food.

Hongjoong’s mother stepped up so that she stood right next to the table as Seonghwa held his wineglass up for more blood. The server poured and poured until the cup grew close to overflowing.

“We’ve gotten a lead on your father’s assassin,” she said in a hushed tone.

Seonghwa’s fingers flexed and his wine glass shattered in his hand.

To his own merit, Hongjoong was the only one who didn’t flinch as drops of blood spattered his face and the entirety of Seonghwa’s hand and arm. He surreptitiously slid a hand beneath his coat as he kept his eyes glued on the vampire, assuring himself that the small knife he had stowed was still there.

The room had gone silent, and a mildly alarmed expression flickered over Hongjoong’s mother’s face. “I’m sorry, but we need to follow this,” she urged. As she waited for his response, conversations began to resume amongst the guests, more muted than before.

A familiar handed Seonghwa a white towel, while another began picking up the bloodstained shards from the floor. Seonghwa dabbed his arm until it stopped dripping with the squandered blood, then wiped his hands and lips angrily, tossing the towel back towards the familiars with a disgusted sneer. Hongjoong’s stomach twisted with dread. It appeared his husband had a temper.

“Go.” Seonghwa’s voice was like the tolling of a death knell.

The senior Hunters and their commander bowed to both Seonghwa and Hongjoong then departed quickly from the hall.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel completely abandoned, whether they had gotten a lead on the assassin or not. How could she leave him like this? The little boy deep inside Hongjoong that just wanted his mom to protect him wailed. He schooled his expression as he gently dabbed flecks of blood off his face with a napkin. At least his brothers were still here.

It was at that moment Wooyoung burst back into the hall from a side door near their table. The little bastard staggered forward and leapt up onto the wedding party’s table, grasping a bottle of fine liquor in one hand like it was his lifeline. Mingi and Jongho pushed back quickly from their chairs, watching the open entryway to see if he was being pursued. No one followed after him.

Wooyoung took a hearty swig from the bottle as he lurched towards Hongjoong. He stumbled, knocking his silverware and dinner plate to the floor with a loud commotion as he fell to his knees at the center of the table. His hair had fallen loose from its ponytail, and his dark eyes appeared glassy from the effects of the liquor. Hongjoong and Seonghwa, along with many of the wedding guests, watched him in dismay.

“Heyyyy… Captain,” Wooyoung said, his speech slurring as he grabbed Hongjoong’s hand and fell forward into him. Hongjoong caught him. He smelled heavily of expensive whiskey tinged with perspiration. Mingi started to laugh, but went silent at a single look from Hongjoong. Jongho glared at the crowd, as if daring any of them to say anything.

“I think I will skip the cake,” Seonghwa interjected, dark eyes flashing with displeasure. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone.” He stood up and promptly stalked out of the hall.

Wooyoung let go of Hongjoong’s hand and collapsed onto the table, dropping the liquor bottle which promptly rolled to the edge and spilled over the side. Yeosang attempted to mop up some of the liquid with his table napkin, and the tall fair-haired vampire stood and began directing servers to clean up the mess. Mingi rushed over to Wooyoung and dragged the smaller man off the table, tossing him easily over one broad shoulder while muttering half-hearted apologies.

As Mingi scooped up Wooyoung, Hongjoong slid whatever Wooyoung had transferred to his hand into the inner breast pocket of his coat. It was something small that had been wrapped in paper.

“I think it’s time for me to go as well,” Hongjoong announced, nodding at Mingi and Jongho. Both inclined their heads knowingly.

The familiar who had been seated at the table appeared behind Hongjoong as he stood, bowing politely. “I’ll show you to your new quarters, then, Master Hongjoong. Whenever you’re ready.”

Hongjoong clapped Jongho on the back, fist bumped Mingi, and ruffled Wooyoung’s hair. Wooyoung groaned indistinctly from where he lay flung over Mingi’s shoulder and tried to wink at Hongjoong, but it ended up looking more like an awkward blink. Beautiful, clever idiot.

“I’ll see you all later, okay?” Hongjoong told them. “Go home and get some rest.”

Mingi’s face looked crestfallen, but he nodded obediently. Jongho said, “We will be in contact. Be safe, brother.”

“You too, Captain,” Hongjoong replied.

He followed the spectacled familiar out of the banquet hall towards his new living quarters, wondering where his new husband had gone. The familiar, who introduced himself as San, led him down several winding corridors and up a wide flight of stairs to the manor’s master suite.

Hongjoong wasn’t surprised that Seonghwa wasn’t there, but San seemed a little perplexed at his master’s absence, glancing around and knitting his brows.

“Don’t worry,” San tried to reassure Hongjoong. “I’m sure he just needed… a bit of time.” He smiled sweetly, and Hongjoong shrugged. The less time he had to spend in the same room with Seonghwa, the better, as far as he was concerned. Especially after the vampire’s strange reaction to Hongjoong’s mother’s news.

He planned to write his mother a letter, asking about the latest lead on the assassin case and offering to do some investigating on his end. It didn’t really matter what she would reply, he was going to do it anyway.

“Would you like to take a bath?” San asked, breaking the silence.

“Um, sure, I guess?” Hongjoong said, shifting uncomfortably and glancing around the room at his new living quarters. That he would share with his husband.

Despite being expansive, the sitting room at the entrance to the master suite felt a bit stifling to Hongjoong. That was, of course, because these rooms had no windows. They couldn’t have daylight creeping in and searing the denizens of the manor into piles of ash.

“The master bath is private,” San said, ushering Hongjoong into a connecting bedroom. In the center sat an enormous four-poster canopy bed, laden with luxurious silks that Hongjoong couldn’t help but stare at, both in awe and consternation. Would he have to share this bed with Seonghwa tonight? He hoped that maybe Seonghwa would just… not come back.

San led him through a set of gilded double doors at the side of the bedroom and into the bathing chamber, which looked like an entire swimming pool, complete with a set of wide golden stairs for easy access. The walls were painted with realistic depictions of the ocean sparkling bright in the noonday sun. It was a scene no vampire could ever hope to see.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but mutter a bemused “Wow” under his breath, which caused San to chuckle.

“Your towels and bathrobe are here,” San explained, gesturing to a pillowy bench where they had been neatly placed, “Your clothing has also been unpacked into the bedroom wardrobe just around the corner. If you need anything from me, please don’t hesitate to ring the bell.” At this, he gestured to a crimson braided rope in the corner of the room. “There’s one in every room.”

In spite of San’s layered three-piece suit, Hongjoong noticed the man’s broad shoulders and stance gave him away as more than just a servant. He was likely Seonghwa’s bodyguard as well. His movements were just a bit too precise, too deft. Like those of a skilled martial artist. He would certainly be one to look out for. Hongjoong gave him a polite bow. “Thank you, San. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

San bowed low. “At your service, Master Hongjoong. Welcome to the family.”

As San began to walk away, Hongjoong hesitated, then asked, “When you, uh… whenever you see Seonghwa… could you tell him that I’d like to speak with him?”

“Of course,” San answered, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. He bowed again and left the room.

Hongjoong really didn’t want to see Seonghwa… but he needed to ask him what he knew about the assassin. This was his chance to get his side of the story and maybe gather details the Hunters had previously not had access to.

You should stop working now, Captain. You’ll feel better if you get some sleep, the memory of Mingi’s gravelly voice resounded in his head. Hongjoong swallowed hard and pushed his emotions down as he removed his wedding finery, letting it fall to the ground in a heap. He descended the gilded steps and slid into the steaming water of the enormous bath.

It was hard for him to stop the wheels in his head from turning once he got onto a case. But he also knew that he was using the assassination to distract himself from the life-changing event that had happened to him today.

He could pretend it didn’t happen and bury himself in work so he didn’t have to think about it and confront the emotions that came with it. At least, he could do this until… no. He wouldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t. It was easier to just focus on tracking down the assassin. It was something he knew he could handle. Something he was good at.

Even though he was technically no longer a Captain within the Hunters, he didn’t think he would ever be able to stop thinking like one. It was a part of his very being.

He sighed, sinking deeper into the warm water until he was fully submerged.

After he finished washing up, Hongjoong exited the bathing chamber wearing a plush white towel around his waist. He had nearly rolled his eyes at how soft and comfortable it was when he had wrapped it over his damp skin. The vampire Coven was outrageously wealthy— a legacy borne from blood. Today Hongjoong had become a part of that family. He felt sick just thinking about it.

He pushed his wet golden hair out of his eyes. He had to find his clothes. They were one of his only ties to his previous life.

San had told him they were in the wardrobe around the corner. Upon quick inspection, the enormous wardrobe in question did indeed hold all of the clothes he had sent to the manor. They were all neatly pressed and hung or folded. Thank you, San.

As he located his pajamas, Hongjoong heard the heavy outer door to the sitting room creak open, followed by soft footsteps and muffled voices. He walked as quietly as he could to the closed bedroom door and placed his ear against the solid wood, clutching his flannel pajamas against his bare chest.

“–no way I’m doing that. They can’t expect me to–”

Seonghwa’s soft voice, filled with anger, was cut off abruptly by Yeosang’s distinctive baritone: “It’s an ancient tradition! But most importantly, they won’t consider the marriage valid until you spend at least one night together, otherwise it can be legally nullified. Do you really want to go through this whole process again? I’m telling you, it’s easiest to just get it over with tonight.”

“You don’t understand,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice becoming almost too low to make out. It suddenly rose fervently, “...he kills me in my sleep, what then? It’s not safe.”

“Our Coven has been intermarrying with Hunters to uphold the Treaty for generations, Seonghwa. No one has ever murdered anyone in their sleep. …On the wedding night, anyways.”

Hongjoong could practically feel Seonghwa seething in the silence that followed from the other side of the door.

“Alright. Fine,” Seonghwa eventually relented. “It’s ridiculous and makes no sense, especially considering we are two men. I’ll do it to appease everyone and to make it legal. But if I’m dead… deader than usual… in a few hours, I’ll find a way to haunt you forever.”

Yeosang chuckled, “That’s the spirit. Now go get him, tiger.” Hongjoong’s hands clenched his pajamas more tightly. Oh, that was definitely not–

“I won’t be getting anything, you asshole,” Seonghwa replied. “Nothing like that will ever happen between us.” Hongjoong let out a small sigh of relief. It was good to know their expectations were aligned.

“He’s a handsome man. Maybe you’ll change your mind, eventually,” Yeosang replied in a teasing tone. “I’ll see you later. Try to get some rest, you look awful.”

“Thanks a lot,” Seonghwa huffed.

“Goodnight!” Yeosang called.

Seonghwa replied with something unintelligible.

Hongjoong heard footsteps rapidly approaching the door, and he stepped back towards the wardrobe just as the door swung open, revealing Seonghwa, looking as pristine as ever except for the bright crimson spatters on his left sleeve. The vampire’s annoyed expression quickly shifted to dismay.

Hongjoong stood before him wearing just a towel, holding his pajamas. He hugged the flannel cloth more tightly to his chest.

“Uh,” Hongjoong cleared his throat. “I didn’t really expect that you’d come back tonight.”

The muscles in Seonghwa’s jaw twitched as he stared at Hongjoong, unblinking.

“I wanted to–” Hongjoong cut off abruptly as Seonghwa stalked to the opposite side of the room. The vampire began digging through a different, slightly larger wardrobe that was filled to the brim with fine clothes, all organized neatly.

“I am only here,” Seonghwa said without turning around, “Because legally we must spend the night together. To validate the marriage.”

“Okay…” Hongjoong said, biting his lip nervously, then catching himself. He couldn’t project any weakness if he wanted to work with Seonghwa. “I wanted to talk with you about the assassin anyway.”

Seonghwa’s back stiffened as he continued to pillage his wardrobe, seemingly searching for something that wasn’t there. Finally, he grabbed some navy blue silk pajamas, then swept past Hongjoong into the bathing chamber, slamming the doors behind him.

Hongjoong sighed and knocked on one of the double doors. “Seonghwa, please come out and talk with me. This is important.”

The door opened a crack, and Seonghwa’s voice came through. “Put some clothes on, and I’ll think about it.” The door clicked shut again.

Hongjoong glanced at his reflection in the floor length mirror mounted next to his wardrobe, where he could clearly see the blush creeping up his neck and filling his cheeks. His hair was still damp and uncombed, and he was wearing just the towel wrapped about his hips, barely covering his thighs. Hongjoong wasn’t big and broad like Mingi or even San, but he was still well-muscled and his torso still appeared fairly chiseled. He had been sparring with his brothers for hours nearly every day leading up to the wedding, just in case the event had all gone to hell.

He pulled on his pajamas, then went to sit on the long chaise lounge positioned in front of the enormous fireplace that faced the bed. He stared into the flames, thinking about throwing himself in as he thought about how he must have appeared to Seonghwa, disheveled and half-naked. Had Seonghwa thought Hongjoong was expecting something from him, on their wedding night? He should make his expectations abundantly clear with the vampire as soon as possible.

To make things even more awkward, Seonghwa had probably spotted some of the numerous scars on Hongjoong’s chest and arms. Most came from fights where he had captured or killed monsters. He had earned each and everyone one of them. But to Seonghwa, they were probably just a reminder that Hongjoong had killed his kind— feral young vampires, made outside the confines of the Treaty. And it had happened more than once.

What a disaster.

Hongjoong just wanted to talk about tracking down the assassin, that was all.

The bathing chamber doors finally opened after nearly an hour of Hongjoong sitting lost in his own thoughts, and Seonghwa re-entered the bedroom. He looked shockingly… normal. Well, as normal as a vampire in pajamas could look. His entire face and demeanor seemed softer around the edges, and he appeared less intimidating with his dark eye makeup removed. His freshly washed and dried hair looked fluffy and soft.

Hongjoong resisted the insane urge to reach out and pat down a small piece of silvery white hair that was sticking up on the back of Seonghwa’s head. He didn’t want to lose a hand or something by touching the vampire unbidden.

“Do you, um… have a desk somewhere? With paper and something to write with?” Hongjoong asked as Seonghwa glided past him and ensconced himself gracefully into an overstuffed armchair, keeping his distance.

An awkward silence stretched out between them, during which Hongjoong covertly double checked that he had managed to fasten all of the buttons on his flannels, before Seonghwa said, “There is a desk…uh, in the sitting room.” The dancing flames in the fireplace illuminated his pale body as he sat completely still in the chair, rigid as a statue. Like he wasn’t even breathing. He didn’t need to, after all.

Hongjoong nodded in thanks, but Seonghwa spoke again as he stood to leave, “You don’t need to be working right now. You should… come to bed.”

“I’ll work whenever I feel like it,” Hongjoong snapped, his reply coming out more harshly than he’d intended. He stood and opened his wardrobe, retrieving the box containing his journal with all of the information he’d gathered about the assassin. San had kindly placed it next to his shoes and other belongings.

When Hongjoong turned back to face the vampire, Seonghwa blinked several times, his face unreadable. Hongjoong noticed that Seonghwa’s long eyelashes were dark, in stark contrast with his silvery white hair. “Well, I’m going to bed…” Seonghwa said quietly. “I won’t touch you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You just want to get your duty over with, so you can leave as soon as possible. Is that it?” Hongjoong scoffed, evoking a flash of irritation in Seonghwa’s eyes. “Why don’t you want to help me work on the assassin case?” Hongjoong pressed. “It was your own father who was murdered, after all.”

Seonghwa stood up and was face-to-face with Hongjoong within a split second, glaring at him with those near-black eyes but saying nothing. Hongjoong took a deep breath, steadying himself. He wouldn’t let Seonghwa see him waver. He was a Hunter, after all. He shifted his stance and casually placed his free hand on his hip.

“You. Don’t. Scare. Me.” Hongjoong declared, forcing himself to meet the endless dark of Seonghwa’s gaze. After a long, tense moment, Seonghwa’s mouth quivered almost imperceptibly, and he turned away. He walked towards the far side of the bed.

Hongjoong didn’t move.

“I’m going to sleep now,” Seonghwa murmured, as subdued as Hongjoong had ever heard him. Hongjoong was rather shocked that his act had worked. What kind of vampire was Park Seonghwa, that he couldn’t even stare down a Hunter on his own turf? Hongjoong almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“It’s nearly midnight. Shouldn’t you be sleeping during the day?” Hongjoong asked.

Seonghwa stared at him. There was something Hongjoong couldn’t quite interpret in his eyes. Maybe it was hatred.

Hongjoong shook his head, exasperated, and departed to the sitting room. There he found the desk and got to work.

Hongjoong woke with his face pressed down onto a hard surface. He sat up, peeling off a paper that had stuck to his cheek. He had fallen asleep at the desk while sorting through possible leads on the case. Maybe he was more exhausted than he previously thought. He hadn’t gotten much sleep at all the past few days due to his dread of the wedding.

He yawned and blinked several times, searching the room until he spotted a clock on the mantle that read just after two in the morning.

An early night it was. He could no longer keep his eyes open.

He abandoned his resources on the desk and trudged back into the stupidly large bedroom, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him as quietly as he could manage given his exhausted state.

Seonghwa lay on the far side of the enormous bed with his back to Hongjoong. A makeshift divider constructed from several of the fluffy silken pillows segregated him from the rest of the bed. He hadn’t even given himself half of the bed, more like one quarter of it, and he lay on a single pillow with his blankets pulled up to his chin.

Hongjoong felt a twinge of some emotion… No. He didn’t feel bad for neglecting Seonghwa. Neither of them wanted this, after all. And the vampire hadn’t exactly been friendly.

He climbed into the opposite side of the bed slowly, being careful not to jostle the mattress and awaken Seonghwa. The last thing he wanted now was to face that unblinking, judgmental stare or have another disagreement. That had felt wrong. It was their wedding night, and they were both miserable. Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel sorry for both of them, being so unhappy in this arrangement that had been forced upon them.

Maybe they could work together on the assassin case tomorrow, if Seonghwa would snap out of his bad mood. Being angry about it didn’t change anything. They should work with the situation given to them to make it as tolerable as possible.

As Hongjoong leaned towards his nightstand to turn off the lamp, he thought he saw Seonghwa flinch. Hongjoong waited to see if he had imagined it, but Seonghwa lay perfectly still. Not breathing. Probably asleep. He guessed it had been a trick of the light messing with his tired eyes.

Hongjoong was about seventy percent sure that Seonghwa wouldn’t try to murder him in his sleep.

He switched off the lamp, then lay down on one of the many fluffy pillows the vampire had left untouched on his side of the bed.

“I’m not going to stab you while you’re sleeping,” Hongjoong whispered into the darkness, so softly that it was unlikely Seonghwa could have heard him, even if he had been awake.

Hongjoong thought he heard the tiniest exhale. But he must’ve imagined it.

Chapter Text

When they arrived at the Hunter’s cabin southeast of the city, Mingi carried Wooyoung straight to bed. He placed his half-conscious companion gently onto the mattress and brushed Wooyoung’s dark hair out of his face. He began untying and pulling off the younger Hunter’s shiny leather shoes to muffled groans of protest.

“Shh, I’m helping you, bastard,” Mingi told him, shifting the drunk man’s legs and tucking him under the covers. “You’re really gonna feel this one in the morning.”

“Mffmmph…” Wooyoung replied, turning his face into his pillow and resting his arm over his head. “Lemme sleep.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Mingi protested.

“You should also get some sleep, Mingi,” Jongho called from the doorway as he passed by on the way to his own room. “We’ve got plans for tomorrow.”

“Big baby, go sleep…” Wooyoung mumbled into his pillow, flapping his hand and shooing vaguely in Mingi’s direction.

Mingi sighed and turned the light off for Wooyoung before crossing the hall to his own room, where he shed his coat and most of his silver chains and formal jewelry, all except for one. He showered and changed into simple navy sweatpants and a white tee. Out of habit, he walked out to the living room for his nightly routine of harassing Hongjoong to stop working and go to bed.

Then he remembered that their Captain wasn’t there.

He stood very still, taking in the view of the room where they’d all spent so much time together. This was where Hongjoong ended up asleep on the sofa half the time, surrounded by paperwork for leads the Hunters followed to track down rogue Wolves, feral Vampires, or other monsters, even humans, who were causing trouble or killing outside of the confines of the Treaties.

A single tear escaped his eye and slid down his cheek. It was quickly followed by another. Mingi sniffed. He didn’t want Jongho to catch him crying, so he forced himself to return to his own room.

He focused on laying out his clothes and weapons for the next day, then made himself get into bed, even though he was pretty sure he would not be able to sleep.

It was nearly dawn before he found himself slipping off into uneasy dreams.

Mingi tossed his shotgun and both of his pistols onto the dining table of their mountain cabin. After searching all day, they hadn’t found any promising signs from the leads that Hongjoong’s mom, their Commander, had charged them to search for in the City. They had arrived back home in the late evening, but the Commander and the senior Hunters were apparently still out tracking down the lead they had received at the wedding. No word had arrived from them yet, and Mingi was feeling restless.

Tossing his hat on top of his guns, Mingi growled loudly in frustration. He felt like he and the other junior Hunters were being left out of the important stuff, and had just been thrown a bone to keep them occupied until the seniors got back. He was a good tracker. He wanted to use his skills, show them off even, in a way that was helpful. He tossed his equipment belt next to his guns with a heavy thud.

“Stop slamming shit on the table,” Wooyoung told him, squinting and rubbing his temples.

“Not my fault you drank more than you could handle yesterday,” Mingi told him, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t see you two doing anything to help the Captain,” Wooyoung complained. He gritted his teeth then stalked to the kitchen and began pulling out things to make dinner.

“That’s not fair,” Mingi retorted. “We were making sure there wouldn’t be an ambush, like the tipoff said there might be. Meanwhile you were, what, feeling up that hot familiar?”

“I’m going to poison your dinner, Mingi,” Wooyoung said, smiling sweetly and holding up a sharp chopping knife.

“Enough!” Jongho interjected. “We’ve got a lot more to worry about than bickering amongst ourselves, guys.”

“Sorry, Lil Captain,” Mingi said, ruffling Jongho’s hair in passing. Jongho’s expression looked completely done with his shit. “Uh, I mean Captain,” Mingi corrected himself. It still felt wrong. Their Captain was Hongjoong. He would do his best to accept that his little brother Jongho had taken over for him, but it was going to take some time and effort to get used to, regardless of the fact that Jongho was the most mature and level-headed of all the remaining juniors. Mingi could admit it. He knew that Jongho was best for the job, and Mingi had wanted nothing to do with having a leadership position himself.

In spite of his hangover, Wooyoung ended up making them a delicious dinner. Mingi made amends with him afterward by letting the smaller man lay against his chest on the sofa while Mingi massaged his head and neck. Wooyoung’s body was incredibly tense for someone who was normally so easygoing. Wooyoung let out happy little groans of appreciation as Mingi’s large hands went to work. Soon enough, Wooyoung was fast asleep on his lap, content as a kitten with a belly full of milk.

Mingi absently caressed Wooyoung’s shiny dark hair as he spoke to Jongho, who brought a blanket to cover Wooyoung, then nestled into the sofa near Mingi’s feet.

“Do you think,” Mingi said quietly, “That there’s any way we can stop it? The Ceremony for Hongjoong, or whatever they call it.”

Jongho sighed unhappily. “I don’t think so. Hongjoong told us he was going to do what was necessary to uphold the Treaties, and not to interfere. So no matter how much I want to stop it, I’m not going to make that decision for him. He will probably try to delay it as long as possible, but it has to happen within six months of the marriage.”

“Six months isn’t long enough,” Mingi shook his head in disgust. “He should get a choice in this.”

“You know that’s not how this works.”

“Yeah, and I hate it.”

“I don’t love it, but it is part of what keeps the peace between the factions, and it’s worked fairly well for over 200 years. Things are very fragile right now. Both the Coven and the Wolves have been getting restless. We need to make sure the Treaties remain strong, or everything could crumble, and then there will be war again.”

Mingi chewed on his bottom lip as he considered Jongho’s words. Mingi wasn’t afraid of a fight, but a war would be another thing altogether. He could lose all of his brothers if that happened. But fear of that didn’t mean he was okay with losing Hongjoong to the Coven, either.

“What do you think is going on with the Wolves?” Mingi asked, not wanting to discuss them, but feeling that it was necessary.

Jongho shook his head dubiously. “I’m not sure. I know that recently groups of them have been spotted north of the city again, up near where we found you.”

Mingi stiffened. “What are they doing up there? Do you think they’re…” He trailed off, feeling like all the air had left his lungs.

“Trafficking Omegas again?” Jongho finished for him, sensing that Mingi couldn’t bring himself to say it. After a moment, Mingi nodded. Jongho’s jaw tightened like it always did when he was angry. Mingi knew it wasn’t directed at him. His little brother was very protective of him.

“I don’t know,” Jongho admitted. “But I think it has something to do with the lead that Commander got on the wedding night. My guess is that’s where they headed in such a hurry.”

Mingi nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady his emotions like Hongjoong had taught him. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

Jongho gave him an apologetic smile and patted his forearm gently. “If they’re doing that shit again, we will stop them,” he told Mingi. “And you don’t have to be involved, if you don’t want to. If it’s too much.”

Mingi furrowed his brow, focusing on the feeling of Wooyoung’s soft hair slipping through his fingers. “I want to be there. I don’t need to be sheltered from anything.”

“As long as you think you can handle it,” Jongho replied. “I trust you to tell me if you can’t.”

Mingi continued to wordlessly stroke Wooyoung’s hair for a few minutes. Jongho retrieved the janggi board and set it up on the coffee table within Mingi’s reach, then made the first move.

“The Commander said they had a lead on the vampire Sire’s assassin,” Mingi said, reaching out and moving his piece, being careful not to disturb Wooyoung. “Do you think the Wolves up north are connected with that in some way?”

Jongho shrugged as he moved his next piece. “Could be. But that would be a terrible tactic on their part. If they did have a hand in it, and the Coven finds out, they will have broken their Treaty and will have to deal with the consequences. Vampires and Hunters would be given free reign over their territory. Which I’m sure would not be taken kindly to. That could also lead to war.”

Mingi pushed a piece forward, and Jongho continued, “I don’t think they would do something like that so carelessly, knowing what the consequences would be.”

“Unless they want to start a war,” Mingi said bitterly.

“Then why haven’t they taken credit for it already?” Jongho captured one of Mingi’s pieces, and Mingi made a pouty face. Jongho rolled his eyes.

“I guess that’s a good question,” Mingi replied.

“That’s what makes me think it can’t be that simple,” Jongho said, shaking his head in confusion.

“Maybe it’s some rogue player. Someone we don’t know about yet,” Mingi guessed. He captured one of Jongho’s pieces and smiled smugly.

“Maybe. I keep trying to think about who benefits most from it,” Jongho peered at the board, calculating, then made his next move. “If anyone can figure this out, it’s Hongjoong,” Jongho said, taking a sip of his coffee. “He’s been obsessing over it since it happened. He even brought all of his leads and everything to the manor with him so he could keep working.”

“He never stops working,” Mingi said, sighing and moving another piece.

“He really doesn’t,” Jongho said fondly.

“I hope… that the Ceremony doesn’t change him too much. Doesn’t change who he is.”

“I hope so too,” Jongho replied with a grimace. “But I’ll tell you one thing. If he for any reason changes his mind and says he’s not going along with it willingly, I will fucking burn the world down to stop it from happening. Treaties be damned.”

The spark in Jongho’s eyes told Mingi that he absolutely would. Mingi nodded. “I’m with you. You’re going to make a good captain for us, I know it.”

Jongho’s mouth curved into a faint smile for a moment. “Thank you for believing in me, Mingi.”

“Always, brother.”

Jongo leaned forward and moved one of his pieces decisively, then said, “Checkmate.” Mingi stared at the board for a moment, then let out an indignant cry that startled Wooyoung out of his sleep.

“Whaaaa? Who? Huh?” Wooyoung sat up quickly, his knife appearing out of nowhere and brandished for a fight.

“Hey, everything is okay, sorry,” Mingi gently lowered Wooyoung’s knife-wielding hand as the disoriented man glanced around wildly. “Where the fuck do you even keep that thing to whip it out so fast?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Wooyoung said with a sleepy, exaggerated wink. Mingi laughed. His brother was still sassy even half-awake. “Why all the yelling?” Wooyoung asked, flipping his blade shut and stowing it away.

“I’m just beating Mingi’s ass at janggi, and he got upset,” Jongho explained, holding back a smile. He hadn’t even been fazed by Wooyoung’s outburst, and took another sip of his coffee as Mingi settled Wooyoung down.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Wooyoung grumbled. “It was just so comfy…”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” Mingi said, tousling Wooyoung’s hair playfully. Wooyoung yawned and stretched his arms out, bringing them slowly down, then he smacked both of his brothers on the backs of their heads simultaneously.

Jongho lunged for him and Wooyoung screeched, leaping up from the sofa to run away but Mingi caught him. Together, he and Jongho threw Wooyoung back onto the sofa and tickled him until he cried for mercy.

“Serves you right,” Jongho said, crossing his arms and pretending to be stern.

Mingi offered Wooyoung a hand and pulled him back up to a sitting position. Wooyoung sulked, crossing his arms. “Now I’m not sharing any of the dessert I made with you two.”

“You made dessert too?” Mingi asked, perking up excitedly.

“Not for you,” Wooyoung huffed. He stuck his tongue out at Mingi.

Jongho nodded at Mingi and they began to close in on Wooyoung, pretending they were going to tickle him again. Wooyoung’s eyes went wide, and he clambered over the back of the sofa yelling, “Fine! I’ll share! I’ll share! I surrender!”

Jongho lifted an eyebrow. “That’s what I thought you said. We are so fortunate to have such a generous brother.”

“I am very generous, you’re right,” Wooyoung said, dropping into an exaggerated bow.

Mingi laughed as Wooyoung scurried off to the kitchen, then called after him, “Wait for me, I’ll help you!”

Chapter Text

When Hongjoong woke up, the other side of the bed lay empty, made up tidily as if no one had ever been there.

He rubbed his eyes, disconcerted by the lack of morning sunshine that should have been spilling into his room by now. A dim light, however, glowed from inside the bathing chamber, and Hongjoong heard someone shuffling around inside.

He was suddenly overcome by the sense that he had forgotten something. Amidst the chaos and high emotions of yesterday, something important had slipped his mind.

Wooyoung had given him something.

Something he had tucked into his pocket.

Hongjoong threw back the blankets and rushed to the bathing chamber. He found San crouched down, collecting his discarded wedding clothes from the floor.

“Wait!” Hongjoong called, before realizing how suspicious it would look if he went digging through the coat pockets in front of San. Nevermind that.

He snatched the coat from San and dashed back into the bedroom, leaving a bewildered San with a pile of discarded clothes and towels in his arms. Hongjoong dug his fingers into the inner breast pocket until he located the folded paper. He snatched it out and stuffed it into the pocket of his pajamas just as San rounded the corner.

“Master Hongjoong, can I help you with something?” San asked, squinting suspiciously through his glasses. His hair was slicked back neatly, and his perfectly tailored clothes fit him like a glove.

That gave Hongjoong an idea. He swung the wedding coat over his shoulders and slipped it on. “Do you think,” he asked San, “That this coat needs to be taken in a little more at the hemline?” He turned to face himself in the mirror. “I feel like it’s just a touch too long. I assume you have a tailor?”

San moved to stand behind him and looked appraisingly at Hongjoong in the mirror.

“Of course,” he replied slowly, blinking away his confusion. “I can ask her to take the hem in a bit for you.”

Hongjoong smiled pleasantly and slipped the coat off, handing it back to San. “Thank you, San.”

He knew he wasn’t really fooling the familiar, but he was also counting on his being too polite to ask what that had been about.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind San, Hongjoong reached into his pocket and unfolded the paper. A small silver key lay inside, and the words “taken from hot familiar’s coat” were scrawled hastily inside the paper, in Wooyoung’s distinctive handwriting.

Hongjoong smiled. Wooyoung never let him down. Now he just needed to find what this key unlocked.

It was time to explore the manor.

Hongjoong ate a few quick bites of an elaborate breakfast provided by San in the drawing room, before spending the next couple of hours exploring the sprawling manor house. Located on the southwestern hillside overlooking the City, the domicile of the vampire Coven was extremely well-guarded and had rarely been visited by Hunters, except for important meetings involving the Treaties. Still, he had never stepped foot inside the manor itself until the wedding.

His wedding.

He’d had little to no input on the planning, outside of what few approved people he was allowed to invite and what he had chosen to wear. He had reclaimed his autonomy somewhat by imbuing his personal preference into the design of his wedding outfit, customizing it himself over the course of a few days. Maybe it hadn’t turned out exactly… traditional, but nothing about this arrangement had been. He had been pleased with the final result, but was now considering repurposing the coat for something else.

He noted many familiars moving almost silently through the corridors as they completed their daily errands, but Hongjoong did not encounter any of the other vampires. They were probably all sleeping because it was daytime. All except for Seonghwa, who for some reason slept at night. San had been elusive when questioned about his master’s whereabouts, mentioning that Seonghwa had many hobbies with no set schedule.

Where would I go, if I were a vampire trying to avoid my new husband?

Hongjoong didn’t know the answer to that. He knew next to nothing about Seonghwa and his hobbies, and even less about the layout of the Coven’s manor, which had remained a carefully guarded secret to him, until yesterday.

He turned down another unexplored corridor, carefully trying doors to see if they were locked, then trying out the stolen key on any that were. The key hadn’t yet fit any of the locked doors on the second floor. So far, Hongjoong had discovered a music room with an enormous grand piano, a private ballroom, an enormous spa room, and now a small private library.

He inspected the contents of the shelves for a while, taking note of how old most of the books were. They were extraordinarily well-preserved, probably because most of them had little to no exposure to natural light for years. A few of these volumes alone would probably sell for a small fortune.

Nothing really caught Hongjoong’s eye at first. Most of the volumes were various histories or ponderous informational tomes on antiquated pastimes such as horse racing and taxidermy. A well-worn book of fairy tales with gilded letters on another shelf caught his eye, sticking out because of how unusual it was compared with the other subjects collected here, along with the fact that the book itself was slightly misaligned from the other books.

Hongjoong pulled it out, hoping it would reveal something fun like a secret door, but nothing happened. Replacing the book, he began to examine the wall adjacent to a large fireplace with a cushy well-worn reading chair set before it. In the stories and media he had consumed, there was always one brick or something that you could push, and the whole fireplace would flip around, or a bookcase would slide open to reveal a secret passage. But this fireplace was marble, with nothing obvious to push that could act as a switch.

Hongjoong noticed a book on the bottom shelf next to the fireplace looked a little less dusty than the others, and tipped it outward on a whim.

The bookcase next to him popped open on soundless hinges, revealing a dark passage behind it.

Hongjoong giggled softly.

He returned the book to its former position, and the door started to slowly close again. He darted into the passage, his heart beating rapidly with a fresh surge of adrenaline. Pulling a lighter out of his pocket, he began to carefully inspect the narrow passage, stopping when he saw a tiny pinprick of light streaming from the wall. He flipped his lighter shut and pressed his face to the wall, aligning one eye with the tiny hole. Here he had a perfect view of the reading chair in the library.

The library door swung open, and Hongjoong reflexively crouched down. He spent a minute or two concentrating on steadying his breathing and calming his racing heartbeat. After he regained his nerves, he carefully peeked through the aperture once more.

Seonghwa stood at one of the shelves, dressed in an elegant shirt and vest with a pleated kilt, and a golden pocket watch chain draped from his vest pocket. The upper half of his shoulder length hair was tied back into a neat ponytail with a black satin ribbon, and his eyelids sparkled with a tasteful deep red eyeshadow that matched the accents on his kilt.

Hongjoong inhaled softly through his mouth. If Seonghwa hadn’t been the deadly creature Hongjoong knew him to be, he would’ve thought he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Maybe he was, even so. It was too bad that they hated each other.

Seonghwa pulled a book off the shelf in front of him decisively, then settled into the armchair. He removed a thin pink braided cord that seemed to have been holding his place in the tome, and began to read. Hongjoong squinted and realized that Seonghwa was reading the book of fairy tales he had spotted earlier. That was odd.

As he read, a soft, melancholy smile flickered across Seonghwa’s face. Maybe the book wasn’t what it had been labeled. Maybe it was a secret diary or something.

Seonghwa’s eyes closed slowly, and his face gained a meditative look.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” a smooth, masculine voice sounded in Hongjoong’s ear, causing him to jump and clutch his chest in alarm. He flicked open his lighter and held it up, revealing the chiseled jawline and soft cheeks of San, the familiar.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hongjoong hissed, trying to keep his voice as low as possible so Seonghwa wouldn’t hear them.

“I could ask you the same thing,” San said, smiling sweetly. Hongjoong was glad that San probably couldn’t see him blushing in the dark.

“Follow me this way,” San said, motioning for Hongjoong to join him. Hongjoong huffed in frustration, but complied. He had been caught, so there was no sense staying where Seonghwa might be alerted to his presence.

San led him through some dark, labyrinthine tunnels, which eventually opened up into the end of a random corridor. He held a thick cloth aside as they exited, and the wall clicked shut behind them, leaving no evidence that a door had ever been there. The familiar let go of what Hongjoong realized was an enormous tapestry, smoothing the cloth so that no evidence remained of their disturbance. When he was finished, he turned to Hongjoong and smiled expectantly.

“What… do you want?” Hongjoong asked, nervously twirling his lighter between his fingertips.

“Master Seonghwa does not like to be disturbed when he is reading,” San stated simply.

“Okay…” Hongjoong pursed his lips. “Uh, what’s with the secret tunnels?”

“Oh, they run all through the house,” San replied, nodding as if this were perfectly normal.

“Why doesn’t Seonghwa sleep during the day?”

“I–” San hesitated. Hongjoong tilted his head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Why was this the question that had tripped San up?

“Perhaps he will… if he knows that he won’t be disturbed in your quarters at that time,” San hedged.

“I can work somewhere else during the day,” Hongjoong offered. “I can find things to do, I’m sure,” he added, his thoughts drifting to the music room. “But he will need to tell me himself if that’s what he wants to do.”

“That sounds excellent, Master Hongjoong,” San agreed cheerfully. “Is there anything else I can assist you with right now?”

“Uh, no. Thank you, San.”

San bowed and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Hongjoong alone once more.

Hongjoong eventually found his way back to the master quarters of the manor. San appeared around midday and served him a lavish lunch in the sitting room after Hongjoong declined use of the formal dining room. He didn’t want a fuss to be made just for him to dine alone.

He offered for San to join him, but the familiar declined, saying it would be improper, and that he had already eaten. Hongjoong sighed. So much for making friends with the staff.

To his surprise, the meal consisted of some of his favorite foods. He ate until he was full, happy that at least one thing had gone right today. After he was finished, he helped San clear away the dishes, even though San kept protesting, then Hongjoong was once again left on his own.

He couldn’t get the assassin case off his mind. He was frustrated that Seonghwa wasn’t being more forthcoming, but he supposed the vampire could simply be in need of some time to fully process everything. Losing one’s father and getting married all within the span of a week would be a lot for anyone to handle.

Hongjoong sighed and began sifting through his paperwork on the desk, but found himself unable to focus. He began looking through the desk drawers, but found only random writing tools and a substantial supply of high-quality paper. He needed to get comfortable, so he shed the more formal button-up shirt and trousers he had been wearing and slipped into his gray sweatpants, leaving on his white undershirt.

He glanced around the room at the many opulent pieces of furniture. In addition to the desk, plush sofas, and elegant armchairs, there were several glass-front art displays and storage cabinets in the sitting chamber. An elaborate oak dresser along with matching gilded wardrobes and nightstands lined the walls within the bedchamber. Hongjoong’s large trunk containing the rest of his belongings from home had been placed next to his wardrobe at some point while he had been out this morning.

He pulled out a few of his belongings and placed them on the bed, trying to figure out where he was going to put everything. He placed his gun and a couple of his knives in the nightstand on his side of the bed, but left his heirloom silver Hunter’s knife out on the bed for now. He had earned it six years ago when he had been voted Captain of the junior Hunters. He usually wore it proudly displayed on his person when he was geared up. The leather sheath was personalized with his initials, a treasured gift from Mingi.

He sifted through his own clothes that San had already hung in his wardrobe, pulling a few things out and draping them over the back of the sofa to take a look at later. Despite sending his wedding coat away with San to be tailored further, as a decoy for his deception, to be fair, Hongjoong actually preferred to customize his own clothing. He recalled some of the interesting pieces he had spotted in Seonghwa’s wardrobe when the vampire had been searching through it yesterday, and wondered if he could modify some things he had brought to compliment what Seonghwa owned.

Hongjoong searched carefully through Seonghwa’s clothes and pulled out a couple of things, laying them on the back of the sofa next to the pieces he intended to modify. He inspected them for a while, brainstorming ideas as he turned the fabrics over in his hands. Perhaps the clearly fashion-conscious Seonghwa would approve of Hongjoong’s attention to detail in trying to match them. It would be a terrible crime for a vampire and his husband to wear clashing outfits. Hongjoong giggled softly to himself at the thought. He hoped at the very least that his idea would make the sullen vampire smile.

He went to dig around in his trunk in search of his sewing kit, tossing several things aside on the floor. Eventually, he got annoyed and gave up. The trunk was full of so many things that he had just tossed in with no particular order, so he would just look for it later.

He was, fortunately, able to locate his hunting boots and gear including his trench coat, a few spare shotgun shells, and his holsters. He carried these over to his side of the bed and laid them out. Most of this could probably find a place in his wardrobe, if he shifted some things around.

He ran a hand through his hair anxiously, feeling a little overwhelmed. Organizing was not his strong suit. Maybe San could help him with this later. In the meantime, he needed to get back to working on the case. And if Seonghwa wasn’t going to help him learn anything about himself, this place, or the vampire Coven, Hongjoong would do it on his own. Starting with these quarters.

He began by searching the sitting room cabinets for anything enlightening. He discovered several interesting items.

First was a carefully folded paper from one of the storage cabinet drawers. Within the paper, an elegant script listed many different food dishes. He recognized a few of the things he had been served at lunch. A menu, perhaps? Most vampires drank only blood, but some vampires were known to still eat food and drink alcohol on occasion, though Hongjoong didn’t see why they would do so. It would be a waste of time and resources. But maybe Seonghwa still enjoyed eating food.

Most of the glass-front cabinets in the sitting room displayed beautiful sculptures with intricately painted details, while a smaller cabinet in the corner contained several sets of flowery porcelain dishes that looked mostly brand new.

On the wide dresser in the bedroom, various fine jewelry that appeared to be mostly chrome-plated, along with some silver and gold, were displayed either in a glass case or hanging on gold-plated stands. There was also a decorative bowl filled with smooth pebbles and assorted colorful seashells. Mildly interesting, but not extremely helpful. Maybe Seonghwa enjoyed the idea of the ocean or something. The mural on the wall of the bathing chamber certainly seemed to indicate so.

The dresser drawers contained more of the bold, fashionable clothes he had seen the vampire wearing, all folded neatly and arranged by color.

In Seonghwa’s nightstand, he first found a paper with a column of numbers 1 to 31, alongside another column with numbers decreasing incrementally back from 600 to 0. He recognized that these were likely dates and times, but for what?

There was also what appeared to be a small keychain with a smiling plush purple kitten attached to it. It looked like the sort of thing Hongjoong and his brothers would have found in one of the old abandoned arcades in the City.

Most interesting of all, he discovered a small, leatherbound book hidden beneath a set of embroidered silk handkerchiefs in the top drawer of Seonghwa’s nightstand. The volume was quite thick and wrapped several times with a leather cord.

Hongjoong unwound the cord carefully, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the bedroom door was still shut. Now this could be something. When he opened the cover, something slipped out of the yellowed pages and fell onto the floor. Hongjoong snatched it up quickly, then was taken by surprise. It was a small photograph from one of those old-fashioned cameras that printed them for you immediately.

The person in the photo appeared to be a younger, golden-skinned version of Seonghwa, smiling over his shoulder at the camera, with a sparkling blue lake stretching out behind him. His hair was a similar style to how he wore it currently, but shorter and more windswept. More strikingly, it was nearly as dark as Wooyoung’s or Mingi’s hair, but contained subtly lighter highlights— the natural kind one would get from being in the sun often. The expression on his face seemed playful and… happy.

Hongjoong’s heart melted a little at the sight. He had never really thought much about what Seonghwa would have been like before he had… before joining the Coven. Vampires didn’t have children who were born as Vampires after all. They Made them out of human children produced with human women. Hongjoong wasn’t exactly sure how the process of producing an heir from the Sire’s bloodline worked, as it had always been a closely guarded Coven secret. He assumed it was probably something horrific. Perhaps he could find out more, eventually, if Seonghwa would ever speak with him.

Hongjoong wondered how exactly it had happened for the newest young Sire. He knew that Seonghwa had been twenty-one when he became one of them, and that he was a True-born son of the Sire’s union with a Human woman. As far as Hongjoong knew, Seonghwa’s mother was not a part of the Coven, but he knew next to nothing about her. Seonghwa was now twenty-six years old, but he looked youthful as ever.

He recalled the first time he had seen the vampire Sire’s newly-Made son Park Seonghwa— it had been at Hongjoong’s first Hunter-Vampire parley as a young Hunter-in-training. The annual meeting between the leaders and their protégées had included Hongjoong and his older brother Yijun, who were ages nineteen and twenty-one at the time.

Seonghwa and Yijun had been betrothed per the mandates of the Treaties since they were both twelve years old. The Treaty ensured the peace between the long-warring factions of Hunters and vampires, and hadn’t been broken for nearly 200 years.

Hongjoong had only ever known Seonghwa as the vampire he was today. Yijun, on the other hand, had been allowed to spend a week with Seonghwa each summer since the betrothal, so that they wouldn’t be complete strangers when they married at the age of twenty-two. His brother hadn’t told Hongjoong much about Seonghwa, except that he had always been kind and able to make him laugh. That didn’t sound at all like the sullen, irascible vampire Hongjoong had married.

Only a few weeks before their destined wedding, Yijun and two other Hunters had been killed in an ambush during a scouting mission in the City. The Hunters had never been able to find who had done it— they suspected the Wolves, perhaps a rogue group of them working with the traffickers, but whoever had done it had expertly covered their tracks, so there was no evidence to support the accusation.

A short time after his brother’s funeral, Hongjoong had taken Yijun’s place as the young vampire’s betrothed to fulfill the requirements of the Treaty. His life had been fundamentally altered at the age of nineteen, all of his future plans unraveled and remade for him. In light of his brother’s unprecedented death, the Hunters and vampires had agreed to postpone Hongjoong’s marriage to Seonghwa indefinitely for a few years. Until the Sire had been murdered last week.

Hongjoong flipped to the first page of the book. The header was dated eight years ago, in the same delicate script Hongjoong had found on the menu.

His stomach sank as he realized what this was. He hastily replaced the photo in the cover of the journal, and shoved it back into the drawer, feeling guilty now for invading his new spouse’s privacy. The journal had clearly dated back to a time before Seonghwa had gone through the Ceremony to join the Coven. That probably wasn’t something that would help with the case right now.

Hongjoong was curious about the Ceremony, but he also dreaded it and was afraid to know any details about it. It was probably best that he stay in the dark about it, or he might lose his mettle and bolt before the fateful day came for him. It would happen sometime within the next six months.

“What are you doing?” a soft, indignant voice sounded from behind him.

Hongjoong jumped up from where he had been sitting on Seonghwa’s side of the bed and spotted the vampire himself standing in the bedroom doorway. Seonghwa slowly lifted a hand to cover his mouth as his dark eyes scanned the room.

“Where have you been?” Hongjoong asked, still annoyed that he had been left alone for most of the day. He supposed he may have deserved it after last night, but that was beside the point.

Ignoring his question, Seonghwa strode over to Hongjoong and clasped his upper arm, a little too tightly. His cool fingers pressed into Hongjoong’s bare skin just below the sleeve of his t-shirt, and Hongjoong gritted his teeth.

“What have you been doing in here?” the vampire demanded, anger flickering behind his obsidian stare.

“Let go of me!” Hongjoong growled, yanking his arm from the vampire’s grasp. He didn’t understand why Seonghwa was so upset. He hadn’t seen Hongjoong looking at the journal, had he?

Seonghwa backed away, and began glancing frantically around the room at the piles of Hongjoong’s belongings on the bed, the wide open wardrobes, the clothing tossed over the back of the sofa, and at all the things that Hongjoong had tossed on the floor next to the trunk.

“You… you…” he couldn’t seem to finish his sentence. He pressed his palm to his forehead and took a few labored breaths.

“Did you go through all of my things while I was gone?” he asked finally, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He grimaced as Hongjoong gave an indifferent shrug.

“Why don’t you calm down for a minute and I’ll explain,” Hongjoong told him, holding his palms out placatingly. “These are my quarters now, too. I was unpacking more of my stuff and seeing what the storage situation is in here.” Not technically a lie— he needed to try to deescalate the situation. “I was going to–”

Hongjoong clamped his mouth shut as Seonghwa strode over to his own nightstand, slid the drawer open, and removed the journal. He flipped it over, inspecting it carefully.

“Did you snoop through this, too?” he asked, his voice eerily calm, his face void of expression.

Hongjoong reminded himself that the creature before him was not, in fact, human, and could probably eviscerate him in the blink of an eye if he didn’t keep his guard up. He shifted subtly to where he had laid his possessions out on the bed. He could reach his silvered Hunter’s knife in one move, if necessary.

Seonghwa studied his movement impassively, his eyes following the line of Hongjoong’s slightly outstretched hand then flicking over to the sheathed knife. His expression darkened dangerously as he appeared to recognize the weapon for what it was. Hongjoong had seen this look before— on the faces of feral vampires right before he had fought them to the death. He tensed up, ready to spring for the knife if Seonghwa showed any signs that he would attack.

They stood at odds with each other for what seemed like forever, but could only have been a couple of minutes. Seonghwa clutched the book tightly to his chest and glared at Hongjoong, as if daring him to make a sudden move so he would have an excuse to try to end him.

San saved them both the trouble by strolling into the room. “I have a surprise for you Masters! There’s some leftover wedding cake in the— oh…” his voice trailed off as he took in the state of the room and beheld his two Masters facing off before him.

Quicker than Hongjoong would have expected, San darted forward and inserted himself bodily between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, turning his back to Hongjoong but holding a palm backwards as if to say, let me take care of this. San placed his hands on his vampire Master’s shoulders and asked solemnly, “Master Seonghwa, is everything okay?”

Hongjoong took the chance to step conspicuously away from the bed in an effort to help diffuse the situation. As he moved, he noted that San shifted slightly to keep his body directly between both of his Masters.

Hongjoong watched Seonghwa’s rigid stance gradually deflate as San patted his cheek and spoke to him softly, too quietly for Hongjoong to make out what he was saying. Whatever the familiar was telling him, the vampire became visibly less angry, and a look of resignation settled onto his face. Hongjoong let out a mental sigh of relief, but remained alert.

Seonghwa eventually nodded to San and murmured something in reply. He then went to his wardrobe and retrieved a bag, which he hastily filled with some clothes and a few items from the dresser, placing the journal on top. He departed the room without acknowledging Hongjoong.

San sighed and smoothed his fingers over his dark, slicked-back hair, seeming relieved but slightly frustrated. Upon noting the confusion in Hongjoong’s expression, he said, “Master Seonghwa will be coming back here in the daytime to sleep from now on.”

“I…” Hongjoong struggled to know what to say. He was still processing what had just happened. “He didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”

San smiled ruefully. “Well, maybe you will get a chance to speak with him about it later. I will… try to help him calm down. In the meantime, we should let him have some time to himself.”

Hongjoong nodded, still dazed, but grateful for San’s intervention. The familiar bowed and promptly left the room.

Hongjoong exhaled dramatically, then threw himself backwards onto the only remaining space on the enormous bed that was not occupied with his things. He knew he had somehow made a terrible mistake, but he had no idea how he was going to make it up to Seonghwa.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong secured the letter to his mother with some crimson wax and a seal he had found in the desk drawer. He had written to inform her, using one of their many Hunter ciphers, of his difficulties in getting information out of Seonghwa, and his determination to find the old Sire’s quarters and investigate it next. He also asked if the lead that had taken her so abruptly from the wedding had proven useful.

He wrote and sealed a similar letter to Jongho, adding that he was proud of him and knew he would do well taking his place as Captain of the junior Hunters.

He removed a final piece of paper from the desk drawer and stared at it for a full minute, before quickly jotting: “Seonghwa, I am sorry for raiding your wardrobe. I wanted to make us matching outfits. I didn’t read the journal. -Hongjoong”

Hongjoong entrusted the messages to San when the familiar showed up with breakfast, and San promised to take care of them right away.

Afterwards, Hongjoong left to explore the manor again, departing before Seonghwa could show up to their quarters to sleep. He hoped that Seonghwa hadn’t lost too much sleep because of him.

The search for the old Sire’s quarters proved unfruitful once again, as Hongjoong encountered many more locked doors on both the first and second floors. Some of the locked doors were certainly living quarters for members of the Coven.

He began sketching a map of the manor in his journal, noting which rooms he had already searched, and which still needed to be or he had always found locked.

He had been unsuccessful with lockpicks, finding the locks here intricately designed with some kind of electronic safety mechanism to protect against such attempts. He would need the keys if he was to open them. Or Wooyoung. Hongjoong had never quite mastered his brother’s gift for the stealthier aspect of their occupation– he was more of a tracker, a marksman, and a negotiator, whether it be by word or by the sword.

He eventually found himself absently wandering back into the music room that he had discovered yesterday, and seated himself at the grand piano in the center of the chamber. His head was still buzzing with all the questions he had about the assassin, about Seonghwa and his strange habits, along with worrying about and missing his family.

He played a few keys experimentally, trying to find a progression that could help calm his racing thoughts. Something that would help him draw out and capture his pain and loneliness. The piano’s tuning was perfect and the timbre was gorgeous. It was unlike anything Hongjoong had ever played on— certainly an improvement from the old half-rotted instrument he had patiently restored with a variety of scavenged parts as a young teen. He alternated between humming a few lines out loud and finding them on the keys, adjusting the tune if it didn’t sound quite right. He gradually began adding chords and new progressions to the framework he had built, until he had captured the tones of a nascent piece.

He glanced at his silver wristwatch, which had been a birthday gift from his mother last year. He had been here for nearly two hours, but he felt much more relaxed. Unleashing his creativity often helped to soothe the perpetual whirring of his mind. He smiled, satisfied for now, and stood up from the bench.

As he turned to leave, he thought he saw a shadow retreat from outside the doorway to the corridor. He carefully unsheathed his knife, then approached the open door cautiously. When he peered into the corridor, he didn’t see anyone at all.

After another evening spent sorting through his collected leads on the case and choosing the most promising ones to follow up on, Hongjoong spent another night alone in the enormous bed.

When he woke the next morning, he felt disoriented and disturbed. He had dreamed that he had been at the Ceremony– his Ceremony– shortly after his final sunset. He had been surrounded by a circle of blood-starved, red-eyed members of the Coven. Darkness and despair had overcome him as sharp fangs had plunged into his neck over and over again, as the Coven took turns draining him of blood and bringing his mortal life to an agonizing end. The details of last night’s dream faded rapidly from his memory, leaving behind a haze of unpleasant emotions.

Feeling a dire need to destress, Hongjoong dropped to the floor and began doing pushups in rapid succession. He didn’t even like pushups. Or working out for that matter. But he needed to channel his nervous energy somehow, so he forced himself through it, hoping it would help him be able to focus on his present discomfort, instead of dwelling on the dream.

The bedroom door creaked open, and he continued the exercise, saying, “I’ll be right in for breakfast, San.”

When San didn’t reply after a few more pushups, Hongjoong halted his workout and glanced up.

Seonghwa stood perfectly still in the doorway, watching him curiously. Hongjoong stood up and crossed his arms, waiting for him to speak first.

“Good morning…” Seonghwa said ominously, remaining motionless.

“Why are you lurking?” Hongjoong asked, then tilted his head. “See something you like?” He flexed his biceps performatively, then felt incredibly stupid and dropped his arms. He felt his ears burning.

“What? No, I—“ Seonghwa spluttered. He turned and walked into the sitting room.

“Hey, wait!” Hongjoong called, dashing after him. He was glad that Seonghwa had seemed more flustered than he had been. The vampire really could use some more humor in his life. Hongjoong had usually gotten his daily fill from Wooyoung and Mingi, who were always joking around and pranking each other.

Seonghwa halted at the main door to their quarters, hand half-raised to turn the doorknob.

He turned slowly so that only his profile faced Hongjoong, looking not unlike a museum painting come to life. Today his hair was styled in soft waves, and his sable coat was adorned with intricate gold embroidery.

“What do you want?” Seonghwa asked quietly.

“You’re the one who came in here and interrupted my very important workout, so you tell me,” Hongjoong contended, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow. He was never going to get anywhere with Seonghwa if they kept being hostile to one another, so he tried to keep a lighthearted tone to his voice.

Seonghwa turned to face him once more. “I came to tell you… that I accept your apology.” His gaze swept over Hongjoong’s half open pajama shirt. “But I see that you’re busy, so—“

“Oh no, no, no,” Hongjoong interrupted, hastily buttoning his shirt. “You’re joining me for breakfast right now. I suppose it’s a bedtime snack for you, but whatever.”

Hongjoong sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to him, looking up expectantly at Seonghwa. The vampire’s cheeks colored slightly, which Hongjoong still found strange. Instead of sitting next to him, Seonghwa seated himself in the armchair where he had taken his breakfast before. San entered soon after and served them both, smiling to himself when he noticed that his Masters were tolerating each other once more.

While he was eating, Hongjoong thought about going back to the Hunters’ cabin or the City apartment to speak to them in person. But he recalled his mother’s final orders to him— don’t try to come running back to us right away. Stay and do your duty to make sure the Treaties are satisfied. We can’t risk angering the Coven right now.

As much as he wanted to see his brothers again, Hongjoong didn’t want to show up just to be sent home in disgrace. He needed to think of an alternate way to communicate with them for now. He wondered if any of them had come by the manor to visit him. He hadn’t heard anything, but he wouldn’t put it past the Coven to turn away any potential visitors without telling him, especially since the assassination.

He also didn’t dare follow up on any of the leads they had gotten on his own. Going into the Wolves’ territory alone, without backup, would be stupid. He would have to try to establish communication with his brothers first, then figure out how he was going to be able to help them best from his new position.

After an awkwardly silent meal, Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, who had just finished draining his cup of blood.

“Do you know what I think we need?” he asked, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“What do you think we need?” Seonghwa murmured drolly.

“We need an outing. Fresh air. Entertainment!” Hongjoong said. “We need to get out of this stuffy manor, and go out on the town.”

Seonghwa blinked once, incredulous. “To the City?”

“Yes. To the City,” Hongjoong confirmed emphatically. “It’ll be great. There’s so much we could do.”

“I do not… go out,” Seonghwa said.

“Why not?”

“People…”

“What about them?”

“Well, they could try to kill me, for one.”

Hongjoong sighed. “Seonghwa, not to be insensitive but, your father was killed in his own home. Not because he went out on the town.”

Seonghwa glowered at him.

“Sorry,” Hongjoong continued quickly, “I just think that, if you learned to let loose a little, we could try to have some fun together.”

“Like… a date.”

“Well, yes.”

“I’ve never been on a date before,” Seonghwa admitted. “I am… unsure… well, what would I even wear?” Hongjoong noticed the vampire had begun breathing again, a little too rapidly.

“I’ll take care of all of that. The only expectation I have for you is that you try to have fun.” Hongjoong smiled charmingly at Seonghwa, trying not to get his hopes up in case the vampire turned him down. “What do you say?”

Seonghwa’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he seemed to be lost in thought for a long time.

Hongjoong waited.

Seonghwa furrowed his brow. He looked like he was going to say no. But he glanced over to San. The familiar nodded at his master ever so slightly, seeming to be holding back a smile. Seonghwa swallowed hard, then finally looked back at Hongjoong.

“Um, okay,” Seonghwa said, and it almost sounded like a question.

Hongjoong tried not to look too taken aback. He barely managed to restrain his excitement, clasping his hands together to keep from clapping. Finally he would be able to get out of here and go do something. Maybe he could even check in on… no. He didn’t trust Seonghwa enough to reveal the locations of any of the Hunter safehouses yet. But he did have an idea of somewhere they could go that would be sure to leave an impression on Seonghwa, at the very least.

“Okay, that’s much better,” Hongjoong said, stepping back to examine the “going out” outfit he had assembled for Seonghwa. It didn’t need to be too fancy, considering his plans, so he had selected something stylish and casual that wouldn’t draw too much attention in the City late at night.

He walked around Seonghwa, who stood somberly in the middle of the room with an inscrutable expression. The vampire’s eyelids glittered as his black eyeshadow flecked with silvery sparkles caught the light. His lips had been lightly tinted with a slightly darker shade than his natural color, highlighting his pretty, pouty little mouth.

The black leather biker jacket with silvery chrome studs elevated the more casual slinky black cargo pants and the customized platform sneakers that Hongjoong had loaned him. To his delight, he had discovered that they wore almost the same shoe size, so Seonghwa could wear a few of the pairs Hongjoong owned that were slightly too big for him.

Seonghwa chose to wear a simple black tank top underneath the jacket, with a few matching pieces of his chrome jewelry around his neck, along with his white gold and diamond wedding ring that complemented Hongjoong’s own.

But Hongjoong still felt that something wasn’t quite right. Hongjoong sifted through the jewelry on the dresser, then directed Seonghwa to take off a couple of the chrome necklaces. Seonghwa gave him a dubious look, but conceded, and Hongjoong brought him a studded black leather choker from his own collection to add to the ensemble.

“Um,” Seonghwa said softly, as he attempted to fasten it around his throat, but struggled with the clasp.

Hongjoong walked behind him and said, “Lift your hair for me, please.” When Seonghwa had done as requested, Hongjoong fastened the choker for him. He glimpsed the little hairs on the back of Seonghwa’s neck stand up as his fingers brushed over the vampire’s pale skin, and tried not to think too hard about it.

“Well?” Hongjoong asked. “What do you think?” He placed his hand gently on Seonghwa’s shoulder and guided him to look in the tall bedroom mirror next to the wardrobe.

Seonghwa stared at himself for a moment, then turned side to side, scrutinizing his new look. “I’ve never worn anything like this before,” he admitted. “But… I don’t hate it.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, thinking about when he had seen Seonghwa in the library. “Put your hair half up,” he told him. “It’ll look cute like that.”

“C-cute?” Seonghwa choked out. Hongjoong grinned and tossed him a hair tie, then turned and opened his wardrobe. He donned his own red studded leather coat over his black tank top that sported an intricate design that he had embroidered himself using white thread. He wore a white choker and a few of Seonghwa’s chrome chains to match, along with a pair of ripped black jeans that hugged his thighs.

While Hongjoong laced his boots, Seonghwa brushed his own silvery hair back and secured it with the tie, appraising it in the smaller round mirror on the wall in front of the dresser. Hongjoong walked over and inspected him one final time. He smirked and said, “Yeah, that’s hot. I think we are good to go.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened for a second, and he glanced down at the borrowed clothes. “Do people… uh, really dress like this in the City?” he asked, shifting a little uncomfortably, his fingers brushing against the leather choker.

“Yeah, I go there all the time,” Hongjoong assured him. “We will fit right in, I promise.”

Seonghwa looked unsure, but he nodded.

“I mean, we may be a little too sexy in general, but that’s unavoidable,” Hongjoong said, chuckling at himself. He checked himself in the mirror, making sure all of his silver studs and earrings were secured. He had nine piercings, but he hadn’t changed out his jewelry since before the wedding, because he hadn’t been able to find the rest of it in his disorganized trunk until today. He adjusted his wedding ring, admiring how nice it actually looked on him, with its three sparkling diamonds inset into the white gold band. He would keep it on for now. There was no reason not to.

He suddenly remembered something and dashed over to his trunk. After a bit of digging around, he pulled out a couple of black leather studded masks that would cover most of their faces up to their eyes when worn. He handed one to Seonghwa, who stood near his own wardrobe pulling a small satchel over his shoulders.

“Put this in there for now,” he told the vampire, motioning to the satchel.

Seonghwa turned the mask over in his hands. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hongjoong told him with a wink. Seonghwa sighed in frustration, but he complied and tucked it away.

Hongjoong also grabbed the spare power cell he had stashed in his nightstand and stuffed it into his inner jacket pocket. He patted the silver knife sheathed beneath his jacket to be sure it was secure, checked his hair and red eyeshadow one last time in the mirror, then turned to Seonghwa with a satisfied grin. “Okay, let’s go!”

The old arcade building appeared even more run-down than the last time Hongjoong had seen it on Jongho’s birthday. The outside didn’t matter, though. What mattered was on the inside.

After a car ride chauffeured by San that had left them at the city limits, Hongjoong had led a reluctant Seonghwa to an automated tram car that took them deep into the heart of the City. He had wanted to just take a motorcycle in from the manor, but Seonghwa had seemed intensely uncomfortable with the idea. Hongjoong had relented that a car was fine, as long as he could still get Seonghwa out of the house.

They had made their way down many side streets and alleys, with Seonghwa getting progressively more tense and Hongjoong reassuring him as increasingly less people walked past them.

“I know you probably aren’t ready to be around a lot of people yet since you don’t really go out to the City,” Hongjoong told him, “So I had the idea to go here.” He opened the back-alley entrance to the building with the makeshift key Wooyoung had constructed after getting tired of lockpicking their way in every time. He had to jiggle it a little to make it work, but eventually, he was able to push the door open to reveal a long, dark hallway.

Seonghwa balked in the doorway, but Hongjoong reassured him that it would be okay. He removed a small flashlight from his coat and illuminated the hallway to show him it was empty. Seonghwa finally stepped inside, frowning more fiercely than he had all day as Hongjoong locked the door behind them.

Hongjoong led the reticent vampire into the main room of the arcade, then located the fuse box near the corner of the right wall. He held the flashlight between his teeth as he connected some wires to the power cell, then placed it inside and flipped the main switch.

Seonghwa jolted and backed into the hallway as the overhead lights flickered on. The machines began to light up, rebooting one by one with the occasional beep or boop or snippet of a tune. Hongjoong walked back to him and gently ushered him into the room.

“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure the vampire, “I just had to get everything powered up” The Coven’s new Sire was certainly jumpy as hell for a creature supposedly so deadly and powerful. Perhaps he didn’t know his own strength yet. He had only been Made a few years ago, after all.

Seonghwa grunted noncommittally as he glanced around at the myriad rows of colorful lights and chirping machines.

“What is this place?” he asked, his eyes beginning to light up with fascination as he took everything in. He stepped up to one of the machines and tilted his head curiously, inspecting the buttons and joysticks on the panel in front of him.

“It’s an arcade!” Hongjoong told him proudly. “My brothers and I come here sometimes. Wooyoung started it years ago when he broke in here with Jongho, who figured out how to get everything working. They surprised me for my birthday with arcade games and fresh fruit. Wooyoung even got Mingi to help him decorate the place.”

The corners of Seonghwa’s mouth twitched in what might have been a faint smile. “That sounds… nice. Your brothers must care a lot about you.” Hongjoong nodded, and his briefly recounted joy turned bittersweet. He missed them so much.

He tried to push those feelings away for the moment, saying, “Anyway, this one here is a street fighting game, if you want to try it.” He pointed at the machine in front of Seonghwa, where two pixelated fighters stood facing off, jumping back and forth eagerly in the ready position. “Jongho always kicks my ass at it, but I’m pretty good otherwise. Wooyoung always tries to cheat by kicking my legs in real life or distracting me somehow.”

“How do you play it?” Seonghwa asked. He mimicked Hongjoong’s hand placement on the joystick and buttons as Hongjoong explained. When he felt Seonghwa understood well enough, Hongjoong started the game.

For the first round, Hongjoong KO-ed Seonghwa’s fighter fairly quickly. But during the second round, Seonghwa seemed to get a better handle on the controls, and soon they were almost evenly matched. When both of their fighters’ health bars were nearing zero, Seonghwa moved his fighter forward to meet Hongjoong’s. He feinted the beginning of a low kick combo attack that Hongjoong attempted to block, then successfully KO-ed him with a simple kick to the face.

Hongjoong swore sharply under his breath, and Seonghwa quickly stepped back from the machine. The vampire’s stance shifted like he was ready to bolt, as if he was afraid that Hongjoong was genuinely angry.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he told Seonghwa, laughing and beckoning him back. “I just didn’t expect you to catch on so quickly.”

Seonghwa eyed him cautiously, then returned to the control panel for the third round.

“Now this is a much better way to fight when we are annoyed at each other, wouldn’t you say?” Hongjoong asked, winking as he hit the Start button to begin the final round.

“I think that, yes, I do prefer this,” Seonghwa replied, with amusement tugging on the corners of his lips as he guided his fighter in for an attack. The round was a close call, but in the end, Seonghwa pulled through and defeated him again.

Hongjoong scowled, then exhaled forcefully as the victor was declared to be Player 2. “Ah, I must be having an off day.” He inspected his wrist, as if it had betrayed him and that was the problem.

It was then, for the first time ever, that Seonghwa smiled at him. It seemed like the world stopped for a moment. Hongjoong forgot all of the excuses for his poor performance that he had been about to utter, and his mind went completely blank.

“Are you a sore loser, husband?” Seonghwa asked, tilting his head.

“Mmm,” Hongjoong mumbled. “Maybe.”

“Then why did you bring me to an arcade?”

“Because I thought I would win everything.”

Seonghwa covered his mouth and giggled softly.

Hongjoong felt his stomach flip unexpectedly. His jaw dropped just a little, and his mind raced back to the photograph he had found of a young Seonghwa looking so happy in the sunlight. Was Seonghwa still capable of such happiness? He decided that he definitely wanted to find out. Even if that meant he had to lose a few more arcade games.

He would never throw a game, of course— he was too competitive for that. But Seonghwa seemed like a very fast learner.

“Let’s go check out the pinball machines,” Hongjoong told him.

After an hour or two, they had played most of the arcade games, with Seonghwa winning the majority of them.

“Maybe I just have a natural advantage,” Seonghwa suggested when he noticed Hongjoong trying not to sulk after losing another round of skeeball. “My reflexes are heightened.”

“Maybe I just suck at this,” Hongjoong complained. Seonghwa turned his head away, but Hongjoong caught him suffocating another giggle.

“What?” Hongjoong asked, unable to frown while Seonghwa was acting like this. Being so… normal.

“It’s just that,” Seonghwa stifled a smile, “I think I’m having fun? I don’t even remember the last time… anyways, um, thank you.”

Hongjoong felt pleased with himself. “You’re very welcome.”

They walked up to another machine containing a creepy-looking animatronic wizard labeled Merlin The Fortune Teller. “I don’t think this one is a game,” Hongjoong said, “It spits out a paper with your ‘fortune’ or something on it,” he explained. “It’s always something dumb when I do it.”

“I want to try it,” Seonghwa said, pushing the button. They both leaned away from the machine as the animatronic began to move and speak in a screechy electronic voice about how it was going to peer into the mysteries of the cosmos and tell them their future written in the stars.

“Enough already, spit it out,” Hongjoong chided it as it continued its speech. He rolled his eyes and tossed his head back dramatically, and Seonghwa covered his mouth with his hand. After half a minute or so, a tiny printed paper like one would find in an old-fashioned fortune cookie popped out of a slot below the crystal ball.

Seonghwa snatched the paper and read it out loud:

Today’s lucky numbers are 19, 9, 12, 13, 14, 12

“That really bothers me that the numbers are out of order,” Seonghwa muttered. “And one even repeats itself.”

“Yeah, it’s always something like that,” Hongjoong said, rolling his eyes again.

Seonghwa read the next part:

To keep the peace may mean to forfeit your own

Seonghwa’s face went blank and he said, “You’re right, this thing is dumb.”

Hongjoong rubbed his temple in frustration as Seonghwa shrugged and shoved the paper into his pocket. “I did warn you. But I guess I’ll try it too,” Hongjoong said, tapping the button and hoping he would get something stupid to make Seonghwa smile again.

His fortune read:

Today’s lucky numbers are 10, 5, 12, 19, 10

“Hey, we have a lot of the same numbers,” Hongjoong observed.

“Still out of order, though,” Seonghwa said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Hongjoong read the next part:

True love is right around the corner

Hongjoong laughed. Seonghwa did not. The vampire frowned as Hongjoong crumpled the paper and tossed it on the floor.

“Well, that was stupid, as predicted,” he said, not looking at Seonghwa. “Oh! Let’s try the claw machine!”

Seonghwa glanced back at the paper on the floor, then back to Hongjoong. “What’s a claw machine?”

“I’ll show you!”

Hongjoong stepped up to the glass-paneled machine and tapped on the glass with his index finger. “You see that claw thing in there?”

Seonghwa nodded solemnly, studying the claw and the vast assortment of cutesy stuffed animals piled in the lower half of the machine.

“You’ve got to use the claw to pick up a prize. But it has a really weak grip and basically it’s terrible, so you have to sort of outsmart it,” Hongjoong explained.

Seonghwa nodded again, looking determined. “Okay, show me how.”

Hongjoong started the machine, and maneuvered the claw over the stuffed animals inside, trying to find the best one to grab.

“Oh, that little pink rabbit is cute,” Seonghwa said suddenly, pointing towards a pale pink doe-eyed rabbit lodged near the back corner.

Hongjoong changed his target. He was going to get the damn rabbit.

His first and second attempts failed. When he had one try remaining, the machine lights began flashing unexpectedly, and Hongjoong said, “Oh no, my power cell is probably malfunctioning.”

“Hurry!” Seonghwa urged, putting his nose to the glass, zoned in on the bunny.

“I’m going, just let me concentrate!” Hongjoong shushed him. The claw stopped moving when it was almost directly over the rabbit. He smacked the machine angrily, and the claw miraculously began moving again.

“You’re right over it!” Seonghwa said excitedly.

“Just a little to the left,” Hongjoong muttered to himself, adjusting the claw slightly to give it the best chance of snagging the rabbit. This was going to be a close one.

He pressed the Drop button, and crossed his fingers, grimacing.

The claw snagged the rabbit, and Seonghwa whooped with excitement. Hongjoong was actually surprised his strategy had worked, and he continued watching to make sure the large pink plushie wouldn’t fall on the way over to the prize chute. When the claw released the rabbit into the chute, Hongjoong let out a victorious yell, and he and Seonghwa jumped and clapped together like they’d won a competitive sport.

For a moment, Hongjoong felt like this could have been just another day having fun at the arcade with his brothers. He watched Seonghwa’s elated expression as the vampire pulled the plushie from the chute and held it up to his face.

“It’s so cute,” he said, blushing to nearly the same shade of pink as the rabbit’s fur. Hongjoong had the insane urge to poke his pretty little cheeks right there. That kind of thought needed to go away. Immediately. Buried deep where he could never find it again.

Seonghwa offered the plushie to Hongjoong, but Hongjoong said, “Keep it. It’s your first arcade trip. You should have something to remember it by.”

Hongjoong didn’t quite know how to interpret Seonghwa’s stunned expression, but he hoped it was a good thing.

“Wow. Um, thank you,” Seonghwa said, giving Hongjoong a polite little bow.

“Stop that, you more than earned a prize tonight,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle. “I don’t think even Jongho has ever kicked my ass as badly as you did tonight. Maybe it’s time for me to retire.”

Seonghwa’s black eyes studied him, glittering with the flashing lights of the arcade. Hongjoong swallowed uneasily, his gaze falling to Seonghwa’s pouty lips. He wondered how many people the vampire had kissed. If he drank the blood of his familiars when they…

The lights suddenly died around them as the power went out, and Hongjoong snapped out of whatever trance he had been in. This night had him thinking like a fool.

He pulled out his flashlight and switched it on.

“Guess that means it’s time for us to go,” he said as Seonghwa carefully tucked the bunny into his satchel. “But one more thing. It’s time to put on our masks.”

After they arrived back at the manor, Hongjoong offered to sleep on the sofa if Seonghwa wanted to stay in the master quarters, since it was nearly 3am.

Seonghwa thought about it for a long moment, then said, “I think I’ll try to sleep in here with you.”

Hongjoong actually felt relieved that Seonghwa seemed to have forgiven him for the incident a couple of days ago. It wasn’t that he wanted Seonghwa to sleep in the same bed as him, but he didn’t want the vampire ignoring and avoiding him either. If Seonghwa started sleeping in here again, perhaps he would eventually be willing to talk to Hongjoong about more things, and to answer his questions.

While Seonghwa used the bathing chamber to get changed, Hongjoong stripped his clothes and shoes off and pulled on his pajamas. He glanced uncertainly at the pile of things he had discarded all over the floor, recalling Seonghwa’s reaction to the disaster he had created before. He stooped and quickly gathered everything, then stuffed all of it in his trunk to deal with later.

He hoped that his brothers would find the message he had left for them in the arcade, wedged into their hiding spot in the broken pinball machine. It wasn’t as if Hongjoong didn’t trust San, but he had wanted to personally leave a backup message. Just in case.

After donning their masks, he and Seonghwa had graffitied a pink smiley face with x’s for eyes on the front of the boarded up arcade, then had dashed away before they could be spotted. Seonghwa had no idea that it was a sign for the Hunters to check inside the arcade for messages, and Hongjoong intended to keep it that way. The vampire had thought that they were just having a bit of fun, or maybe that Hongjoong was insane. Or both. That worked for Hongjoong.

As he and Seonghwa climbed into their respective sides of the bed, Seonghwa glanced at him tentatively, then he began to line up pillows between them, as he had before. His expression looked almost apologetic.

Hongjoong reached for a couple more pillows, placing them alongside the others to help Seonghwa complete the wall of his little nest. His hand accidentally brushed against Seonghwa’s as they both reached for the same pillow to fill in the last spot.

“Uh, sorry,” Seonghwa whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong replied, clasping his hands together to keep himself from reaching back out to him. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.” Seonghwa nodded and averted his gaze.

Hongjoong studied the vampire’s face. When free of makeup, Seonghwa definitely appeared younger and more fragile than usual. The dim light of his nightstand lamp accentuated his unnaturally pale skin in stark contrast with his long, dark eyelashes.

Hongjoong recalled his mother’s warning from the eve of his wedding— Never forget that he was Made to be a killer. Hongjoong wanted to believe that Seonghwa was different. He had seen a softer, more lighthearted side to the vampire tonight, and maybe… maybe there was some hope for them to at least get along and learn to live with each other.

Seonghwa turned off his lamp and lay down. He faced away from Hongjoong and drew his woven blanket up over his head, so that only a shock of white hair poked up onto his pillow.

“Goodnight,” Hongjoong whispered, shutting his lamp off and closing his eyes. He mentally reviewed the bars of the song he had composed earlier over and over until he managed to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

It had been nearly two weeks since the wedding, and Mingi felt like he was going insane.

He hadn’t been able to sleep tonight. He’d finally given up and gone to search for some of Wooyoung’s dinner leftovers in the kitchen, when he spotted Jongho sitting outside on one of the deck chairs. It was a clear moonlit night, and their young Captain was sipping coffee and taking in the view overlooking the peaceful forest that surrounded their cabin.

Mingi took a seat in one of the chairs next to him and dug into the leftovers. Jongho acknowledged him with a nod, then slipped back into his reverie, lost in his own thoughts.

After consuming a few mouthfuls of his food, Mingi asked, “Do you think the seniors have just been giving us ‘busy work’?” When Jongho finally turned his head to acknowledge him, Mingi continued, “I feel like the Commander is keeping us out of the loop. Maybe because this is so close to Cap— Hongjoong’s… uh, situation.” Saying his former Captain’s full name like that still felt a little disrespectful.

Jongho sighed, threading his fingers through his thick chestnut brown hair. It always looked perfectly combed somehow. “I’m not sure,” Jongho told him. “I think we should go into the city tomorrow and do some scouting of our own. Something feels wrong about all of this. Mom– I mean, the Commander hasn’t made contact for a few days now, which is a little worrying. But I also refuse to believe that Hongjoong wouldn’t have sent us some kind of message by now.”

“Me too,” Mingi murmured. “Something feels off. I want to check some of the message drop points, just in case.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Jongho agreed. “We can stay at the safehouse apartment in City center for a few days while we split up to check the drop points. I’ll send Wooyoung to the manor first, but they probably won’t let him in.”

“He’s good at finding his way into places he shouldn’t,” Mingi said, smiling cheekily.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

Jongho seemed deep in thought for a moment, then said, “I think I’ll send a message to the new Coven leader too. Maybe Wooyoung can deliver it directly. If one of the Coven is intercepting messages meant for Hongjoong, maybe they won’t keep one away from their new Sire. It could even be him that’s doing the intercepting. In which case he will probably still want to read what we have to say.”

Mingi nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. I hope Hongjoong’s weirdass husband isn’t keeping him from communicating with us on purpose. If I find out that he is, my fist would like to have a word with the bastard’s face.”

“Not if I get to him first.”

Mingi smiled. “I’ll let you have the first punch, but after that he’s mine. I killed my first feral vampire at fifteen, so I think I could handle a soft spoiled prick like that easily.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“I wouldn’t be so stupid as to let my guard down,” Mingi grumbled. “Even if I know I can take him.”

Jongho grunted in agreement and sipped his coffee. Mingi took that as a sign that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, so when he finished his food, he stood and said, “Well, g’night, boss.”

“Goodnight Mingi. Sleep well.”

The next morning, Mingi and Jongho traveled to the City and split up to search the sectors for messages.

Jongho sent Wooyoung to visit the Coven at the manor and try to get through to Hongjoong, or at least deliver the letter to Seonghwa. The vampire manor was notoriously closed off to visitors, related or not, which was annoying but not impossible to circumvent. If you had a Wooyoung, that is.

The City was divided into twelve sectors like the face of a clock, with a central section referred to simply as City Center. There apparently had been more defined separations between the sectors including walls several decades back, but most of that was no longer standing.

Mingi was assigned to start in Sector 7 and work his way up to Sector 9 over the next few days. Jongho and Wooyoung, when he returned from the manor, would split up sectors 4 through 6 and 10 through 12.

Sectors 1 through 3 were off limits. No Hunters went into the Wolves territory except under extreme necessity or during Treaty negotiations.

Mingi spent most of the morning traveling to and searching the drop points in sector 7, finding nothing at any of them. He took a slight detour to the ruins of the giant fountain in an overgrown park he liked to visit. There he stopped to sit and relax a bit as he devoured a weird but tasty burrito that he and Wooyoung had made out of random leftovers. He wondered what it had been like, so many years ago before the world had fallen apart. He thought that he would like to see a fountain someday, one that was actually operational with real water and everything.

There was one in the front courtyard of the Coven’s manor, but it probably hadn’t been running because it was too cold right now. Or maybe it never did run. Mingi had no idea. He had only been to the manor for the yearly Treaty negotiations and the wedding, which all had taken place in winter.

He finished his food, wishing he had packed an extra Woo-rrito for the road. He would be sure to do so tomorrow. He scanned his surroundings to ensure that he hadn’t been followed, then departed for Sector 8.

After another unsuccessful search of the drop zones in Sector 8, Mingi made one more stop at a small shop on one of the narrow side streets. A little bell tinkled overhead as he entered, and Mingi remembered to duck at the last moment so it wouldn’t smack him in the forehead.

The shop itself was barely that. If Mingi stretched his arms out fully, he could reach the shelves on either side of the room— makeshift wooden boards that were piled a bit haphazardly with various necessities such as soaps, basic medical kits, power cells in dubious condition, and scavenged canned goods.

Mingi frowned when someone he didn’t recognize strolled out of the back room and stepped up to the small counter. He pulled his hat a little lower to cast a deeper shadow on his face, disguising the gesture as a greeting. “Good afternoon,” he greeted a small blonde-haired woman, who looked him up and down with a barely concealed wonderment that quickly turned into careful appraisal.

Mingi was used to this kind of reaction when meeting new people. They always commented on how big he was, and how jarring his gravelly voice was in contrast to his strikingly strong yet pretty facial features. Even though he was quite tall and broad-shouldered, Mingi had a slim waist and thick hips and thighs, so his abnormal largeness along with his dramatic proportions tended to draw attention. Even when he covered his body in a gigantic coat.

“Do you uh, know if I can speak to Leo?” he asked as he glanced surreptitiously around the shop for signs of anything unusual. The woman didn’t seem nervous, but you could never be too careful about these things.

“Leo’s off on a supply run,” she told him, wiping her hands on a rag that she stuffed back into her coveralls. “What can I do for you, gorgeous?”

Mingi sighed and leaned forward on the counter, lowering his voice, “I’m here for a special order. For nightingale.” He watched the woman’s face for any signs of recognition of the code phrase.

The woman pursed her lips and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no more of that here. Supply chain’s all dried up. Gonna be a while, if ever, for us to get our hands on more.”

Mingi felt his stomach twist with dread. “Are you sure? Can you double check the back? I can pay extra, if that’s what you want.”

The woman gave him a sympathetic smile. “There’s not any more, I’m sure, sweetie, but you can try Ford over on 7th and Green in Sector 12. Little street food vendor, sells all that fried shit. Tell him Leo or Kima sent ya. It’ll cost you extra though. Supply chain has been totally fucked lately.”

Mingi suppressed a growl of frustration and thanked her.

“Good luck,” she called as he walked out.

It was beginning to get dark now. Too dark to be out on the streets safely in Sector 12, so close to the Wolves’ territory. He would have to wait until tomorrow.

As one of the dominant factions in this City, the Wolves were often considered the weakest of the three that also included the Vampire Coven and the Hunters. But Mingi knew better. The Wolves could be vicious and should never be underestimated. They were termed such because of their ancestors’ abilities to shapeshift, and their rituals of hunting by moonlight. But that ability had long been lost as the shapeshifter Wolves had interbred with Humans. Now there just remained the Alphas, who made up about one third of the Wolves, but were the most powerful, skilled, and often possessed special abilities, the Betas, who were pretty much like normal humans, but with slightly enhanced senses, and the Omegas.

Omegas were the rarest of all, making up around one in five of the Wolves population, if that, but they were essential for breeding if an Alpha wished to have the best chance at passing on their genetic abilities. Mingi had once heard that, eventually, all Wolves would become Betas if the Wolves stopped breeding with Omegas and continued interbreeding with humans. Mingi hoped that would happen. He hoped Omegas became a thing of the past, so that eventually no one else would have to go through anything like what he’d had to.

On his way back to City Center, Mingi punched the side of an obsolete bus stop in frustration, putting a substantial dent into the aluminum siding along with breaking the skin on his knuckles. It helped him feel just a little bit better.

He would stop by Sector 12 tomorrow after he had searched Sector 9. Sector 12 was technically assigned to Wooyoung, but Mingi’s sneaky little brother probably wouldn’t make it up that way until the day after tomorrow, since he would have gotten a late start today after visiting the manor.

Mingi knew that Jongho wouldn’t approve of him going so close to Wolves’ territory on his own, but this was something he needed to do. Something nobody but Hongjoong and the Commander had known about.

Sure, Jongho and Wooyoung knew that Mingi had been kidnapped by a Wolf trafficking ring as a young boy because he was an Omega. But they didn’t know about his heat. Or more precisely, his lack of a heat. They had just chalked it up to him being some kind of genetic mutation that he didn’t go through a regular heat cycle like most Omegas. Because that’s what Mingi had led them to believe.

Being a huge Omega who looked more like what people assumed was the standard depiction of an Alpha had its blessings and its curses. Of his brothers, only Hongjoong knew that Mingi had been taking suppressants for years to stave off his heat from ever occurring again.

Mingi had never wanted to tell the others because it wasn’t necessary in his opinion, but also because it was too personal. It was something he hated about himself. A part that he wanted to bury in the past and leave there forever. Except he couldn’t. Because without suppressants, his heat would return. And each time he had experienced it before had been a living hell.

After he had been rescued by the Hunters, it had only happened twice. The first was during his third month as a junior Hunter at the age of thirteen— Hongjoong had found him in a frenzy and had taken him on a week-long ‘vacation’ to one of the City safehouses after they had figured out what was going on.

Hongjoong had gone out scouring the City and had managed to acquire the heat suppressing drugs, but they hadn’t been as effective as they should have been since Mingi’s heat had already begun. The drugs had at least deterred it from getting much worse, and Mingi had survived it. But he had been devastated and extremely embarrassed. He had hoped that living so far removed from any Alphas would keep his heat at bay. But that hadn’t been the case.

Afterwards, Mingi and Hongjoong had returned and explained to the Commander what had happened. Everyone else had been told that the two of them had been given a covert scouting mission that had kept them away for a while. The Commander had given Mingi and Hongjoong permission to go on occasional supply runs to the city for suppressants, as long as they stayed clear of the Wolves’ territory. Mingi had been forever grateful to Hongjoong for his support. He didn’t know how he would have survived without him.

The second heat had occurred when he was seventeen. He had run out of suppressants, and just like today, the supply from his usual seller had dried up. Hongjoong had to take him to one of the rarely used safehouses in Sector 8, as far away from any Wolves as he could get him before Mingi could no longer travel.

He had been feverish and felt like he was dying with need– a need only an Alpha could fill. And it had gotten so much worse than the first time. The first time had been a mild annoyance in comparison.

Hongjoong had done his best to make some herbal concoction they had been told could help take the edge off, but it hadn’t been enough. The first day of his heat had passed by in a blur, and they had even resorted to tying Mingi to the bed at his own request while Hongjoong slept so Mingi wouldn’t run off in search of an Alpha. On the second day, when Hongjoong had gone out to search for suppressants again, Mingi had found a tranquilizer gun in the safe house and used it on himself in an act of desperation.

Upon his return, Hongjoong had been horrified to find Mingi sprawled in the middle of the floor with a tranquilizer dart in his chest. After Mingi had recovered for a few hours, Hongjoong had scolded him furiously about the danger he had put himself in, and for making Hongjoong think the worst had happened. To this day, that was the most angry Mingi had ever seen his Captain.

Hongjoong had made him promise to never do that again, and Mingi had agreed. He never wanted to disappoint his Captain like that again. And he never wanted to go through that experience again.

He couldn’t.

He refused to.

Especially after what Hongjoong had done to try to help him after that incident. Mingi still felt confused and embarrassed about it, and they hadn’t spoken of it since. Still, the memories of that day with Hongjoong clung to him, as inescapable as his own shadow.

Ever since then, Mingi had usually kept an extra supply of suppressants stocked up, just in case. But lately, the supply had been hard to come by, and Mingi had been distracted by the looming fate that was Hongjoong’s upcoming wedding and the resultant Ceremony. Mingi had wanted to spend as much time as possible with his beloved Captain before he had to go away to fulfill his duty, changing all of their lives forever.

Mingi had promised Hongjoong that he would look after himself, that he wouldn’t let his supply get too low. But time had seemed to fly by at an unimaginable pace. He mentally berated himself for being so stupid, for letting it get this close. He would remedy this tomorrow. He would go to Sector 12 after he finished his sweep of Sector 9, and all would be well.

It was going to be okay.

Mingi’s dreams that night were not okay.

He was back in that fucking hole in the ground.

Again.

He had managed to wriggle his bound hands from behind his back to in front of him, but if he reached up towards the gag enforcer device that was locked around his face, the control collar would shock him, and he would drop to the ground from the pain and loss of muscle control.

He had heard several more people return above them an hour or so after all the gunshots. Or maybe it had only been a few minutes. He had lost all sense of time down here. The people above them didn’t know that Mingi and the other two Omegas were trapped down here, beneath a camouflaged door that would look like any other patch of grass to the casual observer.

The other two boys sat frightened, huddled on the floors, having been beaten until they were half-conscious. It was up to Mingi to get the people’s attention. He hoped they were friendly. It couldn’t get much worse than this.

Mingi lifted his heavily bruised arms and jumped, attempting to punch the underside of the trap door with his fists. If he leapt as high as he could, he just barely was able to make a thump against the door.

He needed them to hear him. To come investigate. The hole itself was fairly well soundproofed from the outside, but if he could keep thumping against the hatch itself… his fists made contact.

Thud.

The control collar activated.

He dropped to the ground, writhing in pain, his screams muffled by the gag enforcer.

When the fireworks in his brain stopped, he leaned against the wall for support and stood shakily back to his feet.

Then he jumped again.

Thud.

Pain.

Agony.

He forced himself onto his feet again.

He had done this twelve times before they had found him. Wooyoung and Hongjoong– his guardian angels that were destined to become his family.

But in this nightmare, they would never find him. Mingi just kept trying. And falling. And trying. And falling.

This is how it always went.

He began to panic.

They couldn’t hear him.

He was never going to be found.

He was never going to get out of this hole in the ground.

Mingi woke up gasping, nearly hyperventilating, and lay there for a long time concentrating solely on regaining control of his breathing, like Hongjoong had taught him.

He missed his Captain so much.

He tried to muffle his sobs with his pillow, but Wooyoung, who had been sleeping in the bed on the other side of the room, must have heard him.

He felt the smaller man slide under the blanket next to him, and Wooyoung’s arms wrapped around him, comforting him wordlessly. His scent was always warm and inviting, rich and sweet, like a slice of chocolate cake. Mingi breathed deeply, relaxing into his scent.

“You’re safe. You’re with us,” Wooyoung whispered to him, over and over.

Mingi clung to Wooyoung, burying his head under the blankets and resting his cheek against Wooyoung’s chest. He listened to the soothing sound of his brother’s heartbeat until he faded back into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Wooyoung leaned casually against a wall and bit into a stolen apple with a loud crunch, savoring the sweetness of the luxurious fruit. He had saved for weeks to purchase a few of these along with some other fruits for Hongjoong’s birthday not long ago. Meanwhile, the filthy rich vampires had baskets full of them sitting freshly washed and untouched in their kitchens. The bloodsuckers didn’t even eat fruit, as far as Wooyoung knew, so it was probably for their familiars or something. They were a bunch of assholes for hoarding it like this, so Wooyoung had helped himself to a couple of them, along with a few other shiny things he had found along the way. He stood in one of the many maze-like corridors of the vampire manor, munching the fruit happily until San, the hot familiar he had met at the wedding, rounded the corner.

Wooyoung had been waiting for him.

San halted abruptly at the sight of Wooyoung, then tilted his head curiously and said, “I didn’t know we were letting stray cats in today.”

An exaggerated sulk fell over Wooyoung’s face as he hastily ran his fingers through his silky black hair. Today’s rain had mussed it up a bit, but he was reasonably sure he still looked handsome as ever. He lifted his chin and assumed a haughty grin.

“Hello, San-ah.”

San blinked in mild surprise at the casual use of his name, then arched a bemused eyebrow. “How the hell did you get in here?” he asked.

Wooyoung bit into the apple and grinned, tipping his head in the general direction of the main entrance. “Front door was open,” he said, his speech garbled by the mouthful of fruit.

“My ass, it was,” San replied, crossing his arms. “What do you want?”

Wooyoung pushed off the wall and faced San directly. “I need to speak with the Captain.”

“There’s no Captain of yours here.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and leaned in closer to San’s face, tracing the familiar’s chiseled jaw lightly with one finger. “You know who I mean.”

San stared skeptically at Wooyoung through his spectacles, and Wooyoung stood up a little straighter so that they were nearly eye to eye. He was wearing boots with a bit of a heel on them today. San replied, “I don’t know where he is right now. And you shouldn’t be here. Master Hongjoong is not a Hunter anymore.”

Wooyoung glowered at him. San smiled smugly and continued, “I can’t just let you hang around in here… even if you are very cute. For a stray, that is.”

Wooyoung’s frustration dissipated somewhat as San flirted back with him. He softened his expression as he swiped the back of his fingers provocatively down the side of San’s arm, secretly satisfied that the attraction seemed to be mutual. “C’mon, beautiful, can’t you just take me to his room or something?” Wooyoung studied San’s reaction carefully and added, “Maybe I’ll even give you a treat, if you’re good.”

A rosy blush spread over San’s cheeks. Wooyoung held back a smile, tilting his head in anticipation of San’s answer.

San took a deep breath and clasped his hands professionally in front of himself in a servant’s waiting stance. “Thank you, kittycat, but my Master feeds me well. I don’t need any mystery treats.”

“That’s too bad,” Wooyoung assumed his most distracting pouty face, pushing his bottom lip out as he surreptitiously reached for his butterfly knife. The vampires that lived here were off limits, but the Treaty didn’t mention their familiars. Wooyoung had no intention of killing San, but if he had to put a couple of holes in him to get through to Hongjoong, then he would do what was necessary.

“You’re missing out. My treats are always fun,” Wooyoung continued, “And it’s Mr. Nightmare, to you.” He snapped the blade out in one smooth movement.

San was ready for him this time, not hesitating to sweep out his leg in attempt to knock Wooyoung off balance. The kick narrowly missed as Wooyoung leapt backwards, brandishing his knife with a wild grin.

“So you’re not just for display, that’s good to know,” Wooyoung said with a mischievous wink. San unbuttoned his tailored coat briskly and shrugged his shoulders so that it dropped to the floor behind him and he stood in just his white shirtsleeves. Wooyoung whistled, looking him up and down. “Okay, do the shirt next,” he taunted, sticking out his tongue.

A faint smile played across San’s lips as he assumed a defensive stance and beckoned at Wooyoung with one hand, like some insane kind of martial arts master. Adrenaline coursed through Wooyoung’s veins, invigorating him. This was the most fun he’d had on a mission in ages.

Wooyoung leapt forward nimbly and swung with his knife, but San moved deftly aside. He responded with a roundhouse kick aimed at Wooyoung’s face, and Wooyoung ducked. The air over his head whooshed and ruffled his hair as the kick narrowly missed him.

Wooyoung charged at him with several more knife jabs, but San dodged each strike with a swift sureness, not even seeming to break a sweat.

“Is that all you got for me?” San goaded him, smiling sweetly.

“Come find out,” Wooyoung tossed his head scornfully, shaking his hair out of his eyes. San grinned before diving directly at him, ducking under his frantic knife swing. Wooyung felt like his chest was being crushed as he was tackled to the floor and all the breath was knocked out of him. He lost his grip on the blade with the impact. The familiar was built like a brick wall.

Wooyoung let out a frustrated little squeal, wriggling frantically beneath him and stretching his hand towards the knife, which lay just out of reach.

“Give it up, kittycat,” San told him, driving Wooyoung’s shoulders into the floor and planting his ass firmly on Wooyoung’s torso, pinning the smaller man’s legs between his own.

“Hey now, at least buy me a drink first,” Wooyoung teased, fluttering his eyelashes coquetishly. He was of the firm belief that he could flirt his way out of any situation. San gazed down at Wooyoung, his eyes widening in fascination.

The familiar’s solid bulk should have been more than enough to hold Wooyoung’s slender frame down, but Wooyoung was nimble, and his appearance belied his strength. He blew a kiss at San, then rolled his body violently sideways, throwing San off balance. He lunged for his knife, just managing to grasp the handle as San flipped him onto his back again.

He pointed the blade at San’s chest. San sighed, but raised his palms in reluctant surrender. Wooyoung slid out from beneath him and stood up, keeping the tip of the knife aimed carefully at San.

With his free hand, he flourished a small ring of keys he had managed to swipe from San’s trousers pocket. “These yours?” he asked, shaking them playfully like one would a toy for a pet or a small child.

San feigned a lunge forward and Wooyoung stepped backwards quickly, tutting and gesturing with his blade for the familiar to keep his distance, “Tsk, tsk, they’re mine now. Stay back, pretty boy.” San’s jaw twitched and his stance shifted, like a coil preparing to spring as he looked for an opening.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor behind him drew Wooyoung’s attention for a split second, and San took the opportunity to lunge at him again. The familiar feinted then whirled past him, his movements precisely controlled like that of a dancer, and grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist that clutched the blade. San wrenched the captive wrist behind Wooyoung’s back and slammed him against the wall.

Wooyoung let out a pained yelp as San twisted his arm until he dropped the knife once more. He squirmed ineffectively against San’s vice-like grip as the familiar dug flagrantly into his left trouser pocket and snatched back the stolen key ring.

“C’mon, San-ah, don’t be like this! It’s only our second date!” he whined.

“Do you ever stop yapping?” San asked. There was a faint tinge of amusement in his tone, which was otherwise annoyed.

“No, I was born like this,” Wooyoung sulked. The palm of San’s other hand pressed firmly between his shoulders so that his fingertips grazed the tip of Wooyoung’s neck.

“Your hands are strangely soft for a fighting machine,” Wooyoung remarked, in attempt to get San to let his guard down.

“It’s called self-care,” San countered, “You should try it sometime.”

“Who is this now?” a voice that Wooyoung somewhat recognized asked from behind them. He tried to turn his neck to see who it was, but San grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face indelicately against the wall.

“Go easy on the face!” Wooyoung’s grumble was muffled as San pushed against his face even harder.

“Just a stray cat up to no good,” San told the stranger, grunting with effort as Wooyoung writhed against him. “He’s one of the Hunters from the wedding. Said he wants to speak with Master Hongjoong.”

“Oh, yes, I remember now,” the voice responded, low in tone but soft and lilting. “The uh, chaotic drunk who stole your key.”

“The very same.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung protested. “I am not a drunk! I just happened to be drunk at the time.” San chuckled at this, and Wooyoung shifted his feet back slightly so that his body brushed against San’s. Talented as he may be, the familiar had made the mistake of leaving Wooyoung’s left arm relatively free— Wooyoung could work with that.

Just gotta wear ‘em down until they make a stupid move. Works every damn time.

San drove his hips against Wooyoung’s ass in response to the smaller man inching backwards, and Wooyoung found himself now completely pinned against the wall.

“Be gentle, it’s my first time,” Wooyoung said, assuming a more sensual tone.

“You see what I have to deal with?” San told the stranger, sounding exasperated.

“Wow,” the other person chuckled softly. “Get rid of him. Now.”

“Of course, Master Yeosang.”

San dragged Wooyoung out the front door, down the long drive, and towards the enormous wrought-iron entry gates that opened into the sprawling manor grounds. Wooyoung tried to make it as difficult as possible for him by wriggling furiously until they were halfway down the drive, then going completely limp so that San had to lift his dead weight. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to bother the man at all. San just lifted him and tossed him almost effortlessly over one broad shoulder for the rest of the way, then deposited him on his ass in the gravel just outside the gates.

Wooyoung stood and dusted himself off as the gates clanged shut behind San. The spectacled familiar smiled at him sanctimoniously from the other side of the iron bars.

Wooyoung pretended to be upset, glowering at San and inspecting his own clothing for damage. “Not a very nice way to end our date,” he said sullenly, dusting off his black leather jacket. “I’ll have to teach you some manners next time.” He leveled a suggestive gaze at the familiar.

San blushed slightly and inclined his head in a cordial bow. “I look forward to it, my little nightmare.”

“I’ll see you again soon, my dear San-ah.”

Wooyoung whirled away and stalked down the road before San could see the satisfied grin spreading across his face. When he was far enough away, he began to hum a jaunty tune as he flipped another stolen key back and forth across his knuckles. It was somewhat larger than the others and a bit more weighty, and Wooyoung suspected it had some sort of electronic mechanism hidden inside. He would have to inspect it at his workbench later to see what kind of interesting internal security system the vampires had in their manor.

He had also managed to slip the two letters that Jongho had written to Hongjoong and the new vampire Sire into San’s pocket. The familiar would find them soon enough. Even if he didn’t deliver the one for Hongjoong, he would hopefully still deliver the one intended for his master.

The memory of San’s blushing pink cheeks and the sensation of his fingertips against the back of Wooyoung’s neck haunted his thoughts for the rest of the day.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong was trapped in another gruesome dream about the Ceremony– and this time it was Seonghwa who sank his fangs into Hongjoong’s neck. He couldn’t breathe. He was drowning in a river of his own blood with his husband at his throat.

Hongjoong jolted awake to find his body drenched in a cold sweat.

He tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, like he helped Mingi do when he had his night terrors.

It wasn’t real.

He glanced around the room. He was alone. He reached a hand up to his neck, just in case. The skin was smooth and undamaged. He felt like an idiot as he poked his teeth, relieved to find no fangs.

It wasn’t real.

He pulled his knees to his chest and held back a sob.

It wasn’t real.

He was going to throw up.

He stumbled out of the bed and into the bathing chamber, locating the alcove in the back with the toilet and falling to his knees.

He didn’t know how long he had been laying there when San’s voice called out to him, “Master Hongjoong! What happened? Please wake up!”

Hongjoong couldn’t move. Strong arms lifted him from the cold tile floor and carried him towards the bedroom.

When Hongjoong opened his eyes again, he had been tucked snugly back into the enormous bed. Seonghwa sat reading in an armchair that had been moved beside the bed to face Hongjoong. The vampire looked up when Hongjoong stirred, then placed a ribbon between the pages and set the book aside. His eyebrows knitted together with concern.

Hongjoong attempted to sit up, but he only made it halfway before he was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He felt entirely too hot, and he could feel beads of sweat clinging to his temples and forehead and dripping down his chest.

He accidentally groaned out loud when a sharp pang shot through his stomach, and Seonghwa sprang to his feet. Before Hongjoong could protest, Seonghwa grabbed one of their numerous pillows and carefully propped Hongjoong up as he placed it behind him. Hongjoong fell back against the pillow, embarrassed at his own feebleness. The place where Seonghwa’s hand had touched his back seemed even warmer than everywhere else, as if Hongjoong could still feel the vampire’s hand there, lingering. He reached up to feel his own cheeks and forehead with the back of his hand. They were burning hot.

“I think maybe… I could be sick…” he rasped. “I don’t know what–”

Seonghwa interrupted him, “You’ve got a fever. I sent San into the City to retrieve some remedies for you. In the meantime, I brought you some citrus tea and ginseng chicken soup.” He gestured at a flowery porcelain teacup and a steaming soup bowl that had been placed on Hongjoong’s nightstand.

Seonghwa wrung his hands as he glanced down at Hongjoong. “It’s what my mother used to make me when I got sick as a child,” he explained. “It will have to do until San returns.”

Hongjoong blinked up at him as his dizziness subsided for the moment. “You didn’t need to,” he told the vampire. “I’ll be okay. Just need to rest a little longer.” He reached for his watch on the bedside table and squinted at the time. “Oh, no,” he whispered. It was 5pm.

“You’ve been asleep for most of the day,” Seonghwa told him, furrowing his brow. “San found you passed out on the floor when he came in with breakfast.”

Hongjoong winced as his stomach tightened painfully. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything left in there. Where had Seonghwa been this morning? Had he left again before Hongjoong woke up? Had he even spent the night in their bedchamber? Hongjoong didn’t have the energy to ask right now.

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed again as Hongjoong clutched his stomach. He offered Hongjoong the teacup. “Try to drink some of this.”

Hongjoong grimaced, but he took the cup from Seonghwa and drank. He had already consumed a substantial amount of the liquid before the thought sprang unbidden to his mind that perhaps he was being poisoned. Hopefully not. Anyway, it was too late now.

The tea was sweet and syrupy, and it felt soothing to his ravaged throat. Seonghwa nodded in approval as Hongjoong gulped down the contents.

“Ugh,” Hongjoong said as he set the cup back on the nightstand. He sunk down further into the pillow and closed his eyes.

“Did you not like it?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong cracked one eye open. “No, it’s fine. I just… I need to…” He flinched at another sudden stomach spasm.

“Lie down and close your eyes,” Seonghwa finished for him. “The soup can wait. San should be back soon, and we can try something else.”

“Mmmkay,” Hongjoong mumbled into the edge of the blanket.

Hongjoong woke again to the sound of San and Seonghwa speaking softly.

“Just bring all of it in here,” he heard the mellow tone of Seonghwa’s voice at the bedroom doorway.

San wheeled the little cart that he used to serve meals into the room. It was crowded with an assortment of remedies, soups, and simple foods like rice porridge.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” San said with a pleased smile as he caught sight of Hongjoong. “I’ve got everything right here.”

Hongjoong was able to sit up on his own this time. After a brief bout of dizziness, he checked his watch again and discovered that it was nearly seven in the evening now.

Seonghwa removed a cup from the cart and held it out to Hongjoong. “Drink this first,” he directed, “It will help with the pain and the fever.”

Hongjoong exhaled heavily. He didn’t like being coddled like this when he just needed to sleep it off.

“Drink,” Seonghwa urged.

Hongjoong accepted the cup from him. “Okay, okay, pushy,” he grumbled.

He drained the tonic from the cup and placed it in San’s outstretched hand. The familiar asked, “Would you like to try some soup? Or some rice porridge?”

It took every effort Hongjoong had not to roll his eyes. Why were these two being so weird to him?

They’re just being nice, he told himself. There’s nothing suspicious about being nice. Usually. He tried his best to dismiss his paranoia. Perhaps the nightmares were having more of an effect on him than he wanted to admit.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll try whatever,” Hongoong said, reaching for the nearest bowl. He consumed a few spoonfuls of the ginseng chicken soup, and had a couple of bites of rice porridge. His stomach shuddered, and he decided that was enough for now.

“Um, thank you for everything,” he told them, nodding his head in the best bow he could manage. “I think that’s all I can handle at the moment.”

San returned his bow, seeming appreciative that he had tried any of it. “Thank you, San, for going to the city to get the medicine for me,” Hongjoong added. He knew that finding anything like that was no small matter.

“You’re always welcome, Master,” San bowed, his eyes reflecting the warmth of his smile. Hongjoong wondered why someone like him would be here. Working for vampires.

San bowed again and wheeled the cart out after Seonghwa dismissed him.

“Rest now,” Seonghwa said, settling into the armchair and picking up his book. Hongjoong frowned at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked the vampire. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

Seonghwa looked up from his book. “I want to stay until your fever breaks. So that I know you won’t stop breathing.”

Hongjoong snorted. “Okay, dramatic, but sure. I guess.” He shook his head and lay back down on the soft pillow, facing Seonghwa. He was hesitant to sleep more, afraid of dreaming again.

“What are you reading?” he asked the vampire. He shut his eyes. He was too dizzy to try to read the title on the spine.

“It’s a very old book,” Seonghwa said simply.

“About what?”

“Medical things. It’s all rather dry.”

“Hmm, okay. I’m assuming that you can’t catch anything from me?”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t fallen ill since… since before I was Made.”

Hongjoong grimaced. “I suppose that’s good.”

“Sure, it is.”

Hongjoong was too exhausted to pry more. He turned away from Seonghwa and closed his eyes. Chills from the fever began to assail him as he drifted into a semi-conscious state.

Eventually the lamp at his bedside clicked off, and a gentle touch smoothed his disheveled hair. Something soft and warm draped over him. His shivering subsided soon after, and he fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Hongjoong felt well enough to shamble into the sitting room, wrapped in the warm hand-woven blanket he had found covering him when he woke. The fever chills had subsided for the most part, but he still felt a little off. Hopefully he would make a full recovery by tomorrow.

He tugged the rope to summon San, and after a few minutes, the familiar entered with breakfast, followed closely by Seonghwa. Today the vampire’s hair was in a low ponytail, and he wore a high-necked shirt of delicate black mesh, along with a black leather vest that wrapped around the front. As he removed his boots at the door, Hongjoong notes that they were a little muddy, as if he had just been outside.

Hongjoong glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was just after nine. The sun had been up for at least an hour.

Interesting.

“Where have you been?” Hongjoong asked him.

Seonghwa responded with a blank stare, and San interrupted, “Would you like to try some bean sprout soup?”

“Of course, San, thank you,” Hongjoong answered, eyeing Seonghwa suspiciously.

Seonghwa slid into his indoor shoes and seated himself in his usual armchair.

“It’s good to see you up this morning,” the vampire told him stiffly. He accepted a cup of fresh blood from San with a nod.

“Yes, good morning,” Hongjoong said, mirroring Seonghwa’s detached demeanor. He scratched the side of his head, then attempted to smooth his hair down when he realized how messy it had gotten from all the sweating and tossing and turning. He needed to wash it.

They finished their breakfast in silence, then San wheeled the cart out, reminding Hongjoong that he would be back in a couple of hours to check how he was doing.

After another prolonged silence, Seonghwa asked, “Is there… anything else I can get for you?”

Hongjoong hugged the blanket more tightly around himself. “Um, well… maybe,” he mused. “I am a little too tired to dig through my trunk right now. But there’s a blue tea tin in there that has my mom’s special herbal tea for when I’m not feeling well. It always helps me feel better.”

Seonghwa stood quickly. “I’ll look for it,” he said, then added, “With your permission, of course?”

“Hey,” Hongjoong protested. “I said I was sorry about that.”

The ghost of a smile flickered over Seonghwa’s lips. “So I can look for it?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong agreed. “It also could be in my nightstand, I don’t remember.”

Hongjoong flopped down onto the sofa, remaining wrapped in the warm blanket while Seonghwa went to search for the tea.

He was half-dozing off when Seonghwa emerged from the bedchamber with a strange expression on his face. He held something at his side that was clearly not the tea tin. And he was wearing gloves.

Hongjoong sat up quickly, loosening his grip on the blanket as Seonghwa tossed whatever it was at him. He reached out and caught the silver flask in midair. Something sloshed around inside it.

Oh.

“What. the fuck.” Seonghwa’s voice was pure cold fury.

Hongjoong felt a surge of adrenaline as his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. He had never heard Seonghwa curse like that before. Hongjoong’s fingers clutched the flask of holy water that he had stashed in his nightstand next to his gun and knives.

Hongjoong had completely forgotten about it after the day he had unpacked. He hadn’t wanted to be rid of it, just in case. And now Seonghwa had found it.

“You dare bring sanctified water into my home? Into our bedchamber?” Seonghwa ground out each word, clenching his trembling hands into fists.

“I— I’m a Hunter, remember?“ Hongjoong shifted carefully under the blanket to reach a more defensible position. “I just threw everything I owned into my trunk before the wedding. I had no intention—“

“I can excuse your ridiculous weapons stash,” Seonghwa seethed, his glare icier than Hongjoong has seen since the wedding banquet. “I can excuse your creeping around the manor all day,” he continued, and Hongjoong cringed. “But what I cannot excuse is something that is a direct and obvious threat to the Coven– to me!– being kept in my own husband’s nightstand, right next to where I’ve been sleeping.”

Hongjoong winced, feeling suddenly overcome with dizziness.

Not now. Please, not now.

“Do you have a deathwish, dear husband?” Seonghwa asked, his dark eyes glittering.

Hongjoong gasped and doubled over, clutching his stomach. Seonghwa glowered at him unsympathetically until the spasm subsided.

“You are no longer a Hunter,” Seonghwa said coolly. “You are part of this Coven. And I forbid you to have that.”

“I’m not part of your fucking Coven!” Hongjoong snapped, his voice’s volume rising with anger. He stood up from the sofa, bracing himself in case his stomach betrayed him again. “I will always be a Hunter. You shouldn’t be so offended that I still own things like this. What if we need to deal with feral vampires?” Instinctively, he brushed his fingers against one of the scars on his chest.

Seonghwa eyed him dispassionately. “You aren’t part of the Coven yet,” he said, the warning clear in his tone. “You will become one of us. So you had better start acting like it.” Seonghwa’s declaration felt like a threat, and Hongjoong felt his temper flaring.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Hongjoong retorted, advancing a stride towards the vampire, and feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction when Seonghwa took the slightest step back. “You have no idea what I’ve had to go through!” Hongjoong’s voice rose as his remaining hold on his temper shattered. “You will never understand!“

Seonghwa’s face went blank. “Is that so? You really believe we have absolutely nothing in common in this?”

Hongjoong recalled the sun-kissed young Seonghwa from the photo. That boy was long gone now. Wasn’t he? Hongjoong shook his head, letting all of his fear and his anger pour into what he said next. “How can I know if your emotions are real, or if they’re just some clever act? That they’re not just shadows of what you knew from before you were Made?”

Seonghwa’s nostrils flared. “I’ve heard enough,” he said, with finality. He departed their quarters without another word. Hongjoong collapsed onto the sofa, his entire body shaking with indignation and his stomach in distress.

When nearly an hour had passed, Hongjoong rang the bell for San. He needed to know if the familiar had gotten any responses to his messages yet. He desperately needed to hear from his brothers or his mother, anyone.

San had nothing for him.

After that, Hongjoong didn’t see Seonghwa for an entire week.

It had been over a week since the incident with the holy water, and Hongjoong’s mother still hadn’t responded to his letter.

No one had come to visit him. Not even Wooyoung.

He was going to go insane in this place.

He decided to make it his mission to track down the door or whatever it was that the stolen key would open. There was nothing else to do.

In any case, since the key had been in San’s pocket, it was probably important. San was close to Seonghwa. And if Seonghwa wouldn’t talk to Hongjoong about the vampire Sire’s assassination, maybe Hongjoong could discover something without his help. He had found nothing of use in their personal quarters, other than possibly the journal, which Seonghwa had relocated to somewhere unknown. Hongjoong didn’t know where Seonghwa’s father’s quarters had been, but if he could find them, perhaps he could make a break in the case. San had been… unhelpful when questioned, citing orders from Seonghwa not to speak about it without his permission.

The fairy tale book in the library had turned out to be… just a book of fairy tales. Bookmarked at a story titled “Beauty and the Beast.” Hongjoong wasn’t desperate enough to read that… yet. But he found it strange that Seonghwa would spend his time reading such things. Perhaps there was a secret code in the book that he didn’t yet understand.

Hongjoong briefly wondered if Seonghwa had actually fled the manor, never to return. Surely not… He was at least sleeping in their quarters during the day, according to San. Hongjoong hadn’t wanted to disturb him, so he had made sure to vacate their quarters during daylight hours to give Seonghwa some privacy. Even if he really wanted to confront him.

If Seonghwa was still avoiding him tomorrow morning, perhaps Hongjoong would wait for him to come back to the quarters to sleep. Maybe he would ask San to wait with him, so Seonghwa would feel more comfortable speaking with him.

Hongjoong had begun today by following San. Discreetly, of course. He had nearly been spotted twice, and he found himself getting swept up in the excitement of this little game.

He finally had a breakthrough when San exited the kitchen carrying a wine glass and a tall bottle that Hongjoong recognized as one of the vampire’s fresh blood bottles. He followed San down several winding corridors on the main floor, taking so many turns that Hongjoong nearly lost his sense of direction. Finally, San disappeared into one of many similar doors about halfway down a corridor on the western side of the manor.

Hongjoong waited until San left the room, which remarkably enough only took a couple of minutes. He hid around a corner until San passed by, then checked that the corridor was clear. He rushed to the door, pulling out the key as he tried the doorknob.

It was locked.

He tried the silver key.

It slid in smoothly, and there was a soft click as the electronic locking mechanism disengaged.

Hongjoong glanced up and down the empty corridor, then he turned the doorknob and slipped into the room.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong found himself on a landing above a narrow staircase that descended into darkness. A light shone faintly at the bottom of the steps. Hongjoong descended cautiously, double checking his sleeves for his knife and a small, solid wooden stake he had crafted in the yard a couple of days ago when he’d been bored. You could never be too careful around vampires.

The stairs led to an enormous basement with a concrete floor covered in opulent rugs. Most of the sprawling room lay in darkness, save for a single swiveling floor lamp that illuminated a huge table.

Hongjoong circled the table curiously, noting that it was primarily covered by an expansive, sculptured landscape of a lake surrounded by mountains that in some places reached up almost to Hongjoong’s height. When he reached the front of the table, he beheld a deep valley leading to a tiny recreation of a mountain village, complete with painted figures of both animals and people. Miniature cows wandered through green fields, and diminutive boatmen navigated a sparkling lake below the village. Hongjoong leaned in close to inspect the cows. Each one seemed to be meticulously painted with extreme detail and care. Even the village shops had detailed signs with miniscule wares on display in the windows.

A workbench against the wall behind him displayed a variety of paints and brushes, along with several unpainted figurines, all systematically organized.

The bottle of fresh blood and the large wine glass that San had delivered sat on a small platter in the center of the workbench.

Hongjoong wondered if he had stumbled onto some kind of strange collection that one of the vampires had commissioned to be created for them. But why? Where was the person who had created all of this? It must have taken years.

A sudden realization came over Hongjoong. With the bottle of fresh blood being placed down here, that meant–

He sprang into action as soon as he heard the door at the top of the stairs swing open. He darted into the darkest corner of the room, concealing himself behind a tall stack of open crates filled with what appeared to be painting supplies.

He peeked through the slats of one of the crates just as Seonghwa stepped into the room, his soft footsteps barely discernible. After not seeing the vampire all week, of course he would show up when Hongjoong was busy snooping somewhere that was clearly meant to be private.

Today, Seonghwa wore a luxurious shiny purple coat and trousers, cut perfectly to fit the form of his slender body. He removed the coat as he entered and slung it over a chair next to the workbench. He wore a short, form-fitting vest underneath, revealing the pale skin of his lower torso as he reached up to adjust the lamp to better illuminate the model village. His hair fell around his face in soft ringlets today, and Hongjoong wondered if it did that naturally, or if he had to style it that way. The vampire’s eyes appeared weary, devoid of their usual keenness, but his movements were graceful as ever.

Hongjoong didn’t dare breathe as Seonghwa poured himself a half-glass of blood and drank it at a leisurely pace, seeming to savor it like it was a fine wine as he methodically lined up and selected various tools from the workbench. He pulled a pair of thin, paint-splattered gloves out of a drawer and set them aside as he finished off his glass.

Hongjoong noticed a thin sheen of blood glossing the vampire’s lips as he pulled the gloves on carefully and stepped under the lamp. Seonghwa lifted his hand into the light, inspecting what appeared to be a tiny black cat figurine.

“Won’t the little mouse come out to play?” he asked quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on the miniature feline. The light glinted across his onyx eyes as he scrutinized it beneath the lamplight.

Hongjoong took steady, shallow breaths as he felt his heart rate increasing. Seonghwa set the figure down and slowly and methodically removed his gloves, stacking them neatly on top of each other. He placed his palms on the edge of the table and closed his eyes. The light fell across his porcelain face in such a way that half of it was illuminated, while the other half was lost in shadow. He tilted his head. The movement was slow. Predatory.

“Your heart beats loudly in the dark, husband,” he murmured.

Hongjoong slowly slid his knife free from its sheath. He abandoned his hiding place in the shadows, stepping into the light at the opposite corner of the table.

Seonghwa remained motionless, his eyes closed. Listening to his husband’s heartbeat. Finally, he opened his eyes and turned to face Hongjoong.

“How did you find this place?” he asked, his expression eerily calm.

“I’m a Hunter. It’s what I do,” Hongjoong said with a satisfied smirk. Seonghwa’s pretty bloodstained mouth twisted with distaste, and Hongjoong did his best not to look at it.

“I wish… to be left alone,” Seonghwa said, enunciating each word.

“Too bad,” Hongjoong told him, feeling bold. “I need to speak with you, and you need to stop avoiding me.”

“I could tear your throat out before you could even blink,” Seonghwa said calmly. His expression was mostly impassive, aside from his eyes, which narrowed slightly. His lips quivered slightly as if he were holding back a snarl. The mask was beginning to crack.

Hongjoong gave him a derisive grin and said, “Do it, then.”

Quick as a flash, Seonghwa had Hongjoong pinned to the floor. But Hongjoong was no novice Hunter. Before he even hit the ground, the blade of his silver knife was at the vampire’s pale throat, and his small wooden stake was pointed directly at the vampire’s heart.

Hongjoong clutched both weapons tightly as Seonghwa hovered over him. The silvery strands of the vampire’s hair framed his face, and the lamplight from behind him encircled his head like a halo, so that he looked like some sort of angel of death gazing down at Hongjoong.

“Will you kill me,” Seonghwa asked, moving closer, so that their faces were only centimeters apart, “And betray the Treaty we’ve fought so hard to protect? That our families have protected for generations?” He bared his teeth, and for the first time, Hongjoong got a good look at Seonghwa’s sharp, glistening fangs.

“There you are,” Hongjoong murmured. He held his silver blade steady, ready to slit the vampire’s throat if he showed any sign of aggression.

Seonghwa reached up with agonizing slowness and tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind Hongjoong’s ear. His touch was barely a whisper as his fingertips brushed the side of his husband’s face. Hongjoong didn’t dare to breathe. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his temple as he kept his eyes fixed on the vampire above him.

Seonghwa seemed to move incrementally closer, studying Hongjoong’s face like some kind of curious bird. His bloodstained lips parted, and Hongjoong could feel his warm breath on his face. He smelled faintly of iron from the blood, along with some kind of sweet floral fruit. Hongjoong let his gaze drop to Seonghwa’s plump, pouty lips, just for a moment. It was easy to see now how vampires could weaponize their beauty to seduce and murder their victims. Hongjoong wondered if he could stomach slicing his blade into Seonghwa’s perfect, unmarred throat. The vampire’s skin looked so soft, so delicate. Like something meant to be worshipped, not mutilated.

“Answer the question,” Seonghwa demanded, shattering whatever bizarre tension had been building between them.

“Would you break the Treaty to get out of this?” Hongjoong countered, feeling his temper rising as he glared at Seonghwa.

“Why not just kill me and be done with it, then?” Seonghwa asked, his voice soft as velvet. Hongjoong barely managed to keep himself from flinching as Seonghwa reached up and wiped the sweat from Hongjoong’s temple with an agonizingly soft stroke of his thumb.

“Maybe you should give me a reason not to,” Hongjoong replied, forcing himself to focus on every subtle movement of Seonghwa’s body. Letting the vampire distract him now could prove fatal.

Instead of replying, Seonghwa huffed and began to pat down Hongjoong’s trouser pockets, muttering, “Where is it…” Hongjoong froze beneath him, before realizing what the vampire was doing. What he was looking for. Seonghwa’s fingers paused as they brushed over the small silver key in Hongjoong’s front pocket.

“I knew it,” Seonghwa growled, digging his slender fingers into the cloth to retrieve it. Hongjoong nearly gasped as Seonghwa’s hand inadvertently groped him, and he shifted his body beneath Seonghwa’s, lifting his leg so that the vampire fell temporarily off-balance. Seonghwa’s slim frame pressed up against Hongjoong’s hips and torso as he caught himself just a moment too late. Seonghwa stiffened, then recoiled slightly.

Hongjoong smiled, then took advantage of the distraction to shove the vampire off of him. Seonghwa regained his footing quickly, but Hongjoong was the first one to his feet, rapidly assuming a defensive stance.

The vampire glared with open disgust at Hongjoong brandishing his weapons. “Put those away,” he demanded.

“Not a chance.” Hongjoong glanced hastily around the dimly lit room for any other exits besides the stairwell he had descended earlier. Seonghwa stood between him and the door.

Hongjoong’s eyes were drawn to a small, well-worn sofa piled with neatly folded blankets and a lumpy pillow. A bag sat next to it, stuffed with what appeared to be clothing. On top was a folded woven blanket– the same one Seonghwa had put over him when he’d been ill… and the pink stuffed rabbit from the arcade.

What…

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong breathed, carefully lowering his weapons.

The vampire had been following his gaze, but those dark eyes returned to him now.

“Have you… been sleeping down here?” Hongjoong asked cautiously. “I’ve been leaving our quarters during the day so you could sleep there. San said that you would…” Hongjoong trailed off, his mind whirring in confusion.

Seonghwa’s composure seemed to crack for just a fraction of a second, then he lifted his chin with a disdainful scowl. “Why do you care where I sleep?”

“Because you have a perfectly good bed upstairs,” Hongjoong said.

There was a long period of silence where Seonghwa seemed to be working up the courage to say something, appearing increasingly agitated as he took short, sharp little breaths.

Finally, he burst out, “I’m not comfortable sharing quarters with someone who is plotting to murder me!”

Hongjoong stared at him, incredulous.

“Look at yourself!” The vampire’s voice continued to rise, his placid facade shattering as he gestured at the weapons Hongjoong held by his sides. “I came to the one place in this godforsaken… prison! …the one place that I can feel safe, and you’ve invaded that too!”

As he spoke, he backed up like a frightened animal, until he stumbled back against a thick support beam in the middle of the room. He sunk to the floor in a dejected heap, dropping his face into his hands.

Hongjoong’s chest felt as if it was tightening, as if all the air were abandoning him. He hadn’t even considered….

“Please just… leave me alone,” Seonghwa pleaded. “Or do what you need to do and be done with it.” He pulled his knees towards his chest and rested his arms on them, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’m so tired,” he added, more quietly.

Hongjoong stood before him in stunned silence. Had Seonghwa really thought he was going to kill him, that he had been toying with him, hunting him, this entire time? He supposed it possibly could have looked like that…

He thought of how he had spied on Seonghwa in the library, had searched through all of Seonghwa’s belongings and stashed weapons everywhere, of Seonghwa finding the flask of holy water, of whittling a wooden stake in the back gardens.

Seonghwa’s father had recently been assassinated… so maybe… maybe the young vampire was terrified that he was next. Maybe he believed that the Hunters, or even Hongjoong himself, could have had something to do with it… that they had initiated a transfer of power to a younger, more inexperienced vampire– one they could eliminate when he was no longer useful.

After a long moment of reflection, Hongjoong said, as gently as he could manage, “I was trying to find you because I want your help solving your father’s murder. That’s all. I really do care about bringing whoever did it to justice.”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. Hongjoong sheathed his weapons and crouched down in front of Seonghwa, moving very deliberately. He swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat and said, “I know that you don’t trust me. And I understand that. I haven’t been very mindful that some of the things I do naturally as a Hunter might come across like that to you, considering we hardly know each other. But I truly do not want to hurt you. And… I’m sorry for making you think otherwise.”

Hongjoong glanced over at the pitiful makeshift sofa bed. Seonghwa deserved better than this, especially in his own home. “I can sleep on our sofa or even move to different quarters, if it makes you feel more comfortable,” he offered. “I just… I…”

He hung his head for a second, biting his lip hard as he struggled in vain to push his emotions deep, deep down. They just kept welling back up. The shame he felt was stifling. He had failed to understand how his actions had contributed to Seonghwa’s elusive behavior.

Seonghwa finally looked up at him, furrowing his brow. Hongjoong’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper as he said, “I miss my family, as I’m sure you do too. I miss them so much. I don’t… I don’t want to be alone here. You’re all I’ve got.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened. His lips parted slightly, but he said nothing.

“I know that somewhere deep down within you is the boy that had fun with me at the arcade the other night,” Hongjoong said, watching the way Seonghwa’s lower lip trembled before the vampire pressed his lips together tightly to stop it. “Ever since that day we went to the arcade, I thought that… even if we can’t ever be lovers…” Seonghwa winced, but Hongjoong continued, “That maybe we could try to become something like friends.”

Hongjoong took a deep breath, swallowing his pride and summoning his courage. “Please… come back to me,” he implored softly, unable to look directly at his husband as he said it.

Seonghwa didn’t speak for a very long time. Hongjoong sat on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, waiting patiently for a response.

The vampire’s voice was uncharacteristically thick with emotion when he finally spoke, “I… I will try.”

Hongjoong reached out tentatively and placed his hand on Seonghwa’s knee. The vampire tensed at Hongjoong’s touch, but after a long moment where nothing happened, he seemed to relax a bit.

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said, perplexed as to why his heart was beating so quickly. All he wanted was to make peace. To stop the misunderstandings so that they could learn to live with each other.

He stood up, stretching his stiff legs with a groan, and walked towards the stairs. Turning back, he said, “Perhaps you can join me for dinner tonight, if you feel like it. We can start over, and try to actually get to know each other.”

Seonghwa did not join him for dinner.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa was seated in his usual armchair the next morning, sipping a cup of blood as Hongjoong shuffled into the sitting room for breakfast. Hongjoong blinked at him in surprise, rubbing his eyes to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. Seonghwa looked him up and down with an indifferent expression, then took another sip of blood and lifted a book to read. From the title, it appeared to be some boring treatise on ancient laws.

Hongjoong murmured a greeting and watched him closely as San served breakfast. Hongjoong ate in silence for a few minutes while continuing to study Seonghwa, who didn’t move at all.

“Are you pretending to read?” Hongjoong asked eventually, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Seonghwa glanced up at him, then slowly closed his book. He sniffed and raised his chin.

“Why… would I do that?” Seonghwa asked. He propped his elbows on the armrests and interlaced his fingers.

“To avoid talking to me,” Hongjoong replied, giving Seonghwa a knowing smile. He ate a mouthful of rice porridge as Seonghwa glared at him. Hongjoong continued, “That won’t work with me, you know. I’ll talk to you anyways.”

Seonghwa frowned, then sighed and said, “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Hongjoong tilted his head and tapped his lips with his forefinger, pretending to consider. “Do you wake up every day and actively choose to act like a spoiled brat, or is it just part of who you are as a person?” he asked, raising a facetious eyebrow.

Seonghwa’s jaw dropped in disbelief, and at the sight, Hongjoong was overcome by a fit of laughter. San’s eyes widened in horror, and the familiar suddenly pretended to be very busy gathering dishes and loading them onto the cart.

Seonghwa sat in stunned silence, watching Hongjoong cackle at him. When his giggles finally dissipated, Hongjoong said, “I’m sorry. But you really can act like a total brat sometimes.”

Seonghwa shook his head with an annoyed expression, but a hint of a confused smile threatened to replace his disdainful frown.

“It’s actually kind of cute,” Hongjoong chanced, glancing at Seonghwa coyly and waiting for his reaction. The vampire’s eyes widened and a faint blush bloomed on his cheeks. Good. Throwing Seonghwa off balance seemed to do wonders for snapping him out of his moodiness. Hongjoong decided to take it a step further, just to test something. “Don’t you think so, San?” Hongjoong asked, turning to the familiar.

San peered back over his shoulder at the mention of his name, and Hongjoong winked at him. San grinned, then nearly dropped a dish and caught it with another, and the two clattered together loudly as the dish on top cracked in half. San made a frantic apology, bowed, then rushed out of the room to dispose of the broken pieces.

Hongjoong sighed. San had already had to suffer through so many awkward breakfasts with them, he thought that perhaps they should get him an apology gift.

Seonghwa hadn’t taken his eyes off Hongjoong. “You really are a fascinating creature, husband,” he murmured. He finished his last sip of blood and set the cup on the small round table next to his chair, and his expression became stoic once more.

“I disposed of it, safely, you know,” Hongjoong said, his tone sobering. “The holy water.”

Seonghwa nodded curtly. “I know. San informed me.”

“Wait here,” Hongjoong told him. He went to the bedchamber and retrieved something from his nightstand. When he returned, he held out the small silver key to Seonghwa.

“Here,” Hongjoong offered. “Take it back, as a show of good faith that I won’t invade your private space again, unless you want me to.”

Seonghwa paused, then glanced up at Hongjoong as he reached out and took the key. His cool fingertips slid against Hongjoong’s palm, skimming his wedding ring and lingering just a tad too long to not be considered deliberate. Hongjoong watched the vampire’s inscrutable expression, wondering what was going through his mind.

“It was never yours to begin with,” Seonghwa said quietly, slipping the key into his silver-trimmed vest pocket.

“I know,” Hongjoong admitted, “And I’m sorry.” He sat back down on the sofa across from Seonghwa, throwing an arm back casually and crossing his legs. They both had made mistakes and assumed things about each other that perhaps they shouldn’t have, and he wanted them to move past this already. “I’d like to start over with you, if that’s alright,” he told the vampire. “You seem to often misunderstand my intentions.”

“You misunderstand my nature,” Seonghwa replied coolly.

“Then let’s actually try to get to know each other,” Hongjoong insisted.

“There isn’t much more to know… about me,” Seonghwa said, waving his hand dismissively.

So Seonghwa could acknowledge the problem, but still insisted on being difficult. Hongjoong weighed his options, trying to think of something that the vampire might actually be willing to speak about.

“Then tell me about the others,” Hongjoong suggested. “The Coven members who live in this manor with us. I know next to nothing about any of them, and I rarely see them since they all seem to sleep during the day.”

Seonghwa pondered for a moment, then, to Hongjoong’s surprise, he actually offered up some information. “Yeosang, our wedding officiant… he is the oldest of us,” Seonghwa told him. “Over 400 years. He has little interest in external affairs, outside of keeping the peace in general so that he is free to pursue his own interests. But he is trustworthy.”

Hongjoong nodded. “Thank you, that’s helpful. What about the tall one who sat at our wedding table?”

Seonghwa hesitated. “Ah… yes, Yunho. He is… also a good friend of mine. A distant relation as well. He has also been around for… I believe over 200 years now. He likes his privacy. And he travels often, so you may not see him around much.”

“Good to know. What about the other nine Coven members? Anything interesting I should know?”

Seonghwa listed off the remaining Coven members’ names along with some general facts about each of them. Hongjoong jotted their names down in his notebook, along with scribbling a few notes about what he deemed important. He listened carefully and asked questions when he had them, but didn’t push too hard for answers, accepting only what Seonghwa was willing to offer. From what Seonghwa revealed, it seemed that most of the Coven vampires were quite solitary creatures, outside of having one or two close friends each.

“Do you ever get everyone together for uh… family dinners? Or anything like that?” Hongjoong asked. It didn’t seem like the Coven had anything at all resembling the bonds or even friendships that he had with his Hunter brothers, but maybe he had missed things that happened while he was asleep.

“Ehm… not really,” Seonghwa replied, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Not unless it’s a special occasion, like the yearly Treaty renewals, the blood rite Ceremonies, or… a wedding. Most of them are fairly solitary. Outside of their closest friends.”

“I see,” Hongjoong said. “That’s kind of sad, actually.” He thought about the camaraderie he had with his Hunter brothers, and wondered if Seonghwa had ever experienced anything like that before he had been Made.

Seonghwa didn’t respond.

Hongjoong cleared his throat. “So… still not willing to talk about yourself?”

Seonghwa shook his head.

“Something else then,” Hongjoong mused, trying to come up with a roundabout way to learn more about the vampire. “You were engaged to my older brother Yijun. What was he like?”

Looking a bit bewildered, Seonghwa said, “I’m sure you have much better memories of him than I do.”

Hongjoong clarified, “I mean what was he like when you spent those weeks with him each summer? You must have some stories.” He pretended to be very interested in wiping his hands clean with a damp cloth, trying to ignore his own emotions about the subject. He missed his older brother so much. Sometimes hearing people talk about him helped soothe the ache that lived permanently in Hongjoong’s heart. He wondered if Yijun’s death had affected Seonghwa much, if at all.

Seonghwa spoke hesitantly, “Well… there was the summer that Yijun and I first met. After they formalized our betrothal.”

“Tell me about it,” Hongjoong said, trying not to seem too eager. Seonghwa’s gaze seemed to soften a bit.

“We were both twelve,” Seonghwa said, “and I guess you would’ve been…”

“Ten,” Hongjoong finished for him.

Seonghwa nodded. “Yes, so… we uh… we met at the summer house in the mountains, where I spent every summer since I was born. Until I was Made, that is.”

Hongjoong tilted his head, intrigued. He had never heard about the Coven having a summer house before. It didn’t make much sense for vampires to have such a thing. Yijun had never talked much about his visits with his betrothed, and Hongjoong hadn’t wanted to push him to talk about it, because it reminded them both of the fate that Yijun would have to endure in the future.

A faint smile flickered over Seonghwa’s faintly bloodstained lips at some recalled memory, and he continued, “After we had been formally introduced, Yijun and I went out to the lake to play, and he taught me how to skip rocks. I wasn’t very good at it at first, so he showed me some techniques to try, and… we did that for a long time.” Seonghwa was silent for a long moment, and Hongjoong did not interrupt.

“I remember how it felt,” Seonghwa said softly, closing his eyes as he recounted the next part. “To be outside, with the sunlight shining on my face. It could be so warm and comforting, like a soft blanket, but I liked it even when it was hot and made me sweat. Sometimes it sparkled so brightly when it reflected off the water, that the lake would look like it was made of diamonds.” He tipped his head back, exposing more of his pale throat, as if he could bask in the sunshine captured within his memory.

Hongjoong inhaled slowly, afraid of breaking whatever spell had compelled Seonghwa to speak so freely.

Seonghwa eventually opened his eyes and continued, “Yijun and I went swimming in the lake afterwards. I taught him how to tread water. Then a fish nibbled at my toes, and I was very scared for a moment, thinking it was a monster of some kind in the lake. I was a silly child with a big imagination.”

Hongjoong blinked in surprise, and Seonghwa continued, “Yijun thought it was hilarious, so he kept diving under the water and pretending to be a fish, grabbing my toes to scare me. We ended up wrestling in the water, then laughing about it later while we lay in the grass to dry off in the sun. We ate peaches from my mother’s orchard, and chased fireflies after the sun had set into twilight. It… was a good day.”

Hongjoong swallowed, feeling a little overwhelmed that Seonghwa had actually spoken about something so personal. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he told Seonghwa with all sincerity. He hadn’t ever heard Yijun talk much about Seonghwa, so he was glad to hear they had at least seemed to have made some good memories together.

Seonghwa remained silent, seeming lost in thought.

Hongjoong’s mind drifted to Seonghwa’s mountainside village reconstruction in the basement, and its importance suddenly hit him, nearly taking his breath away. So that was why the model had been so important to Seonghwa. Why he had painstakingly crafted and painted every detail himself.

It was something the vampire had wanted to keep private— an attempt to remember a place that he could never again see in the sunlight. The place where the smiling boy in the photo had spent his summers.

Hongjoong’s eyes welled up with tears and he turned his head, trying to subtly wipe them away. What the Coven had done to Seonghwa, what they’d taken from him… they had taken everything.

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa said softly. “I know you must miss your brother very much.”

Hongjoong nodded. Of course he did. It was just…

“I’ll never forgive myself, you know,” Seonghwa’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “For that day. The day he died in that awful ambush. If I hadn’t already been Made… if I had been able to go out during the daylight hours... I could have helped protect him.”

Seonghwa stared reproachfully at his own pallid hands, clenching and unclenching his slender fingers, as if they had been the cause of Yijun’s misfortune. He eventually clasped his hands together, his thumb sweeping distractedly back and forth over his wedding band.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hongjoong said, as comforting as he could manage, though he had often had the same thought about himself. Hongjoong should have been there to protect his brother. “It… probably couldn’t have been prevented, even had you been there, if it had happened at nighttime,” Hongjoong said, half trying to convince himself as well. “They would have just killed you too.”

Seonghwa sighed, then shifted his hands onto the chair’s armrests. “Still. I always wonder. If I could have changed things.”

“Me too…” Hongjoong took a deep breath, then forced himself to ask, “Did… um, did you have… feelings for him?”

Seonghwa’s grip on the arms of his chair tensed for a moment. “We weren’t… in love, no, but… I was fond of him.” Seonghwa’s gaze seemed a million miles away. “I thought that, since I had to marry, since I didn’t have a choice, that I wouldn’t mind it being him. That he’d make it easy. Tolerable, at least. He was very brave. And he was kind to me.” The vampire finally looked up at Hongjoong again.

“But you got me instead,” Hongjoong said bitterly, finding that he couldn’t quite look directly at Seonghwa anymore.

Seonghwa’s dark eyes remained fixed on him, but he said nothing. Something seemed to twist Hongjoong’s insides. He returned to his breakfast and poked at it for a moment, but found he had lost his appetite.

Abandoning his attempt to finish the meal, he decided to change the subject. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, I know it’s difficult, but do you think you could help me… by answering a question or two about the night of your father’s assassination?”

Seonghwa’s expression grew pained, and his grip on the sides of his armchair tightened again.

“You don’t have to—“

“Good. Then I won’t.” Seonghwa stood, grabbed his book, and stalked out of the room.

Hongjoong sighed, wondering if he would ever be able to build enough trust with Seonghwa to get any answers out of him. He placed his abandoned dishes on the cart, then sat down at the desk to work.

Hongjoong found it difficult to focus on his work after his talk with Seonghwa, so after lunching alone, he decided to take a walk outside to try and clear his head. Unfortunately, it was overcast and raining outside, so the walk just served to enhance Hongjoong’s melancholy. He needed to get out of here. He needed someone to come visit him. Anything. He didn’t know what to do without directly disobeying the Commander’s orders. But felt like he was going to go insane in this place if he didn’t get to see his brothers again soon.

It was a long shot, but he still hoped that one of them would find the message he had left in the arcade. There were a couple of leads he thought were promising, and both of them involved talking to or spying on people in Sector 12, which would be dangerous to attempt alone. Hongjoong knew that he probably shouldn’t be working on the case, but he couldn’t help it. What else was he supposed to do? He needed to stay busy. He needed to continue doing the job he had trained for his entire life. The job he knew that he was good at.

He took a turn into the maze-like gardens behind the manor, passing a few familiars in rain gear who were trimming the hedges. They acknowledged him with polite bows. A couple of them even seemed concerned and offered him their raincoats, but Hongjoong politely declined. Eventually, he trudged back inside, soaked completely through and leaving small puddles in his wake.

San appeared when summoned and took away Hongjoong’s drenched clothes while his Master took an excessively long bath in the enormous pool. The warm water helped to soothe Hongjoong a little bit, but he began to feel distracted and jittery as soon as he left the bath and dried off. He slipped into some lounge clothes, a soft ivory sweater and navy sweatpants, then ambled down the manor corridors until he found himself at the entrance to the library.

He pushed the heavy wooden door open carefully, glancing around to see if Seonghwa or anyone else was already in there. It was probably around sunset now, but Hongjoong wasn’t wearing his watch to check at the moment.

Finding the room empty, he strolled inside and began perusing the shelves, looking for anything that might catch his interest. He didn’t see the book that Seonghwa had been reading this morning anywhere. Instead, he found himself for some inexplicable reason drawn once again to the fairy tale book that he had seen Seonghwa reading before.

He pulled the book carefully from the shelf and flipped it open to where the ribbon marked Seonghwa’s place, still at the same story, “Beauty and the Beast.” This time, however, Hongjoong spotted something new– a small folded piece of paper nestled between the pages. Hongjoong unfolded the paper, which looked like it had been heavily crumpled and flattened out.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized what it was: True love is right around the corner

Hongjoong’s fortune from the arcade. Why the hell would Seonghwa have kept this? Was he some kind of hopeless romantic? And why was a fairy tale so important to Seonghwa, anyways? Hongjoong decided that he was going to have to read it to find out.

He flipped through the pages. It didn’t seem very long, so he could probably read it before anyone would notice the book was missing. He sat in the chair facing the fireplace, thinking that if Seonghwa found him reading it, he would just try to be honest with him about his curiosity instead of just making up an excuse. The least Hongjoong could do is try to be more honest with him now, after all that had happened between them.

The story turned out to be more enlightening than Hongjoong had expected. It was about a man who had been cursed and turned into a Beast. He lived essentially trapped in a castle with his servants, awaiting the day when the curse would be broken.

One day, a man from a nearby village showed up and stole a flower from the garden, so the Beast imprisoned him. The man’s daughter, Belle, made a deal to stay at the castle with the Beast in exchange for her father’s release and her family being kept safe.

Hongjoong had to stop and take a moment to digest the strange parallels with his own life. It was uncanny that his own story had so much in common with this fairy tale from centuries ago.

The rest of the tale detailed how the Beast tried to win the heart of Belle so that the curse would be broken, and how he slowly fell in love with her as they spent more time together. Eventually, the Beast decided to give up on his dream of breaking the curse and let Belle go, so that she could be happy with her family.

Hongjoong told himself that he was not going to cry. It was just a stupid fairy tale. He was just feeling emotional and lonely from being cooped up in this damned manor for so long.

In the end, Belle actually returned to the Beast, because she had truly fallen in love with him. The curse was broken as she confessed her love, and the Beast became a man once more. The servants were restored to their true forms as well. Then Belle and the no-longer-Beast, who was actually a Prince, were married, and they lived happily ever after.

When Hongjoong finished reading the story, he had to sit and digest what he had just read. It all seemed a bit juvenile and unrealistic to Hongjoong. True love and happy endings weren’t real. That wasn’t how the world worked. Regardless, he felt that he now understood a fundamental truth about Seonghwa— the vampire thought he was the Beast. That he was cursed and unloveable. And perhaps he dreamed of no longer feeling that way, of getting his own happy ending someday.

Maybe there was already someone that Seonghwa had feelings for, but was too afraid to pursue. Perhaps Yeosang, the stunningly beautiful vampire who had sat at Seonghwa’s right hand at the wedding? Instead, Hongjoong’s mind drifted to San… which would make a lot of sense, actually. Was love between a vampire and their familiar forbidden? It seemed likely.

Perhaps Seonghwa’s taciturn nature was just a mask for his sadness. For his loneliness. After all, what kind of person could fall in love with a vampire? The thought made Hongjoong’s stomach turn. Had he been too unkind to Seonghwa? Had he made him feel even more lonely by pushing him away and scaring him with his Hunter-like behaviors?

No, Hongjoong had tried his best to reach out, in spite of Seonghwa’s continued elusiveness. But perhaps he could try to empathize with Seonghwa’s situation a bit more. It would help if Seonghwa would tell him anything about himself, like he had today, before he had disappeared again. Hongjoong sighed and closed the book. He wanted to win Seonghwa’s trust, but he felt much too impatient to play these games with him.

What if… it’s me that Seonghwa wants a happy ending with? I’m the one who came here to save my family and keep the peace. Like Belle.

Hongjoong pushed the thought away as quickly as possible. He was not like Belle. Real life was not like a fairy tale, and he was not going to fall in love with a vampire. Unfortunately, there was no known way to reverse vampirism, so Seonghwa would never be able to truly break his curse, true love or not. And soon enough, Hongjoong would be joining him...

Footsteps sounded from the direction of the hallway. Someone was entering the library.

As Hongjoong quickly stood and returned the book to its shelf, he realized there seemed to be more than just one or two sets of footsteps. So probably not Seonghwa and San, then. Hongjoong really wasn’t in the mood to speak to any of the Coven right now. Making a split second decision, he darted to the bookcase with the secret passage and opened it. He dashed in, allowing the door to click shut behind him.

Using his lighter’s flame as a guide, he found his way to the location of the peephole. A tiny sliding cover had been shuttered over it, and Hongjoong moved it to allow himself to see through.

Two vampires and a stout, middle-aged male familiar entered the library. The tall red-haired vampire, who judging from Seonghwa’s descriptions earlier, was probably Mansik, spoke in a low voice to the others. “I searched his quarters myself yesterday. There really isn’t anything at all, unless it’s in some secret hiding spot that I haven’t found yet.”

“We know it exists,” the shorter, raven-haired vampire told him. “We’ve seen him writing in it many times.” He was also tall, but not quite so tall as Mansik. Both were somewhere between Seonghwa and Yunho’s heights.

“What if Seonghwa already destroyed it?” Mansik asked. Hongjoong’s breath caught at the mention of Seonghwa’s name.

What would Seonghwa have wanted destroyed? Did they want Seonghwa’s diary for some reason? Was this why Seonghwa had reacted so strongly to the possibility that Hongjoong could have found and read it? Why he had moved it to the basement afterwards?

Or what if that wasn’t what they meant at all? What if they had been searching for something else they’d seen someone writing in. Perhaps they meant Hongjoong’s notebook that he mostly used to track his leads and progress on cases– something he always kept on his person when he left his quarters. Only someone who had something to do with a murder would try to hamper an investigation…

The dark-haired vampire shifted to face the familiar, which inadvertently allowed Hongjoong to have a better view of his face. He was a beautiful porcelain-skinned man with a square jaw, black eyes, and thick eyebrows. The way he carried himself had an indisputable air of authority. Hongjoong suspected this could be Donghun, the so-called Ice Prince. He was supposedly descended from a royal line which had long ago died off. And according to Seonghwa, he was close with Mansik.

“Huicheol,” Donghun addressed the familiar, “I need you to try to get back in there as soon as possible, preferably during sleeping hours. Search for hidden compartments, anything that could be helpful.”

The older familiar bowed respectfully, “Of course, Master. I will continue the search.”

Donghun added, “We really should keep an eye on Yeosang, too. He and our new Sire are… too close.”

Mansik nodded. “Of course. I don’t trust anyone here outside of you two. Even my own familiars may be compromised, I’m afraid.”

“I will notify you if Huicheol finds anything,” Donghun told Mansik. “In the meantime, keep an eye on Yeosang. And watch out for Seonghwa’s new husband. He’s a troublemaker, that one. Huicheol has seen him snooping around the manor plenty of times. The last thing we need is a Hunter on our asses, too.”

“Of course,” Mansik agreed, then he grinned and suggested, “Perhaps we should teach him a lesson.”

Donghun suddenly held a finger to shush the other two, and began glancing around suspiciously.

Hongjoong felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He covered the hole again and used the dim flame from his lighter to navigate the passageway out, trying to recall the turns he had made with San last time. After a couple of wrong turns and backtracking, and blessedly not running into San or anyone else, Hongjoong was able to exit the dark passageway. This time, however, he found himself in a completely different corridor than he had emerged into before with San.

He opened the partially completed map of the manor that he had been sketching in his notebook, and eventually realized he must be somewhere near some of the familiars’ quarters. Not wanting to be spotted, he used the map to guide himself quickly back to his rooms where he could try and dissect the information he had just overheard.

Chapter Text

When Hongjoong walked out of the bathing chamber later that night, he found Seonghwa sitting in their bed reading a book. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised at the vampire’s flighty appearances by now, but it still took him off guard.

Seonghwa glanced over at him, biting his lip as he seemed to notice that Hongjoong wore only a towel around his waist. Hongjoong froze for a second, then said, as casually as he could manage, “Oh, hello.”

Seonghwa nodded to him and buried his nose back into his book. It was too late for modesty now, so Hongjoong opened his wardrobe to retrieve his clothes. He let the towel drop after he pulled on his underwear, then quickly turned, and caught Seonghwa peeking over the edge of his book. Seonghwa turned about as red as a vampire could get, which was a lovely shade of pale pink, then shifted his body so that he faced the opposite wall.

Hongjoong giggled to himself as he pulled on his pajamas, only buttoning up half of his top. For some reason, finding new ways to fluster Seonghwa was quite entertaining. It was almost too bad that Hongjoong needed to get some more work done tonight.

Hongjoong whistled a few bars of the song he had been working on as he crossed the room to Seonghwa’s side, then leaned against the tall wooden post at the foot of the bed. Glancing around, he noticed that the room seemed to have been tidied a bit while he had been busy changing and brushing his teeth.

“I didn’t know you were musically talented until today,” Hongjoong said, crossing his arms and trying to start a neutral conversation with Seonghwa. After side-eyeing him to ensure he was sufficiently dressed, the vampire slowly turned back to face him. “I found some old sheet music you had written in the desk earlier,” Hongjoong told him. “San told me it was yours. You really have a gift.”

Seonghwa’s blush returned to his cheeks, and he closed his book and looked up at Hongjoong. “I used to sing and dance a lot, actually,” he said, pointedly glancing away from Hongjoong’s half-open shirt.

Hongjoong laughed. “Really? I would never have guessed. You’re always so serious.”

“Well, I don’t really… anymore. It’s been a while. But I actually taught Yijun to dance when we were sixteen,” Seonghwa admitted. Hongjoong’s eyes widened at the mention of his brother’s name.

“I thought,” Seonghwa continued, smiling with a heart-aching fondness, “That it would be nice if we both knew how… for our future wedding.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “He was… so bad at dancing. At first, anyways. It was fascinating, and painful, how many times he managed to step on my toes. But he never gave up, and he ended up becoming a much better dancer, after a few summers of practice.”

Hongjoong smiled, and for some reason his vision became a little blurry. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, trying to seem like he was rubbing his eyes as one does at the end of the day when fatigue begins to take over. “I think…” he told Seonghwa, “I think I’m going to stay up and work a bit tonight. There’s still so many leads and interviews I need to sift through.”

Seonghwa’s face fell as Hongjoong turned and headed towards the sitting room.

“Don’t leave me alone tonight,” the vampire said quietly, his voice tinged with misery.

Hongjoong halted in the doorway, feeling torn between his duty and the perplexing feelings he was experiencing about the vampire in the bed behind him. Hongjoong had also asked Seonghwa not to leave him alone yesterday, but the vampire still hadn’t shown up for dinner.

He still came back to you this morning.

Maybe Seonghwa had just needed time to process everything, to decide if he truly believed that Hongjoong had no intention of killing him. Seonghwa was clearly a very lonely individual. Hongjoong felt sorry for him, and for himself, for being trapped in a situation where they were so desperate for connection that they only had each other to turn to. It felt incredibly disheartening. Perhaps that stupid fairy tale had messed with Hongjoong’s head, making him feel more emotional than usual.

Hongjoong didn’t want to make Seonghwa more unhappy than he had already managed to do so far. But he worried if he said one wrong thing tonight, it could make things worse again. And why should he care if he made things worse? Wasn’t it bad enough that he was about to be living out his own nightmares? He shouldn’t care about what Seonghwa wanted. Shouldn’t care what Seonghwa needed. He was a vampire. He would survive. What Hongjoong needed was to work. But maybe… maybe staying and speaking to Seonghwa would actually help his work. Perhaps he could make an exception, just for tonight.

He turned to see Seonghwa sitting cross-legged on his side of the bed, cradling a pillow and looking downcast. It was then that Hongjoong noticed that the pink bunny from the arcade had been placed on Seonghwa’s nightstand. Something tugged at his heartstrings.

Hongjoong sighed heavily and returned to the bed.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa whispered. He cleared his throat before saying, tentatively, “I… liked talking to you this morning.”

Hongjoong allowed himself a small smile. “I did too,” he admitted truthfully. “I really appreciate how much you shared with me today, about my brother, about yourself. I know it can’t be easy for you.”

Hongjoong knew that he needed to cultivate this connection that was forming between them if he was ever going to get Seonghwa to open up about the assassination. He had not changed his mind about working tonight just because he wanted to spend more time with the vampire in his bed. It definitely was not because seeing Seonghwa blush and become shy made Hongjoong want to tease it out of him even more. And it absolutely was not because of the way Seonghwa’s soft smile gave his stomach butterflies.

Certainly not.

This was a small sacrifice, an investment, to help with his work. That was all.

Seonghwa seemed to consider something, then muttered, “Maybe we can…” He looked a little sheepish as he removed a single pillow from their customary divider wall— the one that would obscure their faces from each other when they were lying down.

He lay on his pillow facing Hongjoong, white hair splayed out behind him, the color of freshly fallen snow in the lamplight. Surprised at his boldness, but not sure if this was a good idea, Hongjoong wavered for a few seconds before finally giving in and mirroring him.

As they lay facing each other, Seonghwa smiled at him gratefully, and the sight was so beautiful that Hongjoong thought that maybe it was worth skipping his usual work tonight.

“Tell me about your other brothers now,” Seonghwa said. “The younger ones. I know next to nothing about them.”

Hongjoong shared with Seonghwa some of his favorite stories about the stupid things he and his brothers had done over the years— of his favorite birthday parties, and the time that Wooyoung had tried to adopt a wild snake and make it into a pet, but it had gotten loose in the house and scared the shit out of Mingi.

Hongjoong had to make a rule after that about no wild animals in the house. Wooyoung had pouted about it for days until Mingi had apologized and presented him with a memento necklace bearing a silver snake charm he had found at the scavenger’s market.

“He still wears it all the time,” Hongjoong said, shaking his head and chuckling.

Seonghwa murmured, “Always the troublemaker, that one.”

“Absolutely,” Hongjoong agreed. “But in the very best way.”

Seonghwa propped his head up with one hand. “Tell me about Mingi. He is so… unique. How did you recruit him?”

Hongjoong hesitated. Not a lot of people knew Mingi’s story, and Hongjoong didn’t want to go into too much detail about Mingi’s… sensitive nature. So he skipped to talking about how they had decided to induct Mingi into the Hunters.

“He lived at the orphanage in Sector 6,” Hongjoong began, “We had… rescued him and a few other kids from a bad situation, so he felt a little beholden to us. Maybe a bit awestruck, I think. He wanted to be one of us, but he was way too old to start the training at thirteen. Hunters usually start training at age eight.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in surprise as Hongjoong continued, “So anyway, every single day this kid would show up at our sparring field near the mountain lodge. He would walk around ten miles, stay for the entire session, then walk back.”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, and Hongjoong laughed. “So we had this tall, awkward boy from the City orphanage just… showing up every day. We didn’t know how he found us in the first place, and every time we kicked him out he would just go stand by the treeline and mirror what we were doing, whether he had a practice weapon or not. He would ask me every single day if we would let him join. And every single day I would tell him that it wasn’t possible and to go home. One time, we all picked him up and threw him off the dock into the lake. He just swam back to the shore and continued like it hadn’t even happened. I felt bad and gave him a blanket after, because he was shivering by the end of it. I think he wore it on the way home. He still has it.”

Seonghwa shook his head in wonder. “Yeah,” Hongjoong said, smirking. “It was incredibly exhausting, and he was annoying as hell. We even tried switching up where we held the sparring sessions, and he still always managed to find us.”

When Hongjoong had asked Mingi how he did it, Mingi had just shrugged and said he followed his nose. And that had been something that Hongjoong had been able to use later when arguing with the Commander in favor of letting Mingi join them.

“I told him over and over that he was too old to start the training,” Hongjoong continued, “And that we couldn’t break the rules just for him. That there was no way he could catch up with his age group at this stage. He took that as a challenge. He didn’t miss a single session for three months. Finally, I agreed to talk to my mom, the Commander, about it. One, because he wouldn’t shut up about it, and he had gotten Wooyoung on his side so it was all I heard about, even after he had left for the day. And two, because this gangly insufferably stubborn boy was actually starting to give me reason to believe in him.”

Seonghwa covered his mouth, hiding a smile. “So I went to the Commander about it,” Hongjoong said, “And I begged her to make an exception for him. We had already been sharing our lunches with him and letting him actually join in on some sparring for a few weeks at this point. At first it had been for pure amusement. But this kid… he was so resilient. Every single time he got knocked down, no matter how hard, he always got right back up. It was impressive as hell. Inspirational, really. So one day I dragged Mingi in front of the Commander and explained everything. We argued about it for an hour, then she kicked Mingi out of the room and we argued for another hour. Finally, she relented, with the condition that he was 100% my responsibility, along with any fuck-ups on his part. Absolutely no second chances would be given. He was assigned extra training under my supervision, and we got up early every morning to run and practice everything that he needed to catch up on. After only a year, Mingi had become one of the top Hunter trainees.”

“Wow,” Seonghwa whispered.

“Yeah, he’s incredible,” Hongjoong said, grinning proudly.

“He couldn’t have done it without you,” Seonghwa pointed out.

“Me? No, he would’ve found a way, regardless, I’m sure.”

“You advocated for him to the Commander when no one else did.”

“Wooyoung would have, if I hadn’t done it.”

“Maybe Wooyoung wouldn’t have been as persuasive as you had been.”

“Maybe. But yeah, I think I gained Mingi’s undying loyalty then. Mingi and Wooyoung elected me captain of our Junior Hunter squad when I graduated from trainee at nineteen, and we’ve been assigned to this post as a group ever since. My little brother Jongho also joined us when he turned nineteen. He is incredibly smart and hardworking— the most level-headed of all of us. He was always destined to be a Captain, I think.”

Hongjoong smiled again, but this one felt bittersweet. His brothers had all grown up to be so strong and capable. Maybe they didn’t need him anymore, after all.

Seonghwa said, “Your bond with your brothers… it’s even more special than I thought. I’m glad that you were able to train Mingi.”

“Me too.” Hongjoong agreed, feeling a pang of sorrow as he thought fondly of Mingi— how he could be the kindest, most gentle giant, but also could be incredibly formidable, even deadly, when he or his family were threatened.

Hongjoong had never once regretted advocating for Mingi to join the Hunters. It was like he had been born to be one of them— part of their brotherhood, part of their family. Mingi had been the missing piece they hadn’t known they needed at the time, and he helped hold everyone together.

Seonghwa reached out, looking uncertain, and patted the top of Hongjoong’s hand delicately. Hongjoong’s breath hitched, but he forced himself not to pull his hand away. Seonghwa was trying to connect with him, and he didn’t want to scare him off. Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice that they both still wore their matching wedding bands, and the diamonds gleamed in the lamplight when Seonghwa removed his hand. Hongjoong felt an insane urge to grab it and bring it back. Why had it felt so comforting to have Seonghwa’s hand on top of his own? And why was his heart beating so quickly?

Seonghwa studied Hongjoong’s face. “You look tired,” he observed. “You should try to sleep, husband.”

Hongjoong nodded. He could sleep for a bit just to appease Seonghwa, then get up and work some more later. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy anyway. They wished each other goodnight, then Seonghwa shut off his lamp and tugged his blankets up over his chin. Unlike before, he remained facing Hongjoong tonight.

For a long while, Hongjoong watched the peaceful face of the vampire Seonghwa— eyes closed, dark lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks, lips slightly parted, with no evidence of his perpetual brooding expression as he slept. The vampire looked so vulnerable like this, that Hongjoong felt simultaneously awestruck and protective of him. He wondered if Seonghwa had ever killed anyone. Knowing now what he did about the vampire’s disposition, Hongjoong wasn’t sure if it was possible.

Never let your guard down. He is a vampire. He was created to kill and feed upon humans, and those urges will never truly go away.

Hongjoong pushed the thoughts away, trying instead to focus on happy memories with his brothers to stave off the bad dreams.

It was morning, and once again, Hongjoong was alone. He had accidentally slept through the entire night, instead of waking up and working more like he had planned.

Last night, Hongjoong had wanted to reinforce the door by pushing furniture up against it, in case the vampires he had overheard in the library tried to sneak in while they were sleeping. But he also had not wanted to explain his suspicions to Seonghwa yet, so he had refrained, for now. If he was going to tell Seonghwa, he needed more evidence than just the conclusions he had jumped to over hearsay.

The vampire appeared to have risen early today, and had not joined Hongjoong for breakfast. Hongjoong didn’t know what more he could do to earn his trust, but he decided that he would keep trying. Building trust with Seonghwa felt like the story of the little bird who wore down a mountain, one pebble at a time. It was taking an eternity. But Hongjoong knew that he was an impatient man, and he decided that he would persist. It would eventually, hopefully, pay off in the end.

When Hongjoong asked San about Seonghwa’s whereabouts, San just said that his other Master was busy with something and had decided to take his breakfast elsewhere. Hongjoong tried not to let his mind go wild with theories. San was very protective of Seonghwa’s privacy— that was just him doing his job. He was a good, loyal familiar. But perhaps he was even more than that.

Hongjoong worked on the case until the early afternoon, before trying to think through and plot every possibility for what the vampires in the library yesterday could have been referring to. He narrowed it down to three main possibilities, given the information he currently possessed: either they wanted Seonghwa’s diary, they wanted his own case file book, or they wanted something else, possibly something that the late Sire had hidden in his quarters. Regardless of which answer was the truth, it seemed that they were up to no good.

Hongjoong debated telling Seonghwa about it once more, now that he could more definitively articulate his concerns, but he worried that roping Seonghwa into the intrigue could end up making things very dangerous for both of them. He wasn’t sure what he should do, so he decided to keep it to himself for now.

He wished he could ask his brothers or his mom for advice. He still hadn’t received a single message from them, and he was becoming increasingly suspicious that someone in the manor was intercepting them.

He decided to spend some time writing messages for each of the Coven members, asking if they would be willing to meet with him to answer questions about the Sire’s assassination. Even if they didn’t all respond to him, a lack of response could be telling. He entrusted them to San to distribute tonight when the Coven members were awake.

When Hongjoong started to get a headache, he brewed some of his mother’s tea with San’s help, and drank it until he felt a little better. His brain was still spinning, however, from all the theories he had come up with, from all the work he had yet to do, so he decided he would attempt to calm the mental barrage in the music room.

He seated himself at the grand piano once more, and began picking out the keys to the song he had written a few days ago. Eventually, his mind fell into that calm place where his creativity flourished, and he began adding more notes and embellishments to the song.

There was something missing from the second half of the song, though. It needed a bridge to break it up a bit. Hongjoong tried a couple of different things, but neither of them felt right. He sighed heavily, nearly ready to give up for the day.

Behind him, a tentative voice said, “What are you doing?”

Hongjoong turned to see Seonghwa step into the room. Today the vampire wore a long-sleeved, high-necked gray and white plaid shirt that wrapped across the front. He also sported a pair of fashionable olive trousers with a sort of half kilt of a slightly different plaid knotted at the side of his slim waist so that it hung asymmetrically.

Hongjoong smiled. “I love your outfit today,” he said genuinely, standing and approaching the vampire to look at it more closely.

Hongjoong circled Seonghwa, admiring the pieces he wore and asking if it was okay for him to touch the fabrics. Seonghwa nodded, attempting to hide his smile behind his hand as Hongjoong scrutinized the details.

“Where did you even get this?” Hongjoong asked, marveling at each little aspect of the design.

“I made it,” Seonghwa murmured, blushing.

“Really? That’s incredible,” Hongjoong said excitedly. “It’s not just about the fabrics and the pieces, it’s about the way you wear it too, that makes it so interesting. We really should make something together sometime.”

“I… would like that,” Seonghwa said, smiling softly. The butterflies in Hongjoong’s stomach returned at the sight of the vampire’s smile. “Were you… busy in here?” Seonghwa asked. “I can leave you alone, if you need me to…”

Hongjoong glanced back at the piano. “Oh yes, I’m composing a piece, but I’m stuck on a part of it, so it’s not ready yet.”

Seonghwa’s dark eyes seemed to light up with interest. “Can I hear what you have so far?” he asked.

“Sure, but it’s still fairly unpolished,” Hongjoong warned. He hesitated, then reached out and took Seonghwa by the elbow, and led him to the piano bench. The vampire followed without protest, and sat on the bench next to Hongjoong when he was directed to. He seemed a bit tense, and waited for Hongjoong to proceed.

Hongjoong counted down in his head then began playing. Seonghwa’s eyes never left Hongjoong’s hands, studying them with a discerning gaze. Hongjoong’s arm brushed against Seonghwa’s a few times as he reached for the higher notes, but Seonghwa was so engrossed by the music that he didn’t seem to notice.

When Hongjoong reached the part that he was stuck on, he paused and tried to freestyle something, but it wasn’t quite what he wanted. He sighed. “Well, that’s as far as I’ve gotten with it,” he told Seonghwa. “I want it to be somewhat melancholy with a measure of hopefulness. I’m just not sure how exactly to capture it.”

Seonghwa tilted his head curiously. “Can you play that last part one more time?” he asked. “Just start a few measures before you got stuck.”

Hongjoong played it again, and this time Seonghwa listened with his eyes closed. “One more time,” he said, without opening his eyes.

Hongjoong acquiesced, noting Seonghwa’s fingers lightly tapping out the notes on his own thighs, following along with the tune. When Hongjoong finished, Seonghwa opened his eyes. He seemed intent, focused. He raised his hands to the keys and played a few notes, tentatively at first, then with more feeling. He stopped and played them again, slightly different this time. Then once more, adjusting the ending.

“That’s it,” Hongjoong breathed, facing Seonghwa and looking at him in wonder.

“Try it all together now,” Seonghwa urged.

This time, when Hongjoong played the song all the way through, he added Seonghwa’s bridge with a few flourishes of his own, and the end of the song just came to him naturally from there. When he had sounded the last note, Seonghwa lifted his hands and clapped softly, saying, “Bravo! That was beautiful.”

“Thanks to you,” Hongjoong grinned.

Seonghwa hid a smile behind his hand. “I only helped a little bit.”

“You helped a lot, thank you,” Hongjoong bowed politely in thanks.

“What does this song mean to you?” Seonghwa asked. He carefully replayed the right hand part of the coda that Hongjoong had just created. Hongjoong watched the vampire’s slender fingers pick out the notes perfectly, fascinated by his memory and attention to detail.

“It means,” Hongjoong thought about it for a moment, of how to express it in words, “It’s about feeling alone… and trying to find the answer to happiness in life… and you don’t really know what it is… but you think that maybe you’re finding it by surrounding yourself with the people you love.”

“Oh…” Seonghwa murmured, letting his hand drop to his lap. They were both silent for a moment, until Seonghwa said, “I’m sorry for leaving you so abruptly yesterday morning. I was just… feeling a bit overwhelmed after our talk about your brother.”

Hongjoong swallowed hard, then said, “It’s okay. I understand, really.” He paused, watching some of the tension diffuse from Seonghwa’s posture. “I will always love my brother. I will always be sad about what happened. But yesterday… I was also sad for you. For what you lost. Not just my brother but… all of it.”

Seonghwa didn’t respond, but remained staring at the keys in front of him with his head bowed. Hongjoong felt awful for saying anything. For reminding him of what he probably tried every day to forget or ignore. He reached out slowly, and lifted Seonghwa’s chin, turning the vampire’s head towards him with the lightest touch of his fingertips. They matched each other’s gaze for a moment, and Hongjoong finally recognized the look of perpetual grief in Seonghwa’s eyes.

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

Up until now, he had thought of Seonghwa as being persistently aloof or even apathetic. But that had just been how Hongjoong had interpreted this look, before he had gotten to know the vampire a little better.

Seonghwa was continuously veiling his sorrow.

“I’m so sorry, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said softly, with sincerity. “I’m sorry that you ended up with me. You deserve so much more.”

Seonghwa blinked, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. Hongjoong felt like all the breath had been stolen out of him. He had been such a terrible husband to Seonghwa that he had managed to make a vampire cry. He hadn’t even known it was possible. Seonghwa seemed so incredibly human to Hongjoong in this moment.

Hongjoong lifted his hand cautiously, then he gently wiped the tear away with his thumb. Seonghwa’s dark lashes glistened, damp with the rest of his unshed tears. Hongjoong couldn’t help himself.

He leaned forward and kissed his husband’s cheek.

Seonghwa went still as death when Hongjoong planted the kiss. It was just the faintest brush of his lips against Seonghwa’s cold, pale cheek. He studied Seonghwa’s face for a reaction. Had he just made things worse, again?

Seonghwa let out the smallest, most forlorn sigh Hongjoong had ever heard. Then he fled from the room.

Chapter Text

Today, Wooyoung entered the manor in the mid-afternoon, when most or all of the Coven members were most likely to be asleep. He avoided several of the vampires’ familiars that he spotted moving through the manor’s halls, probably on their way to perform whatever creepy duties their masters had given them. One of them even had a large bandage on their neck, which made Wooyoung shudder. He really hoped that Hongjoong was okay. He had to trust that his former Captain could handle himself. But that didn’t mean that Wooyoung didn’t want to check on him, just to be sure.

It wasn’t too long before Wooyoung was able to locate San, the hottie familiar, walking purposefully down a corridor. Wooyoung hid himself around corners and secreted himself behind tapestries and weird statues or art displays in the alcoves that dotted the halls as he tailed the familiar from the ground floor to a corridor on the second floor. San eventually entered a room with a heavy, ornate-looking wooden door, and Wooyoung waited. When San emerged with a cart full of half-eaten dishes, Wooyoung lingered, hiding in the alcove until the familiar turned the corner and the sound of the cart’s wheels faded away.

First, he tried to turn the door handle. It was locked, as expected, but he had learned to always check before overcomplicating things. Next, he glanced up and down the empty corridor, then he raised his fist and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He tried once more, to no avail, before pulling out his lockpicking tools and getting to work.

After only a few seconds of fiddling with the lock, a hand closed over the back of Wooyoung’s neck and yanked him backwards. Wooyoung barely had time to secret his tools away and pull out his knife before San wrenched his arm back, forcing him to drop the knife. San swooped down and pocketed Wooyoung’s blade, keeping Wooyoung’s arm trapped behind him as he yanked Wooyoung further away from the door. Wooyoung yelped in pain as he struggled against San’s iron grip. He thought perhaps if Hongjoong was nearby, if he could just hear Wooyoung yelling, maybe he would come running.

“HONGJOONG-AH HELP–”

San’s other hand clamped over Wooyoung’s mouth, stifling his desperate cry. Wooyoung tried to bite the familiar’s hand, but San wrenched Wooyoung’s arm back even harder, threatening to permanently damage something if he didn’t stop. Wooyoung cursed him out, but it was muffled, so his colorful use of language wasn’t as effective as he would have liked. San laughed at him as he dragged Wooyoung down the stairs. Wooyoung kicked and fought him only half-heartedly, because he really couldn’t afford to get his arm broken over this.

At the bottom of the wide stairwell near the manor’s main entrance, they nearly collided with a tall, dark-haired woman. Her jewel-like blue eyes locked onto them curiously and she smiled, revealing sharp fangs. She was one of the Coven, surprisingly awake during the day. Damnit, couldn’t the creeps inside the manor just stick to a regular schedule like the guards outside did?

“What’s this, then?” she asked, her eyes glimmering with amusement. She had a musical voice, and a faint, strange accent.

Wooyoung managed to tear his mouth free of San’s grasp and said, “Help! I’m being kidnap–”

San’s hand slammed back down over Wooyoung’s mouth, and the familiar said, “Don’t worry about it… we’re on a date.” He smiled cheekily at Wooyoung and said, “Isn’t that right, darling?” Wooyoung scowled and tried to kick him, while unleashing a few more muffled obscenities. San dodged his kick without losing his grip, and continued to drag Wooyoung backwards across the large foyer towards the front door. Wooyoung’s shoes squeaked against the tile as he struggled. The vampire smirked at him, then she turned and disappeared into a corridor near the wide stairwell.

Outside, San tossed Wooyoung onto the gravel driveway in front of the derelict fountain. Wooyoung scrambled to his feet, brushing the dirt off his coat and inspecting it for damage.

“This is real leather, for fuck’s sake, have some care,” Wooyoung chided the familiar. “Do you know how much shit I had to steal just to afford this?”

“Yeah, I bet it took you two whole days to get enough,” San said, crossing his arms and looking down at Wooyoung.

“Three, actually,” Wooyoung corrected him, grinning. He attempted to walk around San, and the man halted his movement with a heavy hand to Wooyoung’s chest. “Let me back inside,” Wooyoung demanded. “I just want to talk.”

“I told you, no strays,” San said, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. The familiar was in his white shirtsleeves again, looking like he had been melted and poured into the fitted fabric. How was it possible that his waist was so small, with enormous shoulders like that? Wooyoung needed to figure out who the Coven’s tailor was and congratulate them for making the most basic of dress shirts look slutty as hell on this familiar.

Wooyoung leaned into San’s hand, stepping forward and pressing himself up against the man. He walked his fingers up San’s muscular chest. San smiled down at him as Wooyoung asked petulantly, “Why do you care if I talk to him or not? It’s not gonna hurt anything.”

San sighed and grabbed both of Wooyoung’s hands, the one tracing his chest muscles and the one slipping into his pocket. “I’m just following orders,” he replied. He yanked the key out of Wooyoung’s grasp and put it in his back trouser pocket. It was almost as if he wanted Wooyoung to grope his ass. “I’m sure you’re going to tempt Master Hongjoong to run away,” the familiar added. “That can’t happen. Our factions need a united front right now.”

Wooyoung pushed his lower lip into a pout and pulled one of his hands free. He poked at San’s cheek and said, “I just wanted to update him on some things, that’s all.” San leaned his face away from Wooyoung, but it almost seemed half-hearted. Like he was enjoying being touched and pretending that he wasn’t.

“What things?” San demanded.

“Hunter things. None of your business.” Wooyoung leaned in closer and whispered, “Did you deliver my message to your precious Sire? We’re still waiting for a response.”

San sighed and rolled his eyes, pushing Wooyoung off his chest but maintaining his grip on Wooyoung’s hands. “Sure, I did,” San answered, keeping Wooyoung’s hands trapped as he tried to wrest them away. “Now it’s time for you to go.”

Wooyoung stopped struggling for the moment and fluttered his eyelashes at San. “What, no kiss goodbye?” He pressed himself against San again and looked up at him reprovingly as he tore his hands free and encircled San’s waist. “You’re so bad at planning dates, San-ah,” he crooned. “Maybe you should just let me be in charge.”

San pushed him away again and took a step back. “Stop trying to steal stuff from me, you insane asshole!” He lunged forward when he spotted the key in Wooyoung’s hand and tore it out of his grasp.

Wooyoung let him have that one. Then he lifted his empty palms in feigned innocence. “Okay, okay, you got me. You’re no fun, San-ah. Maybe you could use a little more insane asshole in your life.” He smiled and wiggled his tongue suggestively at San, and a delightfully deep blush blossomed on the man’s cheeks.

San grabbed Wooyoung by the shirt and pulled him towards the front gate while keeping him at arm’s length, then tossed him out and slammed the enormous gate shut behind him. San clapped his hands against each other like he was cleaning them off and called through the iron bars, “Don’t come back. I won’t be so gentle with you next time.”

Wooyoung grinned widely. “I’m counting on it.” He flourished his knife that he had retrieved from San and winked at him.

San shook his head and turned away, but Wooyoung caught him smiling.

Later that evening, when Wooyoung had returned to the Hunter’s safehouse in Center City, he placed his tools on the dining table and began carefully taking apart the large key he’d stolen off San today. This one was different from the smaller ones he had taken before– it was for a different kind of lock. Wooyoung was going to figure out what kind of protective physical and electronic mechanisms were hidden in these deceptively simple looking keys, then he was going to figure out how to duplicate and subvert them, so he could have access to all of the rooms in the manor whenever he wanted. If the Coven wasn’t going to assist the Hunters in the murder investigation, Wooyoung was going to help them and Hongjoong by taking matters into his own hands.

The apartment door opened, and Jongho entered with a sack of something that smelled like fresh street food from the cart on the corner. Wooyoung’s mouth watered. He hadn’t realized how long he had been sitting here working.

“Have you seen or heard from Mingi yet?” Jongho asked him as he set the food on the table and began stripping himself of his weapons.

“Uh, no, I figured he went to get food with you or something,” Wooyoung replied, furrowing his brow.

“He should be back by now,” Jongho said, pausing the removal of his gear.

“Should we go look for him? Maybe he got impatient and decided to sweep my sectors too?” Wooyoung suggested.

“I’ll go look for him,” Jongho said, after surveying the mess of instruments and electronic bits Wooyoung had spread across the table. “You eat something and wait for him here, in case I miss him.”

Wooyoung was already digging the food out of the sack. “Will do, Captain. Don’t stay out too long. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah. See you in a few.”

“See ya.”

Wooyoung picked at his food and worked on his key disassembly and duplication into the early hours of the morning before he started to get worried.

When Jongho finally showed back up, a couple of hours before sunrise, Wooyoung jolted awake from his resting place on the sofa. The Captain was alone.

“Where’s Mingi?” Wooyoung asked, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Did you find him?”

Jongho’s voice was unusually sharp and stern as he said, “Get your coat on and come with me. Now.”

Adrenaline spiked Wooyoung’s heart, and he jolted upright, fully awake now. Had something bad happened to Mingi? He pulled on his boots, grabbed his coat, and rushed after Jongho, who was already descending the stairs.

Chapter Text

Mingi tucked the message he had found in the pinball machine deeper into the inner pocket of his long coat. He would need to decipher it back at the apartment, but he was just happy that Hongjoong had been able to leave them a message.

When he had stopped by the last drop point in Sector 9, Mingi had been pleasantly surprised to see one of Hongjoong’s tags on the front of the old arcade building. He was excited to tell Jongho and Wooyoung that their search had finally been successful.

He took one of the auto-trams back to Center City, then headed up to the cross streets in Sector 12 that Kima had directed him to yesterday. The trams in Sector 12 had long stopped being operational, so Mingi made his way on foot, walking for nearly an hour through the dilapidated district, past derelict buildings and the crumbling remnants of a long-forgotten era.

Thankfully, his search proved fruitful this time, and the vendor named Ford led him around the corner to a side alley where he sold Mingi the last of the heat suppressants at triple the usual price. Mingi didn’t even care at this point, he was just happy to have gotten them.

As he shouldered his pack and slipped out of the alley with his supply, Mingi noticed that something seemed off. It was too quiet, even for this part of the city. He inhaled deeply, and was concerned by the faint smell he was able to pick up– the sweat of nervous tension mingled with the overwhelming smells from the food vendors. Mingi glanced back at Ford’s stall, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

Mingi continued walking, but turned his head slightly, watching the adjacent alley out of the corner of his eye. At first it seemed like nothing unusual, but for just a second a shadow stirred near the edge. He thought he saw movement on the rooftop of the dilapidated apartment building next to the alley. And again, a few buildings down, on a second rooftop.

Mingi maintained a brisk pace towards the abandoned subway stairs at the end of the block, hoping to slip in and cut through the underground to make it harder for whoever was following him. He could shake them if he made it to Center City, where he knew the streets like the back of his hand.

He leapt the barricade and descended the steps into the subway rapidly. The air down here was close and full of an amalgamation of interesting smells. Rats most certainly lived down here. Sometimes people came down here and pissed on the rusting railway below, but it was generally considered too dangerous an area for camping, though sometimes people risked it if they were desperate enough.

After Mingi took a few turns to try to shake his stalkers, he halted dead in his tracks. His senses were assaulted by the distinctive smells of carbon steel, lead, and… gunpowder.

He turned and ran.

His pursuers abandoned their hiding spots in the shadows of the crumbling tunnel, and Mingi heard at least six sets of footsteps after him. He ducked into an adjacent hallway, vaulted a rubble pile, and leapt down the stairs to a loading platform.

Even more footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs. Mingi dropped down onto the tracks and dashed into the darkness of the old train tunnel.

He blinked a few times, still sprinting as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He glanced over his shoulder to catch sight of a few people dashing into the tunnel after him. His heart nearly jumped into his throat as he saw several more figures also approaching from ahead. Realizing he was being surrounded, Mingi skidded to a halt. He breathed in deeply as he unholstered both pistols. He was being pursued by Wolves.

Mingi let out a defiant yell as he pulled the triggers, shooting in both directions at once. The world seemed to slow for him as a secondary surge of adrenaline hit. Two of the figures went down.

Mingi’s eyes were fully adjusted to the dark now. The Wolves pulled out their weapons. Some had guns, others wicked looking cudgels, and there was at least one on either side of Mingi touting strange-looking long-barreled guns. Mingi sniffed. They seemed to be made out of scrap parts. Something about them smelled familiar, though.

Oddly enough, the Wolves didn’t shoot back at Mingi… yet. They continued to close in around him as more and more of them poured into the tunnel on either side of him.

Mingi unloaded the entirety of both pistol clips into their ranks. Several of them went down, but those who remained rushed at Mingi. Holstering his weapons, he started throwing punches. He dodged behind someone with a cudgel and grabbed the sides of their head from behind and twisted with all his might until he heard a snap. They dropped like a sack of flour.

A couple of the Wolves stepped back for a moment, seeming intimidated by the sight of their companion on the ground with their neck twisted at an impossible angle.

Mingi bellowed, “What are you waiting for, fuckers?!”

He charged into the midst of them, knocking both of them down with the sheer force of his momentum. He stomped on one of their necks with a resulting sickly crunch, then blocked the swing of the other’s cudgel with an armbar and punched the attacker in the face.

Blood from their broken nose coated Mingi’s knuckles and he laughed, spinning to dodge and counter two more Wolves approaching from behind. How many people had they sent after him? This was definitely more than a simple ambush.

Something sharp thwacked into the side of Mingi’s neck. He pulled it out immediately and realized with alarm that it was a large tranquilizer dart. That explained the strange-looking guns and the familiar smell. He located the shooter and charged right for them. They shot another dart, but he was ready for it and dodged just in time, without even stopping his charge.

The shooter gave him an oh shit look before dropping his gun and turning to run, but Mingi was faster. He caught the shooter by the shoulder and spun him around, decking him in the face. Mingi took a second to whip out the sawed-off shotgun he carried on his back as more figures closed in on him from the tunnel entrance.

He needed to get out of here. The sheer amount of people down here was more than he had ever been up against. He decided to go deeper into the tunnel, since there seemed to be fewer Wolves that way than what he’d noticed pouring in from the tunnel opening.

He shot off a few slugs at the pursuers near the entrance, but holding his shotgun up was beginning to feel difficult. He had to get out of here before the full effects of the tranquilizer hit him. His feet felt heavier than usual as he took off down the tunnel, shooting at two more Wolves.

Something stabbed him in the bicep. Another dart. He ripped it out with a furious cry and continued running down the tunnel until three more Wolves approached him. He shot two of them, but ran out of shotgun shells before he could take down the third.

The third person dove right at him, and Mingi was just a bit too slow to dodge. Both of them tumbled to the ground. Mingi caught them with an uppercut to the jaw, dropping them instantly. The entire world started spinning as Mingi dragged himself to his feet.

Keep moving, he urged himself. Can’t stop moving. Need to find a maintenance tunnel.

Some sort of heavy chain net dropped onto Mingi from above, knocking him off balance. He crashed down to his knees as he struggled to remove the weighty snare.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

But he wasn’t a kid this time. He was a Hunter now. He’d gotten stronger and more capable. He could find a way out of this. Mingi thought of his brothers cheering him on, of Hongjoong telling him that he believed in him, to stave off the panic as he struggled to throw the chains off. He could do this.

He found the edge of the net and lifted it with a ferocious yell, tossing it over his head and stepping back out into freedom. More Wolves closed in around him, and another dart struck him in the chest right above his heart. With that, Mingi finally dropped. The side of his face smacked the concrete as he narrowly missed hitting his head on the tracks. He couldn’t move his arms. Panic began to overwhelm him. Another net dropped and tightened around him, and Mingi passed out.

When Mingi came to, he found himself in a tiny windowless cell with his wrists and ankles chained to the wall. His coat and backpack were gone, and his white t-shirt was torn and covered in spatters of blood, most of which wasn’t his own. He groaned and pulled himself up into a sitting position, still reeling from the effects of being shot with multiple tranquilizer darts. He had an uncanny ability to recover quickly from such things, but the sheer amount of sedatives had been able to overwhelm his system, apparently.

He heard low voices outside the room: “...fucking giant Omega freak killed six Wolves and sent seventeen to the hospital. They don’t think Leonard is gonna make it. We should teach the freak a fucking lesson.”

Mingi took a moment to digest what they had said. Six dead and seventeen wounded. He wished he had done more. They could never pay enough.

A painfully bright light flickered to life overhead as the cell door clanged open and two Wolves entered the room, brandishing heavy cudgels.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t the fucking demon of the tunnels himself,” said one of the Wolves. He had a painful looking scar across his face and carried a bucket in his free hand. The other Wolf, a slightly smaller man, glared at Mingi with venom in his eyes. Mingi caught a whiff of their scents. The larger man was an Alpha, and the smaller a Beta.

The Alpha tossed the bucket at Mingi saying, “I guess we have to make sure the freak doesn’t starve. Eat up, cocksucker.” The bucket toppled over next to Mingi and spilled a foul smelling stew onto the floor.

“Can’t wait to ship it off to where it belongs,” snarled the Beta. “Only good use for a huge Omega is to breed it full of new Alphas. He’s so freakishly large I bet he could hold more pups than any other Omega. Bet he’d even enjoy it.”

Mingi braced himself against the wall and stood carefully to his feet. He tried to speak, but it came out as a mumble.

“Eh, what’s that?” asked the larger man, tapping his ear and giving Mingi a mocking grin. “Can’t hear you, freak.”

Mingi cleared his throat and tried again. “I said,” his low voice rumbled, “Why don’t you come over here and find out what I did to your fucking friends.”

The Beta laughed nervously. “You ain’t got your guns no more, boy. You don’t scare us.”

“Yeah?” Mingi tilted his head and puffed up his chest. “Then step up, bitch.”

The Alpha snarled, then stepped forward and swung his cudgel. Mingi caught it and ripped it out of his hands. The idiot had fallen for him acting weaker than he really felt. The Alpha cursed as Mingi flipped the cudgel and backhanded him across the face so hard that his neck twisted almost all the way around. He thudded to the ground, then Mingi made eye contact with the Beta and smiled mercilessly.

The smaller Wolf bolted for the cell door, but Mingi threw the cudgel and hit him square in the back of the head. He collapsed to the floor mid-stride. Mingi lunged forward as far as the chains allowed and was able to grab the prone man’s ankle. The Beta appeared to come back to consciousness as Mingi began dragging him backwards, and he let out a choked yell as Mingi locked an arm around him.

“Fuck you,” Mingi said, and snapped the Wolf’s neck, silencing his yell forever.

Mingi began digging frantically through the man’s pockets for keys. Once he found a keyring, he began hastily trying each one on his shackles until he found the one that fit. Hope sparked in his heart. He was going to get out of here. He wasn’t a helpless kid anymore. They couldn’t keep him here. He had sworn he’d never let them take him alive again.

He had three out of four shackles unlocked when hurried footsteps began smacking the pavement outside the cell as several more people approached. Mingi popped the final shackle loose and pocketed the keys. He grabbed both cudgels and and flattened himself against the wall that the door would open towards.

When the next group of Wolves burst into the cell, Mingi attacked.

The two guards that rushed in first were Alphas. They were much stronger and faster than the first one had been, and provided Mingi with an actual challenging fight. Mingi finally took one of them down with a solid blow to the temple. Mingi managed to kick the other Alpha back, snapping the man’s lower leg with a satisfying crunch.

Suddenly, Mingi’s legs gave out and he dropped involuntarily to the floor, convulsing with excruciating pain. His body completely gave up on him as he was attacked on all sides by guards equipped with modified high-voltage cattle prods. It took every bit of strength he had left to clench his arms protectively over his head as they began ruthlessly kicking and punching him.

Just when he thought the barrage would never end, a final kick to the head knocked him unconscious.

Mingi woke up in more pain than he had ever been in his life. He felt like he had been thrown off a cliff, then run over by a vehicle, then that vehicle had backed over him again a few more times, for good measure.

When he tried to move, he found out that he had been restrained on some type of gurney. There were an excessive amount of straps and metal shackles holding him down. He flexed and pulled against the bonds, but found that he couldn’t move anything except his head.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed under his breath, blinking against the bright light shining down on him from above. He seemed to be in a small windowless room with a table full of things he really didn’t want to see up close, and nothing else.

The door swung open, and Mingi turned his head, pain screaming through his heavily bruised cheek as it brushed the side of the gurney. The inside of his mouth tasted like stale blood, and he wondered if he was missing any teeth or had any broken bones. Everything hurt so badly that he couldn’t even isolate any specific sources of pain.

A tall, svelte man with short, silvery blue hair entered the room and shut the door behind him. Mingi studied the smooth ivory skin of the man’s youthful face. His eyes seemed green at first, but they shone with a tinge of golden brown when the light caught them. His scent and his gait seemed familiar to Mingi, but he couldn’t quite place where he could have known this man from. The man was an Alpha, perhaps slightly taller than Mingi, with broad shoulders that could probably rival Mingi’s in size.

“Apologies for the contraption. They didn’t have a straitjacket big enough for you,” the man said, watching Mingi carefully for a reaction.

Mingi turned his head and spat at the Alpha’s feet.

“Ah, I figured you’d be like that,” the man said with a delighted chuckle. His eyes wandered over Mingi’s face and body, assessing.

Mingi felt the panic rising in his chest and began struggling with all of his might to break himself free of the restraints. No matter how he heaved and pulled, they wouldn’t give way. He couldn’t go back to this. He had sworn they would never take him alive again.

This had somehow been a set-up. Those Wolves had been waiting for him. There had been so many of them waiting for him. Why had there been so many? Why was their Den Mother allowing this? This had to be one of the unsanctioned trafficking groups. But since when had they gained such numbers? How had they rebuilt what the Hunters and Den Mother had been dismantling for years, and so quickly?

Mingi couldn’t breathe. He began gasping desperately for air as tears filled his eyes.

The Alpha smacked him across the face, and an explosion of pain lit up the inside of Mingi’s skull. He was startled into breathing normally again, tears spilling down his face unbidden. He was going to throw up. He would rather die than be here right now.

His captor peered down at him, partially blocking out the bright light from overhead. “You are a very interesting person, Song Mingi.”

At the sound of his own name, Mingi let out a choked sob and shouted, “Fucking let me go!”

The Alpha grabbed his face in his large hand, fingers pressing into Mingi’s bruised cheeks. Mingi flinched, but the man held on tightly, forcing Mingi to look at him.

“Pull yourself together, Omega,” he said, and the command rippled through Mingi’s entire body and soul. He focused on his breathing until the man released his face.

“Good,” the Alpha smiled. “Now I have some questions for you.”

Mingi gave him a pained glare. “Fuck off.”

“Manners,” the Alpha chided. “You may refer to me as either Mr. Jeong or Alpha.” He leaned closer to Mingi and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

After a moment he said, “First and foremost, you were found with illegal heat suppressants on your person. Were they for yourself?”

Mingi cringed. “They were… for a friend,” he lied, even though the Alpha already knew the truth.

The Alpha, Jeong, crossed his arms, and frowned down at Mingi with a look of intense displeasure.

“Don’t start off by lying to me, Omega,” he chided. Mingi felt irritated that the Alpha’s disapproval bothered him. It was just stupid Wolf dynamics, built into his DNA. He did his best to ignore his body’s natural instincts. But everything felt so amplified right now. It had been so long since Mingi had been around one of his own.

The Alpha leaned close to Mingi’s face. Too close. Mingi was overwhelmed by the scent of him– one that he had been trying so hard to dismiss. It was a bright, fruity musk— orange and mint, with hints of comforting lavender. Mingi’s brain felt like it was going haywire, making him feel things he shouldn’t. He closed his eyes and turned his head away.

“You’ll be in heat soon, won’t you?” the Alpha observed.

Mingi cracked his eyes open and looked up at Jeong, pleading, “The Hunters will come for me. They’ll make you regret this. So please… just let me go.”

Jeong lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think any Hunters will be coming here.” He took a water bottle with a straw from the table and lifted it to Mingi’s face.

He tapped Mingi’s lips with his index finger and ordered, “Open. Take a drink.” Mingi obeyed. But only because he felt he was about to die of thirst.

He glared into the man’s eyes as he put his lips to the straw. The man watched him with an unflinching stare. His cupid’s bow lips made him look like one of those pretty models right out of Hongjoong’s antique fashion magazines. Why the fuck was Mingi thinking about how pretty this Alpha was right now? It had to be the onset of his heat, addling his mind. Making him crazy.

And then… Mingi recognized the man. Jeong. But with sandy blonde hair, even paler skin, and his face looking more… ageless. Brown eyes, a black suit, hair half-combed back, with a neat fringe.

This man had been at Hongjoong’s wedding. Sitting at the new Sire’s right hand.

Mingi’s vision began to go black around the edges just as another person stepped into the room. Jeong’s voice was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong studied himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth the next morning. He hadn’t seen Seonghwa for the rest of the day after the vampire had fled the music room. He wasn’t even sure if Seonghwa had slept in their room last night.

The vampire seemed to be an extremely tidy person, so perhaps he had slept in the bed last night after Hongjoong had fallen asleep, and simply remade his side neatly and left before Hongjoong woke up. But Hongjoong couldn’t be sure. The only clue he had was that the pink bunny was still on Seonghwa’s nightstand, so he didn’t appear to have relocated to the basement again. Hongjoong was learning that he really couldn’t predict what Seonghwa would do next, so it was probably best to just be patient and let the vampire come to him when he was ready.

Hongjoong combed his fingers through his hair, playing with a couple of different stylings. He eventually decided that he was tired of this length of hair, so he was going to do something about it today. He rang the bell for San, and explained his plan to the familiar. When San returned with the required tools, they went to work.

After several minutes of buzzing, cutting, and final touches, Hongjoong inspected his new haircut in the mirror– the closely cropped undercut on the sides transitioned into a longer cut on top. He played around with styling the longer hair on top of his head, settling for a breezy, tousled look. It seemed to suit his facial structure well, emphasizing his sleek jawline.

San admired their joint effort as they scrutinized it in the floor-length bathing chamber mirror. “I like how this turned out,” he said, glimpsing over Hongjoong’s shoulder into the mirror. “You look very handsome.”

“Thank you, San,” Hongjoong said, smiling at him. “I suppose you’re a miracle worker.”

San blushed demurely and replied, “Not much needs to be done to make you look pretty.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Do you speak to all of the Coven members like this?”

San shifted nervously. “No, Master, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Hongjoong brushed a few pieces of freshly cut hair off his bare shoulders. “You didn’t,” he reassured the familiar. “It’s okay. You can speak openly with me, whenever you want. I always appreciate your help.”

San bowed, seeming relieved. “In that case, there was one thing I have been wanting to ask you about.”

Hongjoong pulled his casual white button-up shirt back on, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows and fastening all but the top two buttons so that his layered gold chain necklaces were visible. Each of them had been birthday gifts from his brothers over the years, and they made a nice complimentary set when worn together.

San stood nervously clasping his hands as if unsure whether to proceed.

“Go on,” Hongjoong urged, half tucking his shirt into his dark jeans, and adjusting how the fabric lay a few times until it looked alright.

“I’ve noticed,” San began hesitantly, “That you seem to be very… capable. Skilled with weapons and such. As expected for a Hunter.”

Hongjoong side-eyed San as he tried on a few different belts in the mirror, wondering where San was going with this. “Yes… and?” Hongjoong prodded.

“Well, I was wondering if you would like someone to continue honing your skills with. Maybe someone that you could teach a thing or two along the way?”

Hongjoong turned to face San directly. “Do you want to spar with me, San?”

San lowered his eyes and nodded, seeming mildly embarrassed. “I’ve always admired the way that Hunters are trained to fight,” he admitted. “And I thought maybe you would like someone to help keep your skills sharp, since you live here now.”

Hongjoong considered for a moment. “I would love that, but I don’t think I have the right equipment with me for a friendly sparring match. I suppose we could practice fighting unarmed, but where would we do it? Outside in the garden?”

San’s resulting smile could have lit up the room. “Master, I think you will enjoy what I’m about to show you next.”

“Call me Hongjoong, please,” Hongjoong insisted.

“Okay… Master Hongjoong,” San said uncertainly.

“I meant…” Hongjoong sighed. “Nevermind.”

San led Hongjoong down the corridor, took a few turns, then removed a key from his pocket and unlocked a set of solid double doors. The familiar pushed the doors so that they swung inward, revealing an enormous room.

Hongjoong and San stepped inside, and electric lights flickered to life overhead. Hongjoong looked up in surprise, then took in the contents of the room. The center of the room was covered by a series of enormous sparring mats, while the walls of the room were lined with every possible practice weapon he could imagine, along with some real ones and a set of practice dummies and targets.

“Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath. He turned to San excitedly and said, “This is incredible!”

San smiled eagerly, seeming both relieved and elated by Hongjoong’s reaction. “I’m glad you like it, Master! I wish I had thought to show you sooner. I know that you’re bored often, so maybe this will provide you with a good physical outlet for your energy. And it’s a productive way to pass the time.”

“San, you’re a genius,” Hongjoong declared.

San and Hongjoong sparred for nearly an hour, trying out many of the different practice weapons. When the floor nearby became stacked high with the various fighting implements that they had tried and discarded, they decided to fight hand-to-hand for a bit.

San had removed his spectacles and changed into sparring clothes– a set of simple black track pants and a white tank top that revealed his insanely chiseled chest, arm, and shoulder muscles. Hongjoong had to bite his tongue so as to not make a compliment that would go to the man’s head. Maybe he should have. It was rather distracting. But Hongjoong was also used to sparring with Mingi, who was just an enormous, even thicker version of San, so he was fairly immune to such distractions. Most of the time.

San was an excellent sparring partner. The familiar definitely knew what he was doing. It was almost as good as sparring with a Hunter. He had a completely different fighting style than Hongjoong– his powerful, sharp strikes contrasted with the smooth fluidity of his footwork in a way that fascinated Hongjoong. He seemed to be some kind of classically trained martial artist. Today’s exercise with San solidified Hongjoong’s suspicions that San was not just a familiar to Seonghwa, but a bodyguard.

Hongjoong and San both had a lot of techniques that they could learn from each other. Where San was sheer power and overwhelming attacks combined with the mobility of a dancer, Hongjoong was uncannily agile and patient, dodging or mitigating with ease the sort of blows that would incapacitate a person of lesser skill. When he did strike, it was calculated and debilitating. Hongjoong had long studied all of the weak points of both human and monster both on and off the field, and had become an expert at applying this knowledge to enact precise, crippling strikes.

They both did their best not to actually injure each other. This was for practice, not for survival, after all, so they established a few ground rules to avoid anything of the sort. The most they would have the next day were a few bruises, which was definitely worth it. It felt so good for Hongjoong to exercise his skills again.

He blocked one of San’s strikes, then swept the man’s legs out from under him with a swift kick. San hit the mat hard, then somersaulted backwards onto his feet in no time. He was resilient like Mingi. Agile like Wooyoung. Strong like Jongho. Hongjoong found himself grinning more than he had in a long time. He was genuinely having fun.

San’s eyes were suddenly drawn to the room’s entrance. He dropped his defensive stance and bowed, assuming his usual submissive posture. “Hello, Master Seonghwa,” he called. “Would you like to come join us?”

Hongjoong dropped his fists and turned to see Seonghwa leaning in the doorway. The vampire wore a pair of dark, cuffed blue jeans and a plain white tee beneath a long cardigan covered in geometric patterns in varying shades of blue and red. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail today, with a few face-framing strands hanging free. Even when he was dressed casually, the vampire looked effortlessly chic.

“How long have you been standing there?” Hongjoong asked him, motioning for him to come further into the room.

Seonghwa’s cheeks were faintly pink. “Not long,” he replied, and Hongjoong suspected that wasn’t completely the truth.

“Oh really?” Hongjoong grinned, placing a hand on his hip. “Are you sure you didn’t just lose track of time while enjoying the show?” He gave Seonghwa a playful wink as the vampire approached them.

Seonghwa made a face that was the closest thing to an eye roll without actually being one. He stood in front of Hongjoong and crossed his arms. “You cut your hair,” he observed.

Hongjoong ran a hand over the back of his head. “San helped me. Do you like it?”

“What are you two doing here?” Seonghwa asked, ignoring the question. Hongjoong scowled. Did Seonghwa hate his new haircut? It wasn’t like it mattered. Hongjoong hadn’t been trying to impress him or anything.

San bowed and said, “Master Hongjoong is teaching me how to fight like a Hunter. And we are of course keeping up with our physical fitness.”

Seonghwa nodded in approval, then removed his cardigan, folded it, and placed it on a bench. He eyed the pile of discarded practice weapons nearby, then walked over and took something from it. He tossed a practice dagger resembling a Hunter’s knife to Hongjoong, who was surprised, but still managed to catch it. Seonghwa pointed a second practice dagger at Hongjoong and said, “Teach me.”

Hongjoong felt a thrill run through his entire body. “Really?” he asked. What had gotten into Seonghwa today? This was not exactly the reaction Hongjoong had expected, especially after what had happened yesterday.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it,” Seonghwa replied, smirking.

“Okay, let’s start with the basics like I did with San, so I can see how much you know.”

Hongjoong assumed Seonghwa’s fighting style would be like his everyday comportment– all fluidity and grace. But Seonghwa shocked him with the sheer ferocity of his attacks. He wasn’t quite like Mingi— he fought with more of a blend of Mingi’s fierceness sprinkled with Wooyoung’s nimbleness. Hongjoong found it very entertaining to fight him. He was surprisingly strong, and could be unpredictable.

As they sparred, San alternated cheering for each Master from the sideline. Hongjoong began to feel annoyed because Seonghwa still hadn’t broken a sweat. Perhaps it was impossible for vampires to sweat– Hongjoong had never really thought about it before. But he wanted Seonghwa to feel challenged, to actually need to exert himself to defeat Hongjoong. He was also curious to assess the vampire’s true capabilities.

Hongjoong recalled how quickly Seonghwa had pinned him the other day in the basement. Hongjoong had been ready for him, but they both had held themselves back. Thankfully. If they ever were to actually fight, would Seonghwa stand a chance? With the way the vampire was fighting right now, Hongjoong thought he just might, but only if Hongjoong was forced to fight without any of his Hunter weapons.

In spite of his lack of training, Seonghwa’s exceptional reflexes allowed him to match Hongjoong blow for blow in their sparring match. Nearly. Hongjoong still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He almost overwhelmed Seonghwa twice, but the vampire just managed to parry, so Hongjoong feinted and tried one of his surprise moves on Seonghwa. It started with a flurry of blows and ended with Hongjoong tackling the vampire to the floor and disarming him. The thing about being a Hunter was there was no such thing as fighting fair. You fought to win, or you died.

Hongjoong pressed the tip of the practice dagger against Seonghwa’s throat, and Seonghwa tapped out, surrendering the round. Hongjoong remained on top of him for a moment, considering enacting a bit of lighthearted revenge for when the vampire had pinned him in the basement.

Seonghwa lay on the mat with his throat exposed and his lips slightly parted, panting. His slender waist was trapped between Hongjoong’s thighs. Hongjoong found that he quite enjoyed this view of his husband. He was mesmerized by the sheen of perspiration now present on Seonghwa’s long, graceful neck. So vampires could break a sweat.

Seonghwa’s dark eyes were fixed upon the hand holding the dagger to his throat. He eventually glanced up when Hongjoong didn’t move for a while after he had tapped out.

“I yielded,” Seonghwa reminded him gently.

“Did you?” Hongjoong asked, feeling wicked. He leaned forward, his gaze wandering over Seonghwa’s face, pausing on his pouty pink mouth.

Seonghwa squirmed beneath Hongjoong, blushing deeply when Hongjoong dropped the full weight of his hips against him to stop him from pulling free. He really was the most gorgeous creature Hongjoong had ever seen.

San cleared his throat. “I think Master Hongjoong won that round,” he declared. Hongjoong had completely forgotten about San. But maybe he wanted San to see this.

“Guess you’ll have to try again,” Hongjoong murmured, unable to take his eyes off Seonghwa. His husband looked simultaneously captivated by Hongjoong and a bit nervous. Hongjoong couldn’t help but savor that look– he could almost believe that Seonghwa looked like he wanted him.

Their breaths mingled as Hongjoong moved close enough so that if Seonghwa lifted his head slightly, their lips would collide. And Hongjoong thought that maybe he wouldn’t mind that so much.

San cleared his throat again, breaking through Hongjoong’s little delusion. “I think we have time for one more round before I need to go and prepare lunch.”

Hongjoong leaned back and closed his eyes, trying not to let the frustration show on his face.

“Yeah, okay.” Hongjoong forced himself to stand, then he offered Seonghwa a hand up.

Seonghwa ignored it and stood on his own, then tucked his loose hair behind his ears. He grabbed his dagger and assumed a defensive position. “Teach me that move,” he told Hongjoong, gritting his teeth.

“As you wish, Sire,” Hongjoong replied, giving him a mocking little bow. Seonghwa’s lips twitched like he was biting back a sarcastic remark. Hongjoong smirked at him.

He stood behind his husband and carefully adjusted the vampire’s grip and stance where needed. Hongjoong usually didn’t enjoy touching people, but he did enjoy the way Seonghwa’s breath caught whenever Hongjoong’s fingers made contact with his skin. The vampire felt much warmer than Hongjoong expected, whereas he had been quite cold in the past. Did physical exertion really heat Seonghwa’s body this much?

Hongjoong pushed the question from his mind for now and focused on instructing his husband on how to execute the move. Seonghwa got it on the third try. The vampire performed his own variation of the technique, then tackled Hongjoong to the ground and disarmed him.

Hongjoong looked defiantly up at Seonghwa from his position on his back. He had to admit he was impressed by how quickly Seonghwa had caught on. But he didn’t tap out, so Seonghwa pressed the dagger harder against his throat.

“Give up, husband,” he demanded, smiling smugly.

Hongjoong thought about disarming him, distracting him— there were probably a hundred different things he could do to turn the tables. But he got lost in those dark eyes for a moment, and forgot why he even cared about winning.

Hongjoong decided to give him the round. Seonghwa had earned it, after all. He extended his arm slowly and smacked the mat twice, yielding this round to his husband.

“Well done,” he conceded.

Seonghwa smiled triumphantly. He looked incredibly cute when he was proud of himself, like he had when he’d won a game at the arcade. Hongjoong lay sweaty and unmoving beneath him, letting him have his moment.

Seonghwa leaned over Hongjoong, like Hongjoong had done to him earlier, and Hongjoong sensed his own pulse increasing. Seonghwa bit his lower lip, half-suppressing a mischievous smile. Hongjoong found himself wondering if his husband’s lips were as soft as they looked.

“Oh, looks like it’s lunchtime,” San announced loudly, glancing at an invisible watch on his wrist. “I should be going.” He bowed quickly to his Masters and retreated from the room.

Hongjoong waved goodbye, then turned back to Seonghwa, who had returned to sitting upright on him as the familiar made his exit. Perspiration had caused Seonghwa’s white t-shirt to cling to his torso, revealing his surprisingly well-sculpted abdomen. It wasn’t quite as intense as San’s, but it was still impressive. Without really thinking, Hongjoong lifted his hand and began to trace his fingertips across the lines defining the vampire’s muscles.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away from Hongjoong’s touch. “What are you doing?” he asked. His tone was insistent, but his brows knit together in bewilderment.

“I’m admiring you,” Hongjoong murmured. Hongjoong had never really seen Seonghwa physically exert himself outside of today, so he wondered how it was possible for the vampire to maintain a physique such as this. Perhaps all vampires remained in the same state as when they were Made? Or had Seonghwa been working out or doing some kind of physical activity during some of the times he disappeared during the day?

Hongjoong placed his other hand on the small of his husband’s back, reveling in the way Seonghwa’s thighs tensed against him. Hongjoong didn’t know why he enjoyed it so much, the way husband’s body responded to his touch. He just knew that he wanted more of it. More evidence that Seonghwa was just as attracted to Hongjoong as Hongjoong was to him.

He shifted his hands to either side of Seonghwa’s waist. Seonghwa’s breath hitched. His grip on the practice dagger loosened, and it clattered to the floor. Hongjoong was struck by a sense of boldness that only grew as the vampire seemed to lose his nerve. He gathered the fabric of Seonghwa’s t-shirt in his fist and pulled him closer.

Seonghwa braced his hands on the floor on either side of Hongjoong’s head to keep himself from crashing into Hongjoong. They locked eyes, and Seonghwa asked warily, “Are you going to kiss me again, husband?”

Again.

Hongjoong could feel his heart thumping faster. Did Seonghwa want him to? The vampire wasn’t making any effort to escape, and yet… Hongjoong thought of Seonghwa’s swift departure from the music room after Hongjoong had kissed his cheek.

“Did I scare you yesterday?” Hongjoong asked, feeling a bit guilty. He loosened his grip on his husband’s shirt.

“Not at all,” Seonghwa replied, his gaze softening. “It was… nice.”

Hongjoong stared back at him in astonishment. “But… you ran away.”

“I…” Seonghwa faltered. “I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Hongjoong mused. “Well, I felt a bit lonely last night.”

Seonghwa reached up and trailed his fingertips over the smooth, short hair behind Hongjoong’s ear. For someone with such a strong grip, Seonghwa’s fingers could be extraordinarily gentle when he wanted them to be. Hongjoong noticed for the first time that Seonghwa’s hands weren’t smooth and soft like the stereotypical upper class, but instead his hands were rather rough and callused, like he was no stranger to manual labor.

“I was there,” Seonghwa said, his voice nearly a whisper. Hongjoong felt himself gravitating towards his husband’s touch, craving just a bit more, for just a moment, before catching himself. So Seonghwa had slept in their room last night.

“You should wake me next time,” Hongjoong insisted. He grabbed Seonghwa’s wrist for emphasis, halting his husband’s caress. He wanted Seonghwa to know that he had been upset that he’d been left alone, wondering for hours if he had gone too far, or if he’d betrayed Seonghwa’s trust somehow. “You need to talk to me about things, instead of disappearing. I understand if you need a moment, but please just… come back after.”

“I… well, I’m just not used to… anything like that,” Seonghwa admitted, averting his eyes. “I didn’t expect it.”

“I didn’t either,” Hongjoong said, releasing Seonghwa’s wrist. “It just happened.”

Seonghwa nodded. He glanced down at Hongjoong’s other hand, which was still loosely clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. “So, what is it that you want, husband?” he inquired softly. Sweat trickled down the vampire’s brow, and he wiped it with the back of his hand.

What did Hongjoong want? Hongjoong was attracted to Seonghwa. How could he not be? Seonghwa had a captivating smile, and an adorable laugh. He looked like someone right out of one of Hongjoong’s antique fashion magazines. And here he was, sitting on top of Hongjoong, their faces a mere hand’s breadth apart.

Maybe Hongjoong wanted to kiss his husband.

He lifted his hand and swept his thumb tenderly across Seonghwa’s pretty mouth. His lips felt as soft as Hongjoong had expected. Softer even. Seonghwa froze as he did it, seeming flustered, unsure. But he didn’t try to run away.

“Would you like to kiss me, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked, waiting. Hoping.

Seonghwa didn’t answer him, but he looked like he wanted to, as if he were trying to muster up the courage. Hongjoong didn’t know what it was about himself that seemed to make his husband so nervous. If anything, Hongjoong should be nervous about Seonghwa, with his supernatural strength and his sharp fangs. And yet, Seonghwa was the one trembling.

Hongjoong reached up and cradled the back of his husband’s neck, stroking him reassuringly. Seonghwa’s hair was soft as silk and damp with sweat. He gradually relaxed into Hongjoong’s touch, and Hongjoong smiled at him.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong told him, lifting his chin, moving incrementally closer.

“I-I’ve never…” Seonghwa stammered.

Hongjoong hesitated. “What is it?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“Oh...”

How could someone as beautiful as Seonghwa never have been kissed? Not even once?

Seonghwa looked away, seeming embarrassed, like he wanted to bolt out of the room again.

“Do you want to know what it’s like?” Hongjoong asked, gently turning Seonghwa’s face back towards him. The prospect of being his husband’s first real kiss both fascinated and excited him.

Seonghwa blushed. His gaze dropped to Hongjoong’s mouth and his lips parted slightly. The look in his eyes seemed cautious yet hopeful.

They were silent for several heartbeats.

“Show me,” Seonghwa breathed. His eyelids fluttered and closed, and thrill ran through Hongjoong. He tilted his face towards Seonghwa and pulled him closer.

“Is that you in here, Sire?” a voice sounded from the hallway. Seonghwa’s eyes opened immediately, and he scrambled to his feet, leaving Hongjoong splayed out on the mat beneath him.

Hongjoong had to take a moment to collect himself, biting back a frustrated curse. He sighed heavily then sat up to see who had interrupted them.

It was the tall red-haired vampire from the library, Mansik. What was he doing awake during the daytime? Hongjoong thought he should probably return to his and Seonghwa’s quarters as quickly as possible, to ensure that Mansik hadn’t been snooping while they were out.

He glanced at his compact notebook that he had removed from his pocket and set next to one of the practice weapon stands, then stood and retrieved it surreptitiously while Seonghwa went to talk to Mansik.

As Hongjoong approached them, he overheard Seonghwa reassuring Mansik that Yeosang would be back soon, that he had just gone out for a few personal errands. Hongjoong vaguely wondered where Yeosang would shelter from the sun during the day, while he was out. The Coven of course had many places scattered across the City and the surrounding countryside where its members could safely wait out the sunlight, should they be caught out during the daytime. The Hunters even knew the locations of a few of these places. He wondered what these errands of Yeosang’s were, and if Seonghwa would even be willing to give up that information. Perhaps he could ask about it later.

“Thank you for letting me know, Sire,” Mansik replied. Hongjoong stepped up next to his husband and crossed his arms. He didn’t exactly scowl, but he didn’t smile either.

“Good afternoon, Master Hongjoong,” Mansik said with a polite bow. Hongjoong nodded impassively, then dropped his hand and entwined his fingers with Seonghwa’s.

Seonghwa shot Hongjoong a pleasantly surprised look, then quickly schooled his expression. Mansik cleared his throat. “Well then, I have some things to attend to. Have a pleasant day, Sire, Master Hongjoong.” He bowed low and rushed off down the hallway.

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows quizzically at Hongjoong, who gave him an innocent shrug in return. Hongjoong had just wanted Mansik to see that he had his husband’s back. To make the shifty vampire think twice before doing anything that could undermine either of them. Hongjoong wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I also need to attend to some things now, but I’ll be back for dinner,” Seonghwa said, looking apologetic. “I hadn’t intended to spend so much time, uh, sparring.”

Hongjoong tried not to feel too disappointed, but he released Seonghwa’s hand. They had been interrupted, and now the moment had passed. It probably would have been a mistake to kiss Seonghwa, anyway. Hongjoong had simply been swept up by adrenaline in the moment. He hadn’t been thinking clearly.

Seonghwa seemed to be pondering something, then said, “Please join me in the formal dining room tonight.”

Hongjoong tilted his head inquisitively. “Oh really? Do you have something planned?”

Seonghwa nodded, looking Hongjoong up and down with a faintly pleased smile. Hongjoong wondered what possibly could be going through the vampire’s mind. “I’ll see you tonight,” Seonghwa told him. “Wear formal attire. Black, please.”

“Sure,” Hongjoong agreed, his curiosity piqued. “See you later.”

Chapter Text

Hongjoong waited until Seonghwa was out of sight before retreating briskly back in the direction that Mansik had gone. He had some questions for the vampire that needed answering.

After searching a few of the adjacent corridors, he spotted Mansik and his scheming friend from the library in a secluded alcove, chatting quietly. Hongjoong assumed a confident posture and approached them both.

Mansik seemed uneasy as he turned to greet Hongjoong, “Hello again, Master Hongjoong,” he said, bowing.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Donghun, the Ice Prince asked, giving a brief bow, then smiling at Hongjoong with an air of superiority. His long, dark hair was half up in some sort of elaborate style today, and he appeared even paler than Seonghwa in the dim light of the corridor. His clothes were quite antiquated, but in remarkably pristine condition.

“I wanted to ask if you received my letter,” Hongjoong replied, as politely as he could manage. “As you know, I’m investigating the Sire’s assassination, and I have a few questions for both of you.”

“Ah, yes,” Donghun answered, tapping his bloodless lips and giving Hongjoong a patronizing smile. “Ask away.”

“What were you doing the night of the assassination and the following day leading up to the discovery?” Hongjoong inquired, schooling his expression to remain neutral.

“We spent the evening together, reading, chatting, and playing janggi, as is our custom every weekend,” Mansik answered, glancing at Donghun, who glanced back at him impassively. “After that, we retired to our respective chambers at sunrise to sleep for the rest of the day.”

Hongjoong decided not to ask them why they were out and about during the day today and yesterday, to avoid alerting them to his suspicions.

“That’s right,” Donghun said, nodding. “The Sire’s familiar, uh… Nari, found him at sunset the next day when she arrived for his… breakfast. She woke Seonghwa and Master Yeosang first to report the news, then they gathered the rest of us to tell us what they had discovered. From the state of things, it appeared he had been dead for several hours.”

“Were any of the Coven members away from the manor at the time?”

Mansik studied his long, manicured nails with disinterest. “I believe the twins arrived back at the manor from whatever excursion they’d been off to a couple of nights before the discovery. I don’t know if anyone else went out on the actual night of the assassination, as we were preoccupied for most of it. But everyone was there for the um, …the announcement.”

Hongjoong took a moment to jot down everything they had told him into his notebook. The two vampires didn’t seem particularly interested in Hongjoong’s notes, but perhaps they were good actors. Mansik began to shift his weight impatiently back and forth, sighing loudly as Hongjoong wrote. Donghun placed a hand on Mansik’s arm, and the restless vampire stilled.

“Were you together for the entire night until you went to sleep at sunrise?” Hongjoong asked. “And was anyone else there?”

Donghun nodded, an exaggerated smile playing across his lips. “Yes, we were. My familiar, Huicheol, was also there for nearly the entire time, unless we sent him out on a brief errand or to retrieve more blood for us.”

“Please tell Huicheol that I would like to speak with him, as soon as possible,” Hongjoong said, making it sound like a command, not a request. Donghun raised his eyebrows, but hummed his assent.

Hongjoong turned to Mansik and asked, “Do you also have a familiar that I could speak to?”

Mansik pursed his lips in barely veiled annoyance. “I am… between familiars at the moment. At any rate, I didn’t have anyone serve me that night, other than Huicheol when I was in Donghun’s chambers.”

“Did anyone else see either of you that night?”

“I suppose not,” Mansik answered, brushing a tiny piece of lint off his shirt. “Not that I recall.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes like he was getting a headache or becoming bored with the conversation.

Hongjoong took a few more notes, then asked, “Is the Sire’s familiar, Nari, still here? I’d like to speak with her.”

Donghun and Mansik shared a strange look, and Donghun scrunched up his face in distaste. Mansik leaned closer to Hongjoong, which took some effort, as he was incredibly tall. He smelled heavily of mint leaves and roses. The vampire said, in a near whisper, “We heard that she took the, uh… how shall I say this? She took the ‘quick way out’ the next day, due to embarrassment over her failure.” He made a slicing motion across his neck, and Hongjoong grimaced.

“Isn’t that suspicious?” Hongjoong asked. “The Sire was murdered, then the person that found his body just… ends their life? Who found her? Are you sure it was self-inflicted?”

“Oh, it’s incredibly suspicious,” Donghun agreed, grinning ominously. “But you’ll have to ask Master Yeosang about it. He’s the one who found her… like that. That’s all we know about it.”

Mansik tilted his head curiously and asked, “Do you think the Wolves had something to do with the Sire’s death? Or perhaps…” He smiled slyly. “Perhaps you suspect a traitor among us?”

Hongjoong scowled. “That’s not information I’m sharing with anyone at the moment.”

Donghun huffed out a short laugh, his black eyes glimmering with amusement. “Of course, Master Hongjoong,” he said, with what seemed like mock deference. “That’s quite understandable. If there’s anything else we can do, please let us know.”

Hongjoong scribbled a bit more in his notebook, then nodded and closed it.

“That will be all, for now,” Hongjoong told them, bowing politely. “Thank you for answering my questions.”

The two vampires bowed and headed down the corridor together, speaking so softly that Hongjoong couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Hongjoong returned to his and Seonghwa’s quarters, and searched for evidence of tampering with his desk along with their wardrobes and nightstands. Nothing appeared to have been moved, and the little trap he had set on the desk, a single hair that would fall or break if the top was opened, was still present. He considered having a lock installed on it, just as an additional deterrent. Perhaps San could help him locate someone who could do such a thing.

He opened the hinged lid of the desk and sat down to begin adding his interview notes to his current timeline of the events leading up to the Sire’s assassination. He was still suspicious of Donghun and Mansik, but even if they had been lying about everything, he had still managed to glean some important information from them. For the first time since he’d been at the Manor, Hongjoong felt he had made a decent bit of headway in the investigation. He now had a more defined direction for his line of questioning, along with several details to follow up on or confirm with the other Coven members. He just hoped that he would be able to speak with more of them soon.

Hongjoong worked for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, until it was much later than the usual dinnertime. Hongjoong had nearly been ready to give up and eat by himself again when Seonghwa finally returned to their quarters.

“There you are. It’s about time,” Hongjoong sulked, crossing his arms as Seonghwa slipped into his indoor shoes. “I thought you’d forgotten about our dinner date. The one you proposed, by the way.”

Seonghwa grimaced and apologized, saying, “I’m sorry, I lost track of time. But I’d still like to have dinner with you tonight, if you want.”

Hongjoong grunted noncommittally and began gathering the papers he’d spread out on the coffee table and shoving them into the desk. Seonghwa looked at him with a mildly dismayed expression as he did so, and Hongjoong couldn’t tell if it was because of his horrific organization skills or because Seonghwa was still feeling bad about returning so late.

“Formal and all black, right?” Hongjoong asked him, deciding to forgive him. Seonghwa nodded, seeming relieved, and they both retreated to their bedroom together to change their clothes.

As they sifted through their respective wardrobes, Seonghwa suddenly asked, “What were you talking to the Coven members about today?” He pulled a jacket off a hanger and tried it on in front of the mirror.

“You heard about that?” Hongjoong asked, choosing a pair of sleek black tailored trousers and laying them on his side of the bed. “I sent each Coven member a letter, requesting an interview about their whereabouts on the night of the assassination. I figured I’d start right away since Mansik was already awake.”

“Ah,” Seonghwa murmured. “I suspect that most of them won’t be too forthcoming with you, but you do have a unique charm that can get people to open up to you.”

Hongjoong grinned at him, and Seonghwa turned back to his wardrobe, hiding a smile of his own.

There was a question that had been stuck in Hongjoong’s mind since this afternoon– it had quietly taken shape as had been sorting through all of his investigation notes. It felt as if it would burn through him if he didn’t let it out soon. “Seonghwa, do you think that your father could have had anything to do with Yijun’s death?” Hongjoong asked, fiddling nervously with the belt he planned to wear as he waited for an answer.

Seonghwa froze, halfway through returning the jacket back to its hanger. He took a deep breath, then shook his head and said, “He didn’t.”

“How do you know for sure?” Hongjoong pressed him. The evidence from that day had never fully made sense to Hongjoong. The Wolves hadn’t taken credit for it, and neither had the vampires. It was true that Yijun and the other Hunters had been near Wolf territory at the time, but the circumstances had been strange. And it had happened so close to Seonghwa and Yijun’s wedding date. Hongjoong still hadn’t been able to determine exactly who benefitted from Yijun’s death, and why it had happened.

“I know for sure,” Seonghwa insisted, clenching his jaw for a moment. “He wanted the wedding to happen. He wouldn’t have… done anything like that.”

“Hmm, okay,” Hongjoong mused. “What do you know about his–”

“That’s enough about my father,” Seonghwa snapped, not turning around. He yanked another jacket off a hanger with such force that the hanger came free and clattered to the floor. Seonghwa sighed and bent to pick it up. He replaced the jacket without trying it on and went to his dresser and began poring over his jewelry.

Hongjoong spoke his thoughts aloud, half to himself, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you’re hiding something, with the way you always shut down my questions.”

Seonghwa dropped the necklace he had picked up on his dresser with a clatter. He placed his palms on the polished wood and leaned forward, closing his eyes, breathing intentionally like he was trying to calm himself.

“Do you really think,” he said softly, “If I were involved in my own father’s assassination, that I would marry the Hunter who was leading his murder investigation? Do you think I’m a complete fool, husband?”

Hongjoong regretted having voiced his fleeting thoughts. Putting Seonghwa on the defensive again would get them nowhere.

“Of course I don’t think that,” Hongjoong assured him. “But you’re being very closed off, when every detail in this case has the potential to be helpful. I need you to trust me. I’ve been doing this for years, so I know a thing or two. It’s troubling to think that this person or group of people are still out there, possibly wanting to harm you, or both of us. I’d rather not live with the uncertainty any longer than we have to.”

Seonghwa turned to face him, and his dark eyes met Hongjoong’s. “Then stop insulting my intelligence, husband. If I think something is important for you to know, then I’ll tell you.” Some of that icy indignation had started to creep through again, but the vampire’s expression softened a bit as he added, “Please, just let me mourn in my own way, in my own time.”

Hongjoong felt like an asshole, but he approached Seonghwa cautiously and said, “I need to hear it from you, Seonghwa. That you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Instead of becoming angry this time, Seonghwa’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. “I’m not a murderer,” he said dejectedly, hanging his head. “I never wanted to be in charge of anything, much less become the next Sire of this Coven. The role was forced upon me, when he died. I wish none of it had ever happened. But… I’m doing the best I can.”

Hongjoong lifted his husband’s chin, just enough that Seonghwa could look at him. “There,” Hongjoong said softly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” The gaze that Seonghwa leveled at him was filled with misery, and something else that Hongjoong couldn’t quite pinpoint. It made him feel a little bad for pushing Seonghwa so hard, just before they were about to have their dinner date.

Hongjoong had never met his own father– he had only ever known his absence. It had always been his reality that there was an emptiness in his life where someone should have been, that could never be there now. He hadn’t experienced his father’s loss, suddenly and violently, the way Seonghwa had. He knew that he should try to be more patient with Seonghwa, that he should respect his husband’s grieving process, but it was difficult because Hongjoong was trying to help. To keep them safe.

“I really do hope that you can find the answers and understand what happened. It’s just… it’s a lot for me, okay?” Seonghwa replied irritably, averting his eyes. “I… I’ll try my best to meet you in the middle.”

Hongjoong nodded and patted Seonghwa’s cheek. “Thank you,” Hongjoong said sincerely. “It means a lot to me, truly. And I’m sorry if I came across as rude or was too pushy with you.”

Seonghwa frowned and said, “You really should be taught some manners.” Hongjoong probably would have been annoyed at Seonghwa for saying something similar in the past, but now he just found it cute when his husband got pouty like this.

“How am I supposed to get answers if I have to politely investigate a murder without pissing anyone off?” Hongjoong asked, laughing. “I’d never get anywhere like that.” He smiled smugly at his husband. “I’ll just use that charm of mine that you mentioned, instead.”

“I may have been mistaken about that charm,” Seonghwa said, rolling his eyes. “Overestimated it, for sure.”

“We’ll see,” Hongjoong said with a wink. “I’ve been pretty successful today, at least.” He released his husband’s chin, and Seonghwa returned to his wardrobe, shaking his head in exasperation.

Hongjoong picked out the remainder of his outfit, then tried it on. He faced his floor length mirror, checking the fit of the tailored suit coat that he had embellished with patterns of crushed velvet for his 18th birthday party. As he knotted the cinch he had added to it last year, he caught Seonghwa’s gaze on him, watching him curiously from the matching mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Hongjoong kept his smile to himself, and finished fastening a set of white gold cufflinks onto the textured, sparkly black shirt he wore underneath. He had chosen a formal all-black just as Seonghwa had requested, augmented to suit his own taste.

Seonghwa approached him from behind, and wordlessly draped around Hongjoong’s neck a delicate white gold chain that clung close to his throat, along with a longer matching pendant necklace inset with a small crimson jewel.

“Do you like these?” Seonghwa asked, his voice low and sultry in Hongjoong’s ear. Hongjoong could smell the cologne his husband had chosen to wear this evening. It was simultaneously floral and fruity with a hint of a warm, sensual earthiness. Hongjoong turned his head slightly towards Seonghwa, just so he could get another whiff of the tantalizing fragrance. It made Hongjoong’s head swim, and he had to consciously remind himself to breathe.

“You can borrow them if you want,” Seonghwa told him, leaning incrementally closer as he adjusted how the chains lay against Hongjoong’s throat. Hongjoong was nearly convinced that his husband was trying to be seductive on purpose.

Hongjoong studied the pieces in the mirror, trying to focus on them instead of his husband. “Yes,” he agreed, “I’d like to borrow them.” As Seonghwa fastened them, Hongjoong tried to pretend that Seonghwa’s fingers brushing against his skin and the feel of his breath tickling the back of his neck meant nothing to him. But he felt his pulse spiking. Seonghwa’s eyes met his own in the mirror with a knowing glance, and Hongjoong excused himself to the bathing chamber, mumbling something about finding some eyeshadow.

When he returned, he found Seonghwa also dressed in all black, having selected tailored slacks with a slight flair along with a dramatically plunging silk v-neck shirt that revealed a slice of skin reaching halfway down his chest. He wore several tiered layers of delicate white gold chains and a cropped suit jacket embellished with actual tiny diamonds. The suit jacket was composed of alternating patches of crushed velvet and cashmere, and Seonghwa had tied a black-and-white patterned silk scarf around his waist as an accent. Somehow it worked perfectly to compliment what Hongjoong had chosen.

“You look… stunning,” Hongjoong told him. His husband was an absolute vision. His beauty was so unreal, so ethereal, that it almost hurt to look at him. Hongjoong dropped his gaze, pretending to adjust his watch. He prayed his heartbeat wouldn’t give him away as Seonghwa approached him.

“As do you, husband,” Seonghwa said, straightening the crimson pendant he had fastened on Hongjoong, letting his fingers linger just a bit too long at the base of Hongjoong’s throat.

Hongjoong reached up and brushed a stray hair out of Seonghwa’s eyes, then gently pinched his husband’s cheek. Seonghwa blushed and looked away. Hongjoong smiled. Two could play at this game.

Hongjoong took Seonghwa’s arm, saying, “Lead the way to the dining room, please.” Seonghwa’s eyes widened at the brazen physical contact, but he returned Hongjoong’s smile and led them out the door.

When they arrived at the formal dining room, San and two other familiars greeted them and seated them at either end of the long table. Hongjoong frowned, because Seonghwa was much too far away for them to have a proper conversation, so he suggested they move to the middle together so that no one was sitting at the head of the table.

This flustered the two additional familiars, and they rushed to reset the place settings. San, who was used to things like this by now, took it in stride by helping move their wine glasses and silverware to the appropriate spots.

The familiars set several covered dishes on the table in front of Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Seonghwa, solemn-faced, lifted a pair of chopsticks and clicked them at Hongjoong. “Are you ready for my Saturday night tradition?”

Hongjoong gaped at him, confused, and Seonghwa stifled a giggle with his free hand. Were they going to eat actual food together?

The familiars began to remove the lids from the dishes, revealing all manner of cuisine. Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong and handed him another set of chopsticks.

“Don’t be shy,” he urged, “Please dig in, or I’ll eat it all myself.”

Hongjoong accepted the utensils, but continued to stare at Seonghwa in fascination. “You… eat normal food?”

Seonghwa was already busy filling his bowl with a hefty sampling from every dish. “Yes, it’s my Saturday night tradition, like I said.”

His dark eyes focused intently on the food before him. When he finished filling his bowl, he immediately dug into the food, consuming it like it would disappear if he took his eyes off it for a second.

Hongjoong gawked open-mouthed as his husband began making happy little noises indicating that he was enjoying the food.

“Wait, so you can taste it normally and everything?” Hongjoong asked. San appeared behind them and poured wine for Hongjoong, blood for Seonghwa.

“Of course I can,” Seonghwa said, barely intelligible with his mouth stuffed full of noodles.

“But it won’t satiate you like blood does, right? So why bother?” Hongjoong asked, confused. His husband was proving to be quite the interesting creature.

Seonghwa swallowed and turned to face Hongjoong, his expression fully serious. “Because it’s delicious, don’t be stupid. Allow me this one vice, husband.” He shook his head in frustration and began placing more things into his dish. “Please eat something before I take it all and feel bad about it. The noodles are incredible. So is the chicken.”

Hongjoong shook his head, grinning, and picked up his bowl. He reached for the same thing as Seonghwa and smacked his husband’s chopsticks away playfully, saying, “Leave some for me, remember?”

Seonghwa looked affronted and complained, “But the noodles are my favorite.”

“I’ll leave some for you, don’t worry,” Hongjoong promised. Seonghwa side-eyed him suspiciously. He waited for Hongjoong to be done transferring a portion to his bowl, then hastily took the rest.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but be amused watching the vampire eat so voraciously. “You eat like it’s your last meal on earth,” he observed.

“Well, you never know,” Seonghwa replied between mouthfuls.

He started making appreciative little hums again as he cleaned out his bowl, and Hongjoong couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “You are truly the strangest vampire I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa replied, and went back for thirds.

As they prepared for bed back in their quarters later, Seonghwa talked incessantly about the noodles. He listed every ingredient, commenting on what special flair it brought to the dish, and said that he was going to give the chef the best birthday gift ever this year.

Hongjoong was dumbstruck by the vampire’s behavior, but he felt as if he was finally getting another peek at the real Seonghwa. And Seonghwa was… fun. He was cute. He was silly. He was so… normal.

Hongjoong was feeling a little uneasy because he didn’t know how to act now. This behavior was making him more anxious than when Seonghwa had acted bratty and aloof. At least when Seonghwa had been acting that way, he knew that the vampire would eventually storm off at some point, and Hongjoong wouldn’t have to keep up the conversation.

With the way Seonghwa kept raving about the food tonight, he probably could have given Wooyoung a run for his money for title of yapper-in-chief. Not that Hongjoong minded that much. It was a pleasant change, to have a nice evening with Seonghwa again. It was probably their first since they’d gone to the arcade.

When Hongjoong settled into bed, freshly washed and changed into his pajamas, Seonghwa faced him and removed the divider pillow separating their faces again. He hugged the pillow to his chest and smiled at Hongjoong.

“Did you enjoy the dinner tonight?” he asked, sinking his head onto his pillow.

“I did,” Hongjoong answered, grinning. “It was delicious.”

“What was your favorite dish?”

Hongjoong thought about it for a few seconds, then said, “I think you’re right about the noodles.”

“Yes!” Seonghwa exclaimed. “I knew it. I’ll make sure there’s more for you next time.”

Hongjoong pulled the blanket up to his chest and tucked it under his arm as he turned to face Seonghwa, who began assigning ratings to the other dishes based on how much he liked them. Hongjoong was so drowsy and full from eating more than usual, that he could barely keep his eyes open, but he tried to pay attention to what Seonghwa was saying. Instead, he found himself thinking about how cute Seonghwa was, and how strange his habits were compared with that of a stereotypical vampire. Maybe Hongjoong needed to set aside some of his preconceived notions of what kinds of behaviors he expected from Seonghwa.

Seonghwa paused his monologue suddenly and asked, “Is everything alright?” His eyebrows knit together with worry.

Hongjoong blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up. “Yeah,” he tried to reassure Seonghwa. “I was just thinking about a place in the City that I might like to take you sometime. They specialize in noodles like we had tonight, but I don’t know if they’re still open. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa said, smiling shyly. “That sounds nice. I think… I’d like to try it.”

Hongjoong nodded, still feeling a little overwhelmed by Seonghwa’s sudden chattiness. “Where do you get all the ingredients for meals like that, anyway?” he asked.

Seonghwa smiled mysteriously. “I’ll show you sometime.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa covered a yawn with his hand and blinked drowsily. “I hope you’ll join me for Saturday night dinners in the future,” he said, nestling even deeper into his pillow and tugging the covers up to his ears. “They’re so much better when shared with someone else.”

“I will,” Hongjoong assured him. “It was fun. You make it kind of exciting to try different foods.”

Seonghwa’s eyes sparkled with delight. “I’m happy,” he said. “Thank you for indulging me tonight.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Seonghwa.”

“Goodnight, husband.”

Seonghwa was asleep before Hongjoong could turn off his lamp, but Hongjoong lay awake, thinking about the kiss that had almost happened between them in the sparring room that morning. The image of Seonghwa’s trembling lips appeared in his mind unbidden. Had he mistaken fear for eagerness?

He wondered if the urge he’d had to kiss his husband, to kiss a vampire, had been a moment of temporary insanity. Maybe Hongjoong was just lonely and touch-starved from being cooped up in the manor for so long.

It probably could have been anyone else and he would have done the same thing, just to feel something. But if that were the case, why hadn’t it happened with San during one of the many times he had pinned the familiar to the mat? San was hot, in a completely different way than Seonghwa, to be sure, but no one could deny that the man was attractive. It could have happened with San. But it hadn’t.

So why Seonghwa? Seonghwa was beautiful, but Hongjoong had known that since the day he had first met the vampire. For some reason, Hongjoong found that he liked doing things that would bring a blush or a smile to the vampire’s typically solemn face.

He didn’t know why it should matter to him if Seonghwa was smiling or not, or why he seemed to enjoy the feeling of their bodies pressed up against each other. Or why he liked hearing Seonghwa make those happy little noises at dinner tonight, wondering if he could elicit the same reactions from his husband in other ways. It shouldn’t matter to him at all.

Hongjoong thought about it some more, and concluded that being cooped up in the manor was making him lose his mind, and that he needed to try to get at least an hour of fresh air each day. Fresh air and exercise would do it. He just needed to keep a clear head, and not get distracted by stupid things like wondering what Seonghwa’s lips would feel like pressed against his own. Wondering what he would taste like. Wondering if his cute little pink tongue—

He turned his back to Seonghwa, feeling embarrassed that his thoughts kept returning to this. He squirmed uncomfortably and took several deep breaths, willing the growing bulge in his pajama pants to just go away. These kinds of thoughts shouldn’t happen. Couldn’t happen. They were distracting him from the investigation he was supposed to be conducting. He was spending too much time with Seonghwa and not enough time working.

He had acted like a fool today by ignoring his training, becoming reckless and letting his bodily instincts take over like a horny teenager. He had been acting as bad as Wooyoung had after his little brother had hit puberty. Wooyoung had been insufferably stubborn, often sneaking out at night to go to bars and dance clubs where he could hang out with other equally incorrigible boys. He had constantly gotten into trouble for trying to sneak his little flings back into his room late at night. Hongjoong was glad those days were over now. Well, mostly.

Hongjoong had not been on many dates in his life, much less allowed himself to get into a truly serious relationship with anyone. There had only been one exception, but that was something he didn’t want to think about right now. He had buried those feelings deep down, long ago, after Yijun had been killed and Hongjoong had been promised to Seonghwa, sealing his fate. He still couldn’t bring himself to face it, even now. But none of that mattered anymore. It couldn’t.

Hongjoong knew the reasons why he hadn’t been in any kind of serious relationship since then. There were two. One, was because he had always been busy working. He had never prioritized dating or trying to find a partner because it just seemed like a waste of time in comparison with the importance of his work. Which led to the second reason. Ever since the engagement contract had been announced shortly after he turned nineteen, nobody had really wanted anything to do with him. And he couldn’t even blame them. Who would want to date the vampire heir’s fiancé? The things he’d overheard people saying about him sprang to mind:

He’s very cute, but he’s engaged to a vampire. What a waste.

If his fiancé finds out, he’ll hunt you down and tear out your throat.

He’ll be a vampire himself in a few years, so why bother?

After the betrothal, Hongjoong had resigned himself to the fact that he was never again going to find someone willing to go out with him, much less someone he could allow himself to fall in love with. So he had given up trying. He had only hoped that he and his betrothed could avoid killing each other, and he would consider the marriage a success.

He had never expected… this. He had never expected that his vampire husband would be capable of getting along with him. Of having fun with him. Of being emotionally vulnerable with him. It was all too much. It had been so much easier when they hated each other. When they had known next to nothing about each other.

Seonghwa was much too distracting. Hongjoong bit his lip, thinking about the little gasp Seonghwa had made when they had been about to kiss… and it went straight to his dick. Hongjoong suppressed a frustrated groan. He was losing it. He was truly losing his mind, going insane for the vampire in his bed, sleeping right next to him.

He debated taking a cold shower, but he didn’t want to wake Seonghwa and risk alerting him to his condition. He finally tried breathing as slowly as possible while doing math in his head to divert his thoughts. He hated every second of it, but eventually, sleep overtook him.

Hongjoong woke up with a start in the middle of the night. He listened carefully, and thought he heard something shuffling around in the sitting room. He sat up, opened his nightstand drawer, and grabbed his silver Hunter’s knife. He glanced back at Seonghwa, who lay sound asleep beside him. In the dim light of the fireplace, Hongjoong could see his husband breathing softly and steadily, looking perfect as a portrait with his hands folded beneath his cheek.

Hongjoong tiptoed to the bedroom door, and slowly turned the knob, opening it just enough to peek inside. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so he opened it a bit further. When he still didn’t see anything unusual, he stepped in quickly and whirled around to check the corners. Nothing. The flames in the enormous fireplace flickered, creating dancing shadows on the sitting room wall.

Hongjoong switched on the desk lamp, and checked that none of his things were missing. His notebook was still in the drawer where he had left it. He let out a sigh of relief and lowered the knife. He checked that the entrance to their quarters was still locked, then did a sweep of the room and found that nothing appeared to have been disturbed.

Maybe he had just been imagining things. He had been a little jumpy since he had last been in the library, and encountering Mansik and Donghun during the daytime today hadn’t helped ease his suspicions.

Now he was wide awake thanks to the adrenaline, so he decided to work a little bit on the case. He had been on to something yesterday, when he had started searching through scouting reports and intelligence from some of the Hunters’ informants about some recent happenings in Sector 1.

He suspected a rogue faction of Wolves was operating outside the statutes of the Treaties there. But most concerning of all was the rumor that either a vampire or a vampire’s familiar had visited the Wolves’ territory in Sector 1 recently. Shortly before the vampire Sire’s assassination.

Due to his newly developing suspicions, this information seemed less likely to be a rumor that could be easily discarded. If there was a traitor in the Coven, someone who was working with rogue Wolves, the situation was even worse than he had previously thought.

Hongjoong needed to inform the Commander and his brothers of his findings. But he would need to deliver the details in person or leave a coded message at one of their drop points again, since someone had likely been sabotaging his own incoming and outgoing messages here in the manor.

He considered the fact that he had been leaving his messages with San, who had always promised to send them. He didn’t like that he needed to be distrustful of the familiar. San had always been kind and friendly, but maybe that was all an act, a front for something more sinister. The man had demonstrated some incredible fighting skills today. Perhaps there were other things he was hiding. Hongjoong decided that he needed to have a personal chat with San soon, to see if anything the man said would reveal anything further about his character.

He added another log to the fire, then continued to work long into the night.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Yeosang thought that he could be in hell, undergoing some kind of trial or punishment for something terrible he’d done in a past life. He didn’t really believe in that shit, but did wonder occasionally.

His brain was permanently stuck in the year 2027. He had been 28 years old when he had been Made into a vampire. So now he was mentally and physically stuck at that age. Forever. He was probably the only person left in the entire world that had been alive this long. And it was bullshit.

Yunho didn’t even come in a close second at around 200 years old, but at least he had known what it was like before the world had ended. At least he was someone Yeosang could talk to about those things. Like being able to have fried chicken whenever he wanted it, and actually feeling satiated by it. Remembering when there used to be new anime and concerts and junk food. And his gym. His beautiful gym. He missed that most of all. He’d been able to replace the equipment, mostly, over the years, but it still wasn’t the same.

He had enjoyed spending his evenings practicing his choreo for upcoming performances, or doing livestreams for his fans, or relaxing and watching anime. He had loved going to the beach and doing photoshoots with his friends in the golden hour just before sunset. All Yeosang had wanted was to sing and dance and entertain people, to bring a smile to people’s faces. But no, he had to be kidnapped by some crazy DNA experimenting underground group that had turned him into a goddamn vampire.

Back then, most people had still believed that the so-called undead were not real, that they were just some fantasy that nearly every culture had some version of. Yeosang had learned very quickly how real vampires were.

It had ruined his music career. Yeosang had lost his ability to go outside in the daylight, which of course severely limited his ability to work. Not to mention the whole ‘needing to drink blood to stay alive’ thing. And the ‘never growing old’ thing. Which people get super sus about after like fifty years, apparently. It had been a bad first few years for him until he had figured out how to deal with all of the side effects.

No one would ever understand him, and he had come to terms with that a long time ago. Still, it was insanely frustrating to not always be able to explain himself. Or to try to speak with the gravitas that supposedly came along with 400 years of experience, so that people would respect him or something. There was no instruction manual for this shit.

He was so fucking old. The one thing he had going for him was that he was still sexy as hell. Life as a living corpse wasn’t glamorous, but he could pretend it wasn’t that bad as long as he was still hot. His 28-year-old vanity was still going strong. He knew that he was beautiful and could seduce pretty much anyone that he wanted. Not that he did it often. But it was something. For now.

There was a point in his earlier years where he probably would have just paid or goaded some Hunter into dousing him in holy water and staking him through the heart. Then a simple beheading would finally end his suffering. He couldn’t do it himself. He also couldn’t make himself deliberately walk out into the sun so he could turn into ash and be carried away by the wind. Maybe it was something in vampire DNA, or just a byproduct from how brains were rewired after their Making, but vampires couldn’t purposely kill themselves. If they could have, probably half of the Covens wouldn’t be around anymore. Many of them were tired of their mundane existence, and sought eternal rest. But there was something that spurred Yeosang into action, something that still gave him a reason to keep going.

He was going to end this fucking curse, once and for all. Even if it took one thousand years.

He had been working on ways to try to mitigate his affliction for ages. Only recently had he discovered anything that had been at all promising, but of course it was the most delicate, complicated shit ever. And it wasn’t like he had a science degree or anything.

Everything he knew today, he had gleaned from salvaged books and media. And trial-and-error. So, so much error. The results had been his turning into a person who knew a little bit about everything, but was not really an expert in much.

Until he had found the bunker. The idiot billionaires who had hid themselves in it over 200 years ago had somehow managed to die in there anyway, but they had left a wealth of well-preserved information behind. Yeosang had been sifting through it for years. Decades. Over a century now.

Yeosang’s un-life goal was to be able to walk in the daylight again. He would spend the rest of it trying to solve this problem, even if it killed him. Because why did anything matter anymore if he had to hide away for half of his days? He had found it difficult to have any kind of meaningful relationship with anyone, and he sure as hell wasn’t hooking up with any of the other vampires in the Covens anymore. He had tried that a few decades ago and it had… ended badly. He was so tired of all of them and their petty dramas. The only two he could stand being around anymore were Yunho and Seonghwa. Those two were good kids. They were built different.

Since finding the bunker, Yeosang had spent nearly every spare minute studying and experimenting and trying to find something, anything, to help. Even if it was just a little. He had made a few minor breakthroughs over the years, finding small ways to make this un-life just a bit more bearable. All he needed now was more time to work, and more time to study.

That being said, Yeosang had precious little time to waste on idiots. Unfortunately, the idiots were in trouble, and the Coven had an alliance with them that needed to be kept.

He finished concealing a couple more shuriken up his sleeves and pulled on his heavy overcoat and winter hat, followed by his daypack. It was off to the City for him once more, this time on Seonghwa’s orders.

Yeosang and the new Sire had discussed the letters San had brought them. They had contained pleas for assistance from the new junior Captain Jongho— one had been addressed to Hongjoong, and another had been addressed to the Coven’s Sire. Seonghwa had expressed concern about keeping the letters along with the sneaky brat Hunter’s visits from Hongjoong, but Yeosang had advised him that it was for the best. If Seonghwa’s new Hunter husband was informed of the current state of things, he would likely run off to try to help with matters that were no longer his responsibility, probably getting himself killed or deciding to never come back. Either of those outcomes would put the fragile alliance between the Hunters and the Coven in jeopardy once more, and that absolutely could not happen right now. The situation called for well-planned strategic movements, and these things took time.

Hunters weren’t exactly known for their patience. The silly humans were more shoot first, ask questions later, at least in Yeosang’s experience with them. He supposed that they had to be a little bit more rushed with everything, considering the shorter time spans of their lives. But it was still annoying. So Yeosang preferred to keep them out of the way. And Seonghwa had agreed, albeit reluctantly. The young vampire was still contending with his newly acquired status as the Coven’s Sire, and was learning that making hard decisions wasn’t as simple as choosing right from wrong, or black from white. But Seonghwa had done his best to protect the Coven. He was doing well.

The message from Jongho had stated that the Hunter’s Commander for this region, who was also Hongjoong and Jongho’s mother, had not contacted the junior Hunters since shortly after the wedding. If the Commander wasn’t even reporting back to her junior Hunters or giving them orders, something must have gone wrong when she and the seniors went after the lead they had gotten on the wedding night. The fact that she hadn’t even left any of the senior Hunters behind was gravely concerning. It was Yeosang’s job to find out what had happened, then do something about it.

He suspected a rogue splinter group of Wolves that the Commander had been tracking could have laid some sort of trap. This shadow faction, which Yeosang was already familiar with, was incredibly dangerous and effective at covering their tracks. The Wolves’ Den Mother in the City, basically the equivalent to a Coven Sire, had not proven to be very cooperative with helping the Coven or the Hunters track the rogues. Though she remained an ally, she seemed willing to only offer the bare minimum of assistance required by the Treaties.

The shadow faction had been elusive, moving their base of operations every few weeks so that they were difficult to track and infiltrate. Yunho had managed it though. Somehow. But Yeosang hadn’t heard from him in over a week. Something important must have drawn his attention.

Yeosang was off to the City today to rendezvous with the new Captain of the junior Hunters and offer his assistance in tracking down the Commander. Yeosang needed to speak with her anyway, to find out what she had learned on the wedding night, since Yunho’s spy network hadn’t been able to get a response from her in the usual timeframe.

As he traveled down the hillside to the City, riding his motorbike in the evening twilight, he found himself wishing that hooded capes were still in fashion. The drama and mystery they implied would have been perfect for this mission. Maybe he could work on bringing them back after he solved everything else. Seonghwa would probably love it.

“You must be the maknae,” Yeosang told the baby boy they had left in charge of the junior Hunters. The new Captain, Jongho, had just arrived at their rendezvous point, which was a small cafe in Center City. He was dressed in leathers and armed to the teeth, like he was out on a hunt or something.

“Only my brothers can call me that,” the boy said, scowling. “You absolutely may not.”

Despite the authority in the young man’s bearing, the new little Captain looked incredibly young. He was barely out of his teens— age 21, according to Yeosang’s reports. His cheeks still carried the plumpness of youth, and his dark, coppery brown hair was just a shade lighter than his russet brown eyes. He wore the standard Hunter gear, all dark leathers with guns and silver blades and such.

Yeosang was supposed to work with this adorable disgruntled teddy bear full of knives. Just when Yeosang had thought life couldn’t get any more boring, something insane like this got thrown his way. He projected his thanks to the universe, for the entertainment, at the very least.

“I was the maknae, once,” Yeosang said, sighing wistfully, tucking a strand of his deep crimson hair behind his ear. He liked keeping it red for now, until he got bored again. It wasn’t the best for stealthy activities, though.

The boy scowled even more intensely. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “You’re like the oldest person alive.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes and said, “Never mind.”

The baby Hunter finally took a seat in the chair across from Yeosang. “You may call me Captain,” he said, propping his elbow on the back of the chair and leaning back to inspect Yeosang brazenly.

“Isn’t your name Jongho? I’m Yeosang.” Yeosang had to try not to laugh at the kid’s effortless machismo. It was fascinating, endearing even.

“It’s Captain, to you,” Jongho reiterated. His stare was icy.

“Trust me, kid,” Yeosang told him, “I’m not happy about needing to work together either. But we’ve got jobs to do, so let’s dispense with the formalities.”

The boy’s stare could’ve frozen an entire lake. “No.”

The young Captain had balls, that was for sure. Yeosang was beginning to understand how this kid had been next in line for the position.

“Okay, bet,” Yeosang said, gesturing flippantly. They needed to get down to business.

“What?” Johgho looked confused by Yeosang’s 400-year-old slang. “What are we betting on?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yeosang said, sighing and taking a sip of his coffee. “Are you getting anything?”

“No.”

“Well in that case, let’s discuss your missing persons.”

“Not here,” Jongho said. He stood abruptly. “Too many ears. Follow me.”

Yeosang sighed, then took a thermos out of his pack and dumped his steaming coffee into it. “Can’t relax for two seconds with these Hunters,” he muttered, then followed the boy outside.

Jongho led him down a side street to a nondescript building, then up several flights of stairs to an apartment that took up the entire top floor. Yeosang had known that one of the Hunter safehouses was on this block somewhere, but not exactly where. The Hunters were very good at evading prying eyes.

“Normally, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near this place,” Jongho explained as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, “But this is an exception. We are operating under emergency conditions.”

“Whatever you say,” Yeosang replied, letting out an impressed whistle as he walked in and viewed the apartment. It was a lot nicer on the inside than this building appeared on the exterior.

Jongho scowled at him again. “What are you doing?”

“What, I can’t whistle in appreciation of something nice?” Yeosang asked, smiling. He decided to put the baby bear off-kilter a bit by glimpsing him head to toe and whistling again.

The little Captain blushed and walked away. Score 1 for Yeosang.

The kid sat down at a dining table and motioned for Yeosang to sit. He did not look pleased.

Yeosang smiled and took his time walking to the table, marking the layout of the apartment as he did. It consisted of a large open floorplan with a kitchen, dining area, and a living area furnished with two sofas and two desks. Four total bedrooms, split into two and two with what appeared to be a shared bathroom each, connected to either side of the living area.

“Now, tell me why didn’t you bring Hongjoong with you?” Jongho demanded, drawing Yeosang’s attention back to him.

“Hongjoong?” Yeosang said coyly, leaning on the back of the dining chair. “He’s busy with his little murder investigation. He’s also been upholding his new duty of staying the fuck home and behaving himself like a good boy. For the most part. And that’s in spite of you sending your little thief to upend things.”

Jongho rolled his eyes. “I know you’ve been intercepting our messages, which is why I sent Wooyoung with the one for your Sire. Don’t even think about showing your face here without Hongjoong next time.”

“Get your brat under control, and I’ll think about it,” Yeosang countered.

“If you make sure our messages aren’t intercepted, then you won’t have to worry about that,” Jongho told him. “Until then, Wooyoung will continue to be relentless. And I won’t order him to stop.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Just sit down and let’s discuss this already,” Jongho said, scowling.

“You’re a bossy little thing,” Yeosang replied, smiling in what he hoped was an infuriating way. The young Captain gave him the strangest look, something that Yeosang couldn’t interpret. Yeosang sighed, deciding to get down to business. He seated himself across from Jongho, and the Captain opened a folder from a stack of files, revealing a spread of surveillance photos that had been taken by Hunter informants in the City over a week ago.

“These were the last known sightings of the Commander or any of our senior Hunters,” he explained, frowning intensely.

“How many seniors do you have stationed here in the southern division?” Yeosang asked, shuffling through the pictures.

“Nine, including the Commander,” Jongho answered. “We are supposed to get another in a few months to replace… Hongjoong.”

His voice faltered, but only for a second. He must miss his brother. Yeosang couldn’t even begin to comprehend how he felt about the whole situation. The Treaties were… imperfect in many ways. But they had held everything together for a couple of centuries, so they certainly had some merit.

“So this right here is the last known whereabouts of the Commander and the seniors,” Yeosang mused, tapping one of the grainy photos. It wasn’t much to go on, but there was enough in the background for him to guess where it had been taken. He still remembered when video surveillance had been prevalent in the City, back before the world had ended. It had been both a blessing and a curse. “Looks like north of the City,” he surmised.

“That’s right,” Jongho confirmed. “They were last seen just outside Sector 1.”

Yeosang nodded. As suspected, the shadow faction of Wolves was probably responsible. That Sector had been their latest location, according to Yunho’s most recent correspondence.

“There’s even more bad news than that, actually,” said a new, brighter voice as someone emerged from one of the bedrooms.

Wooyoung, the persistent little psychopath Hunter with more than the usual penchant for knives, approached the table. He was shirtless and wore a pair of black cargo pants with far too many pockets. A towel was draped around his neck, and he used it to scrub at his damp black hair, looking as if he had just stepped out of the shower.

“Hello, again,” Wooyoung said with a mocking bow, “Master Yeosang, was it?”

“Ah, yes, the stray cat,” Yeosang commented, remaining aloof. He shifted his daypack surreptitiously behind his leg and away from the little thief, and slid his hands into his coat pockets.

Wooyoung noticed. “Your shit is safe from me today,” the wily little Hunter said with a grin. “You’re on my turf now.”

“You should learn from me, and only show up when invited,” Yeosang replied, smiling mildly.

“Oh, sorry. I grew up an orphan in a back alley, so my mother never taught me manners,” Wooyoung said, fluttering his lashes, somehow imbuing the action with sarcasm. He went to pull out the chair next to Yeosang so he could sit, but Yeosang stopped him, yanking the chair out of his grasp.

“Nuh uh,” he told the brat, “Over there.” He motioned to the chair farthest from his own, at the other end of the table.

Wooyoung smirked and turned to Jongho. “Could I speak with you for a minute?” He eyed Yeosang suspiciously and added, “Not in front of Red.” Yeosang scowled, and Wooyoung winked at him. How infuriating.

While Jongho and Wooyoung spoke quietly in one of the bedrooms, Yeosang didn’t move, but he stopped breathing so he could have a better chance of making out what they were saying. He missed most of it, but he caught that Wooyoung was headed back to the manor to attempt to make contact with Hongjoong again.

Yeosang was fairly sure that San could handle the sneaky bastard again, as he had already several times over the past couple of weeks. There was nothing Yeosang could really do to stop Wooyoung from trying again at this point, unless he were to hobble him by taking out an ankle or two, which was tempting. But it would be too messy, and Yeosang was sure neither the former nor the current Hunter Captain wouldn’t take kindly to that.

Jongho eventually emerged from the bedroom, followed shortly after by Wooyoung, who was now fully dressed with the addition of a black v-neck t-shirt, a stylish black leather jacket, and matching boots. He flicked a butterfly knife open and shut as he walked to the door, then blew Yeosang a kiss and was gone. Yeosang blinked in astonishment, then slowly turned back to face the Captain.

Jongho looked like he was barely containing an eyeroll, and returned to the table.

“Where’s the other one?” Yeosang asked, glancing around. “The big one.” Yeosang knew the Hunter’s name, he just felt like being an ass about it. Pretending to know less than he did.

The muscles in Jongho’s jaw and neck tightened momentarily, and he answered, “That’s the other bad news that Wooyoung was talking about. Mingi went missing a few days ago. He was last spotted near Sector 1.”

Chapter Text

Mingi braced himself against the corner of the tiled washroom wall, attempting to shield himself with his arms as another barrage of cold water hit the back of his head.

Be patient. Focus. Wait for an opening.

“Gotta clean your filthy Omega ass up for tonight’s showing,” one of the masked Wolves, a Beta, taunted him, laughing.

The jet of water from the hose finally relented, and one of the others, a large female Alpha, jeered, “He’s pathetic, once you take his weapons away and rough him up a bit. All that muscle and for what?”

“Don’t antagonize him,” another Beta warned. “You saw what he did to the others.”

The Alpha scoffed, “I’d like to see him try that shit with me.”

Mingi lowered his arms, but his head was spinning. His body felt like one giant wound. The bruises he had received on the day of his capture were half-healed, but they had been layered with even more over the past few days. He tried to move his legs to stand, but they stiffened and cramped. He gritted his teeth. He was ready to make a move, if only his useless body would fucking work correctly.

“My brother says the only thing he’s good for is making super Alphas,” the first Beta said. “He’s going to be bidding tonight for at least one breeding season with him.”

“There’s no way your broke-ass brother is going to win the auction,” the Alpha insisted. “There’s so many bidders interested, including some pretty high profile Alphas. I got a glimpse of the invite list and…” The Alpha let out a low whistle. “It’s going to be impossible for him, I’m afraid.”

“What the fuck is a super Alpha, anyway?” the second Beta asked. “Seems a bit delusional to me. This Omega is probably just a genetic accident. Who knows if he’s actually capable of passing the genetics on to make something like that.”

“Many are willing to risk it,” the first Beta answered. “Talk to me again when I’ve got super Alpha nieces and nephews.”

The Wolves laughed, and Mingi felt like he was going to vomit. He could still feel the effects of the daily dose of sedatives in his system, but the drugs were wearing off more quickly than his tormentors seemed to realize.

Another blast of cold water hit him, this time concentrated on his back. He hugged his legs tightly to his chest, gasping from the shock of the icy water against his bare skin.

As soon as the water stopped this time, Mingi jumped to his feet and lunged. He managed to tackle one of the Betas to the ground and began pounding his face in without hesitation. The other two shouted in alarm, and the other Beta, who might have actually pissed himself, dropped his cattle prod and bolted for the door. Mingi immediately dove for the weapon. Just as Mingi’s hands clamped around the abandoned weapon, the Alpha slammed her prod into his back and activated it.

He clenched his teeth as every nerve in his body lit up with pain, every muscle contracted, waiting for the charge to run out. As soon as the Alpha seemed to think Mingi was incapacitated and pulled her own prod away, Mingi whirled around and jabbed her, triggering the debilitating electric shock.

The Wolf who had dashed out of the room returned with several more guards, three of which aimed tranquilizer guns at Mingi’s bare chest. The Alpha that Mingi had electrocuted dropped to the ground unconscious as the guards with the guns closed in.

Mingi backed into the corner of the shower, brandishing the prod defensively and glowering at the guards. Rivulets of water coursed down his face from his wet hair, and he shook his head to shift the hair out of his eyes. There were too many of them for him to fight off in his weakened state, but he didn’t want to surrender. He couldn’t. He had to get out of this place.

“That is quite enough,” Jeong’s voice sounded sternly from the doorway. He walked up to the guards with the tranquilizer guns, holding his hand up authoritatively. “Stand down, idiots. You know we aren’t supposed to use those right now,” he told them, then pushed them out of the way so he could approach Mingi.

“Fucking incompetent…” he muttered under his breath as he stood looming over Mingi.

Mingi lunged for him, brandishing the prod, but Jeong was faster than the still partially-drugged Mingi. The Alpha grabbed the end of the prod, wrenched it out of Mingi’s hands, and tossed it aside. It clattered across the floor to the opposite end of the shower.

Mingi tried to move towards it, but Jeong imparted a savage shove to Mingi’s chest, and Mingi slammed back against the wet tile wall. He lost his footing and slipped, barely managing to catch himself on all fours before he could faceplant into the floor. He gasped as the pain from the force of his fall radiated up his palms into his wrists and forearms.

Before Mingi could recover, Jeong crouched down and grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look up at him. “If you don’t learn to behave yourself, things are going to go even more badly for you,” the Alpha told him. And there was that arrogant smile again.

Mingi tried to spit in his face, but the Alpha, used to this by now, blocked it with his other hand. He smirked as he wiped the saliva onto Mingi’s bare, muscular thigh, swiping his palm roughly over Mingi’s damp skin, moving much too close to Mingi’s exposed groin. Mingi hated himself for the shudder that coursed through him at Jeong’s touch. The Alpha surveyed Mingi’s naked body with something that looked like hunger in his jade-green eyes.

“That’s enough of your bullshit for today, Omega,” the Alpha ordered. “Now be a good boy and come with me.” Mingi’s breath hitched and his knees went weak as the Alpha spoke the command. He dropped his gaze, despising how helpless he felt any time he interacted with the Alpha. He had tried to fight him off multiple times already, but the Alpha had always overpowered him. If Mingi hadn’t been so weakened by the sedatives they kept giving him, he knew he could have taken him down.

Jeong’s long fingers formed a vice-like grip around Mingi’s wrist, and the Alpha yanked him to his feet. Mingi’s head spun from the potent combination of Jeong’s stifling scent and the remnant of the drugs in his system. He staggered drunkenly after the Alpha as he was dragged out of the shower and back to the room they had been keeping him imprisoned in.

Once they were back inside, Jeong released Mingi’s wrist, and Mingi’s knees gave out. He collapsed to the floor, reeling as Jeong locked the door behind them. The Alpha retrieved a folded pair of black leather pants from the table adjacent to the gurney that they had been keeping Mingi strapped to most of the time. He tossed the trousers at Mingi, who didn’t even move to try to catch them. They smacked into his broad chest and slid into his lap, partially covering his nakedness. Mingi glared at Jeong.

“It’s either you put those on, or I dress you myself,” the Alpha told him, then smirked as he also threw him a fresh pair of underwear. “And I really don’t think you’ll like my method of dressing you.”

Mingi scowled, then braced his hand on the wall as he pulled himself to his feet. Jeong’s scent was overwhelming. It was so hard to think about anything else when the man was in the room. There had been other Alphas around Mingi in this compound, but this man’s effect on him was ten times worse than any of the others had been.

He craved Jeong’s touch.

He hated it when Jeong touched him.

He wanted the Alpha nearby.

He wanted Jeong to go away and never come back.

Mingi was losing his mind. His heat was nearly upon him, and it seemed the Wolves had no intention of allowing him to suppress it.

Mingi pulled the clean underwear on, then struggled to tug the trousers up over his thighs. Jeong watched apathetically with a hand on his chin, until Mingi finally managed to squeeze into them and fasten the buttons.

“That’s the biggest pair I had,” Jeong commented. Mingi scowled down at the straining fabric, embarrassed that he was being forced to wear this asshole Alpha’s clothing. To wear his scent on his body.

“Why are you doing this?” Mingi asked. “Where are my clothes? Where’s my shirt?”

Jeong smiled, and Mingi was overcome with the desire to break the Alpha’s jaw so he could never smile again. But Mingi also didn’t want to move any closer to him.

“Your clothes were covered in blood, bodily fluids, and frankly, they were disgusting,” the Alpha responded. “So we had them burned. And no shirt yet, gorgeous, you’ve got to go impress some potential buyers.”

“I am not for sale, you motherfucker,” Mingi growled, balling his hands into fists. His head pounded painfully as his body fought the sedatives, but he forced himself to stay upright, instead of sinking to the floor like he wanted to. He sensed his legs trembling with the effort.

“Debatable,” Jeong replied, looking him up and down. He sighed and began to unbutton the vest he was wearing over his long-sleeved shirt. Mingi was mortified by the whimper that escaped his own lips as he backed away to the opposite corner of the room, trying in vain to distance himself from the Alpha.

What was Jeong doing, undressing himself in here, while alone with Mingi? The Alpha could have nothing but evil intentions.

Mingi flattened himself against the wall as Jeong approached him with the vest in hand. He stepped right up to Mingi and watched him curiously. Mingi held his breath. Jeong was standing much too close to him.

Mingi questioned himself— why wasn’t he fighting back right now? Why couldn’t he bring himself to attack the Alpha again? His brain and body felt incredibly sluggish. It was difficult for Mingi to form even a single coherent thought.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Eventually, Mingi could no longer endure the Alpha’s piercing gaze, and he lowered his eyes. Jeong responded by shoving the vest against Mingi’s chest.

“Put it on. That’s the best you’ll get,” Jeong told him. Mingi reached up cautiously to take it from him, relieved that was all the Alpha seemed to want. For now.

Jeong suddenly leaned over Mingi’s shoulder and took a long, deep inhale, then took a few steps back from Mingi. The Alpha shook his head and furrowed his brow, looking either frustrated or annoyed. Mingi couldn’t tell. He was just glad the Alpha had put a bit of distance between them.

Mingi grudgingly pulled on the vest and buttoned it. He supposed he would rather have something on than be shirtless. The dark leather matched the trousers he wore, and was cut in a deep v-neck, exposing half of his chest. He tugged at the bottom of it, trying in vain to cover the exposed sliver of skin just above his hips. Despite Mingi being slightly shorter than Jeong, the vest didn’t quite cover Mingi’s broader torso the same way it had the Alpha’s.

Jeong tapped his chin as he inspected Mingi. “I may have made things worse,” he muttered. He grabbed a small towel from the table and approached Mingi again. Mingi stood frozen as Jeong lifted the towel and began scrubbing at Mingi’s wet hair to remove some of the dampness. Mingi couldn’t help but lean slightly into the Alpha’s touch as the man’s fingers grazed his scalp over and over.

He bit his lip to keep any sounds from escaping. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this, but the last few days he had been on the receiving end of nothing but violence from the Wolves, so finally experiencing a touch that wasn’t aggressive made him yearn for more. It certainly wasn’t because he needed the Alpha to touch him.

When Jeong finished, he smoothed stray pieces of Mingi’s hair down with a surprisingly gentle touch. Something about the look in Jeong’s eyes as he arranged Mingi’s hair inhibited Mingi’s urge to smack the Alpha’s hand away like he wanted to. Jeong almost seemed… concerned. He even smelled like it, giving off the faint perspiration-tinged scent that Mingi associated with worry. But that couldn’t be right. There was no way an asshole like Jeong was capable of having a sympathetic emotion.

When he finished with Mingi’s hair, Jeong stepped back to inspect his work. Then he grabbed something off the table and walked right up to Mingi, invading his personal space again. The Alpha’s scent was so intoxicating, so chokingly pervasive as it continued to build up in this small windowless room, that even holding his breath did Mingi no good this time. His body responded in a way that horrified and embarrassed him, and he shifted away uncomfortably. Before Mingi could regain his composure, Jeong slapped cold metal into his wrists, and Mingi found his hands restrained by thick, heavy handcuffs.

“What…” Mingi trailed off, knowing that protesting was of no use here. At least the shock of it had startled his body into a less aroused state.

“It’s just for the show tonight,” Jeong explained, as if that made it any better, “To help ensure that you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Mingi groaned and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as if a pair of handcuffs could stop him from much. He envisioned smashing his fists into the side of the Alpha’s face. He just had to wait for the right moment to try again. To catch him off guard.

Jeong clapped his hands together loudly, startling Mingi back into reality, and announced, “Off we go. You can either follow me like a good little Omega, or I’ll fucking drag you. Your choice.”

Mingi reluctantly followed Jeong down the corridor, secretly thankful just to have a chance to stretch his legs some more after being strapped down to the gurney for hours at a time. They took several turns, which Mingi did his best to memorize, passing a few guards along the way who nodded deferentially at the Alpha. Mingi didn’t see any obvious exits on the way to their destination, but he tried to get a feel for the flow of foot traffic through the compound to see where most of the Wolves seemed to be coming and going from.

They finally entered a room with two doors on adjacent walls, and Jeong turned to face Mingi. “You’re going to go in there, and you’re going to stay in the goddamn circle until I come back in to get you, do you understand me?”

Mingi was already glancing around the room, looking for anything he could use as an improvised weapon. Unfortunately, there was nothing here but four empty walls. Jeong grabbed Mingi’s chin and forced Mingi to look at him. “Pay attention,” he demanded. “You are not to move, do you fucking understand me?”

“Yeah,” Mingi mumbled, deciding maybe he would wait and see what happened next before attacking again. He glanced up unhappily at Jeong, feeling a heavy, nauseating dread beginning to settle in his stomach. He didn’t want to be looked at like a piece of fresh meat by a bunch of ravenous Alphas.

Stupid, he was so stupid. He never should have gone to Sector 12 for the heat suppressants. He should have just tried to tough it out. He’d survived it twice before. Barely. But he’d had a lot of help. He missed Hongjoong. He missed his family. He hoped they would come for him soon. Mingi’s vision blurred.

“Stop it,” Jeong said, releasing his chin and running his hand through his dark, silvery blue hair as he paced back and forth in a small circle. He smelled frustrated again. Mingi furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what the Alpha wanted him to stop doing. He was standing still. He was behaving.

“I’m not doing anything,” Mingi said, keeping his head bowed and glancing up at him as he blinked back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“That!” the Alpha said. “You’re…”

As he watched Mingi, the Alpha’s expression suddenly changed from something like annoyance to anger. Mingi didn’t even see it coming when Jeong backhanded him across the face so hard that he reeled sideways and almost fell to the ground.

“What the fuck, you asshole?!” Mingi said, clutching the side of his face as Jeong abruptly opened one of the doors and dragged him inside. The room was too dark for Mingi to see much at first.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Mingi told Jeong, stumbling in the dark until the Alpha brought them to a halt. Mingi ripped his arm free of Jeong’s iron grasp, then struggled to stay upright as another wave of dizziness assailed him.

The Alpha hissed, “Stay in the circle!” and left Mingi standing alone in the middle of the small, dark room.

A bright light switched on overhead, and Mingi shut his eyes to block out the harshness of it. He heard Jeong exit the room, the door slamming shut behind him. When Mingi finally opened his eyes, he found himself standing on a shiny tiled black floor with a thick white painted circle in the center. He had been placed directly in the middle of the circle.

The side of his face still smarted from Jeong’s slap, and Mingi rubbed it gingerly as he glanced around the room. He realized upon seeing his own faint reflection that he was facing a thick pane of clear glass that divided the room in half. In the other half of the now well-lit room stood several people, some of them masked Wolves with guns, along with a few important-looking people in suits. Many of them gestured towards Mingi like they were speaking about him, but Mingi couldn’t hear anything they were saying.

Mingi spotted Jeong as he slipped into the opposite half of the room from a side door and joined the crowd. Mingi looked down at the painted circle on the ground, then back up at the Alpha, who was making prolonged eye contact with him from over the shoulder of one of the men with suits.

Mingi glanced back down at the floor. Why had Jeong told him to stay in the circle? The Omega in him wanted to do as the Alpha said. But the Hunter in him said fuck you, I’ll do the opposite of whatever you tell me.

He made eye contact with Jeong and took a step outside the circle.

Nothing happened. A couple of the Wolves on the other side of the glass glanced at him, shifting their weapons uneasily. Jeong continued to stare at him, a slow smirk growing on his face. Mingi wanted to punch it off him.

He took another step forward.

Again, nothing.

Jeong’s smirk was diabolical, almost like he was daring Mingi to come for him. So that’s what Mingi did.

He ran for the door they had entered the room by, and found it had sunk into the wall almost seamlessly, with no handles or any other way of being opened from this side. He snarled and charged at the glass separating himself from Jeong, lowering his shoulder for a blow as he crashed into it.

There was a loud thud as he rebounded off the glass and fell back on his ass. Everyone on the other side of the room appeared to have stopped their conversations and were staring at him now.

Jeong smirked and shook his head mockingly at Mingi. The glass was probably bulletproof, so it would be very thick. Very impact resistant. Very good at holding someone in.

It just hadn’t been introduced to Mingi yet.

Mingi scrambled to his feet and crashed into the glass again, being sure to hit the exact same place. There was another loud thud as he smashed against it, and several of the guards lifted their weapons in warning.

Mingi let out a furious yell and began to throw himself into the same place in the glass over and over again, all while making eye contact with Jeong and his mocking smile. Several of the guards seemed to be scrambling about, asking for orders. Many of the people in suits backed away behind them, gesturing frantically at Mingi. They were becoming frightened. Good. That meant he probably had an actual chance at breaking through. As long as he was persistent.

Mingi’s shoulder began to ache so badly from the repeated blows that he switched sides and began crashing against the glass with renewed vigor. He knew this was going to hurt like hell later, but it would be worth it if he could just reach Jeong and wipe that smug smirk off his face.

The next time Mingi threw himself against the glass, he thought he heard something crack. Hoping it was not his bones, he backed up a little to inspect it. Most of the people on the other side were scrambling around in a full panic now, and some had begun to leave the room.

Mingi had managed to crack the glass.

He only had eyes for Jeong. He backed away as he leveled his most venomous glare at the Alpha, then ran full force at the glass. This time, he finally broke through. Shards of shattered glass impaled themselves in his skin as he tumbled to the ground, skidding into the other half of the room with considerable momentum.

He came to a stop directly in front of the Alpha. Mingi instantly grabbed Jeong’s ankles and pulled him off balance, sending the tall Wolf crashing to the ground. Ignoring the guards and immense pain in his arms, Mingi clambered on top of the shocked Alpha, and raised his fists to beat that fucking smirk off his face.

Several things happened at once. Mingi swung at Jeong, several tranquilizer darts speared into Mingi’s back, and Jeong reached up with both hands… and caught Mingi’s fists. Mingi bellowed with wordless rage as his blow was halted just inches from the Alpha’s face.

Jeong smiled triumphantly.

Mingi groaned as the sedatives overwhelmed his body, then collapsed forward onto the Alpha.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Hongjoong vowed that he was never going to kiss Seonghwa. That kind of thing could only lead to more distractions from the work he needed to do. He had spent half of last night, time that he could have been working, agonizing over his foolish desires towards his husband. It was something that he never planned to act on.

He couldn’t.

Because that would be insane.

Hongjoong had read about such things. A human and a vampire in a relationship together… it was the sort of bad judgement that had gotten people killed, historically. It was also the kind of bullshit that people who became familiars often got themselves into, obsessing over their masters, hoping in vain that they would be ‘chosen’ to join them in eternal unlife someday. Hongjoong wanted no part of such nonsense. No matter how attracted he was to his husband. He just needed more fresh air and exercise to chase away the irrational thoughts and feelings he was having.

Hongjoong felt a bit sorry that he could never be the Belle that Seonghwa wanted to save him from his curse. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, it was real life. And perhaps someone would come along who could be that for Seonghwa. Perhaps that someone was already here. But it wasn’t going to be Hongjoong, that was for sure.

After the events of yesterday, Hongjoong decided to set a firm boundary— he could try to be friends with Seonghwa, if things continued to be cordial between them. But nothing more. Nothing that would distract him from his duties as a Hunter.

‘Your current duties need not be continued after the wedding. We will pass them on to someone else, so you can focus on your new life.’

It was what his mother had told him, the day before his marriage to Seonghwa. But Hongjoong had no intention of abandoning his duties. He couldn’t. What good was he sitting around a stuffy manor all day doing nothing? He was in a prime position to be investigating the Sire’s murder, more so than any of the other Hunters. They would see soon enough. He would show them that he could still be useful.

Hongjoong needed to focus on planning what he would do next, including how he would deliver his newly acquired information to the Hunters. He didn’t think going to the Hunter’s cabin was a good idea right now, especially if he had to bring Seonghwa along. The Commander and the senior Hunters spent the majority of their time there, while the juniors split their time fairly evenly between the cabin and the City— where those who wanted to, namely Mingi and Wooyoung, but sometimes also Jongho, could have more of a social life. Hongjoong would likely have to go to the City again, on pretense of going out for entertainment, to avoid raising too much suspicion from anyone in the Coven who may be tracking his movements and intercepting his messages.

Hongjoong finished lacing up his boots and pulled on one of his longer, heavier outdoor coats. He had considered trying to follow Seonghwa this morning to see where his husband often went in the early mornings, but he didn’t want to risk getting caught and upsetting the delicate balance of things as they were now. When Hongjoong had sleepily questioned where the vampire was going this morning, Seonghwa had told him he would tell him when he thought the time was right, whatever that meant. Still, his husband’s mysterious hobbies intrigued Hongjoong, and he found himself trudging around the gardens during the early morning before sunrise, looking in vain for imprints on the ground that resembled the boots Seonghwa often wore.

The Coven manor and its grounds were enormous. Located on the mountainside overlooking the City, the sprawling vampire estate was a monument to bygone decadence that was otherwise surrounded by dense forests. Various outbuildings along with a large gazebo were located beyond the back gardens, which consisted of a carefully curated maze-like landscaping filled with colorful flower beds, well-manicured topiaries, and a few inert fountains. There was even a small orchard of fruit trees. The paths through the gardens consisted of stone or gravel walkways, with no real places to get muddy unless one walked directly through the greenery.

Familiars could often be found outdoors working on the landscaping or tending to the orchard, so that Hongjoong was never truly alone. If he walked far enough, he would eventually come upon the enormous spiked iron fence that surrounded the property. There was no way to climb it without risking severe injury, and Hongjoong had suspected and eventually confirmed that it was electrified.

The only real way in or out of the vampire estate was the front gate, so Hongjoong would either need to risk raising alarms by leaving without Seonghwa, or invent an excursion that would take them to the City so he could leave his message. Another date– no, it was just an outing– into the City with Seonghwa seemed in order. Hongjoong eventually gave up trying to find Seonghwa and returned to their quarters, just as the sun started to rise.

Seonghwa was late to breakfast, returning to the room with muddy boots once again as San began gathering up the dishes. The familiar protested unsuccessfully as Hongjoong helped him load his cart. Today, Hongjoong had finally convinced San to sit down and eat something with him, so he was feeling quite pleased with himself.

Hongjoong glanced down at Seonghwa’s boots as he removed them at the entryway. “I know you’re not going outside in the daylight, so what are you up to?” Hongjoong asked him. “Digging an escape hatch in the basement?”

Seonghwa smiled enigmatically. “I’ve been working on a little project of mine. I’ll show you next time. But not right now.”

Hongjoong sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m going to follow you next time if you don’t take me with you,” he threatened.

Seonghwa looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “You can try.”

“I’ll remind you that you promised to show me, then.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He smiled and nodded gratefully as he accepted a cup of blood from San.

Hongjoong decided to stop pressing him about it for now, even though his curiosity was piqued. Being patient and letting his husband open up at his own pace seemed to be the key to earning Seonghwa’s trust.

San smiled awkwardly and bowed to his masters before departing with his cart of dishes. Hongjoong took a seat on the sofa and began spreading some of the sketches he had made onto the coffee table as Seonghwa took a seat in his armchair.

“What are those?” Seonghwa asked, perking up and leaning forward for a better view.

“I wanted to see what you think of some fashion concepts I’ve come up with for us,” Hongjoong said, tapping one of the sketches. He hoped Seonghwa liked his ideas. Hongjoong had never met anyone else who had a genuine interest in fashion like he did. His brothers had often humored him, but it wasn’t the same as Seonghwa, who seemed to enjoy creating ensembles with him just for fun. Wooyoung preferred to wear mostly black all the time, Mingi understandably wanted to cover his body and look as menacing as possible, and Jongho seemed allergic to showing skin. “I think we could make these fairly easily with some of the clothes we already have,” Hongjoong told Seonghwa.

His husband’s expression brightened as he inspected each of the designs. Seonghwa picked up one of the sketches and studied it for a moment. “This is incredible,” he murmured. “I love this one for you. You have the perfect hips for it. I like how the trousers hug the tops of the thighs then flair out near the ankle. It will make for very flattering lines on you.” Hongjoong raised his eyebrows in surprise at Seonghwa’s candor, and his husband blushed, avoiding eye contact as he sifted through the other sketches until another one caught his eye. He lifted it and examined it more closely. “This one is my favorite, I think,” Seonghwa said as he placed it side by side with the one he had suggested for Hongjoong. “What if we make these two for us to start, but we add this,” he pointed to a skirt in one of the other sketches, “But as a sort of half skirt over the back of mine?”

“That’s such a good idea,” Hongjoong said excitedly, taking out his pencil and immediately starting to add it to the sketch. When he finished, he held it up so his husband could see, and Seonghwa’s resulting smile could have lit up the room.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. I like the detail you added here,” Seonghwa said as he pointed at the hem of the skirt. “I think I have some salvaged material you’d like for this. I’ll ask San to bring some things up from storage, and we can work on it this evening, if you like.”

Hongjoong nodded happily. “That sounds fun.”

He gathered each of the sketches and returned them to the desk. Seonghwa watched him, sipping his blood and smirking slightly.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you clean up after yourself,” Seonghwa observed, his tone light.

Hongjoong could feel the heat rising in his neck. “Hey, that’s not fair, I clean up… organize… put things away… sometimes…” He trailed off, thinking about how he had often found things organized and put away for him after returning to their quarters. “Are you meaning to tell me it’s been you, not San, that’s always putting my things away?”

Seonghwa seemed to be suppressing a smile as he took another sip of blood, then he said, “Now, why would I do that?”

Hongjoong shook his head. “Because you’re crazy. You organize things by color like a psychopath.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Oh, I don’t know about that. But it seemed you could use a little help.”

Hongjoong crossed his arms and said sulkily, “I do have a system for finding things, you know.”

“Is that the system that had you searching for a pencil for almost twenty minutes the other day?”

Hongjoong laughed. It hadn’t actually been twenty minutes, had it? “Okay, maybe you have a point,” he forced himself to admit. “Um, thank you. I think.” He stalked off into the bedroom, pretending like he needed something in there to hide his embarrassment.

That afternoon, Hongjoong sparred with San and Seonghwa again. Hongjoong kept it professional with Seonghwa this time, refraining from letting his attraction to his husband cause him to do anything stupid. Seonghwa didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he was even grateful that Hongjoong seemed to have given up on teasing him or flirting with him. Neither of them so much as hinted at the fact that they had almost kissed the first time they’d sparred, and Hongjoong hoped that the vampire would just dismiss the incident from his memory.

Seonghwa joined Hongjoong that evening to work on creating a set of matching outfits for their next outing. Hongjoong hoped that getting Seonghwa excited about new clothes would make it easier for the vampire to agree to go on another excursion into the City soon.

They spent a pleasant few hours working together before retiring to bed for the night. As he drifted off to sleep, Hongjoong had the thought for the first time that maybe having a husband, even if he was a vampire, wasn’t so bad after all.

After another full day of not hearing back from any other Coven members about his wanting to interview them, Hongjoong was getting restless. At breakfast the next morning, he decided to mention his concerns to Seonghwa.

“I’m thinking about writing them more strongly worded letters, or even knocking on their doors myself,” Hongjoong said, not even trying to mask his annoyance. He fidgeted absently with his wedding ring, trying to think about what would be the best method to get the information he needed. Being too threatening probably wouldn’t be the best approach, as it could cause the vampires to not be as forthcoming. But Seonghwa knew them all best. Perhaps a firm push was what they needed.

To his surprise, Seonghwa replied, “Ah. I was about to tell you– I’ve informed all of the Coven members whom you haven’t interviewed with you yet that they are required to stop by and speak with you today in our quarters. I’ve given them all thirty minute timeslots and told them either to show up, or to provide me with a written reason why they can’t. I made it clear that these interviews are not simply a suggestion.”

“Um… wow, thank you,” Hongjoong murmured, blinking in disbelief. He was genuinely astonished by his husband’s helpful gesture. He knew how difficult it had been for Seonghwa to accept having a Hunter living with him in his private dwelling, so he appreciated that Seonghwa finally seemed to be amenable to helping him a bit. Even though Hongjoong had been impatient with him, undoing years of deep-seated mistrust between Hunters and vampires wasn’t something that he had really expected to happen overnight. But this was a nice first step.

“The only exceptions are Yunho, who’s been away for a while and hasn’t yet told me when he will return, and Yeosang, who should be back in a few days, if not sooner,” Seonghwa told him.

Hongjoong nodded. “Do you know where they are? Or what they’re doing?”

“I don’t know exactly, but they’re both likely in or near the City somewhere,” Seonghwa answered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. “They will probably contact me soon. In the meantime, this is for you.”

He handed Hongjoong a sheet of paper listing the names of the Coven members along with the times they would arrive for their interviews, all written in a precise, delicate script that Hongjoong recognized. Seonghwa had made the schedule himself.

“Thank you so much, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said, giving him a grateful nod.

Seonghwa dropped his gaze and said, “It’s the least I can do for you, after everything.”

“I appreciate the time and effort you put into this,” Hongjoong told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing,” Seonghwa said, waving his hand flippantly.

“It isn’t to me.”

Seonghwa made a slightly pained expression, as if embarrassed, then he stood to leave. “I need to meet with the familiars about a few minor security matters. I’ll be back before dinnertime. Good luck with your interviews today.”

“Thank you,” Hongjoong replied, smiling gratefully.

After Seonghwa left, Hongjoong got dressed and arranged his note-taking materials in the sitting room for his interviews. The first one wouldn’t be for another half hour, so he sat fidgeting nervously, planning the questions he would ask. A thump from the direction of the bedroom interrupted his thoughts, and he stood, pulling out his knife instinctively. San had left earlier with the remains of breakfast, so Hongjoong wouldn’t have missed his return.

He searched the bedroom, feeling slightly silly for opening the wardrobes and checking under the bed, but one could never be too careful in a house that had fucking secret passages leading to who knows where. Hongjoong hoped there weren’t any passages or places to spy from in their chambers. Certainly Seonghwa wouldn’t have chosen this as their quarters if there had been.

Hongjoong decided to check all of the walls and floorboards and fireplaces for anything unusual, just in case, while he waited for his first interview. After several minutes of examination, nothing really stood out to him, and none of the spaces behind the walls sounded hollow. He thought maybe he should ask Seonghwa about it later, just to be sure.

A knock sounded at the door, and Hongjoong glanced at the clock. The first Coven member must have arrived, right on time.

Hongjoong checked his clothes in the mirror and smoothed out any wrinkles, gave his hair and earrings a final inspection to make sure everything looked nice and professional, as no-nonsense as possible, then he walked to the sitting room and opened the door. His first visitor was a tall, pale woman wearing a lace-trimmed black gown with an asymmetric hem and tall leather boots. She had dark hair and striking blue eyes. She appeared to be around twenty years old or so, though Hongjoong already knew from what Seonghwa had told him that she was one of the oldest of the Coven, apart from Yeosang and Yunho.

“Welcome,” Hongjoong bowed in greeting as she removed her boots and slipped into the guest slippers. “Thank you for coming.”

“Hello, Master Hongjoong,” she replied, offering a polite bow. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You must be Iseul,” Hongjoong said, standing aside and ushering her into the living quarters.

“I must be,” she answered, smiling enigmatically. She had a slight accent that Hongjoong couldn’t quite place. He really hadn’t met many people in his life that spoke another language, especially as their first language. The vampire strode into the sitting room and sat down in Seonghwa’s armchair, crossing her legs and leaning back with an authoritative air, as if she were going to be the one conducting the interview.

Hongjoong wouldn’t allow himself to be intimidated. He closed the door and walked over to the sofa, then took his notebook and pencil from the coffee table. He took his time turning the pages, as a subtle way of taking back control of the situation. The vampire watched him with an amused look on her face. She was around two centuries old, and had been around before the world ended, yet she appeared to be younger than both Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Hongjoong tried to remind himself of her actual age and spoke formally, instead of how he would to a peer or someone younger.

He lifted his pen and smiled. “I wanted to start by asking, where were you the night before the Sire’s body was discovered?

Iseul tapped her long-nailed fingers on the arm of the chair. “That night… I was, hmm… incredibly occupied,” she said, smirking. “I was celebrating my birthday by playing games with–” she stopped and counted on her fingers “–Yes, seven of our familiars.”

Hongjoong tried not to look taken aback, and Iseul’s smirk turned into a grin.

“So I have plenty of alibis, you see,” she said, looking smug.

“Can you tell me the names of the familiars that were there?” Hongjoong asked, schooling his expression to remain neutral.

Iseul smiled and listed them off, and Hongjoong wrote their names down, secretly grateful to know that San wasn’t among them. “They can all confirm that we were in my quarters until at least noon the following day,” Iseul told him, “And a couple of them stayed around until sunset, when the Sire’s body was discovered.”

“Thank you, that’s very helpful,” Hongjoong said politely. He moved on to his next question, “Did you notice any unusual behavior from any of the other Coven members or familiars in the days leading up to the incident?”

Iseul pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Hmm… not really,” she mused. “Master Yeosang was out and about a bit more than usual, but he goes through phases of isolation and disappears often… so nothing too out of the ordinary.”

Hongjoong jotted down the details, then asked, “Did you see the Donghun, his familiar, or Mansik the day before or the day of the discovery of the Sire’s body?”

The vampire tilted her head. “Why the specific interest in those three?” she asked, her bright eyes glimmering with curiosity.

“Just answer the question, please,” Hongjoong said, meeting her gaze boldly until she relented.

“Ah, no. I was in my rooms all night and most of the day up until the discovery, as I said before. I don’t remember seeing any of those three at all that week. Not until the Sire’s funeral, which was the day after he was discovered.”

Hongjoong nodded as he made a note of it.

“It was all a great shock to us,” Iseul continued, “Most especially to poor Master Seonghwa, I think. He looked absolutely devastated throughout the entire funeral service.”

“Did he say anything of note or seem suspicious of anyone?”

“No. In fact, he barely said a word. I don’t think he was ready to assume the role of Sire without either parent left to guide him. But I think he’s doing his best in spite of it all, poor thing.”

“Were any Coven members resentful of such a young vampire becoming the next Sire, or did they accept him right away?”

“Well, as you know, Seonghwa has been groomed to be the next Sire since his birth, so it came as no surprise when the triad of Covens confirmed him as this Coven’s next leader. I don’t think there was much dissent, but the votes were anonymous, so I can’t be sure of who any dissenters were. Regardless, many of the Coven members have their own agendas, and have been eager to establish influence over our new young Sire. Our oldest member, Yeosang, seems to have stepped into a sort of advisory role.”

When Hongjoong finished writing, he asked, “What about Yunho? Was he around during this?”

Iseul studied her dagger-like fingernails. “I haven’t seen him since the wedding,” she answered. “Frankly, I was surprised that he showed up for it. He’d been gone for weeks off and on before that. I don’t remember seeing him around then, even when the discovery of the body was announced.”

“Do you know why he’s gone so often?”

Iseul shrugged. “Who knows? He’s certainly the one who is most traveled among us. He is rarely around. It’s been that way for as long as I’ve known him.”

“How long have you known him?”

“I met him soon after I was Made, nearly 200 years ago.”

Hongjoong flipped back a couple of pages and added that to the profile he’d created for her. “So you were around before the world ended.”

Iseul nodded. “I was only nineteen when they Made me. But that was after the world ended when I was twelve. I was the only one of my family to survive.”

“I’d love to ask you more about that sometime,” Hongjoong said sincerely. Pre-apocalypse history was a casual interest of his, but Mingi was obsessed with it. Mingi would be so excited to hear about anything that Hongjoong could learn about the past from someone that old. “Can you tell me, just out of curiosity, what is the accent you have?” Hongjoong asked.

“Ah,” Iseul said, seeming amused. “I was born just across the sea, but I’ve lived here for… a while. And my father was from… across the ocean.”

Hongjoong smiled and said, “It’s barely noticeable, only when you say certain words.”

Iseul chuckled. “I thought I’d be rid of an accent by now, but it appears it still sticks with me, even after all this time. None of the familiars ever mention it. Perhaps they’re afraid to, or they simply don’t care.”

Hongjoong nodded. “Last question, do you know of anyone, especially within the Coven, who had any reason to harm the Sire? Who disliked him or even hated him?”

The smile on Iseul’s face vanished, and Hongjoong could see her expression becoming more guarded. “There of course have been many different instances of disagreements with the Sire’s decisions and his… leadership methods over the years.” Iseul hesitated.

“Go on,” Hongjoong urged.

“I think you should speak with our oldest members about that. I am not… involved enough in the Coven’s daily affairs that I feel comfortable speaking on it, or making any conjectures.”

“I understand.”

Hongjoong glanced at his watch. He stood and said, “It’s nearly time for the next interview, but truly, thank you so much for answering my questions. It’s been a refreshing change to speak to someone who is willing to talk so freely with me.”

The vampire stood and bowed politely, and Hongjoong returned the gesture. “My pleasure, Master Hongjoong,” she told him, grinning so that she looked even younger than she already appeared. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“So do I.”

Hongjoong interviewed the rest of the Coven members one by one for the rest of the morning into the early afternoon. Nobody else was as forthcoming as Iseul had been, and Hongjoong was unable to glean much more interesting information from them. It seemed that Yeosang and Yunho were the two that would be able to help him the most, but they weren’t around right now, so Hongjoong would have to wait to speak with them.

After sparring again, with just San this time, then washing up, Hongjoong decided to go back to the music room to try working on a new piece. He planned on writing something more cheerful for Seonghwa and playing it for him tomorrow evening, then asking the vampire to accompany him to the City within a day or two.

As he rounded the corner to the appropriate corridor, Hongjoong spotted the Ice Prince’s familiar, Huicheol, turning into a connecting corridor at the end of the hall. The familiar had been walking away from Hongjoong, and hadn’t appeared to notice him. Hongjoong checked behind himself to be sure no one else was around, then took off down the hall to follow him. If Huicheol was up to no good, if he was snooping on his master’s orders, Hongjoong wanted to know where he was headed.

As Hongjoong peered around the corner, he saw Huicheol turn a key in one of the doors near the end of the corridor and slip quickly into a room. After the door shut behind him, Hongjoong approached it cautiously.

This door was one of many thick, ornately carved wooden doors reinforced with iron banding– the kind that Hongjoong had noted during his earlier surveys of the manor that was always kept locked. He assumed most of the doors like this led to one of the vampires’ quarters. Perhaps this one was Sung-Hoon’s or Baek-Yun’s. But Huicheol had appeared to Hongjoong as if he were trying to be somewhat stealthy.

Hongjoong took out his notebook and marked this room in one of the corridor maps he had sketched, then turned to a fresh page and sketched the symbols carved into the door. He didn’t know what they meant, but he planned on finding out.

Not wanting to be caught lurking outside the door when Huicheol returned, Hongjoong quickly departed the corridor. He stopped at the library and grabbed a book about ancient languages that he had seen during one of his previous surveys of the shelves. Then he added another on symbols, iconography, and paleography. Perhaps one of them would be helpful for decoding the symbols on the door.

He supposed that he could ask Seonghwa for assistance, but something in the back of his mind warned him that he probably shouldn’t let Seonghwa know that he’d been snooping around the manor again, trying to find his way past locked doors. Seonghwa had not seemed happy about it when he had brought it up to Hongjoong during their argument when he was ill. Thinking about it still made Hongjoong rather upset, as this was supposed to be his house too. He shouldn’t be chided for wanting to know more about it. He thought perhaps it was time that they had a talk about giving him a little more freedom of movement in their living space, now that Seonghwa was beginning to trust him more. Maybe Seonghwa would even offer him the key to that door, as long as it wasn’t someone’s personal quarters.

Hongjoong made one final sweep of the shelves, adding a book he found about the history of the Wolves to his pile, just because it seemed interesting. Instead of heading back down the corridor though, he decided to try to see if the secret passage in the library led anywhere close to his and Seonghwa’s quarters. The sound he had heard earlier this morning was still on his mind, and in spite of finding nothing on his inspection of their chambers, he was still feeling a little paranoid about it.

He tucked the books under one arm and pulled the tome that would open the bookcase, then entered the passageway, pulling out his lighter so he could see. He tried to keep an idea of the direction he needed to go in order to return to their quarters, but he kept running into apparent dead ends and having to backtrack, ending up a bit disoriented as to what direction he was heading in the mazelike passageways.

Hongjoong wondered if there was a map somewhere of these passages, or if he should take the time to try to make one himself. He finally located a new exit, this one leading into the front of the ceremonial hall where he’d gotten married. It opened one of the wall panels near the raised dais where he and Seonghwa had said their vows. The room was strangely empty now, with all of the chairs and wedding decorations gone. Hongjoong didn’t exit the passage yet, as this location in the manor wasn’t very close to their quarters, but it was enough for him to reorient himself a bit before heading back into the darkness.

Unfortunately, he lost his sense of direction again fairly quickly. He stopped to try to figure out where to go next, thinking that it would be ideal to bring a compass next time, when he heard voices quite clearly from the other side of the wall. He held his lighter up, searching for a peephole like the one he had found in the library, and sure enough, he was able to locate one within a minute or two.

He slid the little cover off the peephole and peered through, into what appeared to be the manor’s large kitchen area. He saw San and Seonghwa standing by a large counter with a spread of food on it. Something seemed to amplify what he was hearing as they spoke.

Seonghwa asked, “Do you think everything is ready?”

“Just a few final things, but it will be done on time,” San answered.

“And you’re sure he doesn’t suspect anything?” Seonghwa inquired urgently. Hongjoong held his breath. Who was he? Were they talking about Hongjoong?

“Not at all. I’ve been very careful,” San replied.

“Okay,” Seonghwa said, seeming relieved. “Thank you so much, San. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I am always here for you, Master, whatever you need.”

“I do need your advice on something. Let’s go to my chambers though.”

San nodded, and they both left the kitchen together.

Hongjoong closed the peephole, then made his way through the tunnels to the first exit he could find, which was the one back in the ceremonial hall. He left the hall and continued back to their chambers, feeling slightly shaken from what he had overheard. He hoped that whatever Seonghwa and San were talking about was innocuous, but it was hard to tell without the proper context. Hongjoong decided to remain on his guard until he figured out what it was they’d been discussing.

When he reached their quarters, San emerged from the bedchamber and appeared pleasantly surprised to see Hongjoong. The familiar asked if he would like any tea or snacks before dinnertime, and Hongjoong told him that he would appreciate some tea.

Seonghwa entered the sitting room from the bedchamber just a moment later, and eyed Hongjoong’s stack of books for a moment before saying, “Husband, please wear something formal for dinner tonight. Something, hmm… sparkly please. I will be back in an hour.”

“Oh really?” Hongjoong asked, genuinely surprised. “It’s not even noodle night.”

Seonghwa’s lower lip jutted out slightly as he made a pouty face, one that made Hongjoong have to look away before he started thinking things that he shouldn’t be thinking again. “It doesn’t need to be Saturday night to dress up for dinner, does it?” Seonghwa asked, pausing at the door to their chambers to wait for Hongjoong’s response.

“Of course not. I’ll look forward to whatever you have planned,” Hongjoong told him, swallowing back the unease he had been feeling. He was being silly. It was just dinner he had overheard them discussing, that was all.

“Good. I’ll be back soon.”

“See you later.”

Hongjoong did own a piece or two that could be considered sparkly, so finding something to wear that fit tonight’s criterion would be no problem. He spent the majority of the next hour sifting through his newly acquired reading materials for something that could help him decode the symbols on the door. Then he got dressed for dinner.

Seonghwa arrived on time and changed his clothes, then he asked Hongjoong to follow him to the formal dining room. There they were served an elaborate dinner similar to the one they had before, this time with an abundance of noodles, which Seonghwa still managed to finish off in the end.

Afterwards, Seonghwa beckoned Hongjoong to the manor’s enormous garage. It was full of vehicles, many of which Hongjoong suspected were just for show, as they were likely too old to run anymore. The vampire led him to the car they had taken to the City for their arcade trip, where San ushered them into the backseat before taking the wheel. Hongjoong felt his anxiety returning as the familiar drove them out the front gates and onto a road that took them even higher up the mountainside.

‘And you’re sure he doesn’t suspect anything?’

‘Not at all. I’ve been very careful.’

The words replayed over and over in Hongjoong’s mind, until he couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.

“What are we doing?” he blurted out, trying not to appear nervous. He had his knife on him, but that was all. Maybe training with San and Seonghwa had been a mistake. Maybe now they felt confident enough to take him out to the middle of nowhere and be rid of him once and for all, and they’d given him a nice final meal as an apology for what they were about to do. It would be easy enough to claim that something unfortunate had happened in the wild forest up here, like a bear attack or something. Hongjoong’s family wouldn’t believe that of course, but they would need to find proof that he had been murdered, which might be easy to cover up out here, so far away from everything.

Seonghwa, who had been gazing out the window into the night, turned around to look at Hongjoong. Hongjoong tried his best to appear nonchalant, but Seonghwa frowned slightly. The vampire placed his palm gently onto Hongjoong’s wrist and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Hongjoong took a couple of deep breaths. It irked him that Seonghwa often seemed to gauge his moods by listening to his heartbeat. It didn’t seem fair that he could have that kind of insight into Hongjoong’s current state, while Hongjoong couldn’t do the same to him.

“It’s fine,” Hongjoong said, trying to relax his stiff posture so that his discomfort was not apparent in his demeanor. But it was already too late. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Hongjoong pulled his hand away from him, turning to look out the window. He needed to get an idea of where they were going. And how to get back.

“You’re acting strange,” Seonghwa pointed out. Hongjoong could see the vampire’s reflection in the glass, and could’ve sworn his expression looked a little hurt.

“No, I’m not,” Hongjoong replied, swallowing hard and trying to breathe normally. He adjusted his shimmery bronze cropped jacket, running his fingers idly over some of the sparkling gold detailing he had added to it last year. The black turtleneck he had chosen to wear beneath it was starting to feel a bit too warm.

Seonghwa’s hands were back in his lap now, and he was tracing his fingertips back and forth across the diamonds on his wedding ring. “You know that it’s New Year’s Eve, right?” he asked. “The day before Seollal?”

Seollal? Already?

“What? No… is it?” Hongjoong turned back to face him. Had Seonghwa planned something to celebrate the new year? Was that what this was all about? Hongjoong felt like a fool. He was glad the lighting was dim in the back of the car so that Seonghwa couldn’t see him blush.

The car rolled to a stop and shut off.

“Here we are!” San announced after opening the door on Seonghwa’s side. “I’ll be back to pick you up as discussed, Master Seonghwa.”

“Thank you, San,” Seonghwa said, stepping out of the car and gesturing for Hongjoong to follow him. Hongjoong slid across the seat and stepped outside, then San closed the door behind them.

The elegant silver sequined shirt Seonghwa wore under his black coat sparkled in the moonlight, and his pale skin appeared almost as white as his hair. To Hongjoong, his husband looked like a marble statue that belonged in a museum. He had seen such things once in old media. They had been used to represent gods and goddesses and people of great import or beauty. People who were highly praised and admired. It was a shame that his husband had been secluded away in a manor, hidden in the shadows for most of his life.

He would willingly drink every last drop of your blood, given the chance.

And he would someday soon, at the Ceremony. Hongjoong shivered, and it was only partially due to the cold. He had to stay focused. Stay alert. Surely Seonghwa wouldn’t try to kill him or Make him before the blood rite Ceremony. This was something else, wasn’t it? Something to do with Seollal? But if they were supposed to be celebrating, then why were they up here, alone on the dark mountainside?

Stop being fucking paranoid.

If Hongjoong wanted Seonghwa to trust him, he also had to learn how to trust Seonghwa. He didn’t know if he could do it, but he would try. Tonight would be the true test of it.

As the car pulled away, Seonghwa guided Hongjoong to follow him towards a softly glowing light in the distance. As they drew closer, Hongjoong realized that the light was a large heating lamp set up next to a picnic blanket covered in pillows. The lamp provided enough visibility so Hongjoong could see an open basket in the center of the blanket containing a large thermos and two glasses, along with a large covered dish. Two unlit paper lanterns sat on the far side of the blanket.

Seonghwa stopped and turned to Hongjoong, his pale face dimly illuminated by the warm lamplight. “Have you ever watched the release of the lanterns on New Year’s Eve?” he asked. His expression seemed uncertain, but his dark eyes appeared hopeful. Eager. “I’ve done it every year since I was a small child. I thought we could watch them together, so you wouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Hongjoong felt all of the pent up tension release from his body, like the air in a balloon that had just popped. So this had been what he had overheard San and Seonghwa talking about. Seonghwa had wanted to surprise him with something nice for New Year’s eve. Hongjoong felt like an idiot for thinking that it was something more sinister. He should have known better. He should have trusted them.

“San and I made cinnamon ginger punch and fried honey cookies for dessert tonight,” Seonghwa said, clasping his hands together. “Don’t worry, he had some already while we were baking. Too many, I think.”

Hongjoong was dumbfounded. No one outside of his brothers had ever done anything so thoughtful for him. He usually watched the Seollal lanterns with his brothers, but he had missed watching the release from the City last year because he had been working nonstop and had fallen asleep. They had decided to let him rest because they had a Hunt planned for the next day, but they had released lanterns of their own together with him the following night after the successful Hunt.

“If you’re too cold even with the heater, I brought extra blankets,” Seonghwa suggested, gesturing to a folded pile of them stacked near the pillows. He began fiddling with a strand of his hair, seeming somewhat bewildered that Hongjoong hadn’t said anything yet.

“Wow…” Hongjoong finally managed to speak. “This is really nice, Seonghwa. Thank you for thinking of me. Um… it feels fine for me right now, with the heater.”

Seonghwa nodded, seeming relieved, and he gestured for Hongjoong to join him on the blanket. Hongjoong considered that perhaps his husband was trying to win him over since Hongjoong had been a little more distant with him the past couple of days. But that was absurd– Seonghwa had admitted that he planned to watch the lanterns anyway. He probably just hadn’t wanted to leave Hongjoong home by himself. Hongjoong wondered why Seonghwa would have wanted him to join instead of San, or even one of the other Coven members, though. But Seonghwa didn’t seem to be close with any of the Coven members, outside of the two that were away right now. Maybe Seonghwa thought it was his duty as a husband to include Hongjoong in holiday celebrations.

Or maybe Seonghwa actually enjoyed his company.

The view up here was breathtaking. From this overlook, the lights of the sprawling City glowed below them, the clock-like sector divisions almost apparent. Overhead, the endless black of the night sky was strewn with glittering stars. Here so high above everything, it seemed that Hongjoong could reach out and touch them.

Seonghwa settled onto a cushion and began to pull things out of the basket. Hongjoong plopped down next to him and began to help. The tops of the cookies were decorated with pine nuts and ginger threads arranged to make happy faces or hearts or stars.

Seonghwa looked surprised as he pulled them out and said, “Sanie must have added a few things to them.”

Hongjoong chuckled, both at the cookies, and at Seonghwa’s diminutive use of the familiar’s name. “Aw, I like it. They’re cute! Just like our Sanie.”

“They are,” Seonghwa agreed. He offered a cookie decorated with a heart to Hongjoong, and picked up a star cookie for himself.

Hongjoong took the cookie from him and tapped it against Seonghwa’s like he was making a toast. “To cookies! And to the new year!”

“To cookies and the new year!” Seonghwa echoed, smiling softly.

Together they ate the whole platter of cookies along with enjoying a couple of glasses of cinnamon ginger punch, finishing up just as it was time for the release of the lanterns. Seonghwa gestured towards the City, eyes shining with anticipation.

“Tonight’s wind should take them up and over the mountain, so they may float right over us!” he explained excitedly.

Hongjoong grinned at Seonghwa’s enthusiasm. They settled back against the cushions with a thick blanket spread over them both to watch as the lanterns began to float up from the city below, flowing like a river of light up towards the mountain. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up with wonder, and he clasped his hands happily in front of his chest as he took in the incredible view. Hongjoong found himself watching Seonghwa instead of the lanterns. Seeing the light reflected in his eyes was just as captivating as watching the lanterns themselves.

He glanced away quickly when Seonghwa peered back at him for a moment. He didn’t want to be caught staring. It was just… fascinating to see a vampire having fun, that was all.

When the parade of glowing lanterns reached the mountainside and continued to drift into the sky above them, Seonghwa rose to his feet and retrieved their own lanterns. He held one out to Hongjoong, who got up to accept it.

They stood together for a moment, gazing up at the winding sea of light above them. “Make a wish,” Seonghwa whispered, almost to himself. Hongjoong couldn’t take his eyes off of his husband– the way his head tilted back, exposing his slender, graceful neck, and the way his wispy, silvery white hair grazed his shoulders as he turned his head. His lips were slightly parted in awe of the vision above them.

To Hongjoong, however, Seonghwa was the most resplendent vision of the night.

Why would such a beautiful creature choose to share such a moment with him? Hongjoong couldn’t understand it. He had done nothing but cause Seonghwa misery for most of their time together. And yet here he was, choosing to do something that was special to him… with Hongjoong of all people. A vampire willingly spending time with a Hunter.

Seonghwa lifted his lantern, then turned to Hongjoong. “Together?” he asked, smiling expectantly. Seeing Seonghwa like this… Hongjoong got butterflies in his stomach again. His husband looked so genuinely… happy. Like the boy in the picture.

Hongjoong thought about what he would wish for this year. He pondered it silently– wishing that he wouldn’t have to go through with the blood rite Ceremony. That he wouldn’t have to die to save his family, and they could find another way to keep the peace. It was a stupid wish, he knew that. But nobody else had to know about it.

He nodded at Seonghwa, unable to voice it aloud. Seonghwa’s smile faltered, and Hongjoong thought that for maybe a second, the vampire had somehow understood. But that was silly, it wasn’t as if Seonghwa could read minds.

Seonghwa closed his eyes briefly, as if also making his wish silently, in solidarity with Hongjoong. Then they activated the tiny fuel cells that would allow the lanterns to float for a short time before bursting them into harmless dust. Together they released their lights, their wishes, into the sky.

As they watched their lanterns float upwards to join the others, Seonghwa shifted his weight back and his arm bumped against Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong reached out instinctively to steady him, placing his hands on Seonghwa’s hips. “Ah, I’m sorry,” Seonghwa whispered, glancing away sheepishly and stepping out of Hongjoong’s grasp.

“Don’t be,” Hongjoong said. His husband had planned all of this for them, and he wasn’t really sure how to express his appreciation, but he felt the need to connect with Seonghwa in this moment, to share it together fully. He reached out tentatively for Seonghwa’s hand, then took it in his own, entwining their fingers together. What happened out here in the dark of night didn’t matter. It didn’t count. It was New Year’s eve, after all.

Seonghwa’s fingers were stiff at first, as if he were surprised or unnerved by what Hongjoong had just done. Hongjoong squeezed his hand reassuringly, and the vampire let out a tiny exhale and relaxed a bit. Seonghwa’s hand was so cold. Hongjoong hoped that he could warm it somewhat with his own.

They stood like that for a long while, watching the rest of the lanterns flow up and over the mountain like a living sea of soft golden light, until they seemed to join the stars. Far away in the blackness of the night sky, they began winking out one by one.

Standing there holding Seonghwa’s hand, Hongjoong began to formulate an idea for a song in his head. A song for Seonghwa.

“Happy New Year,” Seonghwa’s soft voice interrupted Hongjoong’s thoughts.

Hongjoong turned to him, and Seonghwa was looking at him with such a gentle, admiring look on his face. “Happy New Year, Seonghwa,” he replied, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his husband’s beauty. By his kindness of including him in his celebration tonight. And then, Hongjoong couldn’t help himself… It was Seollal, after all. And Seonghwa was so cute.

He leaned in and kissed his husband on the cheek. And maybe he lingered a bit. No one could see them out here, in the dark stillness of the night.

Seonghwa froze and made an audible little gasp that made Hongjoong want to do it again, but he restrained himself. Seonghwa couldn’t run away this time because of Hongjoong’s grip on his hand. But he didn’t seem like he wanted to.

In the dim lamplight, Hongjoong could tell that Seonghwa seemed perplexed, with several different emotions warring on his features. He seemed to eventually come to a resolution and, slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward and kissed Hongjoong’s cheek in return. His lips were soft and unexpectedly warm, the kiss just a timid caress. He smiled shyly at Hongjoong afterward, and Hongjoong felt his stomach flip-flopping unexpectedly.

He was shocked that Seonghwa had actually reciprocated. But perhaps he shouldn’t be– it was a New Year’s eve tradition, after all. Nothing that happened out here mattered in the big picture of things. Nothing that happened tonight would change his mind about what he had already resolved– although he had technically just broken that resolution. But it was a holiday, so it was okay. This was an exception. It wouldn’t be something that happened often. It was just what people did on New Year’s eve.

They stood together, wordless and clasping hands in the dark, until the headlights of the car appeared around a bend in the road, and San arrived to take them back to the manor.

Hongjoong dreamed again that night.

He had been watching the release of the lanterns with Seonghwa again. But this time, when all of the lights had disappeared, Hongjoong found himself surrounded by the Coven. Their deadly fangs glistened in the moonlight, and their hands extended into claws that dripped with blood.

They seized him and bound him to the center of an enormous paper lantern, which they proceeded to light on fire and sent him burning into the night sky. Fighting to escape the flames, Hongjoong managed to free himself and fell for what seemed like forever until his body finally slammed into the earth.

As he lay there, paralyzed, the Coven surrounded him again and began taking turns drinking from his broken body. The only thing he could do was scream.

Hongjoong woke to cool hands gripping the sides of his face, and a gentle voice shushing him over the fading sounds of his own ragged screams.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” the voice soothed him, chasing away the panic that surged through his body like an electric shock.

It was all Hongjoong could do to breathe through his own broken sobs. The voice– he recognized it as Seonghwa’s now– shushed him again, and his husband pulled him close, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Hongjoong’s muddled apologies were too choked to be intelligible as he struggled to speak.

“You’re here with me, you’re okay,” Seonghwa said, his voice still husky with sleep. He stroked Hongjoong’s hair and the sides of his face, wiping away the tears. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

As Hongjoong gradually got his breathing under control, he reached out to clasp Seonghwa’s hand in his own. Seonghwa was trembling. Hongjoong felt so awful for scaring him. It must have been so frightening, waking suddenly to someone screaming next to you.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Hongjoong finally managed to say, embarrassed at the grating sound of his own voice. “I can… I should go sleep in another room.”

Seonghwa clutched him more tightly. “No,” was all he said.

“I can go…” Hongjoong began again.

“No,” Seonghwa said with a finality that silenced Hongjoong. The vampire pulled one of their pillows onto his lap and shifted to help lay Hongjoong’s head on it. Hongjoong was too mortified to even look up at him. He buried his face into the pillow and lay there for a long while as Seonghwa continued to stroke his hair, assuring him that everything would be alright.

Chapter Text

Jongho showed Yeosang the reports from the investigation he and Wooyoung had conducted to locate their missing Hunter. The reports revealed that the last known whereabouts of Mingi was a street market in Sector 12, and shortly afterward the young Hunter had been spotted going underground.

They had found evidence of a gunfight in the abandoned subway tunnels near the border between Sector 12 and Sector 1. The Wolves controlled Sectors 1 through 3 of the City, while the rest was governed by regular humans, but the Wolves had recently been encroaching on Sector 12, so this didn’t bode well for the young Hunter.

“To be clear, finding Mingi as soon as possible is my priority,” Jongho told him, the look in his large brown eyes deadly serious. “The Commander may have gone no-contact, but she has all of the seniors with her. Mingi has no one. So we are going to get him back before we do anything else. If you don’t want to help me with that, you can leave.”

Yeosang shrugged and said, “Let’s do it.”

Jongho raised his eyebrows, seeming surprised at how quickly Yeosang had agreed. “Really?”

Ah, don’t reveal your hand until you complete the bluff, kid.

Jongho needed Yeosang’s help, but Yeosang didn’t necessarily need Jongho’s, although it would be nice. But the young Captain intrigued Yeosang, and also he was pretty cute, so Yeosang decided he would help him find his friend first. Doing something as dangerous as a rescue mission in the Wolves’ territory would be exciting– a break from the usual tedium of everyday life. But first, Yeosang needed more information.

He studied the reports again for a few minutes. An experienced Hunter, even a junior like Mingi should have been able to easily lose any pursuers by going underground. Yet he had disappeared. If someone had killed him, they probably would’ve just left the body to send a message, a warning, similar to what had happened with the Hunter Yijun a few years ago.

They wouldn’t have left a body, though, if Mingi had been set up for a kidnapping, instead. They would have been waiting for him. The thought was disconcerting. Why this junior Hunter specifically? Why not go for the Captain and let the rest fall like a house of cards? There was only one thing that made sense, and it was something that Jongho wasn’t telling him.

Yeosang studied the boy’s face, his body language. Nearly everything about him exuded confidence, self-control, but… he was perspiring. Ever so slightly. His pulse was slightly elevated. He was nervous.

“If I am going to help you find your Hunter,” Yeosang said slowly, deliberately, “You are going to have to tell me why someone would want to kidnap Mingi. Why they would want to take him alive instead of simply killing him.”

Jongho seemed to be weighing something in his mind. The muscles in his jaw tensed as he seemed to struggle with a decision internally.

Yeosang didn’t want to reveal to him what Yunho already had, just after the wedding— that he suspected the young Hunter Mingi was a Wolf, an Omega, in spite of his contrasting appearance. Yeosang wouldn’t have believed it, but Yunho was the expert, after all. He had picked up a very faint Omega scent when he’d walked past the man. The near-absence of a definitive scent indicated that the young Hunter was probably using some kind of pheromone suppressant, but it was either wearing off, or his pheromones were so strong that they were leaking through. Yeosang wanted to see if Jongho would trust him enough, or if he was desperate enough, to reveal the truth on his own.

“Is there any other reason they’d want him alive, besides him being a Hunter that perhaps they could ransom back or interrogate for information?” Yeosang pressed. “I can’t help you unless I know everything, Captain.”

Jongho seemed to arrive at a decision, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he spoke. “Mingi is… he’s an Omega. He would be… highly sought after by certain… unsavory types within the Wolves, if someone were to get a hold of this information.”

Yeosang nodded. This was good. Jongho knew when to cut his losses and ask for help. Maybe he could be a skilled leader after all, given time.

“Now that,” Yeosang said, “Gives me some ideas of where we can start. But first, on a scale of one to ten, ten being highest, how desperate are you to get your friend back?”

Jongho thought for a moment, then answered, “Twelve.”

Yeosang grinned. “Okay, then. Tonight we’ll head to Sector 2 to scout things out. But you’re going to need to wear a lot less knives. And maybe change out of all that leather. Try to look more normal. We’ll want to blend in.”

“Blend in?” Jongho gestured incredulously at Yeosang. “You don’t blend in at all.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Yeosang said, unzipping his bag and pulling out a couple of things. He donned an ancient baseball cap and tinted glasses, then gave Jongho a thumbs up.

Jongho gaped at him for a moment, then shook his head and excused himself to go change out of his gear in one of the bedrooms.

Yeosang almost shit a brick when he caught sight of a couple of faded posters for Linkin Park and BTS on the wall of the open bedroom door. How the hell had the Hunters gotten their hands on those? Were they replicas? Had they found a bunker somewhere too? It would make sense, given some of the random tech the Hunters seemed to have access to. Perhaps he could investigate this later when things had calmed down a bit.

Yeosang wondered what the young Captain would consider to be normal clothes, if he even had the vaguest idea, or if he always dressed like that. “Perhaps some jeans, and maybe a nice flannel,” Yeosang called after him, trying to be helpful.

“I’ll wear whatever I want!” Jongho called back before slamming the bedroom door shut.

Yeosang took another swig of his coffee, feeling like he was about to have another existential crisis over the damn posters. It would be his second one today. His body felt as young and energetic as ever, but sometimes, if he allowed himself to really sit with it, he could feel how ancient he was in his bones. When this happened, he usually hit up the gym to help himself feel better. But he was too busy for that right now.

“Helloooo?” Jongho’s voice snapped him out of it. “You ready to go, or just going to sit there?”

The Hunter was wearing a pair of well-tailored jeans, some slightly less intimidating boots than he’d had on before, and a brown leather jacket. An unassuming blue flannel shirt peeked out from beneath it. Yeosang smiled.

“Okay, good,” he declared, smacking the table with his palms and standing. “Let’s get this bread.”

“What the fuck,” Jongho muttered under his breath.

“I can hear you,” Yeosang remarked, sighing with endless patience as he slung his pack over his shoulder. Sometimes he missed the casual throat-ripping days of his youth.

“I don’t care. Try moving faster and I might like you more.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes. Tonight would be very interesting indeed. Now he needed to figure out what they were actually going to do.

Yeosang and the Captain stood in the shadows outside the warehouse, watching people disappear into the defunct trainyard that lay beyond them. They were deep within the Wolves’ territory now. The people gathering here were attending the illegal cage matches located in a secret arena beneath the abandoned tracks here in Sector 2. The Wolves’ leader, affectionately referred to as their Den Mother, usually turned a blind eye to such dealings, as long as they didn’t cause too much scandal aboveboard.

“How are we going to get in?” Jongho asked. It had taken them the better part of the night, after many visits to various shady bars in the neighborhood, to pinpoint the location of the fights.

“Now that we know where to go, we are going to get false identities from some friends of mine. We’ll be travelers from up north or something, trying to make some fast cash as fresh arrivals in the big City,” Yeosang told him. Jongho nodded, appearing skeptical, but Yeosang knew he wouldn’t say no. Desperation level 12.

“We should head back to your apartment soon, before these fake Beta pheromones wear off and give us away,” Yeosang said, glancing at the moon’s position in the night sky. “And before the sun fries my ass. I didn’t make it 400 years just to get vaporized because I spent too much of the night out with a baby Hunter.”

“What about the false identities?” Jongho asked, shifting his weight impatiently back and forth between each foot. “Can we still get those tonight? There’s probably a couple of hours left before sunrise.”

Yeosang paused to look the Captain up and down, admiring the way his jeans hugged his thick, heavily muscled thighs. He really needed to ask who had tailored them— they were absolute perfection. “No offense,” Yeosang told him, “But I’m not risking my skin staying out any longer for you, boy, no matter how fire your ass looks in those jeans.”

Jongho scowled and shook his head, looking supremely annoyed. Yeosang thought that the Captain looked pretty hot when he was pissed off, so he took a puff from his reconstructed vape pen, and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke in Jongho’s direction. Yeosang had taken up smoking many decades ago as an unhealthy method of dealing with stress, but he had quit and restarted off and on again over the years. He was already dead, anyway, so what did it matter? Everything he did to his body healed itself within a few hours at most. He’d even learned to make his own vape juice to refill the cartridges.

“Are you fucking kidding me with that?” Jongho said, smothering a cough with his hand. He waved his hand in front of them in an attempt to clear the smoke. Yeosang blew another puff into his face.

Jongho fixed him with a wide-eyed murderous stare. He stepped into Yeosang’s personal space and leaned very close to Yeosang’s face. Yeosang locked eyes with him as the Captain spoke softly, in a tone that probably would have terrified anyone else, “Try that again, and I’ll fucking strangle you.”

Yeosang had no doubt that the Hunter meant it. He smiled and said, “Yeah, you’ll do just fine.”

“What are you talking about?” Jongho growled.

“Oh, baby bear, you’re going to be a contender tomorrow night.”

Yeosang glimpsed Jongho glaring at him from the bench behind him as Yeosang inspected his hair in the locker room mirror. They were posing as an amateur boxer and his manager trying to find a better life in the City. Yeosang had temporarily dyed his red hair black and pulled it into a messy topknot. He wore a black mask that covered the lower half of his face, along with a matching black hat and outfit that fit their theme of the demon handler and his pet demon. It was just the way of things here to be a bit extra with the costumes, so Yeosang had embraced it. He fucking loved having an excuse to dress in a way that brought attention to himself, without having to worry about blowing his cover.

They’d smothered themselves in Beta pheromones again, an unfortunate but necessarily evil, and Yeosang had packed extra for later tonight. The smell was atrocious to Yeosang, a far cry from his usual decadent perfumes and more akin to stinky wet puppy, but Jongho said he could barely smell it at all. Good for him, Yeosang supposed.

Jongho sat shirtless in black shorts that revealed the lower half of his muscular thighs. He had two new bright red streaks in his spiked-up hair, also temporarily dyed black, that mimicked devil horns. Yeosang had explained to him that he needed to be unforgettable tonight to get the right people’s attention, and that he of course would also need to win the match.

“I still don’t understand why you’re not the one fighting,” Jongho grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to cover himself. “This whole thing was your idea.”

“My dear Captain, have you seen me?” Yeosang gestured down at his lithe, muscular body, which was only accentuated by the tight black leather of his costume. Jongho shook his head in exasperation. “I’m not built for this shit,” Yeosang clarified. “This body was made for dodging punches, slicing with swords, and shooting from afar, not being thrown around and torn in half in a cage. No fucking way am I doing that, thanks.”

“Sure. And yet you expect me to do that,” Jongho complained. “What if I get my arm ripped off or something?”

“You said you were at a twelve out of ten.” Yeosang reminded him. “And besides, it will be fun to see what you’re made of. I thought Hunters were supposed to be tough.” Jongho glared at him. Yeosang smiled and took a brush out of the can of body paint he’d brought, and motioned for Jongho to stand. He did, grudgingly. Ah, desperation was a powerful motivator.

“Now stand still,” Yeosang directed him, “This might tickle.” Jongho grimaced, but didn’t move as Yeosang began to brush patterns of red and black body paint over his entire torso. The boy was well-muscled, and Yeosang thought perhaps he might stand a chance in the cage with his Hunter training, though no weapons were allowed in these matches. There really were no other rules to these cage matches other than you win once your opponent surrenders or is knocked unconscious, KO’ed. Anything else goes.

“All you have to do is go in, act a little crazy, rev up the crowd, then beat up some guy,” Yeosang reiterated the plan as he dipped his fingers into the paint and smeared some streaks across Jongho’s youthful cheeks, obscuring the lovely little blush that had crept onto them. “Then we get invited to the winners’ afterparty, we drink, we schmooze, we gather intel. Easy peasy.” He stepped back to admire his work. “Okay, Kal Gom the demon bear is ready to kick some ass.”

Jongho looked at himself in the mirror and sighed in resignation. He raised his fists and made a couple of experimental jabs. His form was pretty good. He would be alright. Yeosang thought he had done a pretty good job of transforming the young Captain into a demon bear cage fighter. It really hadn’t been all that difficult.

He adjusted his mask and hat, then motioned for Jongho to follow him out to the ring.

Jongho had truly fought like a demon bear in the cage tonight. Yeosang dabbed an alcohol soaked rag onto the cut over the boy’s bruised eye, and the young Captain winced, but he didn’t make a sound.

Jongho’s opponent tonight had been an enormous, heavily scarred Wolf, probably an Alpha. But the young Hunter had outlasted him, taking every hit in stride, until he had eventually worn him down and knocked him out with a powerful undercut to the chin.

“You fought well tonight,” Yeosang told him. Jongho grunted unintelligibly in response. “We’ve been invited to the victors’ afterparty in the club downtown,” Yeosang said with a smug smile, “So we’ll head over there after I finish fixing you up.”

Jongho clutched his bruised ribs and stared straight ahead as Yeosang finished bandaging the cut on his face. Yeosang was no medic, but he’d had some unfortunate experiences over the years that had led to his learning some basic first aid and wound dressing.

“You did an amazing job exploiting that giant’s weaknesses,” Yeosang continued, dabbing the blood oozing from another cut on Jongho’s lower lip. It had almost stopped bleeding, but he wouldn’t be able to talk or smile much without breaking it back open. Luckily, he did both of those things fairly minimally.

“I’ve trained with Mingi for years, so…” Jongho didn’t finish his explanation. The corners of his mouth pulled into a worried little frown, and Yeosang couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him as he thought of his brother’s plight. That was what all of this had been for, after all.

“I was lowkey a little worried when that guy came out,” Yeosang admitted. “But you pulled through like a real champ.” Jongho glared at him, and Yeosang chuckled.

When Yeosang had finished playing amateur medic with Jongho’s wounds, the boy grabbed a rag and began to scrub the remaining body paint off his arms and chest. When most of it was gone, he held out the cloth to Yeosang and gestured wordlessly for Yeosang to finish cleaning off his back. Yeosang huffed out a little laugh at the Hunter’s audacity as Jongho shook the rag impatiently at him. He wouldn’t generally take orders from anyone, especially a Hunter, but Yeosang thought perhaps the boy had earned it for being such a good sport tonight.

He took the rag and dipped it into the bucket of soapy water next to them and wrung it out, then stood behind Jongho and began to wipe him clean. Jongho sat still, but his entire back was slightly tense as Yeosang swept the cloth repeatedly across the boy’s sun-bronzed skin, removing the paint from the places he hadn’t been able to reach, uncovering the little scars and imperfections that had been hidden beneath the paint.

Yeosang sighed softly to himself. He had always been on the paler side, but being Made into a vampire had made him appear even more like a lifeless porcelain doll. Jongho, on the other hand, looked so intensely… alive. Yeosang missed being able to get little imperfections on his skin that made him unique, and, of course, being in the sun. He couldn’t even get a tattoo if he wanted to. His body healed so fast that it would disappear within hours. He knew this, because he had tried to get one multiple times. The only unique part of him that hadn’t gone away when he’d been Made was the birthmark on the left side of his temple, which he usually covered up with makeup when he went out so he couldn’t be easily identified. He missed the simple ease of being able to go out, bare-faced, into the sun whenever he wanted. He wished he had spent more time doing so, before he’d become a vampire. But now wasn’t the time to mourn his lost humanity.

He finished wiping off the rest of the paint, then patted Jongho’s shoulder, saying simply, “All done.”

Jongho muttered a quick thanks and put his clothes back on— just a normal set of street clothes again, none of that ridiculous Hunter getup.

“I feel so exposed without any of my weapons,” Jongho complained.

“Doesn’t seem like you needed them tonight, my sweet demon bear,” Yeosang said, clapping him on the shoulder. “At least people at the winners’ club tonight will think twice about trying anything with you.”

Yeosang grabbed the small sack full of currency he had won betting on Jongho and stuffed it into his pack. “Drinks are on me tonight,” he told the Captain, “But don’t get too sloshed, we still need to gather info. Use that winning personality of yours to get people to open up and all.”

“I just want enough to dull the pain in my face a little,” Jongho said, wincing and clutching his ribs. “Okay, maybe the pain in my entire body. This better have been worth it.”

Yeosang grinned. “Oh, it already has been.”

The afterparty had proven to be quite the goldmine of information. After having a few drinks and talking to many Wolves, they had pieced together a few crucial details.

There were rumors of an exceptional Omega that had become quite the object of contention in the Sector 1 underground at the moment. Apparently, he was so highly sought after, that there were debates over whether he should go to auction for a singular bidder, or be sent straight to an unauthorized breeding farm so he could be used to produce as many offspring with as many Alphas as possible.

There had been VIP viewings of him this week for the singular buyers, but some thought this Omega would be a difficult sell because he required a full 24/7 security team to keep him under control. There was to be an auction this weekend, open to VIPs only. If anyone managed to exceed the private offer that was likely to be made by the breeding farm, the Omega would be transferred to them right away.

Jongho had excused himself to go be sick in the back alley after they had learned the information, and Yeosang suspected it hadn’t just been the abundance of alcohol that had left the Captain reeling. The illegal Omega trafficking within the Wolves’ underground had always existed, to some extent, but it had definitely experienced a resurgence lately. In recent years, the appointed leadership of the Wolves had worked together with the Hunters to crack down on the perpetrators, but lately, a new group had shown up and revitalized the vile practice.

Yeosang had already suspected the shadow faction of Wolves to be responsible, of course, but this new information pretty much cemented the fact that not only were they well-organized, they were also growing in both power and in their boldness defying the Treaties. They were bad news all around, and they were going to have to be dealt with, whether the Den Mother agreed to help or not. Technically, she was obligated to, per the Treaties, but she had proven less than helpful thus far.

Yeosang and Jongho had obtained the time and the location for the Omega auction, and now they only needed to figure out how to pull off a rescue in a Sector swarming with Wolves who had absolutely no regard for the Treaties. Jongho had mentioned the possibility of Wooyoung getting Hongjoong to join them, but Yeosang knew that was unlikely to happen. He didn’t say so, of course. He would let Jongho send Wooyoung back to the manor without complaint, trusting that San and the other familiars would deal with him accordingly.

“You’re certain the description of this rare Omega sounded like your Mingi?” Yeosang asked the Captain. They had returned to the Hunter safehouse in Center City an hour before dawn, and were laying on adjacent sofas in the living room, having partially slept off the effects of all the alcohol they had consumed. It was sometime after sunrise now, and Jongho had made sure all the windows were fully covered for Yeosang’s sake.

Yeosang’s accelerated healing made it much more difficult, but not impossible, for him to get drunk, so he had consumed an extreme amount, and his body wasn’t exactly happy with him. He was certain that if he were human, he would be dead from this much consumption, but fortunately or unfortunately enough, he was a walking corpse. Any lingering effects would dissipate within the next hour or two.

Jongho looked like shit, the poor kid. His facial bruises were much more apparent now. The resilient Captain had made them a large batch of coffee this morning to try to help with their hangovers. He drained his entire cup in one go and poured another, then said, “I’ve never been more sure about anything. It’s definitely Mingi.”

“Then you’d better be ready to fuck up an auction with me this weekend.”

Jongho nodded solemnly. There were dark circles forming beneath his eyes that had nothing to do with the bruises he had received.

Yeosang sipped his brew slowly as he contemplated their next move.

He needed to reestablish contact with Yunho.

Chapter Text

Mingi woke up strapped to the gurney again. His head ached, his shoulders felt like they had gone through a meat grinder, and his forearms felt like he had been stabbed by one thousand pieces of broken glass.

Then he remembered that he had, in fact, been stabbed by pieces of broken glass– the glass he had shattered when the auction buyers had been looking at him. When Jeong had been taunting him. He struggled to lift his head, and was able to spot a few large bloody shards poking out of his arms.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” Jeong’s voice said from somewhere nearby. Mingi groaned. He was never going to get away from this asshole.

Jeong loomed over him, his head partially shielding Mingi from the harsh electric light above them. “You know, you were quite in demand with many of the Alphas before today’s pre-auction viewing. Now you’ve got a nickname, the ‘NO-mega’, because nobody wants to deal with your psycho ass.”

Mingi let out a bitter chuckle and said simply, “Good.” Talking hurt so much. Everything hurt.

“I’m the only one willing to go in here to deal with you,” Jeong continued, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Your body count is what now, twelve I think? Some of the people you’ve injured along the way didn’t quite manage to make it.”

“You’re next,” Mingi said, his voice nearly breaking, still raspy from his screaming earlier. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I assure you, I’d rather be doing that than be in here dealing with you,” the Alpha said, still with that infuriating smile. He wheeled a small tray table over. It was laden with a spread of intimidating medical tools.

Mingi stiffened. Was this the part where he started pulling teeth as a form of torture? Or worse? Maybe if they couldn’t sell him alive, they had decided to harvest his organs instead. Mingi strained against his bonds, but the restraints pushed into his ravaged shoulders so roughly that he let out an involuntary whimper and ceased almost immediately.

Jeong frowned and loosened one of the straps restraining Mingi’s forearm, keeping the one on his wrist fastened. He released the strap on Mingi’s upper arm as well, then he took one of the tools from the table.

Mingi strained to see what the Alpha was doing. Jeong gripped his wrist tightly in one hand, and carefully began to pull out one of the larger pieces of glass lodged in Mingi’s forearm. Mingi gritted his teeth to hold back the scream he wanted to let out. What came out instead was a small, anguished whine.

Jeong scowled as he dropped the bloody shard onto the tray. Mingi flinched and whined again as the Alpha hovered his instrument over the next piece of glass. The Alpha shushed him and released his hold on Mingi’s wrist, reaching out towards Mingi’s head. Mingi shrunk back as far as he could, fearful of being slapped again. Instead, Jeong stroked Mingi’s hair reassuringly, and his scent filled Mingi’s nostrils.

Oh, how Mingi hated it.

He detested the way he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a wounded little whimper. How he found himself leaning desperately into the Alpha’s touch. How he actually found it soothing. This from the man who had just backhanded him before pushing him into a room to auction him off.

Being here for so long must have made Mingi lose his goddamn mind. He knew realistically that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, possibly a couple of weeks, that he had been here, since his heat hadn’t actually started yet. But it was dangerously close. He could feel it creeping up on him, ready to crush whatever willpower he had left to resist this infuriating Alpha.

“My family… they’ll come for me,” he rasped, letting out a pained groan as Jeong pulled out another shard. He whimpered as the Alpha soothed him once again by caressing his fingers through Mingi’s hair.

For the remaining extractions, Jeong kept one hand tangled in Mingi’s hair while using the other to carefully remove the glass, comforting Mingi whenever he whimpered or cried out. After an impossibly long time had passed, the Alpha released his hold on Mingi and said quietly, “You’ve been very brave, Mingi. Well done.”

Mingi felt a thrill go through his body at the praise from the Alpha, and he hated himself for it. He wanted to be sick. He closed his eyes and choked back a sob. He just wanted to go home.

“None of that now,” Jeong said, wiping a tear off Mingi’s cheek. Mingi turned his face away in shame.

“You heal fairly fast, especially for an Omega,” Jeong observed, tracing his fingers lightly across Mingi’s bruised jaw. Mingi ignored him. Tried to pretend that the Alpha’s scent wasn’t driving him insane. Making his mouth water. He tried to pretend that he couldn’t feel the slick beginning to leak out of him again, all because of a simple caress. He desperately hoped that the Alpha wouldn’t be able to tell, but he knew deep down that Jeong would be able to smell it on him.

Being trapped in a room with an Alpha like Jeong made Mingi feel like all of the things he had been trying to hide or deny about himself his entire life were being laid bare. He felt completely exposed, body and soul. And he hated it. Jeong knew what he was, and had forced him to display it, by denying him the heat suppressants that had helped keep all of his deep-seated Omega instincts and pheromones muted. Still, Mingi wouldn’t ever give in to Jeong, no matter how much his body longed to betray him.

Jeong began meticulously cleaning the wounds in Mingi’s arms with some sort of alcohol, and Mingi bit his lip and clamped his eyes shut so he wouldn’t cry. It stung like hell. The Alpha skillfully wrapped both of Mingi’s arms from forearms up to shoulders in bandages, then fastened them thoroughly.

Mingi felt his lower lip trembling as he watched Jeong begin to refasten the bindings that held him trapped to the gurney. “Please…” his voice sounded so weak in his own ears, nearly a whisper. “Please, Alpha, let me go,” he begged.

He might have sworn he saw a flicker of pity in the Alpha’s green eyes, but he blinked and it was gone, merely a figment of his imagination. Jeong held a straw to his mouth and told him, “Drink. All of it.”

And Mingi did.

Mingi fell asleep shortly after Jeong left him, and woke again to voices outside the door to his prison. “We try again this evening,” said a low, unfamiliar feminine voice. “I want him in a control collar this time. Tame the brat for me, Jeong. I’ve got plenty else to worry about right now.”

“I will do my best, but he is… spirited. It may take some time,” Jeong’s voice answered.

“Just make sure the buyers aren’t scared away again,” the female replied.

“If they’re afraid of him, then maybe they shouldn’t be considering him as their Omega. They should go find one they can actually handle.”

The female chuckled. “Why aren’t you bidding on him then? I’d allow it, if you wanted.”

A laugh, then, “You know I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Ah, well. I’ll make you a deal. If nobody wants him after today, then he’s yours.”

Mingi’s stomach twisted with dread.

“...Fair enough,” Jeong responded. “Though I don’t know if he’s worth the trouble.”

“It’s that, or he’s going to the breeding camp. I’ll make a gift of him if I have to, though I won’t tell them that yet. They’ve already discussed making a bid of their own, and I must say, their offer will be a tough one to beat. But they may withdraw if they don’t think he’s worth the trouble.”

“I’ll see what interest we can gather tonight, then.”

“I’m sure there will still be plenty. Many of the VIPs are convinced they can use him to breed some kind of super Alpha, and they may be correct. If that turns out to be the case, we may have to requisition him to a breeding farm anyway. This could be too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Or he could just be some kind of genetic accident. They can’t know that he’d produce a so-called super Alpha. It’s wishful thinking at best.”

“In any case, it’s probably not a bad idea to introduce more of his genes into the pool. We’re breeding with the Humans too much as it is. There are fewer Alphas and even fewer Omegas being born every year.”

“A problem, to be certain. I suppose we will find out soon enough if he can be part of the solution.”

“And what of the vampires, are they still searching for–”

Here a door clanged loudly, and drowned out what the female was saying.

Mingi caught Jeong’s voice responding, “...Coven still believes I am working for them, so I will continue to keep close watch on their movements.”

“Excellent work, Jeong. Keep it up.”

“Always, my Lady Serana. I will see you this evening.”

The door to Mingi’s prison swung open, and he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. His heart pounded rapidly as the Alpha approached him. So Jeong was an undercover agent for the Wolves, pretending to work for the vampires? How did that even work? And why hadn’t Mingi been able to smell him at the wedding? An Alpha like him would have immediately stood out to Mingi, even in a crowd. And how had Jeong looked so different then, as if he were one of the vampires? There was something incredibly strange and wrong about this man.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep,” the Alpha murmured. Mingi felt a brief brush of Jeong’s fingers through his hair, and he opened his eyes, scowling.

“You can stop touching me, then,” Mingi growled. Jeong smiled that infuriating smug smile of his, and Mingi closed his eyes and sighed.

“Sorry about this,” Jeong said, then Mingi’s head was being lifted, and just as he opened his eyes again, cold metal snapped closed around his neck. A control collar.

Mingi squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to panic. This couldn’t be happening again. Not again. Hongjoong would come for him. Jongho and Wooyoung would come. They wouldn’t let it happen to him again. They would be here soon. Very soon.

Strong hands on the sides of the face were shaking him, a voice was telling him to stop. He was screaming again. He was sobbing. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe.

He felt the restraints being loosened, and he was pulled off the gurney. He fell to his knees and strong arms wrapped around him, cradling his head against a solid chest that smelled like pure bliss.

A hand in his hair, stroking him as a voice shushed him, and Mingi concentrated everything he had on the Alpha’s scent. On breathing it in. Breathing out. Breathing it in again. Orange, mint, lavender– the light, herbal musk filled his nostrils, entered his lungs and bloomed in his chest.

Jeong held him tightly as they sat on the floor unmoving, and Mingi thought he heard a stifled sob again, but it must have been his own. He kept his head buried in the Alpha’s chest long after his tears had stopped.

Eventually, Jeong whispered, “Mingi...” The Alpha pushed him gently back by the shoulders so he could look at him. Mingi hung his head, unwilling to look up.

“Take it off,” Mingi pleaded softly.

“I can’t,” Jeong said. “Not yet.”

“Take. It. Off,” Mingi repeated, his voice breaking on the last word. He wanted to strangle Jeong. He wanted to snap his neck. But he couldn’t. Not when the Alpha was taking Mingi’s face in his hands, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs, surrounding him with his scent, warm and reassuring.

Mingi breathed in the smell of the Alpha, focusing on it. Met his bright green eyes and held his gaze. “Just make it through tonight,” Jeong told him.

“What if I can’t?”

“I’ll make sure you do.”

Jeong led Mingi back to the VIP viewing room. Before they entered, Jeong took Mingi’s face in his hands once more and said, “You’re going to go into heat within the next day or two. Whoever wins the auction tomorrow is immediately going to want to start breeding you.”

Mingi trembled and tried to pull his face away, but Jeong’s hold on him was firm. “Listen to me, Omega,” the Alpha snapped, and Mingi stiffened at his sudden change in tone. “They’re going to use you to spawn more Alphas until your body gives out. It could be years. Decades. They will take all of your children from you, then they will discard you when you are no longer useful. But maybe they will let you name some of the pups after your dead brothers.”

Mingi’s brain didn’t comprehend what Jeong had said at first. “My… what?” he whispered. Jeong dragged him into the dark room, positioned him in the circle once more.

He leaned forward and spoke softly in Mingi’s ear. “Your brothers staged a rescue attempt for you today, Mingi. None of them made it out alive.”

Mingi’s pulse seemed to roar in his ears as he processed what the Alpha had said, and he almost fainted right there. Jeong left Mingi standing alone in the room, hunched over and clutching his chest, trying to remember how to breathe. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. Jeong was lying to him.

But Jeong was a double agent for the Wolves, pretending to work with the vampires and by extension the Hunters. He could have received word of their plans…

No. Mingi’s brothers were incredibly smart and capable. They wouldn’t have tried to rescue him if they knew they couldn’t win the fight. They would have waited for a better opportunity. It made no sense. It couldn’t have happened like this. It had to be a lie.

But Mingi was panicking nonetheless.

The bright lights switched on above, lighting up both Mingi and the room full of viewers in front of him as it had before. The broken glass had been replaced, and Mingi’s blood had been mopped up as if it had never happened.

Mingi searched for Jeong in the crowd and found him, standing behind a group of potential buyers in suits, all wearing sinister metallic masks like cowards. The Alpha was so tall, Mingi could easily see his face looming over the tops of most of their heads.

Jeong made eye contact with Mingi and smirked wickedly. He raised his fingers in imitation of a gun and pulled the ‘trigger’, then held up his fingers counting one… two… three. Then made a slicing motion across his neck. Mocking the deaths of his three brothers.

Mingi stepped out of the circle, then fell to his knees as the control collar activated, sending a jolt of searing pain down his spine and radiating out through all his limbs. Jeong leveled a diabolical smile at him. Mingi gritted his teeth, pushing his perception of the pain into that faraway place in the back of his mind, and forced his body to stand up.

Jeong blew him a kiss.

Mingi saw red.

Several people on the other side of the glass began gasping and pointing at Mingi. The control collar continued to shock him, never letting up. He staggered slowly towards the glass, falling to his knees again only once, as the crowd watched him in fascinated horror.

Jeong crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in the back of the room, appearing quite satisfied with himself. Mingi was laser focused on only him. When he reached the glass, he began slamming himself into it again.

If what Jeong had said was true, then everything was lost. His brothers were dead. His Commander was missing. Nothing mattered anymore.

Mingi was losing control of his limbs. Every nerve in his body lit up like he was burning alive. He slammed himself into the glass face first, trying to get at Jeong. He tasted blood, and when he stepped away, there was a red streak on the glass where his nose and mouth had impacted.

A couple of people appeared to be screaming. More were running away, rushing for the exits on the other side of the glass. Mingi smiled a desperate bloody smile, and could feel it dripping down his teeth. Jeong’s eyes went wide, his mouth gaping open in fascination.

Mingi was vaguely aware of the door to the room opening and people rushing in as he slammed himself into the glass again. This time, his blood splattered across it. Blood and saliva dripped from his mouth and pooled onto the floor as he stood bent over, gathering his strength.

He was able to crash against the glass one more time before he was dragged backwards by multiple sets of hands. It barely registered to him that he was being zapped by multiple cattle prods and injected with tranquilizers before he went down hard.

Jeong ambled forward slowly, hands in pockets, from where he had been positioned in the back of the room. The Alpha knelt in front of Mingi and placed a large hand on the glass. The last thing Mingi saw was Jeong smiling smugly down at him, giving him a mocking wink.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong woke up feeling unusually relaxed and peaceful, his latest nightmare only a distant memory. His face was nestled against Seonghwa’s chest, and his husband’s soft knitted blanket was tucked snugly over his shoulders. Seonghwa’s arms were still wrapped around him, but at some point he had sunk down onto the pillows next to Hongjoong.

Hongjoong lay and listened to the steady rhythm of Seonghwa’s heartbeat for a few minutes, letting the feeling of the arms that cradled him serve as a comforting reminder that for now, he was okay. Seonghwa had been presented with so many openings, so many scenarios where he could have taken advantage of Hongjoong and harmed him, and yet, he had chosen to hold him instead.

Hongjoong had never felt anything like this before in his life. He had always been the one looking out for everyone else, even Yijun, when he had been home. He had been a good older brother, but a leader he was not. He had been so fun-loving and scatterbrained, not at all like his two blood brothers Hongjoong and Jongho. Well, Hongjoong had sort of inherited the scatterbrained part. But only when it came to organizing his possessions. Mostly.

Seonghwa stirred, then reached up and gently brushed the loose strands of golden hair out of Hongjoong’s eyes. “Are you awake?” he asked. His voice was low and thick with sleep.

Hongjoong groaned indistinctly into Seonghwa’s chest. The cool silk of his husband’s pajamas provided a comforting sensation as it pressed against his face. And Seonghwa smelled so nice, sweet and freshly floral.

“I see,” Seonghwa chuckled softly. He planted a shy kiss on top of Hongjoong’s head, and Hongjoong couldn’t even be mad about it. His resolution was falling apart because he had fallen once again for his husband’s charms.

He needed to pull himself together. But snuggling someone with such a calm aura was so nice. Hongjoong’s past experience with snuggling had mostly consisted of being dogpiled by Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho, usually when they were trying to get him to go to bed. If that failed, they usually would wear down Hongoong’s resolve by smothering him on the sofa until he went to bed, or until they all fell asleep in a chaotic pile of limbs. Hongjoong secretly thought that had been nice, too, but in a different sort of way. He enjoyed receiving attention from his brothers, even if their ways to show love were often aggressively physical.

“Do you want to come see my project before breakfast?” Seonghwa asked, stroking Hongjoong’s hair and smiling coyly. “Might help take your mind off of things.”

Hongjoong stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and nodded.

“Okay, then you’re going to need to put on some boots, and wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

It was early morning, just after sunrise, when Seonghwa led Hongjoong past the manor kitchens and down into a food storage cellar below the ground. There was a reinforced wooden door in the back of the cellar, which Seonghwa unlocked with a key. Behind the door stretched out a long, dimly lit tunnel. Seonghwa took Hongjoong’s hand and led him into it.

If Hongjoong had still been suspicious about Seonghwa’s intentions, the tunnel would have freaked him out. The walls were reinforced with stone, but the ceiling was still dirt, and only reached about a foot higher than the top of Hongjoong’s head.

“It’s okay, it’s not that long, I promise,” Seonghwa said, glancing back at him with a reassuring smile. Hongjoong nodded. His stupid heart rate was always giving everything away.

When they finally arrived at the exit, they ascended a set of stone steps. Hongjoong found himself standing in a large, high-ceilinged building, lit dimly by electric lamplight from high up on the walls. A branching main pathway down the center of the building was illuminated by what appeared to be small solar lamps in the ground. Hongjoong wondered how solar lamps would be able to operate in this windowless building.

Seonghwa dropped Hongjoong’s hand and opened a large electrical panel on the wall, revealing myriad buttons and levers. He pressed a couple of buttons and waited, glancing upward. A soft mechanical whirring sounded as something shifted in the ceiling high above them, and a growing beam of sunlight was cast onto the far end of the room.

Seonghwa pressed a few more buttons, eliciting more movement of the ceiling and wall panels. More beams of sunlight streamed in, targeting only specific portions of the room.

With the additional light, Hongjoong was able to observe that the entire building was filled with rows and rows of garden vegetables and fruits, all contained in their own labeled sections. A large cabinet and bench full of gardening tools and seed and other implements including a wheelbarrow sat next to the control panel Seonghwa had just used. Hongjoong realized they were in the weird outbuilding he had walked past a few times, thinking it was some sort of abandoned barn or converted greenhouse used for storage or something.

“I started constructing this greenhouse when I was eighteen,” Seonghwa explained, with a hint of pride in his voice. “I wanted to be able to feed the familiars and whoever else here needed it with fresh foods as often as possible. I can’t grow everything that we trade for at the farms up north, but I’ve been able to cultivate a lot of different crops here.”

Hongjoong was astounded. “So this is what you’ve been working on in the mornings, when you come back for breakfast with muddy boots?”

Seonghwa smiled and nodded. “Yes. The familiars help me a lot, and they open the panels fully for most crops during the day. But I try to come in and weed the crops, harvest them, and plant more as often as I can.”

“This is incredible, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong told him. He leaned back to gaze up at the moveable panels in the walls and ceiling. “How did you even build this?”

“I sketched up the idea a few years ago and brought it to Yeosang. He had a lot of resources from the past that we were able to dig through to figure out how we might be able to build it. So we took an entire year, learned how to wire everything, and put most of it together in the evenings when we could go out. It was a lot of trial and error. But we finally got it to meet my vision. This way, I can work in here as long as needed during the day, while keeping the sun on whatever I’m not currently working on.”

“So this is where a lot of our Saturday night dinner ingredients come from?” Hongjoong asked.

“Yes, most of it, aside from the meats and dairy.”

“Amazing. I’d love to help out in here sometime.”

“What do you think I told you to dress appropriately for?”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa spent the next hour harvesting strawberries along with weeding and planting a few vegetables, then they returned to their quarters for breakfast. San greeted them both happily and served their respective meals in the sitting room as usual.

Afterward, Hongjoong wrapped himself in a blanket and began perusing through some of the books he had obtained from the library. Seonghwa joined him on the other end of the sofa, and both began reading in companionable silence.

Hongjoong started with the book on symbols, skimming through the chapters and looking for something resembling his sketch of the strange door that he’d seen Huicheol sneaking into. After an unsuccessful search, he decided to switch to reading the book on the history of the Wolves. He stretched out his legs as he settled down to read it, half-consciously sliding one of his feet under Seonghwa’s leg. Seonghwa glanced up at him from his own book and their eyes met. He smiled at Hongjoong for a moment, then returned to his reading.

The book about the Wolves proved to be very interesting, describing a history that went back hundreds of years. It recounted ancient myths about Wolves who could shapeshift under the light of the full moon, and Hongjoong wondered how much truth there was to that. The Wolves he knew today certainly had never shown evidence of any such abilities. He suppressed a giggle at the thought of Mingi being able to shapeshift. Mingi probably would’ve constantly abused the ability just to prank his brothers, eventually driving Wooyoung to the point of stabbing him. It was probably for the best that modern Wolves couldn’t do anything like that. Hongjoong couldn’t even begin to imagine the level of chaos the existence of shapeshifters would bring to their already turbulent society.

He skipped to a later chapter about Alpha and Omega mating rituals, and began reading until his face became so heated that he slammed the book shut. The concept of Alphas and Omegas knotting and creating mating bonds wasn’t exactly unfamiliar to him, but it was bringing back memories that he’d rather not relive– memories of when Mingi had run out of suppressants and gone into heat, and Hongjoong had been desperately trying to figure out how to help him. Seonghwa glanced up at Hongjoong furtively, smirking slightly like he knew what Hongjoong had been reading. Which wasn’t possible, but…

Hongjoong quickly grabbed the book on ancient languages and buried his face in it, ignoring Seonghwa. His husband shifted his legs slightly, sliding one under Hongjoong’s to mirror how Hongjoong was laying with him. Hongjoong rather liked the feeling of their legs being entwined together, but he pretended not to notice or care as he flipped through the latest book.

San returned to their quarters a while later, and Hongjoong thought perhaps it was almost lunchtime, but a glance at the clock said it was still a bit too early for that. Instead, San approached Seonghwa and said quietly, “Master, the stray cat is back.”

Seonghwa didn’t even look up from his book as he replied, “Either collar it, or take it back to the City so it doesn’t get hurt.”

“What cat?” Hongjoong asked, thinking that they were acting a little strange. Why would Seonghwa care about a stray cat? “I want to see it,” Hongjoong demanded. Perhaps rescuing a new pet would liven the place up. “Where is it? In the back gardens?”

“I’m not sure at the moment, Master Hongjoong,” San answered, furrowing his brow. “I just happened to see it around earlier. If I ever manage to catch it again, you can be sure I’ll deal with it appropriately.”

“Don’t hurt it,” Hongjoong said, then quickly added, “Not that I think you would do something like that, San.”

“I can assure you I won’t hurt it any more than what it takes to safely… rehome it,” San said. He pulled a rolled up piece of paper from his front shirt pocket and handed it to Seonghwa, before bowing and retreating from the room.

Hongjoong glanced at Seonghwa, perplexed by the entire interaction. “That was a little weird, don’t you think?”

Seonghwa shrugged, scrunching his face up into a cute, oblivious smile.

“Do you like cats, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked him.

“Not particularly.” He unrolled the paper San had given him and glanced at it for a moment, then frowned slightly.

“What’s that?” Hongjoong asked, straining his neck curiously. Seonghwa stuffed the paper into his pocket.

“Master Yeosang is… staying in the City for a couple more days,” Seonghwa responded. He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples as if he were annoyed and stifling the need to complain about it.

“And that’s… bad?” Hongjoong asked, confused at Seonghwa’s reaction to the news.

Seonghwa pressed his lips together tightly in irritation, before replying, “I just thought he’d be back sooner, that’s all.”

Hongjoong shook his head in frustration and changed the subject. “So, uh, do you want to go on another outing to the city in a day or two, since our new outfits are finished now?”

Seonghwa looked up from his book, and appeared to think about it for a few seconds. “Let’s go this weekend, after Saturday night dinner,” he suggested.

“I’d rather go sooner than that,” Hongjoong persisted. “C’mon, I know you enjoyed the arcade.”

Seonghwa smiled shyly down into his book. “I did. However, I have duties that need attending to this week, so it won’t be possible until then.”

“What kind of duties?”

“Boring administrative things. Things I need to learn how to do as the new Sire of this Coven.”

Hongjoong huffed and shut his book. Seonghwa always kept so much to himself. He needed to learn to be more open about his life.

“I’m not your little princess husband that’s just going to sit around here and look pretty, you know,” Hongjoong said, letting his annoyance creep into his voice. Seonghwa stared at him, as if frozen by Hongjoong’s outburst. Hongjoong sighed, trying to rein in his temper and be diplomatic. “I used to coordinate intelligence, scouting missions, and hunts for the junior Hunters. Maybe there’s something I could help you with.”

Seonghwa watched Hongjoong carefully for a moment, before saying, “Not this time, husband, but I will try to involve you in any future matters, I promise.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes and stood up, setting his book back onto the pile. “I’m going to spar with San,” he mumbled. He needed to channel some of his rising anger before he took it out on Seonghwa and fucked up the fragile camaraderie they’d been building over the last few days. Perhaps San would be more forthcoming with him.

Seonghwa nodded, and returned to reading his book as Hongjoong stalked out of the room.

Hongjoong and San sat side by side on the mats of the sparring room, each catching their breaths after another productive session. They had practiced throwing knives at the practice dummies before Hongjoong had shared with San a few hand-to-hand and disarming techniques, and San had taught him a powerful spinning kick.

Hongjoong was definitely going to have a few bruises after this one. San was most certainly stronger than him, but Hongjoong was still faster. He felt that he could nearly give as good as he got with San, even though sparring wasn’t particularly Hongjoong’s strong suit. It was good to practice, to strengthen the weaker areas of his skillset.

Hongjoong’s true strength lay in marksmanship, but the Coven seemed not to have any guns or any kind of range where he could practice, in spite of their abundance of many other types of weapons. Hongjoong thought that perhaps he could eventually construct a firing range, similar to how Seonghwa had constructed the greenhouse, and could use his own guns and ammunition to practice. He would eventually have to retrieve more from the Hunters stockpiles if he were to do so, though. Or scout out a supply line of his own. Perhaps San could help him with that, since he went to the City often to trade for goods.

Hongjoong turned to the familiar and asked one of his most burning questions: “Tell me, San, how does a guy like you end up working here, as a familiar for a Coven of vampires?”

San smiled, not seeming surprised at the question.

“Well,” he began, crossing his legs and drawing them in to sit more comfortably, “I was born in the City, and I lived there with my parents when I was small, until my dad died. He had a really dangerous job, making supply runs between the City and smaller settlements beyond the radiation zones.”

“Oh, shit,” Hongjoong said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it was tough for a while after that,” San lamented, “But we had some kind friends in the City who helped us out– they helped us survive the next couple of years, really. Then my mother got a job working for Seonghwa’s mother, when I was around nine years old. So we moved away from the City, and I basically grew up at the Coven’s lake house in the mountains, where Seonghwa’s mom lived year round.”

“Was Seonghwa there too?” Hongjoong asked.

San nodded. “After my first summer there, Seonghwa started to spend more time at the manor here, with tutors and trainers preparing him to be the Coven’s next leader whenever his father decided to retire.”

“Did he still get to spend time with his mom?”

“Yes, just less than he had before he’d reached school-age,” San replied. “He would spend the entire summer and all of midwinter with his mother and us at the mountain home every year. We became playmates, and as I got older we became good friends, and so did our mothers.”

Hongjoong tried not to seem too eager as he asked, “What was it like living there and working for them?”

“Seonghwa and his mother treated us very well,” San answered, smiling fondly. “I started accompanying Seonghwa back to the manor during the rest of the year when I was sixteen. That was when I decided to work for him full time as his familiar and bodyguard.”

“How old are you now, San?” Hongjoong felt a little bad that he had never asked until now. He had just assumed that San was close to his age or a bit younger than him and Seonghwa.

“I’m twenty-two.”

So San was the same age as Wooyoung and Mingi.

“I didn’t realize you’d been with Seonghwa for so long,” Hongjoong remarked, engrossed by how open San was being with him. “It makes sense why you two are so close now, and why you’re so loyal to him. But…” Hongjoong had to ask, “Do you even like the work you do here, day to day? It seems like it could get really boring for someone like you, given the skills you have.”

“Honestly, it’s not much like work to me at all. And it’s sort of just for appearances,” San admitted. “I have a relatively easy life. I don’t need all that fancy shit the Coven members have, even though Seonghwa has offered it to me many times. I’m content to just bring him meals, clean up a bit, and patrol the halls and outdoors for security threats. I have my own room, access to books, and all the food I need. I have nothing to complain about.”

Hongjoong felt like his next question might get shut down, but he asked, “Do you think that you’re truly happy here?”

San was silent for a long moment before responding, “I’ve thought about it a lot. Things could be much worse for me. I could need to work a dangerous job like my dad had to just to survive. So I think that… overall, I’m happy here. ” He leaned towards Hongjoong and whispered conspiratorially, “Though I’m kind of glad you came along to liven up the place. I like spending time with you.”

Hongjoong chuckled and said, “Me? I just wander around using up the Coven’s resources and giving Seonghwa anxiety, it seems like.”

San threw his head back and laughed loudly. Hongjoong had never heard the man laugh like that before. It was full and deep and genuine, and it made Hongjoong smile.

“You’ve definitely caused him a lot of anxiety, that’s true,” San confirmed, “But… I think having you here, having the opportunity to get to know you, has helped him tear down his walls a bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, Seonghwa, for as long as I’ve known him, has never gone down to the City for a fun night out, much less for a date.”

Hongjoong grinned. “Yeah, I think he really liked that.” He didn’t try to correct San and say it wasn’t a date, because what did it matter, if it had been? Hongjoong had every right to go on a date with his husband if he wanted to.

“And there’s also the fact that he’s started up Saturday night dinners again,” San added, smiling wistfully. “And he planned that Seollal picnic for you two… it’s like he’s interested in really living again. I even caught him writing poetry the other day. I haven’t seen him like this… in a long time.”

“Oh…” Hongjoong murmured. He’d been mostly unaware of his influence on his husband, since he didn’t have any reference for what Seonghwa was normally like. It was gratifying, and frankly shocking, to learn that he seemed to have been making an overall positive impact on his husband’s life since he’d moved into the manor. It made him feel even worse about how things had started out between them. San reached out and patted his leg reassuringly, and Hongjoong smiled in gratitude.

“Do your mothers still live there, at the house in the mountains?” Hongjoong asked, recalling Seonghwa’s detailed recreation of it in the basement. “Do you two still visit sometimes?” Visiting the lake home could actually prove to be a good opportunity to get a change of scenery and perhaps check in with the Hunters along the way.

San’s expression became uncharacteristically somber. “Um, no. They’re both… no longer with us. Seonghwa still owns the house… but… neither of us has been back since the funerals.”

Hongjoong felt a pang in his chest. “I’m so sorry, San. I didn’t know.” He felt like an idiot. He guessed he should have known, since there had been a conspicuous lack of human parental figures attending Seonghwa’s side at the wedding. But he had been too distraught to notice much of anything that day.

“It’s okay. It was… a few years ago.”

“So both of your mothers passed away around the same time?

“Yeah.”

“May I ask what happened? If it’s too much—“

“It’s not, it’s just… not my story to tell.” San seemed very introspective now. “If you want to know, maybe Seonghwa will tell you about it sometime. But, I’m going to be honest, I don’t think he’s ready yet.”

“It seems he’s been very deeply hurt by the deaths of both of his parents,” Hongjoong observed. He couldn’t imagine how that felt. He had never known his own father. The Hunter who had fathered Yijun, Hongjoong, and Jongho had died during a particularly dangerous Hunt when Hongjoong was very young, when Jongho was just a baby. Only Yijun had possessed any definitive memories of him, and now he was gone too.

“You have no idea,” San sighed, combing his fingers through his shiny black hair to pull a few escaped strands out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry for prying so much,” Hongjoong apologized. “I just want to understand both of you more.”

“No, it’s okay,” San clapped him on the back and smiled encouragingly. “It’s natural to want to know about the lives of people you care about, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

Did Hongjoong care about San and Seonghwa? He supposed he had become fond of both of them. It hadn’t been instantaneous, but they were becoming his friends. Hongjoong wanted them to like him, wanted them to be happy. Perhaps it was true now, that he cared about them.

Hongjoong thought that perhaps everyone could use a friend like San in their life. San was a refreshingly insightful person, not afraid to speak his mind. And Seonghwa was quietly thoughtful, kind, and sentimental. Also a bit of a hopeless romantic, which was rather endearing, if unexpected, for a vampire.

“I’ll tell you what I think,” San interrupted his thoughts. “You should go for a nice refreshing swim, then relax your sore muscles in the spa, since I beat you up pretty badly today.”

Hongjoong punched him lightheartedly on the bicep, and San flexed it like the handsome show-off he was.

Hongjoong laughed and said, “You know what, San, that sounds like a great idea.”