cloaked hearts↝ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏᵗᵃⁿ

04

'Cause you got trouble written over your face

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𝐏 • 𝐉

Thirst.

It's the first thing I feel when the serpent-Taeyong-bites into Helvar's thigh. Bright red-delicious-blood gushes out of his leg as he remains on the ground. As soon as Taeyong is absolute of the fact that he knocked out his opponent cold, he-in his serpent form-slithers towards the exit, his body shrinking as he disappears. A few moments of whispers here and there and his head pops up from the opening, a sneer on his face. He steps forward exposing his bare upper frame to everybody, the girls in the crowd squeal, and forms a sign heavily involving his middle finger before leaving again.

I don't get to see the healers drag Helvar's body away as my vision darkens. But my eyes are nevertheless locked on the blood on the ground.

Someone takes me by the shoulder and pulls me out of the crowd. I don't have sufficient strength in me to resist, my muscles ache but all I can understand is blood. My kidnapper stops, I don't see him do anything, but I feel like I'm floating suddenly. I gasp in relief. At least it isn't some mundane, as everybody here calls what I was before.

But why the relief? Whoever this is, is using their magic on me and they're plenty lethal than a sixteen-year-old pointing a butter knife at me.

The wave of hunger hits in the gut and I find myself slipping into darkness, barely holding on the edge of consciousness.

This is new... A voice says in my head, startling me. It isn't mine. A mundane couldn't dot that.

I realize why I suffer this way, I haven't fed for four days (which was hardly a proper drink; I got dragged away by Jungkook). I pick up the muffled sound of the announcer handing Taeyong his prize or money, I'm too drained to care.

"You're hungry. When did you last feed?" the voice could not be a male's. I know I'll regret staying silent later as I learn a chuckle leaves her mouth. She drops me on the ground. I look around, still sitting on the ground, with no energy to get up. The place is unfamiliar. I look around at the mess. Papers are strewn about, glass shards all over the floor, cabinets have fallen face down. The only source of light is the big window in the left corner, I'm smart enough to know the glass shards are from the broken window. There was definitely a struggle here.

With all the might in my body, I stand up, my fist against the wall. The first step is the easiest. A lunge to the little table in front of me. The second is more difficult, now that I know how much effort it takes. I walk like a man drunk or hobbled. For a split second, I envy my father's wheelchair. The shame of such thoughts fuels my next steps, across the length of the room. Panting, I reach the other side, collapsing against the wall. The girl takes me by my shoulder. Her grasp is firm, stronger than my dance instructor.

It takes me by surprise, I couldn't feel her presence in the room earlier. As if she was a ghost. I didn't get a chance to look at her-actually, look at her face. She has an oval face, a high nose, heart-shaped lips, and dewy skin.

She has that look of otherness in her, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander to the edge of the world. She looked like an—

"Angel," I blurt out.

"Actually, no. Although I have been told the resemblance is startling," She has a wicked grin on her face as she let go of me.

What I see next turns my stomach into a knot. The woman, barely in her twenties, has knives of all sizes hanging from her hip. I hope she doesn't know how to use them.