The forest thickened as Suyeon moved deeper, its canopy weaving a shroud that blocked the moon's accusing light. Her steps were swift but unsteady, each one a battle against the exhaustion gnawing at her bones. The fight with the demon, the strain of her foxfire, and the encounter with the exorcist had drained her more than she'd admit. Her cloaking spell flickered like a dying ember, her nine tails threatening to break free, their silver glow pulsing beneath her skin. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the curse's rhythm—a relentless drumbeat that had defined her for a thousand years. Jinwoo's oath and Hana's warning churned in her mind, twin storms she couldn't outrun.
She stopped at a clearing where the trees parted, revealing a sky studded with stars. The air was cool, scented with pine and the faint tang of smoke from Haeryong's distant fires. Her breath fogged as she sank to her knees, her cloak pooling around her like spilled ink. She needed rest, needed to rebuild her strength, but the forest felt alive with eyes—Hana's runes, Jinwoo's stubborn loyalty, the village's inevitable whispers. She was a Kumiho, a creature of deception, yet her lies were unraveling faster than she could weave them.
A memory surfaced, unbidden, sharp as a blade. Centuries ago, another village, another life. She'd been "Mira" then, a merchant's daughter, her tails hidden, her smile a lure. A boy had loved her, his eyes bright with trust, until an exorcist's talisman burned her guise away. She'd fled as his screams echoed, the village's torches chasing her into the night. She'd vowed never to care again, never to let a mortal's gaze pierce her. Yet Jinwoo's amber-flecked eyes haunted her, his oath a chain she didn't want.
A rustle broke her thoughts. Her head snapped up, claws extending, her senses flaring. The scent was human—sweat, blood, and steel. Jinwoo. She cursed under her breath, rising as his figure emerged from the trees, his sword sheathed but his hand resting on its hilt. His shoulder was bandaged with a strip of his own hanbok, the bloodstains dark against the fabric. He moved with a limp, but his eyes were sharp, tracking her with the same stubborn resolve she'd seen in the clearing.
"You don't listen, do you?" Suyeon said, her voice cold, though her heart betrayed her with a quickened beat. "I told you to stay away."
Jinwoo stopped a few paces off, his breath visible in the chill air. "And I told you I keep my oaths." His voice was steady, but there was a roughness to it, a weariness that matched her own. "You're hurt. I saw it in the way you moved back there."
Suyeon's lips curled, a half-smile masking her unease. "You're seeing things, warrior. I'm not the one bleeding." She turned, intending to vanish into the forest, but his next words stopped her.
"You're running," he said, not accusing, but stating a fact. "From the exorcist. From the village. From me. Why?"
She whirled, her eyes flashing gold for a moment before she forced them back to human brown. "Because you're a fool who doesn't know what he's chasing. I'm a Kumiho, Jinwoo. A monster. You saw my tail. You know what that means."
"I know you saved my life," he said, stepping closer, undeterred by her glare. "And the village. You could've let that demon tear us apart, but you didn't. That's not what monsters do."
Suyeon laughed, sharp and bitter, the sound echoing off the trees. "You think you know me because I didn't let you die? I've lived a thousand years, mortal. I've burned villages, broken hearts, left bodies in my wake. One good deed doesn't change that." Her voice cracked, betraying the lie she wanted to believe. She hadn't burned villages in centuries, hadn't killed since she'd sworn to live quietly. But the curse whispered otherwise, its weight a constant reminder of her past.
Jinwoo's jaw tightened, but he didn't flinch. "Then why save me? Why risk your secret?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it, her hands clenching into fists. She didn't have an answer—not one she could admit. His defiance, his refusal to break, had stirred something in her, a spark she'd thought long extinguished. "Go back to Haeryong," she said, her voice low, dangerous. "Mourn your dead. Rebuild. Forget you ever saw me."
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "I can't. Not after what I saw. Not after you said your name." He took another step, close enough now that she could smell the blood on him, the sweat and smoke. "Suyeon, I don't know what you're running from, but I meant my oath. I'll protect you. Even from yourself."
Her chest tightened, the curse pulsing like a warning. "You'll die for that oath," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mortals always do."
Before he could reply, a sharp crack split the air. Suyeon spun, her senses flaring as a talisman sailed from the trees, its red ink glowing like embers. It struck the ground between them, erupting in a burst of divine light that forced Suyeon back. Hana emerged from the shadows, her staff raised, its runes blazing. Her gray eyes were cold, her expression a mask of resolve.
"You don't listen either, do you?" Hana said, her gaze flicking between Suyeon and Jinwoo. "I told you I'd be watching."
Suyeon's claws extended, her foxfire flickering beneath her skin. "And I told you to try binding me," she snarled. "You'll regret it."
Hana's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Bold words for a fox on her last legs." She raised her staff, and the air grew heavy, the runes' light weaving a net of divine energy. Suyeon felt the pressure, the same binding spell from the stream, but weaker now, as if Hana was holding back.
Jinwoo stepped forward, his sword half-drawn. "Leave her be," he said, his voice steady despite the blood seeping through his bandage. "She's no threat to you."
Hana's eyes narrowed, assessing him. "You're either bewitched or stupid, warrior. She's a Kumiho. Her kind thrives on deception. That 'heroic' act in the village? A trick to gain your trust."
"She fought a demon," Jinwoo said, his voice rising. "She saved lives. If that's deception, I'll take it over your threats."
Suyeon's heart twisted, his words a weight she didn't want. She stepped between them, her eyes locked on Hana. "He's nothing to do with this," she said. "Let him go. Your fight's with me."
Hana tilted her head, her staff still raised. "You'd protect him? A mortal you just met? That's new for your kind." Her voice softened, but her eyes remained sharp. "Tell me, Kumiho. Why Haeryong? Why now? Demons don't attack without cause, and your presence isn't a coincidence."
Suyeon's jaw tightened. She didn't know why the demon had come, but Hana's words echoed her own unease. The attack felt wrong, too deliberate, as if drawn to the village—or to her. "I don't owe you answers," she said, her voice low. "Leave, or we'll see how strong your runes are."
Hana's smile faded, her staff glowing brighter. "Last chance, fox. Tell me what you know, or I'll bind you here and now."
Before Suyeon could respond, a low rumble shook the ground. The air grew thick, heavy with a new scent—sulfur and decay, sharper than the demon's. The trees swayed, though no wind stirred them, and a shadow moved in the distance, too large, too fast. Suyeon's tails twitched beneath her spell, her instincts screaming. Another demon. Stronger. Closer.
Hana's runes dimmed, her eyes widening as she turned toward the sound. "What is that?" she whispered, her voice betraying a flicker of fear.
Suyeon glanced at Jinwoo, his sword now fully drawn, his face pale but resolute. "Trouble," she said, her foxfire flaring to life. "Stay behind me, both of you." She didn't wait for their protests. The shadow surged closer, its form indistinct but massive, its presence a blade against her senses. Haeryong's flames were no accident, and neither was this. Something was hunting her, and Jinwoo and Hana were caught in its path. As the forest trembled and the shadow roared, Suyeon braced herself, her curse burning in her chest, her secrets heavier than ever.