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ladyartemesia · 3 years

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Once Upon a Bracelet

Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Sorceress Reader (Featuring Platonic Jin x Reader Friendship)

Genre: Fantasy • Soulmates • Enemies to Lovers • Fairytale

Word Count: 12.5K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS PROHIBITED. I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY INTERACTIONS WITH PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Warnings: explicit sexual content • mentions of death • injury with a knife • passing mention of patricide • mentions of blood in relation to magic • literally none of this is graphic at all • I am just trying to be safe • loss of virginity • some hurt/comfort elements • social inequality and classism • pseudo-infidelity but not really •

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Summary: You were born to nothing, but your powerful craft caught the eye of a charming prince. However, his distinctly un-charming younger brother challenged your betrothal and is routinely challenging you. Jeon Jungkook is (probably) a former necromancer and (definitely) the wrong prince…

But the bracelets tell a different story.

Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @lemonjoonah Special thanks to my lovely beta Hope @hobi-gif who keeps my work sharp and gives so generously of her time to help me. If I shine, its because you ladies are lighting up my life. And finally, shout-out to the lovely @wwilloww who read the very first version of this story year before we ever connected through BTS. I hope you like this new version--my brain clearly ran away with me...

Content Note: In this universe a necromancer is defined as a magic user with the ability to drain and/or manipulate the life force of living beings to fuel their own power. Using life force magic temporarily grants them advanced abilities—most of which are forbidden or illegal in the Kingdom of Dionysia where this story is set. Most mages with the ability to use this type of magic do not elect to do so. Magic users in this universe are typically proficient in three to four varieties of magic generally determined by their genetic make-up (meaning you are likely to inherit the same type of magical abilities as your parents or family members).

꧁ Prologue ꧂

It is said that the world of mortals contained three sacred wells where ancient magic rose up within the waters like springs from the depths of the earth.

One such well could be found in the Kingdom of Dionysia—a nation of great warriors and powerful crafters who served as its caretakers for generations.

The Dionysians called this place Sanguine Well and, as a reward for their devotion, the gods honored them with a remarkable gift...

Bonding Bracelets

—a set of unique magical artifacts used to join, identify, and empower soulmates.

On the first day of their twentieth year, Dionysian youth traveled to Sanguine Well for the ritual creation of a bonding bracelet pair.

When the appointed hour arrived, a young seeker ventured into the depths of the well and held their breath beneath its waters till the currents receded—leaving a bracelet pair behind.

One bracelet formed fully clasped around their wrist. The other remained open and would only close for the seeker’s destined mate.

Naturally the people of Dionysia did not take the gift of bonded soulmates lightly...

All proposed matches were registered and approved by the Ruling Council before an open bracelet could even be tried on by a potential partner and both parties were required to present evidence of their commitment to one another.

If the alliance was approved, the betrothed pair participated in a public ceremony where the first seeker’s intended would activate the bond by placing the open bracelet around their wrist.

When an unclaimed bracelet united with its true owner, the open ends stretched and intertwined to form a rune.

From that moment on, the seeker and their soulmate were blood bonded in a supernatural union of their hearts, powers, and abilities that was—to all known craft—unbreakable.

Dionysia believed that this care and reverence honored the craft and the gods, thereby allowing the sacred tradition to continue.

In 900 years of recorded history, only five bonding ceremonies ended with a bracelet that did not close.

Now there were six…

꧁ Once Upon a Time ꧂

“Jin!”

Your voice echoed through the elegant corridors of Solemn Truth Palace as you chased after your betrothed. “I’m sorry! I—”

Jin whirled on you, shaking his head vehemently.

“None of this is your fault.”

“There are many reasons why this could’ve happened,” you offered breathlessly.

“There’s only one reason why this happens.”

He sighed and you rubbed your temples in frustration.

“I don’t understand… The Council gave permission.”

The Ruling Council was a sovereign governing body of three kings and three queens—one monarch from each of Dionysia’s six royal bloodlines.

“The Council isn’t all knowing…” Jin collapsed against a nearby wall. “This is a disaster,” he whispered.

And it was.

You had no family, but all of your friends and colleagues from the Academy were there.

Jin was technically an orphan as well, but his adopted family, the Jeons, were there.

Jeon Alaya was high queen of the Ruling Council, so half the kingdom was there to see the prince, her (adopted) son, bond with the craft prodigy from The Wastes.

Half the kingdom, but not her blood. Not her youngest son...

The two of you were silent for several moments as you struggled to process the shock.

“Do you think the rumors—what they say about me—is true?”

Jin’s head shot up in an instant.

“No,” he swore, “they’re absolutely not true.”

Your heart warmed at his fierce defense, but after today’s debacle you were beginning to question yourself…

Whispers that ‘Wastelanders’ like yourself were citizens of no nation and loyal only to their own desires had plagued the majority of your academic and professional career.

You were forced to work twice as hard as any of your peers for each of your achievements, relying on nothing more than your natural talent and a stubborn determination to succeed in spite of the prejudice you faced.

And you did succeed.

The gatekeepers of Dionysian society may have sneered at your background, but the powerful craft in your veins and the mastery with which you wielded it earned you undeniable respect and acclaim.

Yet—even then—you were still an outsider.

A strange girl with strange magic.

Most Dionynisians practiced forms of elemental and illusion crafts. Your primary abilities, however, were every bit as foriegn and hard to define as you were.

Strictly speaking your magic fell under the umbrella of transfiguration arts (manipulating matter and energy to transform one thing into another), but you had been known to affect everything from the taste of tea to the weather—abilities far outside the norms of that designation.

Nevertheless, transfiguration mages were rare and most of their lore was outdated—a situation which allowed you to establish yourself as a leading authority in the field almost by default.

Between your fortuitous betrothal to Prince Seokjin and the widespread recognition of your achievements, you had hoped—after a lifetime of challenges—that the path ahead might be an easier one.

But nothing ever came easily to you...

“Jin, it didn’t close—”

“It didn’t close because we aren’t soulmates—not because you aren’t one of us.” His expression softened. “We were a good idea… Just not the right one.”

Bitter tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

On some level you were not surprised. You cared for Jin but–

Yours was not an overly romantic attachment.

It was a strong friendship—one that spanned several years. When you decided to apply to the Royal Council for bonding, it seemed…

Logical.

Friendship was an excellent criteria for identifying a potential mate and over the centuries many bonded pairs applied as friends.

You trusted in the wisdom of the Royal Council—everyone did.

If you and Jin were not meant for one another, surely the Council would see it. They would turn down the application—someone would object—

Well...

Someone did object.

But you were approved, nonetheless.

The date was set. Announcements were made. Invitations were sent out.

Then, at last, the ornate golden cuff was placed over your wrist and…

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

Jin’s bracelet remained stubbornly un-closed.

And you had never felt so mortified—so exposed—

So profoundly alone in your entire life.

It was a scandal of epic proportions, one which potentially called into question the judgement of the entire Ruling Council.

“Listen,” Jin spoke at last, “I need… I need to clear my head and think about the next steps. I know an expert on bonding bracelets. Perhaps I can convince her to help us figure out this mess.”

His hands settled over your shoulders in a familiar comforting gesture.

“Head to my house outside the city for a while. No one will bother you there, and I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gave your arms a brotherly squeeze. “We’ll work through this—I promise.”

Neither of you were keen to face the commotion unfolding in the grand ballroom of Solemn Truth Palace (where the failed ceremony took place), so Jin suggested a discreet escape through the secret entrance in his mother’s office.

The two of you parted ways with a final hug before the prince set off for the Hall of Records—leaving you to trudge miserably toward his beautiful mansion by the lake.

Technically, Golden Starlight Manor was just one of many homes owned by the Jeon family. This one, however, Jin shared with his younger brother…

Jungkook.

You kicked a stone irritably at the mere thought of his name.

Prince Jeon Jungkook was rather a sore subject for you.

In fact, over the course of your acquaintance, you expended considerable energy either avoiding him or engaging in dramatic shouting matches with him.

As such, Starlight (the family’s affectionate nickname for the sprawling ancestral holding) was normally the last place in Dionysia you wanted to be.

But that was no longer the case.

Jungkook had been gone for weeks. He left the very day your betrothal was announced…

“Why do you bother with those ridiculous gloves? Anyone who’s watched you cast knows what you’re hiding.”

You sighed heavily.

“Good evening to you as well, Jungkook. Nice of you to finally show up.”

“Mother made some very explicit threats against my person when I told her I was busy so I assumed it was important—and, judging by your fancy gloves, I was correct.”

“Honestly I’m beginning to suspect you’ve never seen a pair before.”

“I’m just baffled by their purpose. It’s only a scar—your hands are not disfigured… So why cover it up?”

Only a scar…

You shook your head.

Only a scar you earned in a back alley knife fight when you were a mere ten years old. With no proper medical care it had become infected and what should have been a simple wound became a permanent reminder of your ugly past.

Tonight—of all nights—you would rather not be reminded...

“Is there a purpose to this discussion, Highness, or are you just interrogating me for fun?”

Jungkook scoffed at your cool reply.

“That scratch on your hand isn’t even noticeable, you know.” He opened up his own palm to reveal a thick band of gnarled tissue slashing diagonally across the center. “Mine is significantly more impressive.

Something that might have been a smile tugged insistently at the corner of your lips but you covered it quickly with a blistering scowl.

“Comparing scars—really? Can’t you be civilized for one blasted evening?”

“Why would I do that? Think of how bored you’d be.”

You groaned and threw back the rest of your drink with a frustrated gulp.

“Believe it or not we common folk long for a bit of peaceful boredom now and then.”

The prince snorted and clasped his hand dramatically over his heart.

“So righteous.”

“Someone ought to be.”

“Enough you two,” Jeon Alaya called from across the family’s spacious day room. “I just replaced those curtains and I don’t want them exploding into a herd of butterflies—or some other such nonsense.”

In any other context, that would have been a profoundly strange comment.

However…

Disagreements between yourself and Jeon Jungkook had become downright legendary over the last several months.

A heated argument in Night Meadow Park caused several trees to burst into bright multicolored flames and start shooting all their fruit at peaceful park-goers like tiny delicious cannonballs.

A dispute over the best ingredients to use in vegetable casserole ended with an entire bowl of green beans growing legs and chasing the family dog out onto the lawn.

The two of you got into a row at the Centennial Peace Celebration and sent all of the lightning swans (specially flown in for the occasion) into a static-electric mating frenzy that plastered everyone’s clothes to their bodies obscenely—including the ninety-five year-old high priest. (The chief matron from the Knitting Guild was so scandalized that she fainted into a bowl of punch.)

And just last week Jungkook’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge your point in an ongoing debate about teleportation made you so mad that your hair literally turned red for an entire day.

As such, you both had the decency to look abashed under the high queen’s wary gaze.

“I don’t know, Mother,” Jin chuckled before offering the assembled guests a dazzling grin. “Perhaps you should have let them go. Butterflies are good luck after all.”

You sighed happily—impressed yet again by your partner’s elegant diplomacy.

The two princes of House Jeon could not have been less alike.

They shared a deep affection for one another and for their parents, but that was where the similarities began and ended.

Seokjin was a playful charmer with a silver tongue and a delightfully mischievous demeanor.

He was remarkably similar in both looks and temperament to Alaya and her husband Roomin—so much so that people often assumed Jungkook was the adopted sibling.

The elder prince was also a natural politician. He enjoyed appearing in charitable competitions for cooking and fishing where his flirtatious habit of blowing kisses into the crowd would unlace corsets and purses strings left and right.

Not that he had ever been unfaithful—Kim Seokjin was every bit as kind and loyal as he was beautiful.

And he was very beautiful.

Jungkook on the other hand…

Beautiful was altogether the wrong word.

The sharp sensual planes of his face seemed shaped for something darker and wilder than beauty.

Jin was clever and outgoing, but Jungkook was brilliant and quietly intense. His abilities and impressive spell lore were both highly sought after, but he was difficult to draw out and generally preferred to practice his science and experimental craft far away from the public eye.

Most people agreed that he was an enigma—and a wickedly handsome one at that. His fiery brown eyes and impressive muscular physique were only enhanced by the apathetic confidence of his demeanor.

However...

The younger prince’s most arresting feature was unquestionably his hair.

Once, it had been brown—like the rest of the Jeon family…

But he returned from ‘the incident’ several years ago with a distinct new color—one no dye or spell could replicate.

Ashen Gold.

The mark of a deadly necromancer.

A constant visual reminder that he had taken a life.

And yet even that could not detract from his seductive allure—if anything it made him appear more poetically ethereal.

Like an Angel of Death.

Women all over the kingdom were obsessed with the mysterious Jeon prince—

Not you of course.

That raw, unruly magnetism might cause some hearts to flutter—but certainly not yours.

After all...

Jeon Jungkook was still a true-born prince.

And you—even with all of your accomplishments—would always be a street waif from The Wastes with a little too much magic in her blood.

You had no business noticing the soft curve of his lips or the strong line of his jaw or—

… anything below that.

As such you shot the man in question one final dirty look before turning your attention back to Jin.

The elder prince finished thanking the assembled guests for accepting his invitation and finally arrived at the true purpose for the evening.

“Honored loved ones… I am pleased to announce that a bond between this incredibly beautiful woman and my unworthy self has been unanimously approved by the Royal Council! We are betrothed!”

A predictable burst of applause and excited murmuring erupted as you stepped forward, prepared to graciously take your place at Jin’s side and accept congratulations when—

Strong fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist—holding you back decisively.

Shocked silence fell over the room as you turned to face Jeon Jungkook (resolutely ignoring the fact that his unyielding grip was sending the strangest sparks of heat all through your body).

“No,” he growled with startling finality. “You cannot be with him.”

… Perhaps that humiliating spectacle at your betrothal party should have been the first indication that today’s ceremony was bound to end in misery.

Jeon Jungkook was a menace, but he adored his brother and his impassioned objections to the match were wildly uncharacteristic.

Still…

Considering the turbulent nature of your relationship, you were rather relieved that he had not been there this morning to witness his own belated triumph.

It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

The repercussions of today’s disastrous ceremony loomed overhead like the Sword of Damocles. There would be no escaping the fallout.

It was well past the eighth hour when you finally reached the manor and the staff were already gone for the night…

There was no one to greet you or ask any well-intentioned questions about your sudden appearance.

Thank the gods for small favors.

Normally you took a moment to appreciate Starlight’s elegantly carved entryway and vibrant woodland wallpaper (a stunning and expensive feature which made the entire house feel like an enchanted forest)—but the reality of the day was already beginning to take a physical toll.

You were entirely too drained to attempt the stairs, bypassing them in favor of the main drawing room where you intended to simply collapse fully-clothed on a chaise when—

“Shouldn’t you be off playing princess literally anywhere else?”

Of course.

A mirthless laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Just what I needed right now.

The prince crossed his arms and offered you a condescending tilt of his head.

Years of social training had you dipping slightly into an informal bow—hoping it would hide the way your body always seemed to go haywire in his presence.

Jungkook’s tall muscular frame leaned indolently against the fireplace, dressed head to toe in his signature black garb. Two silver earrings—priceless heirlooms of the Jeon bloodline—dangled rakishly from his ears beneath riotous waves of golden hair.

He looked more like a renegade pirate than a high born prince.

And his effect on you was maddening.

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook raised a single imperious brow in response.

“It is my house, Sandflower.”

You bristled at the familiar nickname.

Sandflowers were native to the desolate region you grew up in.

It was an easy way to remind you of your place into the world.

And his.

A prince of Dionysia forced to interact with a foundling from The Wastes simply because you happened to catch his brother’s eye.

How that must grate his delicate sensibilities.

You tapped your chin thoughtfully.

“I heard you ran off to pout over Jin’s terrible taste in women on one of those South Sea pleasure cruises.” Condescension dripped from your tone like poisoned honey. “What happened? Couldn’t find any lost souls willing to partner you for naked badminton?”

He grinned devilishly.

“Quite the opposite in fact. There were far too many volunteers.”

You rolled your eyes, firmly pushing aside the unwelcome heat his words evoked.

“Please spare me the details. I recently ate.”

“Yes, how was that overblown betrothal banquet?… Boring?… Pretentious?” He sighed theatrically. “Such a shame I missed those speeches—especially King Tiemore. His habit of loudly sucking snot up into his skull really adds a special something.”

You just barely managed to bite back a snort—

King Tiemore’s speech was rather excruciating—and for that very reason.

“The dinner was lovely—naturally. Of course the younger prince’s absence was keenly felt by all—though I confess some of us enjoyed it more than others.”

“I knew there had to be something about me you enjoyed.”

“Indeed. Your absence is by far your most attractive quality. I find myself powerfully drawn to it.”

Jungkook laughed and offered you a wry grin.

“You know—you play so coy, but I’m sure you missed me a little.” He leaned forward ever-so-slightly. “Or were you truly content with all that ‘peaceful boredom’ I left behind?”

No. I wasn’t.

“Yes, of course I was,” you snapped.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You’re free to believe whatever you like.”

A sudden scuffle erupted from the corner as Pippin (the family dog) scrambled nervously out into the kitchen. Ever since the green bean incident he refused to be in the same room with the two of you together.

Jungkook sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

“What are you even doing here, Sandflower?”

A sharp burst of anxiety spiked in your stomach. You were in no way prepared to reveal the extent of your humiliation to him just yet.

“I could ask you the same question.”

His eyes narrowed curiously.

“A man hardly needs to explain why he’s present in his own home. The same, however, cannot be said for you. Now why are you here when you’re supposed to be hanging off my brother's arm like a good little bride-to-be.”

“Perhaps I’ve come to plan,” you answered coolly. “Golden Starlight House would make a lovely venue for the wedding, don’t you think?”

You gestured toward a worn leather chair near the fireplace (one you knew to be his favorite). “We just need to clear out all the trash and it will be absolutely perfect.”

“Over my dead body.”

You shrugged.

“If you insist—though I’m afraid your hideous corpse will clash with the decor.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about all that, Sandflower. I wouldn’t be caught celebrating that union dead or alive.”

“Well now that is fortunate,” you sighed in a sickeningly sweet tone, “—as I would rather not share the joy of my wedding ceremony with the man who publicly objected to it.”

Jungkook pushed off his perch against the mantle, rising to full intimidating height.

“I had good reason.”

The words were quietly spoken, but his eyes burned with conviction—just as they had the last time you saw him.

“What reason could you possibly have for obstructing your brother’s happiness?”

The prince took a full step closer and you tried very hard not to be unnerved by the reduced space between you.

“Jin is not right for you, little Sandflower—”

“You do not have permission to address me informally!”

Your voice cracked through the air like a whip as you sought to reestablish a safe distance (whether real or metaphorical) between the two of you. “I may have been born a nothing from The Wastes, but I am a ranked crafter and the betrothed of a royal. You will refer to me accordingly.”

Jungkook could feel his normally frigid heart pounding madly as he stared down his brother’s woman with unrepentant heat.

His eyes drank you in as you stood before him—teeming with barely controlled fire.

Gods but you were magnificent.

He still remembered the day Jin brought you home to the family estate.

You seemed so serene, so proper… an ideal contrast to his charmingly brash elder sibling.

Within minutes, Jungkook dismissed you as vapid and uninteresting.

The girl at his brother’s side spoke very little, smiled very tightly, and sat very straight.

You would make a lovely decorative addition to Jin’s political career—one that would never distract from his efforts or clash with his carefully maintained persona.

But oh…

He’d been so very wrong.

Some months later Jungkook was called out to the Academy on unavoidable business. After several hours of work the prince was eager to leave the crowded campus and return home—until he heard something that stopped him in his tracks.

It was you.

Several classes were gathered to watch you debate a renowned authority in the field of experimental alchemy. The man’s theories had been the gold standard (literally) for decades, yet you challenged his findings with methodical precision—letting your infectious zeal color every word as you reduced his pretentious ramblings to ash.

That was the first time he saw you—the real you—not the shallow little angel his brother brought home—but a woman brimming with vibrant energy and irresistible passion.

He had no idea how you managed to suppress the force of your true nature, but he suspected that the pleasantly tepid persona you adopted with his family was meant to compensate for your ignominious origins.

He was certain, however, of one thing:

You and Jin were a terrible match.

His brother would never make you happy and he could not bear to see Jin’s spirit broken by the anguish of an ill-fated entanglement.

Naturally, this newfound conviction had nothing to do with the way his own blood stirred at the sight of you rising up in glorious fury.

Nothing at all.

From that moment on, everything changed.

Jungkook went from passively ignoring your presence to deliberately baiting you at every turn. Time and time again he pushed and prodded until that mesmerizing fire blazed in your eyes and you were alive with riotous animosity instead of cold and distant.

“Forgive me, Mistress,” he tilted his head thoughtfully, “or is it Princess now?”

You snorted and shook your head.

“You know I will never be a princess.”

“Oh? So you’ve finally given up this ridiculous alliance with my brother?”

“Your brother is a royal, but not a true born prince. His title is just a courtesy—one his mate and descendants cannot share.”

“Disappointed?”

“In you? Frequently.”

“Fair enough—but Jin is a far better person than either of us and he does not deserve to have his heart broken.”

Your mouth dropped open in outrage.

“I resent your entire implication. I know you do not think very highly of me but—”

“You have no idea what I think of you, Mistress,” he interrupted fiercely.

Anger flared in your gaze as you stepped defiantly into his space, fueled by the familiar wave of restless energy you encountered every time the two of you clashed.

“I am a powerful crafter in my own right, I don’t need a wealthy mate to survive. I have done exceptionally well for myself—by myself.”

“Then why are you with him?”

You drew back incredulously.

“Is it so hard to believe that I do not want to be alone anymore? Is it wrong to look at my gorgeous best friend and consider that perhaps we could create the one thing I cannot earn or buy or craft—not with all the gold and power in the world?”

“Love?” Jungkook sneered.

“Family,” you shot back. “Something you take for granted. Something you don’t even want. You’re not even looking for a bond mate!”

Jungkook met your cutting accusations with an icy glare. He knew you were baiting him, yet for some masochistic reason he refused to stop you.

Lines were about to be crossed, but—as usual—the prince had torn away your genteel civility and unleashed that penniless spitfire who clawed her way up from the rotting streets and into the hallowed halls of Dionysia’s Academy.

“Ah, yes. I forgot,” you drawled, not bothering to conceal the venom in your words. “The great Jeon Jungkook lives a life of self-imposed solitude—as the walking eulogy of a traitor.”

“How dare you!” he snarled.

You crossed your arms defiantly.

“How dare I what? Call her a traitor? She was a necromancer! A dark crafter using evil—and highly illegal—magic!”

“I suppose we cannot all be walking, talking saints like the Mistress of the Wastes!”

“Well, her immaculate bloodline certainly wasn’t a guarantee of any notable virtue! Really what is the point of nobility if so few of you are actually noble?”

The two of you pressed progressively closer with each traded barb and now stood nearly nose to nose seething in reciprocal fury. Every atom in your body was engaged and—for the first time since he stormed away all those months ago—you felt gloriously alive.

At heart you would always be a fighter and there was no better opponent than Jeon Jungkook.

“Careful little Mistress, you’re starting to sound awfully judgemental. Ridicule me and my advantages all you want, but birthright is not the shield from suffering you believe it to be. I endured a loss you cannot possibly comprehend.”

“A loss?... That woman was a disgrace. And yet you still have the audacity to mourn her?”

Jungkook scoffed.

“Gods, why am I even bothering? It is impossible for you to understand such things… You only know how to gain—how to advance. Loss is not something you’re accustomed to—a fringe benefit of being born with nothing I suppose.”

“Spoken like a privileged prince!”

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Do I look like a privileged prince to you?”

You knew what he was getting at and with anyone else it might have been an effective shut down, but you were a master debater—able to quickly reclaim his point for your own cutting riposte.

“Of course you do! Do you think anyone else could turn up with a necromancer’s mark and just waltz back into the fold without consequence? What have you lost? Certainly not your position—and certainly not her because everyone knows that your relationship was nothing more than an accursed spell!”

Jungkook’s jaw worked in silence as he fought to control his emotions.

For a moment he looked almost…

Vulnerable.

And you could not help the wave of sympathy that suddenly rose up for him—for the young prince of so many years ago who placed his trust—and his heart—in the wrong hands.

Your tone was noticeably softer when you spoke again.

“At first I thought it was just a ridiculous rumor spread by the Royal Council to justify your pardon... but when the Academy called me in to help permanently dispose of her spell books last winter I saw…” You bit your lip. “It really was possible.”

A soft, empty laugh left Jungkook’s lips as he shook his head.

Of course it was possible.

But the truth—that he was a fool too blinded by love to recognize the evil he allowed to flourish—was so much worse.

Elaena was heart-stoppingly beautiful—the kind of lovely that could haunt a man’s thoughts and ruin his mind.

She was a vision.

When she sought him out, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

She dazzled him, flattered him—left him breathless and enchanted—taunted and teased him till he adored her with obsessive intensity.

In time he eagerly offered her both his heart and his body—

But Elaena was after his soul...

Jungkook’s grandfather, Jeon Olin, was the most powerful necromancer in a thousand years.

The gift (or curse) of necromancy was genetic. Only a few bloodlines could use it.

When his beloved wife died giving birth to twins, Olin turned to dark craft in a desperate attempt to get her back.

The cost of necromancy, however, was impossibly steep.

It drained life force. Exposed the wielder to dangerous dark energies—

And slowly drove them insane.

In the end, Jeon Olin was put down by his own children.

Elaena wanted Jungkook’s power desperately. Her own necromancy was weak, but a blood bond with the grandson of Jeon Olin could make her invincible.

The young prince, however, remained stubbornly blind to her true motives, even as she convinced him to explore the dark edges of the magic in his blood.

After a series of passionate arguments with his concerned family, Jungkook declared his intent to marry Elaena in defiance of their express wishes.

In response, his uncle, Jeon Anjin, did something unforgivable. He removed Jungkook’s bonding bracelet from the Jeon vault and disappeared with it.

The theft and its dramatic aftermath tore the royal family apart.

Jungkook was convinced that his mother and father conspired with Anjin to keep him from bonding with Elaena. Roomin and Alaya swore they had not, but openly admitted that they were grateful for Anjin’s actions.

Neither Alaya nor her brother could forget the trauma of killing their own father and both were determined to protect future generations from the poison in their family tree.

Necromancy was a curse and, though they had no proof, the twins could sense its hold on Elaena.

When Jungkook told his beloved what Anjin had done, she flew into a violent fury—and for the first time he experienced a sliver of doubt in his previously unshakable resolve.

But it was not enough to free him.

Consumed by his bitterness and resent, the young prince cut himself off from his heritage—from his people—

And disappeared entirely.

After a few tearful pleas, Elaena persuaded him to cloak their life force using forbidden blood spells, effectively concealing them from even the most powerful seeker mages.

Daily cuts across his palm to maintain the cloaking spell left him with a thick gnarled scar—one that had not faded even after years of treatments.

For months no one knew the prince’s whereabouts… or even if he was still alive.

Elaena believed that if they held out long enough the royal families would relent and welcome them back with open arms. Her obsession with finding Anjin and his stolen treasure put an incredible strain on their relationship...

“You have… no idea what you’re talking about,” Jungkook whispered angrily.

“Of course I do,” you scoffed. “I’ve worked with mind and heart spells for years. Once the magic is broken or the caster dies—the feelings cease to exist!”

Fury sparked chaotically in the prince’s gaze as he shook his head in frustration.

“You’re so sure of yourself—of everything—and you never stop to consider that you might be wrong.”

Your fingers pressed into your temples as you tried to ease the headache he was giving you.

“What could I possibly be wrong about? The entire kingdom knows the story! You were bewitched until Elaena cast a dark spell that rebounded and killed her—”

“That,” he hissed, “is the story—but it is not the truth.”

His hand shot out to grasp the back of your neck and with a sudden flash of heat you found yourself yanked roughly into his memories...

The door to Elaena’s makeshift workshop slammed open with a deafening crack.

“Ju-Jungkook—what are you doing here, my love? I thought you were out hunting for our dinner.”

Something was wrong. She could see it in his eyes. For months they were filled with open adoration...

Now they burned with hurt and mistrust.

“I was looking for the knife,” he whispered quietly, “I remembered seeing you with it last night...”

Elaena paled.

He’d gone through her chest. But that didn’t have to mean anything—he could have missed—

“I found this.”

Jungkook slammed an old leather scroll down on the table between them, confirming his lover’s worst fears.

“That… that isn’t what it seems—I promise I—”

“Enough!” Jungkook shouted—his voice was already beginning to shake. “These are experimental incantations to force an unfated bracelet bond… Tell me—why would you need such a thing?”

His pain and anguish grew every moment she remained silent.

“Elaena... if you believe that we are soulmates—why would you need to force the bond?”

Elaena rushed toward him, sliding her hands up to cradle his face imploringly.

“It isn’t like that, my love. This is just research. Of course I believe—”

A soft whimpering sound suddenly cut her off and Jungkook drew back in alarm.

“What is that?”

He pushed past her, making his way toward the source of the noise—a small moving object covered by cloth in the middle of the room.

“It’s nothing! Wait!”

Elaena tugged frantically at his shirt but he shook her off and pulled back the cloth to reveal—

“Elaena—gods what have you done?”

It was a little girl—one he recognized from the village they were hiding in. She was bound and laid out over strange dark casting symbols he did not recognize.

“I discovered a spell, Jungkook. It’s an ancient necromancer incantation. With it you can find anything—anyone.”

A hard hollow feeling gripped his chest tightly.

“... Why is the girl here?”

“Don’t you see? Now we can finally take your bracelet back from Anjin! You and I—we can truly be together—”

“THE GIRL, Elaena! What are you doing to the girl!?”

His hands came up to grip her arms, but she pushed him away in disgust and extended her palm toward the child.

“I told you—she’s nothing. Just a bit of collateral damage.”

Elaena’s eyes darkened to an inky black and the little girl began to cry, struggling as the primal essence her life force was cruelly ripped away.

“Elaena stop! Let her go! You can’t do this!”

“OF COURSE I CAN!” she snarled. “I’ve done it before.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“But-but your hair—”

“I’ve been brewing a potion to cover it for years! How could I be satisfied with the meager energy of animals when a single human life can make me more powerful than the high queen!”

The girl screamed again and Jungkook ran to her side, yanking and pulling at the ropes around her small wrists in horrified desperation.

“It’s too late!” Elaena shouted. “The ritual has already begun. You cannot save her now!”

The prince cradled the shaking child in his arms and sobbed out in anguish.

He knew in his heart what had to be done—

… And that he must be the one to do it.

“I can save her...” he whispered. “It is you who cannot be saved.”

A single tear drifted down the side of his cheek as he stretched out his palm toward the woman he loved.

“I’m sorry...”

You gasped as the memory began to darken—holding your breath as the last few moments played through your mind—

—watching as the prince’s beautiful brown curls lightened to an unmistakable gold...

—watching him run to the lifeless Elaena and pull her against his chest in despair.

“Oh my gods…” you whispered. “It wasn’t a spell. You—”

“I loved her.”

The words fell heavy on your heart like molten lead.

It hurt to hear them—and you could not bear to think about why.

Heavens above I’ve been a fool.

Jeon Jungkook was far more complicated than you realized.

Though… perhaps a part of you had always known that.

“Your hair was dark in the vision until…” You swallowed convulsively. “Was… was that—”

The prince’s eyes were strangely hollow.

“I’ve only ever taken one life.” His gaze held yours with quiet intensity. “Hers.”

The word lingered like poison in the scant space between you—even as emotions too strong and too numerous to identify churned chaotically through your senses.

This man was such a fascinating force in your life—a question you kept trying to answer over and over again without success.

After a moment Jungkook slowly turned his back to you, resting his weight against the mantle with a weary sigh.

For the first time you realized just how close the two of you had come to one another.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“I can’t imagine why you’re apologizing. You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me.”

“I don’t know what to think of you at all… Why won’t you let them tell the truth?”

Indignation and self-loathing warred over his features as he swung around abruptly.

“Because the truth is—that I would rather they all believe I was a spoiled, bewitched pawn and not a monster who used his own grotesque abilities to kill the woman he loved!”

“No!” You shook your head fiercely, “You saved that little girl!”

“And I lost myself!”

You gasped at the violent bitterness behind his words.

The raw pain in his voice—in his expression—was heart wrenching; such a departure from the normally arrogant and apathetic prince.

“Jungkook,” you breathed sympathetically, but he kept going—almost as if he hadn’t heard you.

“My honor, my dignity, my self-respect —perhaps even my chance to forge a bond… All of it died with Elaena.”

“That’s not true! You chose to do the right thing—to protect an innocent life—even if it meant sacrificing someone you loved! That is a truly noble act.”

“Noble?... Are you blind, Mistress? Everyone, including you, regards me with fear and distrust. All anyone sees when they look at me is a monster.”

“Stop saying that. You’re not a monster—”

“Oh?” He leaned in again, crowding your space, “Then what am I?”

Your breath caught. Your eyes widened in response to his proximity—

—and Jeon Jungkook forcibly bit back a groan.

Gods but you were so unpardonably beautiful up close it was almost painful.

He couldn’t say what compelled him to reveal the truth of his past to you or why all of his carefully maintained defenses routinely seemed to fade away in your presence. He spent so much time pushing others back and yet—by instinct rather than by choice—he was always trying to bring you closer.

Even now—as uncomfortable as it was to have the darkest parts of his soul laid bare before you…

He could not bring himself to regret it.

“To that little girl… you’re a hero,” you whispered softly.

Surprise flickered briefly acros his gaze. It was clear he had not expected such an admission from you. His eyes seemed to search your face for signs of mockery and for a moment you were thoroughly ashamed of yourself.

“Then what am I to you?” he asked finally.

You paled.

“...W-what?”

There was nothing but a whisper of space separating you now. You could practically feel his breath against your skin when he spoke.

“If I am not a monster… then I must be something else.” His eyes locked with yours significantly. “So what am I to you?”

Oh gods, help.

It should have been such a simple question.

But it wasn’t.

And it became increasingly more complicated with every moment that passed between you. Something dark and inviting stirred restlessly beneath the surface each and every time your paths crossed...

You could feel it.

But you could not afford to acknowledge it—and he could never seem to let it go.

“Elaena was the monster,” you insisted firmly, twisting your response away from dangerous territory, “—and you cannot continue to let her control your life like this.”

Jungkook drew back with a frustrated growl.

“She is not controlling my life! You think I’m mourning her? The person I loved was a lie. She never even existed!”

“Exactly! You were the victim every step of the way… So why are you punishing yourself?”

His eyes hardened.

“You’re taking shots in the dark now, Mistress,” he warned.

“Am I? You’ve locked yourself away in that dungeon you call a lab for the past four years. Barely twenty five winters, but you walk like a beaten man. Elaena may not have bewitched you, but she still has her hands wrapped around your throat.”

Jungkook snapped forward with a strangled roar and seized both your arms—yanking you close to him once more. Sharp, spiraling heat shot through your veins as you met his livid black gaze.

“You have no right to speak to me that way. You have never been in love. You don’t know what it is to lose it!”

“I love your brother—”

“You do not know my brother! And he does not know you.”

“Of course he knows me!”

“Does he, Sandflower?” Jungkook addressed you intimately once again—not caring that he was forbidden to do so. “Does he know how you light up the moment you win an argument? Or see the smile you save for finding that solution no one else could? Does he even realize that you hide an insatiable passion behind that chilling calm? Answer me, woman!”

But you could not.

Jeon Jungkook had seen you.

He had seen you.

—and the truth he threw in your face cut deeply.

For years you searched for a partner who would suit you. Someone who needed you. Someone safe and comfortable...

Someone like Jin who was kind and charming and often benefited from your perspectives.

… And yet—

Something was missing.

You didn’t want Jin as a woman should want her mate… and you always suspected—on some level—that he did not want you (in that way) either.

Perhaps it will come with time. Perhaps I’m just nervous—you reassured yourself over and over again.

But here and now—after everything that had happened—the truth was unavoidable.

You did not feel with Jin.

Not like when you argued your theories at the academic tribunals. Not like when you traveled to every corner of the kingdom just to satisfy your curiosity. Not like—

Your breath caught.

Not like with Jungkook.

All at once the truth crashed over you like flood waves from a broken dam.

It wasn’t anger, or resent, or even frustration that flared chaotically through your system every time he got too close—

It was desire.

When the prince saw his accusations confirmed in your troubled gaze, he lashed out and seized your wrist.

“How can you even wear his brace-”

He stopped cold.

It wasn’t there.

“Where is the bracelet?”

His entire being seemed to suspend within a single question.

“It didn’t close,” you said breathlessly.

Then your eyes changed. From guarded to almost… hopeful.

Inviting.

Just for an instant.

But it was enough.

Every urge—every impulse—every desperate longing he caged out of self-preservation suddenly broke free with a vengeance.

Jungkook dragged you completely into his arms, bringing your face mere breaths from his.

“You can never belong to him,” he growled as his lips came crashing down on yours.

Oh sweet merciful heavens.

You had allowed Jin to kiss you before. He was your betrothed after all and the few tender kisses you shared with him were quite sweet, very pleasant, utterly polite—

And nothing—absolutely nothing—like this.

Dark, wicked heat poured through your body in relentless waves as his mouth moved against yours, giving and taking with unmistakable hunger.

He tasted like summer and wonder and every wish you ever whispered into the wind under the stars.

Jeon Jungkook was definitely the wrong brother and you were an upstart from the wrong class—but oh...

This was so indescribably right.

Your breath caught as the prince bore you back into the wall, desperate for any part of you he could touch— and you opened to him willingly—eagerly—as if you had done so a thousand times.

As if you belonged to him...

You shouldn’t want this. You knew better—but instead of pushing him away you pressed forward shamelessly, tangling your fingers into his hair as you melted against him.

The contrast of his muscular frame intertwining with your supple curves was unspeakably erotic. Everything about this man was unspeakably erotic and your body responded to his with hedonistic fervor.

One of his hands slammed against the ornate surface behind you and suddenly the beautifully rendered woodlands frozen within that absurdly expensive wallpaper hummed with magic—coming to life beneath his fingertips even as he poured his passion into you.

Trees began to bloom. Animals began to move. The sky shifted in between previously inanimate branches. Spring broke forth from the four walls around you—

But neither of you noticed.

For you and he there was nothing beyond the explosive longing that had waited too long and too bitterly for release.

"Gods woman, you drive me crazy,” he rasped, drawing back momentarily for a breath before plundering your lips again. The rough timbre of his voice—so obviously dazed with desire—shot a fresh wave of arousal down your spine.

There would be a reckoning for this moment, of that you were certain—

… yet it no longer mattered.

The pain and humiliation of the last several hours lifted off your shoulders in favor of an incredible lightness. Everything in your world narrowed down to the feel of your heartbeat next to his.

You had slept on the streets of the Wastes, claimed unprecedented academic prestige, ascended to the gilded halls of the Grand Palace—but nothing had ever felt like him.

And nothing had ever felt like home—

Until him.

Jungkook—for his part—did not intend to kiss you, or hold you, or hoist you up against the wall as he was currently doing, but when his hand closed over your bare wrist an unholy triumph had blazed to life in the depths of his defeated soul.

Elation the likes of which he’d never known suddenly flooded his senses.

Jin may have found you first, but he would be the one to claim you.

You were his.

He knew it from the moment he watched you dismantle that overblown alchemist like a warrior queen.

The day the council approved your betrothal he felt as if his world was ripped in half.

It was unthinkable.

How could you belong to his brother when it was his soul that burned for you?

Watching you stand next to Jin, smiling and accepting congratulations with that pleasantly vacant smile on your face, had been the last straw.

That night he ran as far away as he could, hoping to escape you… but it was never far enough.

You haunted him relentlessly. And he soon discovered that there was no point in putting distance between you—

Not when you were already in his heart.

In the end he returned to Dionysia determined to face his fate—only to find that he had been right all along.

“I’ve always loved Sandflowers. Did you know that?”

You gasped as he began to press hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat.

“I-I didn’t know.”

You didn’t know your own name at this point, so that wasn’t saying much.

“It’s true,” he hummed, sucking a trail of pretty pink marks into the soft skin along your collarbone. You whined breathlessly at his boldness, losing yourself in each new sensation until he spoke again.

“Sandflowers flourish and grow where nothing else can. They’re incredibly strong,” he pressed forward, melding the hard lines of his body into yours till his center ground against your throbbing core, “yet still so beautiful and soft.”

Nimble fingers pulled at the laced sides of your elegant betrothal dress—loosening the ties till he could slip through and brush over your bare skin.

“They cannot be kept in vases on desks or in little glass houses… Nothing so fragile could ever contain them.”

You moaned needily and his breath caught as the sound of it curled through him like an echo from his wildest dreams.

“I thought—”

“I know what you thought,” he whispered, fisting his hand in your hair to gain better access to the delectable curve of your neck. “And I let you think it because it was easier if you hated me.”

Your eyes flew open as he reached lower, sliding his hands under your dress to fully reveal the smooth legs wrapped around his body. One firmly muscled thigh suddenly pressed directly into the warmth of your swollen cunt—

And then he began to move.

“Jungkook—oh my gods!”

Pleasure—urgent and messy—rippled out from your center in all directions, overtaking you in a way that felt utterly primal and uncivilized. Your body trembled as he rutted against yours folds, opening even further to accommodate that glorious new friction.

The sounds he drew out of you were incoherent—unhinged even. Mindlessly, you moved to cover your lips but his hand suddenly closed over your wrist and pinned it to the wall.

“You sound so sweet,” he murmured in between thrusts, “so perfect.”

Your gown was slowly coming apart, slipping further and further down till it barely clung to the swells of your breast.

The need building between your legs was fast becoming unbearable. You were racing toward some sort of breaking point when you felt his hands latch around your hips and lift you onto a nearby decorative table—shattering the lamp and what was certainly a priceless antique vase as he swept them aside to make room.

The sound of glass breaking against the tile barely registered through the haze of desire pulsing between you—and neither of you noticed when the larger shards sprouted shimmering gossamer wings and began to flutter whimsically around the light fixtures.

Instead you were mewling pitifully at the unacceptable emptiness between your thighs and pulling at him in an attempt to soothe your frustration.

“Shhh,” he chuckled, “I’ve got you.”

His mouth played lazily over your skin as he leaned you back, lowering himself till his lips hovered over the greedy tips of your breasts.

Some distant part of your mind knew that this was beyond scandalous.

The once beautiful betrothal garment pooled at your waist, leaving your top and bottom bare to the hungry gaze of a man who was definitely not your betrothed.

Then his tongue darted out to give one tightened peak the slightest flick and you hissed as sensation twisted through you.

“These are exquisite,” he mused naughtily and you whined in response—arching toward him without conscious thought as his words wound around you like the strangest spell—warming you from the inside out with their simple forthright magic.

Finally he leaned forward and drew one tormented nub into his mouth with obvious obscene pleasure and—heavens above—it felt so good you almost blacked out.

“Oh my—please yes,” you keened as he sucked noisily.

Wetness flooded between your thighs as that desperate need for release continued to build recklessly. Your fingers curled into his hair as he serviced you, switching between the twin swells of your breast with greedy satisfaction till the stimulation was nearly overwhelming.

“Gods what a dream you are” he growled, worrying your swollen nub gently between his teeth, “so bare and needy.”

He moved forward to kiss you again and you gasped as his hand slid down to stroke the wet linen of your undergarments.

“Does it feel like this when he touches you?” he whispered against your lips, letting his fingers trace your sodden slit with deliberate intent.

You could only whimper in response as he continued, drawing the fabric aside to caress your bare folds.

“Do you make these noises for him?”

You shook your head frantically. “No, Jin never—ah!”

Jungkook growled at the sound of his brother’s name on your lips and slid his fingers forward, breaching the tight heat of your virgin cunt for the first time.

The pain and pleasure were so sharp and deliciously potent that you threw your head back and cried out loud.

“Of course not,” he snarled, “because he doesn’t want you like I do. He isn’t driven near to madness at the thought of you in another man’s arms.”

Your hips swayed forward desperately at the sudden foreign fullness—searching instinctively for more. Jungkook wasted no time locating that sweet secret spot inside of you, pressing and coaxing it with such reverent persistence it was almost spiritual.

“That’s it, pretty one,” he murmured heatedly. “Take what you need.”

Wanton cries poured out as you rutted against his hand, rubbing your swollen clit lewdly over his knuckles while he moaned filthy praises against your skin.

“Let me have you, Sandflower,” he whispered, curling his fingers into your soaked cunt till the arousal slid messily over his hand. “Let me show you what it’s like to be adored.”

“Yes!” you sobbed as a sharp peak of pleasure finally overtook you.

Jungkook growled in triumph as he pressed his lips to yours again—savoring the sounds of your pleasure while he worked you gently through your first release.

How could there be such a feeling in this world?

And why was he the only one who had ever let you feel it—this indescribable thrill that transcended mere physical pleasure to approach something almost like…

Freedom.

You had barely a moment to recover from your high before Jungkook was hauling you off the table and fully into his arms.

Vaguely you acknowledged that he was taking you to his room (and what was probably going to happen there) but you were too preoccupied with tearing him out of his shirt to worry about the consequences now.

Your bridges were burning and you fully intended to dance in the flames.

Every room you stumbled past on the way to his chambers was steadily overtaken with the same strange magic that had bloomed through the drawing room.

Fires spontaneously flared in dormant fireplaces, figurines twitched to life, newly sentient ancestral portraits looked down in scandalized confusion at the oblivious (and enthusiastic) couple staggering through their halls...

And Pippin went tearing out to hide in his miniature outdoor doggie castle after seeing a fox chase a colony of rabbits through the wallpaper in the dining room.

Your clothes were fully discarded by the time you finally crashed over the threshold of the prince’s quarters in a scramble of limbs and hungry desperation. (The tattered remains of your expensive betrothal gown would later be discovered beneath a traumatized painting of Jungkook’s great aunt Mildred.)

“You cannot possibly know what you’ve done to me,” he whispered, lowering you onto his bed, “—how I’ve ached to be close to you...”

Part of you was so afraid that this was a trick. That you would wake up to discover that the words he was saying were nothing more than a cruel and elaborate lie—

But there was such utter conviction in his voice as he spoke—such awe in his gaze as he took in the sight of you uncovered before him.

Yet you barely had time to be moved by it before he was kissing you again.

An irresistible magnetism charged in the air between you, mixing potently with palpable relief and the downright joyous acceptance of a passion that—in hindsight—felt oddly inevitable.

All you could think about—all you wanted— was him. The spark between you had been building for far too long. Now it blazed out of control.

Technically you had never explored this level of intimacy with a man before, but your body seemed to find rhythm with his instinctively—as if it had waited for the perfect moment to shake off its mask of civility and revel in its true primal purpose.

You should have been self-conscious—shy even—but those impulses simply never arose … Not in his arms. Not with his words wrapping around you like the warmth of a morning sun.

Arousal soaked the soft core of your body and Jungkook hissed in pleasure as the thick solid length of his cock slid messily over your folds.

“This might hurt.”

“Doesn’t everything?” you asked softly.

The words were out of your mouth before you could think to stop them and the prince’s eyes flew up to lock with yours.

There was nothing between you now—no clothes, no defenses...

No regrets.

“Yes... It did,” he whispered, “until you.”

Tears drifted down your cheek as you lifted your hand to his face.

“Jungkook…”

Then he surged forward—sinking himself into you entirely with one perfect thrust.

The feel of him nestled deeply in your sensitive heat was equal parts overwhelming and addictive. Your body bowed back in primitive gratification and for a moment you swore the sky mural on the ceiling sparked with literal lightning.

Power unlike anything Jungkook had ever experienced surged violently through his blood causing him to throw his head back with a mighty roar.

What are you? he thought dizzily as pleasure and magic raged over him. What is happening

The initial pain from being stretched so tightly morphed instantaneously into hot molten pleasure and you surged forward, bringing your mouth to his again.

Jungkook leaned back against the headboard, pulling your intimately joined bodies upright till you were facing one another.

“So good,” he gasped against your lips and your walls tightened at the sound of his praise.

His hand drifted down between to stroke your clit and you shuddered, reveling in the combination of fullness and stimulation. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily and you both groaned at the delicious friction.

“Hold on to me,” he whispered.

Then his hands clamped into the soft curve of your waist as he lifted you, sliding your heat up the solid length of his shaft only to slam you back down over him again.

“Yes!” You were nearly incoherent with pleasure—reveling in the sheer strength it took to work you up and down on his cock.

Words spilled out past your lips like the tides of a rising flood—words of adoration and want whimpered prettily into his skin like a prayer as he worked himself in your cunt.

That explosive release was building up again; Jungkook could tell by the way your body trembled wantonly against his own.

“Look at me,” he growled, “I wanna watch you fall apart.”

His words were like kindling on an already raging fire. Every time he spoke it made you hotter.

Look at me, Jeon Jungkook.

Look at what you’ve done to me.

You drew back, opening your eyes to let him see you—dazed and euphoric as you bounced like a toy on his cock.

The sound of him pistoning in and out of your sloppy wet cunt filled the air around you, braiding in between your keening and filthy lascivious moans—

But everything else fell away when your gaze finally locked together with his.

No one had ever looked at you like that.

Like you were priceless.

Like you were everything.

“I never hated you,” you gasped, unable to let the truth go unspoken for another moment.

A beautiful smile bloomed over his features.

“I know.”

You came then—tightening brutally around him like a velvet vice. Jungkook shook with restraint as he worked you through it, letting the feel of your release build into his own.

“Your sweet little pussy is holding on to me so tight, Sandflower. Let me come inside you please? You like being full don’t you? Isn’t that why you’re so messy, baby? You just want to be filled.”

“Yes!” you screamed.

“Say it,” he growled, digging his fingers into the soft rolls of your hips for leverage as his pace increased. “Tell me who made your little pussy this needy.”

“You did!”

“And what do you want me to do about it, huh?”

“Fill me up please,” you sobbed deliriously.

Your pretty begging sent him over the edge with a carnal groan. His head dropped heavily onto your shoulder as he spilled into your womb, filling you till the evidence of his pleasure ran down your leg.

“I’ll give you anything,” he swore. “Anything you want.”

Dawn trickled in slowly through the windows, spreading soft tendrils of light over the bed where you lay next to him.

Your mind was torn between elation and guilt. But your body...

Your body could still feel the imprint of his fingers where they cupped your jaw—could still hear the tender words he whispered across your skin…

Anxiety and reality begin to claw through the haze of pleasure.

Oh gods…

What have I done?

You were betrothed to his brother.

… Yet it was Jungkook’s name you called into the darkness.

Jungkook who broke through your maidenhead as you writhed and begged beneath him.

Your passion raged well into the night, and now you lay in knots beside him, watching his chest rise and fall in soothing rhythm even as your own thoughts spiraled out of control.

In the end, you wrenched your gaze away out of self-preservation.

Dawn provided enough light to make out the books and artifacts lying haphazardly on the small drafting table next to his bed. Notes lay strewn among piles of discarded quills and glass bottles...

Then your eyes caught on a distinctive shape resting in a glass case near the center of the desk.

After a moment’s hesitation—you reached forward cautiously to retrieve it.

This must be his.

Jungkook’s bracelet was very different from his brother’s. Jin’s was ostentatious—covered in sparkling rubies and square-cut diamonds—it didn’t suit your tastes at all. In fact, you remembered cringing at the thought of wearing it for the rest of your life...

But this piece was exquisite.

Thick golden vines and delicate leaves braided intricately around each other in a complicated pattern to form the width of the band…

It was the most beautiful bonding bracelet you had ever seen.

Suddenly Jungkook stirred beside you and your heart broke all over again.

How could I have been so blind?

Stifling a gasp, you could no longer hold back the tears that drifted down your cheek as you studied the bracelet—knowing you would hate whoever wore it.

Or perhaps it would never activate—not if Elaena was his soulmate. It would have died with her life force.

Still...

You turned to make sure Jungkook remained asleep.

For a moment… I can pretend...

I can pretend he’s mine.

Holding your breath you carefully slid the bracelet over your hand and pressed it to your wrist—right at the pulse point—

And it burned. For several seconds it burned everywhere—inside and out.

Then it stopped as abruptly as it began. Your eyes flew to your wrist in alarm–

No...

It can’t be.

The golden vines of Jungkook’s bracelet wove together in a perfect fit, bound irrevocably beneath a glowing rune directly above your pulse—the same rune that sealed every bracelet pair.

An Integra rune.

It meant complete.

“Oh...”

Frantically you began to tug at the bracelet, but it molded stubbornly to your wrist and would not disengage. Panic closed in from every side.

This cannot be happening! I had no right! The Council will be furious—

And Jungkook…

I never meant to trap you.

“... Sandflower?”

The heat of the bond forming had roused the prince from a heavy slumber. For a moment his gaze was soft and disoriented—until it landed on the glowing bracelet wrapped around your wrist and his eyes widened in shock.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Your soul was laid bare before him and he could destroy your with a word.

Tentatively he reached forward, lifting his fingers to trace the rune.

“Complete…” he breathed reverently. Then his eyes found yours. “It's complete.”

You gasped as he pulled you close, tenderly brushing away your tears.

“You are mine,” he whispered, unable to disguise the wonder in his voice.

Hope swelled in your chest.

“I love you.”

The words escaped without conscious thought, but his smile came too quickly for you to regret them.

He kissed you then and you moaned happily against his mouth as he lifted you from the bed to gather you fully into his arms. After a long moment he drew back, resting his forehead tenderly against yours.

Joy warmed through him for the first time in nearly a decade.

“It’s so much more than I imagined.”

You smiled and shook your head. “What is?”

“Love,” he sighed against your lips. “Love when it’s real.”

Real…

This was real.

Jeon Jungkook was yours.

And you were his...

Happiness swirled around you in glorious waves—

Only to be replaced by absolute shock when your mind finally registered the state of Jungkook’s bedroom.

“Oh my celestial gods! What happened?”

The entire chamber was—for lack of a better word—alive.

Glass shard butterflies fluttered romantically around the windows. Thick leafy vines sprouted out from the wooden frames of the bed and chairs. The clouds painted over the ceiling drifted lazily across the plaster sky. The tea service on his dressing table was serving itself and the ancient sea battle painting positioned above the fireplace raged violently within its frame—complete with canon fire and tiny little pirates sword-fighting across the canvas decks.

Jungkook huffed out an astonished chuckle as he took it all in.

“Actually… I think it was… us.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in your throat.

Perhaps the rush of the bond forming has made him delirious.

“Jeon Jungkook… I’m not sure what you were up to last night, but I was certainly far too busy to enchant your bedroom furniture with…” you shook your head incredulously, “wildly advanced magic.”

Jungkook crossed his arms and leaned forward in mock disapproval.

“There you go again, Sandflower, assuming the world revolves around you—”

“It should, you know. I’m very important.”

“Of course you are—but do recall that I said it was us—not you. And it's true—we are absolutely the cause.” He smiled softly, letting his gaze wander around the room again. “Honestly it was so obvious every time we fought—I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner...”

Jungkook’s expression was radiant when he finally turned back to you. His whole body seemed to hum with barely contained excitement.

“You’re a polarity mage.”

Huh?

“I’m… I’m a what?”

“A polarity mage—it’s an ancient magic—no one’s seen it in centuries because all the bloodlines that carried it were lost but…” his eyes darted over to where his quills were writing nasty notes to each other about who had the sharper tip, “it’s the only explanation.”

You drew back and began aggressively massaging your temples. A lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours and your brain was starting to hurt.

“Jungkook, you’ll have to walk me through this—I’ve never even heard of polarity magic and now you’re saying I’ve used it—”

“Polarity mages can reverse the nature of any magic. They’re the natural counterpart of a necromancer because their abilities combine to form a balanced symbiotic pair.”

He turned toward the dresser and carefully retrieved his favorite set of earrings. Then he held out his hand to reveal the two little jewelry bits dancing excitedly over his palm.

“A necromancer can drain and manipulate life force—but we cannot increase or transfer it. However, when our energy combines with the aura of a polarity mage the result is—”

“Creative magic...”

Your eyes widened in shock.

Creative magic was nearly impossible to perform—the skill and experience required was extraordinary. What he was saying could not possibly be true…

And yet everything around you testified that it was.

“But... how could I not have known?”

Jungkook grinned.

“Because polarity magic is mostly dormant until activated by a profound emotional catalyst—which—in this case…” he leaned forward to brush his lips gently over yours, “was me.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as he leisurely explored your neck with his mouth as if he hadn’t just dropped a life-altering revelation in your lap. “So am I going to have to hear about how you awakened my magic for the rest of our lives?”

“You really do know me so well,” he sighed, nosing playfully at the silky skin beneath your jaw.

Unfortunately, the earrings—sensing they were about to be dropped—chose that moment to dig their spiky hooks into the meaty flesh of his palm.

“Nasty little beasties aren’t you,” he chuckled. drawing back to dislodge the bloodthirsty jewelry.

Your eyes widened in shock once again.

“Jungkook… your scar…” Your gaze flew to your own hand and you gasped—not quite believing what you were seeing. “Our-our scars they’re—”

They were gone.

Completely gone—as if they had never been there to begin with.

You ran your fingers over that small patch of flesh that had once symbolized the inescapable stain of your past.

But there was nothing.

Jungkook had fallen completely silent. After a moment you finally lifted your head to discover that his eyes were welling with tears.

“I understood—somewhere in the back of my mind—that creative magic had healing and restorative potential, but I never expected—” the words caught painfully in his throat and he clenched his jaw as the emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “...I thought I would die with that scar.”

The significance of his words—of this moment—was not lost on you.

You had both come to believe that the damage inflicted by your pasts was irreversible.

And you were wrong. Gloriously wrong.

Healing and restoration were entirely possible when the two of you were together.

Jungkook wrapped his arms tightly around you and for a long while you simply held on to one another in tearful silence.

“My abilities were a curse,” he whispered, “but you have made them a redemption.”

꧁Epilogue꧂

Six Hours Later...

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably as his brother paced about the room.

“And she just… went to bed with you like she wasn’t betrothed to me two hours beforehand?”

“I’m not sure if answering that is—”

“Jungkook—”

“She did. It… happened.” He cleared his throat. “Repeatedly.”

He tried very hard not to grin.

Jin pretended not to notice.

“And you’re willing to face the consequences of this? To potentially fight our parents—the Council—centuries of sacred tradition… For her?”

“I was willing to cross many lines for Elaena,” Jungkook’s fists clenched, “—but nothing will separate me from her.” He rose to his full height and loomed menacingly. “And that includes you.”

A small smile twitched at the corner of Jin’s mouth.

“Good. That’s what she deserves.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You’re being awfully accommodating and supportive right now, big brother…”

“Well… The thing is—” Jin shook his head. “Okay. Let me start over.” He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that deranged woman who drives me absolutely insane?”

Jungkook blinked several times and Jin attempted to be more specific.

“You know—the one from work who keeps bothering me with her face and her hip swaying and her total inability to see reason—”

“… Lin Yuna? That sweet archivist who bakes cookies for everyone?”

“Everyone but me!”

“My mistake,” Jungkook coughed.

“Yes… Well—she’s an expert on bonding bracelets. So I headed directly over to her office when my bracelet didn’t close to see if she could check it for some sort of… hex–or something—”

"You have no idea how craft works, do you?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Alright then—”

“Well we got in a fight—because she is the most unreasonable woman in the entire kingdom. And I accused her of being jealous—for some reason. Then she accused me of being an impulsive hot-head—which was rude. So I grabbed my bracelet and shouted ‘how’s this for impulsive!’ and I slipped it right over her hand and–”

“It closed.”

“It bloomin closed! On the wrist of a woman who has literally dumped tea on me five separate times!”

“Well… What did she do?”

“She screamed at me for a solid hour.” Jin’s face broke into a slow grin. “Then she screamed my name for several solid hours.” His eyes glazed over a bit. “I am unreasonably in love with her.”

Jungkook groaned and ran his hand over his face.

“Ooh, we are in so much trouble.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom is going to kill us.”

“Exactly—which is why I think it might be best if we approach the Council together and explain to them—and our parents—why we’ve been casually slapping sacred bonding bracelets on women.”

“Technically my woman was the one slapping—”

“Reeaally—”

“-the bracelet.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Gods, you’re an animal.”

“That’s what Yuna said–”

“I am formally begging you to stop.”

Jin chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender while Jungkook indulged in a generous chug of his wine.

“That reminds me, little brother… Is there a reason all of our silverware can talk now? It made for a rather off-putting snack.” He shivered. “My fork started screaming every time I tried to take a bite of cheesecake.”

“... And you still kept eating it?”

“Of course I did. I’m a grown man. Wailing flatware is not going to keep me from cheesecake.”

Jungkook bit his lip—his eyes squeezed shut—

“It wasn’t that funny,” Jin grumbled several minutes later while his brother wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Yes. Yes it was.”

The elder prince just shook his head and sighed. “So… the Royal Council. Together?”

“I think that’s probably for the best.”

“... You have any idea what you’re going to say?”

Jungkook let out a long breath.

“How does ‘I seduced my brother’s betrothed the moment I found out she couldn’t marry him’ sound?”

Jin winced.

“Needs work.”

Endnote: This story gave me a ton of trouble and I had to tear it apart and put it back together so many times I lost count. It has been through a hundred different versions (I originally posted a very different version of it for another fandom, but it barely resembles that early draft). Feedback and support is incredibly powerful magic. Even just the love you guys left on the teaser helped me with pushing through and posting. Please let me know what you thought of my story. I promise to treasure every word you say. The love people show my work fuels my creativity and keeps me posting. Truly it means so much...

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