Chapter Sixty-Four

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Jisung stared at Minho's unmoving, pale body, buried beneath the blanket he'd laid atop him. He'd moved him from the infirmary to his bedroom, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. He was alone in the room apart from the human – no, the vampire. Hyunsik had told him that it was probably best for there to be no one in the room as he recovered, but he'd refused.

The scratches that lined his chest, his arms, his hands throbbed, but he paid them no mind. They weren't important then. He wanted Minho to open his eyes; it had already been over twenty-four hours.

He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep.

He knew he should, he was no use to anyone sleep deprived with a steady migraine thrumming within the confines of his skull, but he couldn't. Not until Minho opened his eyes.

His grip tightened around the cold hands he held, his entire body tensing. Tears came to his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. The pain in his chest did not ebb away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. It continued to pound its never-ending pattern to the rhythm of his heart, and each second grew more intolerable than the last.

This is my fault.

He should have been the one lying on that bed, paler than a sheet, lashing out in moments of false consciousness, body erupting in unimaginable pain. It should have been him. Maybe he'd have had a better chance of survival than Felix, with his strong blood. It didn't have to be Minho.

He bowed his head, sniffling quietly.

You failed again. He smiled bitterly, though it vanished within instants. He couldn't even manage to keep his friends safe – his Mate safe. If he'd gotten to the Crimson Castle sooner, if he'd gone after him right away, if he hadn't let his selfish grief get in the way...

He bit down on his lip so hard it drew blood. He inhaled quickly, startled by the sudden flare of pain in his lip, releasing Minho's hands for but a moment to wipe away the small trickle of blood that appeared.

He was a worthless Alpha, he knew it.

He'd saved his packmate, his friend, but at what cost? An innocent human life. His father would have found a way around it. His head drooped lower. He still didn't know what he'd do about the Riverock. If they weren't on his side, if they'd truly betrayed him, then they were a threat.

He knew what he had to do about threats that size.

Loosing a quiet, heavy breath, Jisung slowly lifted his head to stare out at the moon. It seemed to mock him, dancing in a sea of stars, perched above the world, untouchable and untouched by the problems of those who inhabited this earth.

He wondered how the Goddess could have ever done something so cruel.

Why? He wanted to ask her, teeth gritting. Why did you reincarnate us? Why did he have to die?

There would be no answers to any of his questions, that much he knew. The Goddess had always been strange, a mere whisper in the wind of their lives, and yet she played such a grand role. He would get nothing from talking to the wind, either.

He wondered if the sorrows of his life would ever ease, if he'd ever have a moment of peace again. Those days seemed so far away, so buried in his memories that he could hardly remember a day where he wasn't in peril, where he had the time to himself to relax.

He almost chuckled; now that he was Alpha, he doubted he'd ever get such a day again. He'd taken them for granted – something he deeply regretted now.

Though... this danger was what had brought him to Minho. Despite the fact that they hadn't known one another for long, that they'd hardly shared a single thing about themselves in the short time since they'd met, he still felt as though he knew him better than anybody.

Perhaps that was the reason they hadn't settled for casual conversation about favourite colours and preferred seasons and which movies were the best. He already felt as though he knew him on a deeper level than that. And no matter what, he couldn't bring himself to regret having met the one lying in front of him.

Even though the primary cause of all the troubles in his life had stemmed from Minho... he'd never regret meeting him, having him be brought into his life. It was with that realization, the moon striking its highest height for the night, that for once something changed.

Minho's eyes snapped open. 

A/N: It's almost Thanksgiving, so that means I have a four day weekend and do you know what I'm gonna dOOOOO ;))

Yeah I was gonna update this chapter last night when I wrote it, but the wifi on my laptop just like, died, so...

Q: What cliche tropes do you love the most? (courtesy of 441NINE)

A: Honestlyyyy... I have to say I do love the "chosen one" trope in fantasy, BUT, but, it has to be... well-written. Like it can't be "so yeah lmao you're the only one who can save us" at the beginning of the book. I like when it's later on in the story, and the main character is actually competent. I must say I'm also trash for the "Forbidden Love" trope, because I mean *cough* YAY.

Lots of love,

~Junnie

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