Y/N'S POV

"Come on, swing at me!" Eunwoo bellowed, his voice sharp and calculated, meant to provoke. It worked. The simmering frustration within me bubbled over, and I took a measured step back before surging toward him once more.

My fists flew, one after the other, each punch delivered with precision and force. But Eunwoo, ever the seasoned fighter, raised his forearms, expertly deflecting every blow. I paused for a moment to catch my breath, and he seized the opportunity, aiming an uppercut toward me. Yet, before his fist could connect, I caught his wrist mid-air. His eyes widened, realization dawning too late—he had made a grave mistake.

With a swift turn of my back and an iron grip on his wrist, I leveraged my strength and flung him over my shoulder. He landed with a thud, flat on his back, his surprised expression meeting the unforgiving ground. I released him, offering a hand to help him up as he scowled at me, though his mock annoyance was betrayed by the smirk tugging at his lips.

"I was just going easy on you because Jungkook said so," he huffed, brushing off the dirt from his pants.

"Of course, you were," I replied, rolling my eyes with a playful grin.

"I'm serious! Plus, you’ve got those bird powers and all that fancy stuff," he retorted, gesturing vaguely toward my wings. I nodded in acknowledgment, unwilling to argue the obvious.

As I walked away from the sparring crowd, I swiped at the beads of sweat gathering on my brow. My oversized jumper clung uncomfortably to my skin, serving its purpose as a shield to hide the marks littering my neck—evidence of Jungkook’s overzealous affection. If I’d known hickeys lingered so long, I might’ve thought twice before letting him get carried away that night.

After slipping into a sweatshirt in the privacy of the restroom, I avoided the curious gazes of onlookers by slipping out of a bathroom window. The air was brisk against my skin as I stretched my wings, reveling in the freedom they offered. These wings had brought with them not just flight but an array of enhanced abilities. Knife-throwing had become second nature, and my hand-to-hand combat skills were among the best.

Most days, while Jungkook was buried in work, I filled my time sparring with trainees in the gym. Though Jungkook had instructed them to go easy on me, I made sure they forgot his orders before we began. The results were varied—I won some, lost some—but every match sharpened my edge.

Yet, my real focus lies in learning to fly—properly. I trained alone, away from Jungkook’s watchful eyes. He wouldn’t approve, which only added to the thrill of my clandestine sessions. Deep within the forest, I found a sanctuary to test my limits, unburdened by judgment. My loyal trio of dogs always accompanied me, their eager eyes fixed on my every move.

They’d watch intently as I tried to lift off the ground, their excited barks spurring me on. When I succeeded, even for mere moments, they’d chase after me, nipping playfully at my heels, as if encouraging me to stay airborne. When I landed, they’d sit patiently, allowing me to rest before I tried again.

Jungkook was away on a trip today, leaving me with precious hours to practice uninterrupted. Taking a deep breath, I spread my wings wide, their beige feathers shimmering under the dappled sunlight. With a powerful jump, I propelled myself upward, my wings flapping furiously. For a fleeting moment, I hovered above the ground, my heart soaring with exhilaration—until gravity reclaimed me.

The dogs barked in celebration of my small victory, their wagging tails a testament to their unwavering support. I laughed, their joy infectious, but the sound caught in my throat as an unsettling presence crept up behind me. A chill danced down my spine as a finger lightly traced along my back. I whirled around, my breath hitching as my eyes locked onto a pair of molten gold irises.

"What are you doing out here alone?" Jungkook’s voice was as cold and steady as a blade.

"Jungkook!" I exclaimed, forcing a nervous smile as I clasped my hands together. His expression remained unreadable, his gaze piercing.

"How long have you been watching me?" I asked, feigning nonchalance as I hovered just above the ground, inching backward in a futile attempt to escape his scrutiny.

"Long enough," he said with a sigh, effortlessly pulling me back to the ground.

The dogs circled protectively at my feet, their growls a low warning. I chuckled at their loyalty, but Jungkook paid them no mind. "Why are you out here flying alone?" His tone was stern, laced with concern.

"Oh, I don’t know," I replied dryly, crossing my arms. "Maybe because I don’t want people seeing these?" I gestured to the hickeys adorning my neck and collarbone, my words dripping with sarcasm.

A slow, smug grin spread across his face. "I don’t know. I quite like them," he teased, pulling me closer.

I scoffed, playfully shoving him away, but his ebony wings curled around me, drawing me back into his embrace. His laughter was soft, infectious, as he leaned in, our noses brushing.

"Promise me you’ll tell me next time," he murmured, his voice a quiet plea.

I nodded, stepping back and flaring my wings once more. "How about you see how much I’ve improved?" I challenged, floating just inches from his face. "Care for a game of tag?"

"Oh, you’re on," he said, his eyes darkening with determination as he unfurled his massive raven wings. "Twenty-second head start."

I didn’t wait for a second longer, zipping through the dense forest. Trees blurred past me as I tangled my wings, navigating narrow gaps with ease.

The sound of his wings was absent, and curiosity got the better of me. Rising above the treetops, I scanned the horizon. A shadow loomed—a black blur hurtling toward me. Heart racing, I dove back into the forest, Jungkook hot on my trail.

His larger wings struggled to maneuver through the tightly packed trees, and I laughed, glancing back at his frustrated expression. "Guess I’m better after all," I teased, fluttering closer as he gripped the trees like prison bars.

"Agility isn’t my strong suit, Angel," he admitted, his voice tinged with mock defeat.

Before I could react, he yanked me between the trees, trapping me against his chest. "But I still got you," he gloated, his boyish grin lighting up his face.

We descended to the ground, his arm slung possessively around my waist. I rolled my eyes, attempting to break free, but his grip tightened.

"No victory kiss?" he pouted.

"Not now, Jungkook," I chided, a smirk playing on my lips. "Didn’t you say we have a meeting?"

He groaned, nodding reluctantly. "Yes, unfortunately."

As we walked back, his fingers brushed against mine, a quiet reminder of the bond we shared.

★——★

As we approached the mansion, the grandeur of its façade loomed over the terrace, where a fleet of luxury cars lined the drive. Unfamiliar faces, many adorned with expressions of thinly veiled disdain, turned toward me. Their gazes were sharp, judgmental, and unapologetic—guests, I presumed, though hardly hospitable.

I could feel their silent whispers, the weight of their opinions heavy in the air. Some had reluctantly accepted my position as queen, while others found it deplorable that Jungkook had chosen a woman to stand beside him in this ruthless world. Their sneers spoke volumes, but they were mere “lowers”—the insignificant ranks. I could beat any one of them in a fight without breaking a sweat.

Jungkook led me through the grand corridors to the conference room. The moment we stepped inside, the temperature seemed to drop. Every sour expression was fixed on me, the distaste almost palpable. Yet, I didn’t falter. I met each glare head-on, locking eyes with the detractors as if daring them to speak. My defiance took them by surprise, their confidence wavering under my gaze.

Jungkook claimed the head of the table, as expected of the leader of the most formidable gang. The others were seated according to rank, the hierarchy evident in their positioning. I stationed myself behind him, leaning casually against the wall, my eyes scanning the room with calculated precision.

The meeting progressed with the usual discussions and posturing. While the dialogue droned on, I exchanged quiet words with Eunwoo, who stood nearby in his capacity as Jungkook's second-in-command. His presence was a safeguard, an ever-watchful sentinel ensuring his boss's safety.

Everything was routine until I felt it—an unsettling gaze lingering on me far too long. My eyes swept the room until they locked onto a man seated a few places down the table. Min Suga.

Suga was the leader of the second-most powerful gang, though his influence was waning. With no heir to succeed him, his empire was crumbling, and the desperation clung to him like a stench. As our gazes met, his lips curled into a smug, greasy grin that revealed a flash of gold teeth. He turned to Jungkook, muttering something under his breath, just loud enough for me to catch fragments.

"What did you do to bag a whore like that, Jeon?"

The words hit me like a whip. My head snapped toward Jungkook, who was already glaring at Suga. If looks could kill, Suga would have been lifeless on the spot. But they couldn’t—so Jungkook would handle it another way soon enough. I couldn’t let it escalate, not yet.

"Jealous?" I asked, my voice slicing through the tension like a blade.

The room fell silent, all eyes on me as I pushed off the wall and strode toward the table. Suga’s smirk faltered, his surprise evident despite the glare he shot my way. My smile widened.

"I’m sure someone like you wouldn’t know what it’s like," I added, letting my gaze sweep over him with deliberate disdain. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching in fury, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he grit his teeth.

In a burst of anger, Suga pulled a gun, aiming it squarely between my eyes. The room tensed, and Jungkook moved instinctively to shield me, but I raised a hand to stop him.

With fluid precision, I disarmed Suga, twisting the weapon from his grip and pressing it against his temple in one swift motion. The cold steel at his head made him freeze, but his second-in-command wasn’t as hesitant. Another gun was raised, this one aimed at me.

For a tense moment, the room was suspended in silence. Then, I dropped Suga’s gun to the table with a loud clunk, the sound breaking the stillness. His guard lowered his weapon reluctantly, the hostility dissipating like smoke.

Before returning to Jungkook’s side, I leaned in close to Suga, my lips brushing his ear as I whispered something only he could hear. Whatever I said left him rigid, his face draining of color as fear replaced his bravado.

As I walked away with Jungkook and Eunwoo, a ripple of uneasy laughter broke the silence in the room. I allowed myself a small smile, leaning my head against Jungkook’s shoulder. His lips found the top of my forehead in a brief, reassuring kiss.

"I’m proud of you for standing your ground," he murmured, his voice tinged with both admiration and concern. "Just… never do it again."

I laughed softly, knowing his worry stemmed from love. Jungkook wanted to protect me, to shield me from the dangers of this world. But I needed him to see that I could stand tall, fight my own battles, and hold my own without his intervention.

We walked down the opulent halls in comfortable silence until our paths diverged. He had other matters to attend to, leaving Eunwoo to escort me back to my room.

As we neared my door, I noticed Eunwoo’s jaw clenching, the tension in his demeanor impossible to ignore. I turned to him, curiosity piqued.

"What’s bothering you?" I asked, leaning casually against the doorframe to block his escape.

He avoided my gaze, a rare display of hesitation from him. After a moment’s internal debate, he sighed and reached into his blazer, pulling out an envelope.

When he handed it to me, I recognized the handwriting instantly—playful, unmistakable pink scrawl.

"Ryujin," I muttered, and Eunwoo’s stiff nod confirmed it.

Unfolding the note, I read aloud:

"Hey, Y/n!

Sorry I couldn’t catch up with you after your party, so I was just thinking that we could have another mini party, like just with my gang and yours. You know I’m a party animal—I just need an excuse to throw one!

So how about it? I’ll convince my leader, and you convince yours. Sounds great, right?

I’ll be there at 4 to discuss.

xoxo, Ryujin"

I glanced at the clock. Two hours until her arrival. Folding the letter with a small smile, I noticed Eunwoo growing visibly agitated.

"Eunwoo, what is it?" I pressed.

He snapped out of his thoughts, shaking his head as if dismissing an unwelcome idea. "Nothing. Just… remember to stay cautious around people like Ryujin," he said, his tone guarded.

Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with the echo of his words.

People like her.

Why did everyone seem to have a problem with Ryujin?