Suyeon's breath rasped in her throat as she led Jinwoo and Hana through the forest, the weight of the yeomma's attack still clinging to her like damp fog. Her arm throbbed where the creature's claw had grazed her, the dark burn pulsing with a divine malice that resisted her foxfire's touch. Her nine tails, now hidden beneath a straining cloaking spell, ached with the effort of the battle, their silver energy depleted to a flicker. The curse in her chest beat like a war drum, its rhythm a constant reminder of the pact that had summoned the yeomma—a pact she'd made a thousand years ago, its terms shrouded in memory but its consequences now clawing at her heels. The forest was silent, the stars above cold and distant, but Suyeon felt no peace. The yeomma was gone, but its words lingered: *Your soul, or theirs.*
Jinwoo followed close behind, his limp more pronounced, his bloodied bandage a stark contrast against his torn hanbok. His sword was sheathed, but his hand rested on its hilt, his amber-flecked eyes scanning the trees for threats. Hana trailed at a distance, her staff tapping the ground, its runes dim but ready. Her gray eyes flicked between Suyeon and the shadows, her suspicion a palpable weight. The exorcist hadn't bound her, hadn't struck when she was weak, but Suyeon knew better than to trust that mercy. Exorcists were hunters, and she was prey—always had been, always would be.
"We can't keep running blind," Hana said, her voice cutting through the night's stillness. "That yeomma wasn't a random attack. It was sent for you, Kumiho. If you know why, speak now, or we're all dead when the next one comes."
Suyeon didn't turn, her steps quickening over roots and moss. "I don't owe you answers," she said, her voice sharp, though her arm's pain made it waver. "You want to survive? Keep up and stay quiet." She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed distance from Haeryong, from the yeomma's ashes, from Jinwoo's reckless oath. But the forest seemed to conspire against her, its paths twisting, the air growing heavier with each step.
Jinwoo's voice broke her thoughts. "She's right, Suyeon. That thing called you by name. It knew you." He caught up, his breath labored but his gaze steady. "You can't keep running from this. Not alone."
She whirled, her eyes flashing gold before she forced them back to brown. "And you can't keep following me," she snapped. "You swore an oath, fine. But it doesn't mean you get to pry into my past. You don't know me, Jinwoo. You don't know what I've done." Her voice cracked, memories of blood and betrayal surfacing—villages burned, lives taken, all before she'd learned to leash her nature. She'd sworn to live quietly, to be Yuna, but the pact had always been there, waiting.
Jinwoo's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. "Maybe I don't know you," he said, his voice low, firm. "But I know what I saw. You fought for us. You could've let that thing kill me, kill Hana, but you didn't. That's enough for now."
Hana snorted, her staff tapping harder. "Romantic, warrior, but naive. She's a Kumiho. Her kind thrives on manipulation. That 'heroic' act could be a lure to keep you close." She stepped forward, her runes flaring briefly. "I'm not here for your heart, fox. I want the truth. Why is a divine hunter after you?"
Suyeon's claws twitched, her foxfire stirring despite her exhaustion. "Keep pushing, exorcist, and you'll find out what I'm capable of." But her threat felt hollow. The yeomma's words echoed: *The pact demands it.* She didn't know the full truth herself, only fragments—a desperate bargain with a god, a promise to forsake her humanity for power, a curse that bound her soul. She'd buried it, convinced herself it was dormant, but the yeomma's attack proved otherwise. Something was waking, and it wanted her.
Before Hana could retort, the forest shifted. The air grew cold, mist curling up from the ground like ghostly fingers. The trees parted, revealing a stone path lined with ancient lanterns, their flames flickering green and unnatural. Suyeon froze, her senses flaring. The path led to a shrine, its silhouette barely visible through the fog—a crumbling structure of moss-covered stone, its roof sagging under centuries of neglect. The air hummed with power, old and divine, the kind that made her tails itch beneath her spell.
"What is this place?" Jinwoo asked, his voice hushed, his hand tightening on his sword.
Hana's eyes narrowed, her runes glowing brighter. "A shrine to Inari," she said, her tone wary. "Or something older. The energy here is… wrong." She glanced at Suyeon. "You led us here. Why?"
"I didn't," Suyeon said, her voice low. She hadn't meant to come this way, but the forest had guided her, its paths bending to this destination. The curse pulsed, sharper now, as if recognizing the shrine. She stepped onto the path, the lanterns flaring brighter, their green flames casting eerie shadows. "Stay here if you're scared," she said, glancing back at them. "I'm going in."
Jinwoo followed without hesitation, his limp slowing him but his resolve unshaken. "Not a chance," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "You're not facing this alone."
Hana hesitated, then followed, her staff raised. "If this is a trap, fox, you'll regret it," she muttered, but her voice lacked its earlier venom. The shrine's power was affecting her too, Suyeon could tell—the exorcist's runes flickered, as if struggling against the divine energy.
The path wound through the mist, the lanterns' light guiding them to the shrine's entrance. Its wooden gates were carved with foxes, their eyes inlaid with jade that seemed to watch them. Suyeon's curse burned, a searing pain that forced a gasp from her lips. She clutched her chest, her cloaking spell wavering, a single tail flickering into view before she forced it back. Jinwoo's hand reached for her, but she pulled away, her eyes fixed on the shrine.
Inside, the air was heavy, thick with the scent of incense and decay. A stone altar stood at the center, its surface etched with runes older than Suyeon's curse. A statue loomed above it—a fox with nine tails, its eyes glowing with the same green fire as the lanterns. The curse flared again, and Suyeon staggered, her vision blurring. Memories surged—flashes of a temple, a god's voice, a bargain sealed in blood. She'd stood here before, centuries ago, when she'd made the pact. This was no shrine to Inari. This was a prison for her kind.
"Suyeon!" Jinwoo's voice cut through the haze, his hand gripping her arm. "What's happening?"
She shook him off, her voice hoarse. "This place… it's tied to my curse." She stepped toward the altar, her foxfire flickering unbidden, illuminating the runes. They pulsed, resonating with her power, and the statue's eyes flared brighter, its gaze pinning her like a spear.
Hana's staff glowed, her voice sharp. "This is a binding shrine," she said, her eyes wide. "Built to trap spirits like you. Why would you come here?"
"I didn't choose this," Suyeon snapped, her hands trembling as she traced the runes. They were familiar, etched into her soul the day she'd made the pact. "The forest brought me. The curse brought me." Her voice wavered, fear creeping in. The yeomma's attack, the shrine's pull—it was all connected. The god she'd bargained with was calling her back.
Before anyone could speak, the shrine trembled. The lanterns outside flared, their green flames roaring skyward. A voice echoed, not in the air but in Suyeon's mind, cold and ancient: "You cannot hide, Kumiho. The pact is due." The altar cracked, and a shadow rose from its surface—not a yeomma, but something smaller, sleeker, its form a mirror of Suyeon's true shape. A fox, black as night, with nine tails and eyes like burning coals.
Jinwoo drew his sword, stepping in front of Suyeon. "What is that?" he demanded, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes.
Hana's runes blazed, her staff raised. "A shadow fox," she said, her voice tight. "A fragment of divine will. It's here to enforce the pact."
Suyeon's heart raced, her foxfire flaring despite her exhaustion. The shadow fox lunged, its tails lashing like whips. She dodged, her own tails breaking free, their silver light clashing with the creature's darkness. Jinwoo swung his sword, but the blade passed through the fox like smoke, its form reforming instantly. Hana's talisman burned, binding the creature's tails, but it broke free, its eyes fixed on Suyeon.
"You cannot run," it hissed, its voice a chorus of whispers. "The god demands your soul."
Suyeon's claws extended, her nine tails blazing. "Tell your god I'm not ready to die," she snarled, unleashing a wave of foxfire. The shrine shook, the shadow fox dissolving under the assault, but its laughter echoed, a promise of return. The altar's runes dimmed, the lanterns outside flickering out, leaving the shrine in darkness.
Suyeon collapsed, her tails fading, her body trembling. Jinwoo caught her, his arms steady despite his own wounds. "Suyeon, talk to me," he said, his voice urgent.
She pushed him away, her breath ragged. "This isn't your fight," she said, but her voice lacked conviction. The shrine, the shadow fox, the pact—they were closing in, and Jinwoo and Hana were caught in their web.
Hana lowered her staff, her eyes softer now, though still wary. "You can't keep running," she said. "Whatever you did, whatever this pact is, it's not just about you anymore."
Suyeon's gaze flicked between them, her curse a weight she couldn't shed. The shrine was silent, but its power lingered, a reminder that her past was no longer buried. With Jinwoo's oath and Hana's scrutiny, she was no longer alone—but that might be the most dangerous thing of all.