JUNGKOOK'S POV

Obsession | Addiction.

There is just a fine line between these words —feelings.

And it takes just as fine time for one's small obsession to turn into a marvelous addiction.

I was addicted.

While obsession is not wrong, addiction is. It can turn one into a harmful beast to achieve what they desire.

While I'm already a beast, I wonder how much harmful will I become?

To achieve such a desire is to unleash the most darkest parts of you.

And I will kill anyone who steps near her.

Her brown siren eyes haunted me ever since our first encounter. The memories of that night replayed in my mind like fragmented flashes of light, leaving me restless, as though her gaze had drugged me with its venomous allure.

The way her eyes glared at me—fearless and unyielding—drove me to madness, their power unmatched, radiating a silent defiance.

Her warm tears betrayed her vulnerability, yet those same eyes burned with flames of anger. They were a paradox—innocence intertwined with unwavering hope.

Those eyes... they make me want to sin, to claim her in the dirtiest ways imaginable.

Her perfect waist, fitting effortlessly into my hands, still left a lingering heat on my palms, like an eternal flame branding me with the memory of her touch. Every thought of her burned my skin anew, igniting an unquenchable desire.

And those lips—rosy, trembling beneath the weight of my sharp gaze—they torment me endlessly. I crave to know their taste. Would they be sweet and warm, like a forbidden nectar? Or cold and bitter, like a cruel truth?

It burned within me—a fury I couldn’t explain. I’ve seen every kind of woman. I’ve had them fall to their knees, surrendering to my presence with nothing but a glance. Yet, her... What was it about her? Why was I willing to wage wars and set kingdoms ablaze just to claim her?

Women more beautiful than her have shared my bed. They gave me their bodies, their whispers of devotion, yet not one of them ever lingered in my mind. But she? She’s a storm in my subconscious, ruling it as though it were her throne. And I haven’t even touched her, not truly. How could she have such power over me?

The anger twisted in my chest, blending with something darker, more primal. I wanted her beneath me, now. I wanted to see those defiant, intoxicating eyes looking up at me, filled with the realization that she belonged to me and no one else.

Her scent—how could something so simple drive me mad? It clung to my thoughts, as if I were a starving lion yearning for the blood of its prey.

And still, I waited.

Desperate yet hungry to hunt, I was patiently waiting for the right time.

The hunger was unbearable, the desperation clawing at me, but I waited.

It was nothing difficult for me to get her here right now and make her mine forever.

I waited because she deserved more than impatience, more than the force I could so easily summon to make her mine.

Because she is the kind of woman I would give my patience to.

Perhaps that's how she was made —delicately.

Perhaps that's how she should be treated —gently.

If you go forceful on her, she would shatter like glass.

That's the kind of woman she is to me.

She rules over my mind and then demands my patience, which I pathetically give her.

——This was my obsession.

A beautiful, maddening obsession that I could neither escape nor control. And I didn’t want to.

But power and patience—they’re natural enemies.

Power bows to no one, least of all to patience. It is untamed, independent, and terrifyingly dangerous because it demands immediacy. No waiting. No restraint.

And her power over me—her intoxicating hold—demanded action. Immediate action.

The frustration clawed at me. Getting hard under my pants just from the thought of her wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

It demanded to see her, to meet her, to speak to her, to touch her, to fvck her, to dominate her, to erase every distance between us, to bring two kingdoms together, to get her in my fist and force her inside until she crumbles under my touch.

The desperation coursed through me like madness—wild, thrilling, and dangerous. And yet, I reveled in it.

But I was scared, too.

Because if I ignored this hunger—this relentless ache for her—I wasn’t sure what I might do. The devastation I could unleash upon the world didn’t scare me. What scared me was that I’d enjoy it. That her absence could drive me to destroy everything, just to quiet the storm inside me.

This wasn’t an obsession anymore.

——This was my addiction.

And that's why, I slipped into her father’s kingdom under the cloak of midnight, the air sharp and quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

The moon hung high above, a silent witness to my intrusion. Lamps burned brightly along the streets, their glow an empty gesture of vigilance in a kingdom where soldiers guarded like donkeys—lazy, oblivious, and utterly blind.

It was almost insulting how easy it was to sneak past them. There’s no thrill in hiding when your opponent doesn’t even know you’re there. No challenge. Just boredom.

Destroying this kingdom would rank low on my list of conquests, but I couldn’t deny the convenience of their incompetence. They were making my job far too easy tonight.

This wasn’t just any raid, though. I was here because of Min Yoongi—a ruler whose peculiar habits were as infamous as his cunning. He had a taste for collecting the small and weak, binding them to his name as if that made him stronger. Pathetic, but a promise is a promise.

I owed him this. For now.

Still, the true reason for my presence lingered in the back of my mind like an unspoken secret. The last time I was here, I met her. Third floor. A fleeting moment etched into my memory like a scar.

So, I took it as a sign—a clue to where I’d find her again. Without hesitation, I began scaling the wall, my hands gripping the stone with practiced ease, my eyes scanning the windows above for a glimpse of her.

Every step I climbed felt like closing the distance between me and the madness she’d planted within me. A madness I could no longer ignore.

“Yaaa! Hmm! Yes!” a voice burst into the night air from the window just above my head.

It wasn’t just any voice—it was hers. Energetic yet laced with exhaustion, fiery yet sweet. My grip tightened against the cold stone as I hoisted myself higher, peeking through the open window.

And there she was. My strong, foolish princess. A smirk spread across my face as I watched her. She was swinging a heavy sword with all the might her small frame could muster, her form far from elegant, her movements both clumsy and determined.

“What was his name again?” she muttered, panting as she clutched the hilt of the sword. “Jeon Jungkook? I’ll kill him!” she exclaimed, twirling with a dramatic flair.

In her enthusiasm, the sword slipped from her grip and clattered across the room, leaving her to collapse onto the bed like a hopeless dreamer who had bitten off more than she could chew.

I rolled my eyes, unimpressed by her empty threats.

“Jeon Jungkook, don’t you dare come near me,” she muttered, her voice softer now as exhaustion claimed her. Seconds later, she drifted off into slumber, oblivious to the devil lurking just outside her window.

That’s rude, Yesol.

You cannot dance infront of the devil and ask him to keep his hands away.

I stayed there for a moment longer, watching her, my smirk fading into something softer. She had no idea how close I already was, no idea how badly I wanted to close the distance entirely.

But patience is a virtue, and she was worth every second of my wait. For now.

I climbed up effortlessly and perched myself on the windowsill, the night breeze brushing against my skin. The doors to her chamber were wide open, revealing her small, peaceful frame sprawled across the bed, fast asleep.

No worry. No fear. Just… sleeping, as if the world outside wasn’t filled with dangers ready to devour her.

She truly was an unpredictable woman. One moment, she’s wielding a sword with fiery determination, promising to kill me, and the next, she leaves her windows wide open, completely vulnerable, as if daring the universe—or me—to test her.

My gaze shifted momentarily to the Gulmohar tree just outside her window, its branches adorned with a quaint little treehouse. A secret hideaway, nestled in the heart of the palace grounds. So, my fierce little princess had a tender side after all. The thought brought an amused smirk to my face.

Adorable. Too adorable.

But as my eyes returned to her, something changed. The chaos within me, the storm of desires, the raging hunger—it all quieted. The monsters inside me, the darkness that thrived on destruction, fell into a rare stillness.

She had that effect on me.

She was like a rose in a graveyard; beautiful, but in the wrong place.

The place she calls heaven, her sanctuary of warmth and comfort, is nothing more than a facade. A golden cage, no matter how beautiful, remains a cage.

If I couldn’t change her world, I’d simply drag her into mine. Because she was mine, whether she knew it yet or not.

She wasn’t born to be a sheltered princess locked away behind polished walls. Her soul carried the potential of a queen, her veins coursed with the blood of a warrior. The fire within her wasn’t meant to be smothered by the expectations of a fragile title. That fire could either illuminate the lives of millions or reduce the entire world to ashes—her choice would shape her destiny.

That’s why she belonged with me.

Only I could see the raging tempest hidden behind her innocent demeanor. Only I could give her the freedom to embrace her strength and wield her fire unapologetically.

Kim Seokjin? He didn’t deserve her in any way. His hands were too undeserving, too fragile to handle the intensity of someone like her. He would clip her wings and confine her to a life of mediocrity, a life that was beneath her worth.

But as my thoughts consumed me, a question lingered in the back of my mind, stubborn and unwelcome:

Was I the only one who saw this?

Did anyone else see the queen she could become, the fire she carried, or the power she held?

And even if they did, would they dare to take her from me?

I jumped inside the bedroom, she did not even flinch. With each gradual step I reached her unbothered figure.

<<Time skip>>

As I traced delicate patterns on her hand, she mumbled in her sleep, "You will never have me, Jeon Jungkook."

I chuckled softly, leaning closer. "Too bad, princess. I always get what I want," I whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Moments later, she stirred awake, gasping for breath. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her face damp with beads of sweat from a haunting nightmare. Alone in her bedroom, she glanced around, her wide eyes scanning for the shadow of the devil from her dreams. Me.

From the vantage of her treehouse, I watched her every move, the tremor in her hands betraying the fear she carried. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her silk gown, her gaze suddenly freezing on her wrist where something felt... off.

你
属
于
我

"You belong to me," she whispered the words shakily, her voice barely audible as dread coursed through her. Her fearful eyes darted to the window, sensing my invisible presence, the weight of my gaze pressing down on her like a storm.

"Who did this? Who did this?!" she cried, desperation creeping into her voice as she furiously tried to erase the inked mark from her skin. Her fingers rubbed against it until her wrist turned red, but my mark stayed. Permanent.

Realizing her efforts were futile, she stumbled toward the door, likely to find water, panic evident in her every step.

This is where the real fun begins.

Yesol screamed, collapsing onto the floor as she scrambled backward, her trembling hands clawing at the ground to put distance between her and the mirror. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs echoing in the cold, silent room.

That’s when I saw it—the raw, unfiltered fear surfacing in her wide, brown eyes. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths, her body trembling as if the very air around her weighed her down. She looked fragile, powerless, and utterly consumed by my shadow.

She was terrified. It was pleasing.

"I am coming for you," the words glared back at her from the mirror, scrawled in vivid, blood-red ink.

The room erupted with chaos as the maids rushed inside, their own gasps of horror cutting through the tense silence.

"Who came in here?" she demanded between hiccuping sobs, her voice strained, as though her lungs might collapse under the pressure of her terror.

"We... we were just outside, Princess! No one entered!" one of the maids stammered, their faces as pale as ghosts.

"Then how do you explain this?" she screamed, gesturing toward the damning words on the mirror. Her voice broke, her breaths shallow and ragged, her entire being teetering on the brink of collapse.

The scene was pure perfection. The confusion, the tears, the trembling, the shrieks—it was a symphony of fear, and I relished every note. The sight of her unraveling before my invisible presence, her panic igniting the room like a wildfire, was a satisfaction I couldn’t resist.

I like her when she's scared of me.

__________________________

YESOL'S POV:

The physician pressed his fingers gently to my wrist, checking my pulse as I lay in bed, trapped by the weight of fever and cold. My body burned, the heat sapping every ounce of strength, leaving my eyelids heavy and unwilling to open.

L

ast night was a terrible nightmare; or I wish it was a nightmare.

The evidence lingered in the waking world. The mark on my wrist, the fresh ink on the mirror, the whispered threats that still echoed in my ears. And him. The devil from my nightmares, Jeon Jungkook—he was real. Terrifyingly real.

At this point, he feels like the only reality. The rest of us? Merely his pawns. Puppets tangled in the strings of a story he seems to script effortlessly.

A cold shiver crawls down my spine, chills spreading through my body despite the fever. His image is seared into my mind, haunting me every time I close my eyes. Those dark, sharp eyes—they weren’t just looking at me; they were consuming me, burning through my defenses with a single, piercing gaze.

That night, his presence froze me in place, as though the very air around him was laced with death. He looked like a grim reaper, cloaked in an aura so cold it could turn hearts to ice. And his mission seemed clear—to take me.

Since that night, the nightmares haven’t stopped. Every time I fall asleep, he’s there. Lurking. Watching. Waiting. No matter how much I try to steal myself, the fear takes over. I’m terrified.

What if he comes for me again? What if he drags me into the darkness he carries so effortlessly?

Does he look as hideous as he appears in my dreams?

Is he as inhuman as everyone defines him?

The mere thought of him makes me sick. My stomach twists, my skin pales, and my heart races like prey cornered by a predator.

"Your blood pressure is very low, Your Highness," the physician said, his voice filled with quiet concern as he gently laid my hand back on the bed. "I suggest you avoid traveling for now. You need rest."

"How can we avoid travel?" Jimin oraboni chimed in, his voice flat and uncaring. "It's her wedding the day after tomorrow. Just give her something to stabilize her for the day," he ordered, dismissing my health as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience.

What more could I expect from him? My family had always been distant, concerned only with appearances and status.

I'd long since lost anyone who truly cared for me.

And now, the only one left by my side was Seokjin. If only he knew how bad things had gotten, he would’ve fought to cancel our wedding, just to make sure I was okay. But instead, here I was, alone in my suffering, with no one willing to put my well-being above their own agendas.

"As you say, Your Highness," the physician responded, his tone unsure but obedient.

"How could she suddenly fall so sick?" My mother's voice trembled beside me, her hand gently caressing my forehead as if that could somehow make me feel better.

The warmth of her touch didn’t comfort me, not when I knew the truth. Immediately after discovering the mark on the mirror, I ordered my maids to erase every trace of it. The tattoo on my wrist, the letter that had come for me—I hid them all away.

I had an idea of who might be behind it all, considering the current tensions between the kingdoms, but I still had no solid proof. And I couldn’t risk it. One wrong word, one slip of the tongue, and everything would spiral into chaos. I couldn’t afford that, especially not now.

So, I kept everything hidden. I kept my suspicions to myself.

The truth of what happened, the danger I was in, was mine to bear alone. Because, in the end, they would never understand. They’d never accept the truth of what I was facing.

And so, hiding it was the only solution. The only way to keep the peace.

_______________________

"Your Majesty!" I called out to Seokjin as he stood by the lake outside the palace, the cool breeze rustling through the trees.

The moment I stepped outside, my first thought was to find him. I wanted to tell him everything—everything that had happened to me in these past days. The fear, the strange events, the feeling that something darker was lurking behind it all. I didn’t want to keep any secrets from him. I had to share it all.

He turned at the sound of my voice, his eyes widening with concern. "Yesol," he said softly, his voice filled with worry. "How are you feeling now? I heard you fell sick."

So he knew? He knew about my condition, yet I hadn’t heard from him. No letters, no visits—nothing. I was pulled here without his presence, without his comfort. The realization stung more than I expected.

But then again, maybe he was busy.

I couldn’t expect him to drop everything for me. He was the King. He had his responsibilities, his kingdom, his people to tend to.

I shouldn’t be upset over something so small. I couldn’t let myself be selfish.

I forced a smile, though it felt weak and strained, my pale face betraying the exhaustion I felt inside.

"I think you’ve caught a jinx, that’s why I shifted the date to tomorrow. You’ll get better after our marriage; you’re taking your medicine, right?" Seokjin murmured, caressing my face gently, his touch soft yet filled with a subtle concern I couldn’t ignore.

I nodded, though the lie felt thick on my tongue. I didn’t believe in the jinx, but I didn’t want him to worry further. I needed him to believe everything would be fine.

I hated this sickness more than anything. If I could get rid of it just by marrying him, then I would. But deep down, I knew there was more to it.

"That is not why I fell sick," I whispered, my lips trembling with the weight of what I was about to say. This was the truth I had been keeping locked away—hidden even from him.

Seokjin’s face fell, his brows furrowing in confusion. I could see the shift in him, the sudden tension building in the space between us.

I slid up my sleeve slowly, my heart hammering in my chest. My breath hitched as I revealed the mark—the inked words that had haunted me, marking me as someone else's possession.

His eyes widened in shock and anger as he took hold of my wrist in a firm grip, pulling me closer. "What is this?" he asked, his voice low and sharp. I could hear the anger building in him, his pulse quickening with each passing second.

"Yesol, I asked—what is this?" he repeated, his voice rising with each word, the anger lacing his tone now unmistakable.

I flinched at the sound of his raised voice, the sudden intensity sending a jolt of fear through me. For the first time, he wasn’t the calm, composed Seokjin I knew. The gentleness I once felt from him now felt like a distant memory.

"Seokjin, I—I don’t know," I stammered, my voice shaking with fear and confusion. "I don’t know how it got there…"

"How come you don’t know?! Yesol, it’s right on your wrist and you’re saying you don’t know who did this?!" Seokjin’s voice was full of anger, his grip tightening painfully around my wrist.

I winced, my arm feeling like it was being crushed in his vice-like grip. "Seokjin, your hold... it’s hurting my arm!" I cried out, desperately trying to free myself from his tightening grasp.

His eyes flashed with irritation, his gaze darkening even further. "When did you get this?" he demanded, his voice low and sharp.

"Last night..." I sniffled, trying to control my sobs. "I was sleeping, and then someone broke into my room and did this..."

"Who?" he asked, his voice now tight with frustration, his hand still gripping my wrist with painful force.

"I don’t know, but this all started after the Jeons—" I wiped away my tears, my voice breaking.

"Jeon Jungkook..." Seokjin’s name came out in a venomous whisper, his grip suffocating my wrist even more, making my eyes fill with fresh tears.

"My hand..." I whimpered, feeling the skin burn where his fingers were digging into me.

"You’ve seen him, right?" Seokjin's voice was menacing now, his fury evident in every syllable.

"No," I mumbled, shaking my head desperately, hoping he would believe me.

"Lie!" His eyes were fiery with rage as he spat the accusation at me.

"Seokjin, don’t you believe me?" I cried out, my voice full of pain, my chest tight with fear. The words felt like they were suffocating me, but I had to speak the truth. I wanted him to trust me, but I felt like I was losing him with every word I said.

Without warning, Seokjin yanked my hand away from him, his fingers dragging across my skin with a force that made me gasp in pain. I staggered back, my body trembling from the force of his pull.

Everything inside me screamed to get away, to flee from his rage, but I couldn’t move. The pain in my wrist was nothing compared to the emptiness that was growing between us. The distance felt like a chasm, and I was standing at the edge, teetering on the brink of losing everything.

Seokjin's fury seemed to consume the space around us, his words laced with accusation and bitterness. "Why did you not erase it already? To show me how better your lover is at marking you as his?!" His voice thundered in the room, and each word cut deeper than the last.

I stumbled back, my mind spinning. "What? I don't even know what you're talking about?!" I said, my voice trembling with confusion. "Why are you behaving like it’s my fault?"

The words felt foreign coming from him, harsh and completely out of place. How had we gotten here? I had never imagined that the one person I thought would trust me would turn on me like this.

He didn’t believe me.

I could feel it in the air, thick with mistrust. And as the realization sank in, the pain cut through me sharper than his words ever could. I thought that, out of all people, Seokjin would be the one who believed me. I thought I was safe with him, that our bond would be enough to keep us grounded. But now, nothing feels secure anymore.

The weight of his accusations and his anger made me question everything.

Am I still in love with him? Even at this instant?

I love him. Am I lying to myself?

I love him. I'm just upset.

I love him. He's the only one I have.

I love him. Because if I lose him, I lose everything.

I love him. I kept repeating it in my mind like a mantra, trying to hold onto something familiar, something that had once made me feel safe. But how could I love him like this? How could I love someone who looked at me with suspicion, who believed the worst in me?

"...I'm sorry," he murmured, the words laced with an unfamiliar sincerity that made my heart ache. But was it real? Was it the Seokjin I had known, or just another mask he was wearing?

His tone softened, as if he was the Seokjin I had fallen in love with all over again. But even as he spoke those words, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed irreparably between us.

His gaze turned away from me, his back now facing me, as he fixated on the lake in front of him. "Head inside, you should get some rest," he said, his voice gentle, but distant, like he was trying to put distance between us.

I nodded, barely able to respond, my mind racing. I didn't know who had marked me or why, but I knew one thing for certain: this moment—this shift in Seokjin’s behavior—had fractured something deep inside me. Whoever had done this, whoever had orchestrated this chaos, had forced me to witness a side of Seokjin that I had never seen before. And for that, I would never forgive them.

It wasn’t just the physical mark on my wrist that haunted me anymore. It was the darkness they had planted between us, the seeds of doubt they had sown in Seokjin’s heart. They had taken something beautiful—something fragile—and shattered it.

And as I watched Seokjin’s back, feeling the weight of his apology in the air, I knew that this wasn’t over. Whoever had done this, they had torn something apart that couldn’t be easily fixed.

I would never forgive them.

____________________________

A/N: I hope nobody is confused. And there are some parts that I've written in a way that would confuse you guys, like the past flashbacks and the mention of past in between present. Don't worry, I did that on purpose and I'm going to explain about it in the future through coming chapters and pov's.

|| VOTE || COMMENT ||