#academy

[blueprint-9376]

30.01.2026 [🫥]

🗓: 1월 독서 결산의 날/ wrapping up my January reading

[ddalgies]

[animatesiti]

I'm very normal about them cough

Close up

[sinister-flower]

My favorite spot in the library

[clwskita]

🧁

Academy maniacs 🧸🍯

[sungminispup2017]

Crimson Fates Series ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏɴᴇ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴᴇᴅ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

masterlist

description: Decelis Academy is for myths and legends and the Seven rule it like gods. Jiyoon transfers in planning to stay invisible…until Lee Heeseung catches her scent and something ancient snaps into place. Now the school’s deadliest vampire wants what he’s never wanted before, and the bond doesn’t care if she runs. Because at Decelis, fate doesn’t ask. It claims.

Lee Heeseung x Oc Female Character

content: Supernatural world but its modern/the norm. They will make jokes about being centuries old, but they are all 19-23, born as vampires, and stop ageing at 24. They are more like humans than vampires..whoops Ni-ki actually goes to school?

warnings: Allusions to smut, um cursing, minor fight. Blood. Soulmates.

wc: 13.7k

an: I wrote this a long time ago. But I am hoping it gets more love here. The series is completed for all seven stories. So stay tuned and enjoy.

Decelis Academy stood like a carved monument to the supernatural elite, its sprawling gothic towers and silver threaded iron gates pressed into the cliffside like a castle out of time. Storm clouds drifted low overhead, casting long shadows over the academy’s pristine courtyard where marble paths glistened from the morning rain. There was no human here, no trace of the mundane. Only creatures born of dark bloodlines and cursed destinies.

The school was a nest for the gifted and the dangerous.

Inside the high arched corridors, chandeliers dripping with crystal swung gently from the ceilings. Books floated into hands, voices whispered in languages long extinct, and the scent of old paper, blood, and power filled the air.

And seated at the very back of every room, like thrones placed just above the rest of the world...were them.

The Seven.

Heeseung. Jay. Jake. Jungwon. Sunoo. Sunghoon. Ni-ki.

Their presence was thunder held in skin. And everyone felt it.

No matter where they went—classroom, courtyard, ballroom—the atmosphere shifted like the tide bending around their gravity. They were more than S-tier. They were untouchable. Impossibly handsome, cruelly intelligent, dripping in elegance and wealth that even the noble houses bowed to. Each one was carved from something ancient and immortal.

They didn’t speak to outsiders. They didn’t need to.

They were known for sitting in silence through lectures, cups of blood in hand, eyes drilling holes in walls. They didn’t need grades. Professors didn’t bother them. Rumors said the headmaster himself deferred to their bloodlines.

Today was no different.

In a circular lecture hall carved from obsidian and moonstone, students filtered in nervously, careful not to get too close to the far back row. The Seven were already there, slouched in effortless indifference, dressed in their custom tailored uniforms and varying expressions of boredom.

Heeseung sat in the center.

Eyes like winter storms, ash gray hair swept back, one leg crossed over the other, his sharp jaw resting on his hand. He hadn’t spoken since he walked in. He didn’t need to.

When Heeseung wanted something, the world tilted to give it to him. The others joked he was born to be king, but they never meant it as a joke.

Jay leaned beside him, flipping a dagger between his fingers like he might gut someone for sport if the class dragged on too long. Sunghoon had his AirPods in, music clearly playing, but his cold eyes never missed a thing. Jungwon sat like a prince: straight backed, composed, expression unreadable. He was one of the youngest, but no one dared speak to him without permission.

Jake, for once, was twirling a pen between his fingers with an expression of lazy curiosity. “Ten gold says the new fire nymph girl throws herself at you again,” he muttered to Heeseung.

Heeseung didn’t blink. “She’s boring.”

Sunoo snorted, leaning forward on his elbows. “They’re all boring.”

“I like the witch who cursed your drink last week,” Ni-ki added, voice flat. “She had guts.”

“You mean the one who ran out crying after Heeseung looked at her?” Jay laughed darkly. “Iconic.”

A few students in the front rows turned, likely pretending to search for a pencil or stretch their necks, but everyone knew the truth.

You didn’t look at the Seven.

Not for long. And definitely not with interest.

The professor entered then, robes fluttering, voice echoing as he called for attention.

The Seven didn’t move. They sat like gods watching over a temple.

Then the room shifted. It was subtle. Barely perceptible. But Heeseung’s nostrils flared.

The scent hit first rain and ink, wild and clean, like the moment before a storm slashes the earth. His jaw tightened.

“What the hell is that smell?” Sunghoon muttered, straightening. Jake sat up a little. “Whoever it is... they’re not from here.”

No one turned. The Seven never looked until it was worth it.

The professor cleared his throat again. “Before we begin, we have a new transfer student starting today.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Oh good, another cousin of a noble’s cousin’s dog.”

The professor stepped aside.

And the doors opened.

She entered without hesitation.

A girl with long, ink black hair that shimmered under the torchlight, posture proud, movements deliberate. She didn’t flinch under the dozens of eyes burning into her back. She didn’t shrink or stammer. She just walked.

The Seven didn’t know her name yet.

But Heeseung...Heeseung couldn’t stop staring.

And that pissed him off.

Heeseung didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she passed his row.

That scent cut through the blood soaked air of the hall like a blade. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, the bone grinding behind the tension in his temples. Something ancient stirred beneath his skin, something that wasn’t supposed to be awake. Not yet.

She walked past without a single glance.

Not at him. Not at any of them.

Not even Jungwon.

Who the fuck does that?

The girl moved like she belonged to no one. Her shoes didn’t even echo. Like the school itself bent under her steps and absorbed the sound in honor. Her uniform fit perfectly, but there was something off like she’d altered it subtly, like she refused to wear it the way everyone else did. A button undone at the collar. Sleeves rolled just high enough to reveal pale, veined wrists.

She didn’t look for an empty seat.

She chose one. Middle of the room, third row, center. Where every single angle in the room could see her.

“She’s ballsy,” Jake murmured, voice low, amusement lacing the syllables. “I like her.”

“She smells like trouble,” Sunghoon muttered, leaning back with narrowed eyes. “And you know I hate trouble.”

Heeseung said nothing.

Because he couldn’t. His senses were locked.

Her scent was still in the air thick now, spreading, mixing with the leather and cedar of his own bloodline. It made his stomach twist, made the tips of his fingers tingle. She was sitting still, barely even breathing, but his entire body felt like it was wired to her every movement.

Mine.

The word whispered again in his skull. A growl nearly rose in his throat.

Heeseung’s hand twitched. He slammed his palm down on the desk to stop himself.

Jay glanced at him, one brow raised. “You good, Heeseung?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped. Too fast. Too sharp, clearly he wasn't fine.

The others went quiet.

Sunoo tilted his head, lips twitching. “Interesting.”

Jake whistled under his breath. “The king’s finally cracked.”

“I said I’m fine,” Heeseung repeated, voice low and dangerous.

The professor began speaking again, lecturing on historical bloodline treaties, but Heeseung didn’t hear a word. Not a single one.

Because she still hadn’t looked at him.

Because she still hadn’t felt what he was feeling...like there was a thread, nearly invisible, pulling taut between them.

It made no sense.

There were no mating marks. No glowing symbols beneath skin. That only appeared when the bond awakened fully.

But he felt it.

He didn’t know who she was.

And yet… he felt as if he’d always known her.

She shifted slightly in her seat, and the scent hit him again; like wet ink and thunderclouds, a storm made flesh.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair slowly, muscles tight beneath his blazer, dark eyes never once leaving her.

This girl. This… transfer. She wasn’t like the others.

And Heeseung wasn’t fine.

Not at all.

The classroom buzzed with quiet chatter, papers shuffling, chairs dragging, a few bored groans as students slid into their seats. Sunlight streamed in slanted lines through the high gothic windows, dust particles dancing in the gold. The scent of blood tea lingered faintly in the air, mixing with clean parchment and aged wood.

Jiyoon stepped in with the same quiet grace she had carried her whole life.

Back straight. Gaze soft but alert. The world always seemed too loud, too sharp, and too full of eyes. So she learned early on to move like a whisper through it.

No one paid her much attention at first. A few glanced up, perhaps curious about the girl who hadn’t shown up for classes until now. But in a school full of predators, silence was survival, and blending in was its own kind of power.

She took the empty seat in the third row, close enough to hear clearly, far enough not to be noticed. She didn’t want attention.

And definitely not from them.

Her roommate, Da-eun, had already warned her in that flippant, chaotic tone she used when she was trying to sound casual but actually meant something. “Stay away from the Seven,” she had said. “Seriously. I mean it, Jiyoon. They're beautiful, yeah, but they bite. And not in the cute way.”

Jiyoon had just smiled politely and nodded.

Now, she understood what Da-eun meant.

They sat in the very back row of the lecture hall like kings watching over a court. Seven young men with too much power and far too little concern for the rest of the world. Every movement, every breath seemed choreographed, deliberate. Most of them weren’t even pretending to pay attention to the professor. One was tossing a silver coin between his fingers. Another leaned back in his seat, legs stretched out arrogantly. Two were quietly arguing in a way that sounded more like a dare than a disagreement.

And one… was staring.

She felt it before she saw it. That weight. That pull.

It hit her like a slow wave, a scent so specific, it nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Cedar and leather.

Rugged. Expensive. Warm and musky, but sharpened at the edges like a blade hidden in velvet. Her chest tightened before she could stop it. Her heart skipped, then tripped, then tried to right itself. She kept her eyes trained on the desk, pretending to flip a page she hadn’t even looked at.

Don’t look. Don’t engage.

It was just scent. That was all. Female vampires were more sensitive to that sort of thing, especially the rare ones like her. Maybe it was a bloodline thing, maybe not. Either way, it didn’t matter.

She wasn’t here for anyone but herself.

No bonds. No drama. No Seven.

Especially not the one whose stare she could feel burning a hole through her skull.

She breathed in slowly rain and ink, her own scent grounding her. Familiar. Clean. It calmed the rush inside her, steadied the noise.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, relaxed her jaw, and pressed her hand to the open textbook in front of her.

The world could fall apart around her and she’d still be here, still trying to make it through the day. Still learning. Still surviving.

And she had no idea that fate had just opened its eyes.

The Council Hall was built like a cathedral for kings. High, domed ceilings soared above the massive round table carved from obsidian stone, its veins glinting red like dried blood beneath the chandeliers. Every sound echoed. Every breath was deliberate.

No teachers here. No headmasters. Just them.

The Seven.

Heeseung leaned back in his high-backed chair, fingers folded beneath his chin. His dark coat hung open, revealing a perfectly pressed black button-down and slacks. Not a wrinkle in sight. Not a hair out of place. His expression unreadable.

Not bored. Not engaged.

Just… there.

Six other chairs circled the table, each filled by one of his brothers-in-blood. And while they didn’t speak unless they had something worth saying, the tension between them crackled like static. The Seven never relaxed. Not really. Not here.

Not in the place where they ruled.

Each of them had their role in the Council—positions not earned, but claimed. This wasn’t democracy. This was power in its purest form.

Heeseung Chairman of Order. The one who kept everything moving. Final decisions. Votes. Approvals. Discipline. His word meant law in the absence of the school’s elusive headmaster.

Jungwon Head of Security and Strategy. You didn’t get past the campus perimeter without his eyes knowing it. He tracked threats, movement patterns, blood trafficking, shifter negotiations.

Jay Head of Discipline. If Jungwon caught a problem, Jay handled it, usually without mercy. Cold, intimidating, and with a record of making offenders disappear. No one asked how.

Sunghoon Head of Public Relations. Don’t let the title fool you. Sunghoon didn’t care about feelings—he cared about face. Events, image, cover ups. He could smile at a gala while plotting your funeral.

Jake Head of External Alliances. He dealt with other academies, noble houses, and bloodline councils. Charming, fluent in lies, and the only one who could talk circles around a dragon and live.

Sunoo Head of Intelligence. If it could be known, Sunoo knew it. Blackmail, secrets, schedules, background checks. A razor tongued devil in pastels. Information passed through him or it didn’t pass at all.

Ni-ki Head of Innovation and Training. The youngest, but lethal. He ran the combat programs, magic advancements, and the council’s shadow curriculum. If he said your squad failed, they were gone.

At the moment, all seven were seated in silence as a shaky, pale vampire mid-tier and trembling stood before them clutching a digital tablet. His voice cracked as he tried to explain why the Moonfall Ball setup was behind schedule.

Sunghoon raised a single eyebrow, gaze sharp as a scalpel. "You’re five days behind."

"I-yes, sir, but the shipment was delayed-"

Jake leaned forward, chin resting on his knuckles. "And you didn’t think to prepare a contingency? You knew the expectations. We gave you budget, time, and authority."

“I thought I could make it work-”

Jay scoffed quietly. “You thought.”

Heeseung tapped a finger on the table once. That sound alone made the boy fall quiet. "Do you know what your role is, Seojin?" Heeseung asked calmly. Not cold...just detached.

"Y-yes."

"Do you?" Heeseung asked again. "Because right now, you're wasting my time, and if you're wasting my time, then you're wasting everyone’s.”

Jungwon didn’t even blink. "You’re dismissed."

Sunghoon added, “Don’t come back.”

The young vampire hesitated, just for a second, but Ni-ki was already standing, walking past him with a bored expression and a wave of his fingers that sent the exit doors swinging open wide. The threat was unspoken.

Get out. Now.

As the doors slammed shut, silence reclaimed the room.

Sunoo broke it with a small sigh. “One more failure and we might as well host the event in the cemetery.”

Jay muttered, “Fitting. Half the students will probably die in the combat trials anyway.”

The others smirked, but Heeseung didn’t. He sat there, brow furrowed faintly, eyes scanning the agenda hovering in holographic blue before him.

He wasn’t thinking about her.

Not the girl from earlier. Not the one whose scent he couldn’t name but hadn’t forgotten. The one with the steady hands and the downturned gaze. The girl who smelled like rain and ink and sat like she wanted to disappear.

No.

He had bigger things to worry about. Like Council policies. Like keeping the school in line before the Spring Trials. Like making sure no lower-tier vamps pulled another rebellion under the table.

That girl? She didn’t matter. Not now.

And yet… somewhere at the edge of his mind where the instincts he buried still breathed he could almost still feel her near.

He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled. The scent wasn’t there anymore.

Good.

He didn’t need distractions.

Not when the whole damn school was watching.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The roar of voices echoed like a wave through the open-air courtyard of the Academy the kind of cheering and goading that usually preceded a fight. Or a disaster. Which, in their world, was often the same thing.

Heeseung didn’t break stride.

Jake sighed as he matched his pace. “What do you think it is this time?”

“Another duel?” Jay offered, voice dry and amused. “Or maybe Ni-ki said something that made someone cry again.”

Heeseung stayed quiet.

The three of them turned the corner past the glass walled conservatory, their steps silent despite the fine gravel beneath their shoes. Heeseung’s hands were in his pockets, his long coat fluttering just slightly in the breeze. Jake pushed his hair back and exchanged a look with Jay as the crowd came into view.

Sure enough, in the center of a growing ring of students—vampires, shifters, and a few cloaked shadows likely from the elemental sect, stood Da-eun, pint-sized chaos in a plaid skirt, her voice sharp enough to make a banshee cover her ears.

Across from her, unmoving and unimpressed as ever, stood Ni-ki.

Heeseung stopped at the edge of the crowd. The tension was thick, vibrating in the air like a taut string.

Da-eun was red in the face, hands flying with each word. “You’re an idiot, you know that?! A bloodsucking idiot! Who the hell brings enchanted chili oil to a dining hall?!”

Ni-ki, entirely unfazed, lazily folded his arms across his chest. “It was funny.”

“It made my roommate choke!”

“She survived.”

“Ni-ki!”

His tone didn’t change. “I said I was sorry.”

“You spelled her name wrong in the apology note. Twice!”

Heeseung watched it all unfold with mild fascination. A full-blown argument, no touching, no magic, just words like fireworks. And neither backing down.

The crowd was eating it up but Heeseung only rolled his eyes because this was a reoccurring thing.

Jake leaned closer, voice low with laughter. “This is the fourth time this month.”

Jay smirked. “Fifth. They fought over cafeteria seating last week.”

“Who are they?” Jake asked, watching as Da-eun stomped forward, only to stop inches from Ni-ki’s chest, her hands fisted like she might punch the air instead.

“The chaos twins,” Jay muttered. “Unconfirmed mates. Betting pool is still open.”

Ni-ki blinked once down at the girl. “You’re irrational.”

“And you’re emotionally constipated!”

The crowd howled. Somewhere, someone started recording.

Heeseung finally stepped forward. His voice was steady, calm, and clipped like a scalpel.

“That’s enough.”

The crowd quieted like a switch had been flipped.

Da-eun turned, fire in her eyes, only to meet Heeseung’s unreadable stare. She blinked once. She knew exactly who he was. So did everyone else.

Jay spoke next, circling to Ni-ki’s side. “Control yourself, kid. You’re making us look like amateurs.”

Jake shot a small smile toward Da-eun. “And you impressive stamina. Consider joining the dueling circuit. You’ll fit right in.”

Da-eun rolled her eyes but didn’t back down. “I’ll pass. I don’t work well with arrogant bloodlines.”

Ni-ki looked like he might respond again, but Heeseung cut it off with a glance. The younger vampire bit back whatever smug thing was coming next and stayed quiet. Smart.

But as Heeseung turned his head slightly, he saw her.

Just a few steps behind Da-eun, half-obscured by the crowd, stood the girl from the classroom, the one with the scent that had buried itself into his bloodstream days ago like a whisper he couldn’t forget.

Her hair spilled down like a curtain of black silk, her arms folded across her chest as she stood watching silently, like she wanted to disappear into the stonework. She wasn’t loud. Wasn’t challenging.

But his eyes locked on her anyway.

She was… still.

And stunning.

His brows furrowed slightly. He didn’t even realize Jake was nudging his side until Jay muttered under his breath, “Heeseung, stop staring.”

Too late.

The girl noticed. Her gaze flicked to his and lingered, just for a second. There was something cautious behind those eyes, like she was bracing for something, even if she didn’t know what.

Then Da-eun turned and grabbed the girl’s hand, “Come on, Jiyoon-ah. These royal assholes aren’t worth the air.”

And just like that he had a name.

Heeseung watched her leave, her fingers still laced with Da-eun’s, her steps quick as she disappeared into the thinning crowd.

Jiyoon.

He said the name silently, like it was a word he already knew but had never spoken.

Jake smirked beside him. “Well, now you’re staring.”

Heeseung didn’t reply. He just turned away.

But her name her name stayed.

The crowd faded behind them with every step they took, the muffled laughter and echoes of Ni-ki’s arrogant voice finally swallowed by the high stone walls of the east wing corridor.

She didn’t say a word.

Not at first.

Not while Da-eun was still fuming, her boots clacking too loud against the marble floor, her arms crossed like she was holding herself back from marching back out there and finishing the fight with a punch to the throat.

But Jiyoon...her heart was pounding for an entirely different reason.

She’d felt his eyes. She knew he had been watching her. She didn’t know what to do with that.

Because Lee Heeseung perfect, rich, powerful Lee Heeseung wasn’t supposed to look at anyone like that. Especially not her. A newcomer. A nobody.

And yet the heat of his stare had made her ears flush pink, her throat dry. It had taken everything in her to turn away quickly, to not meet those endlessly dark eyes again.

Was she losing it?

Because now, even in the quiet safety of the halls, her chest still fluttered like a storm waiting to crack.

“—can you believe that bastard?!” Da-eun snapped suddenly, cutting through her thoughts like a blade.

Y/n blinked. “Huh?”

“Nishimura!” Da-eun groaned, throwing herself dramatically onto their shared dorm couch as they walked inside. “That idiot thinks he’s so untouchable just because he has cheekbones that could cut steel and an expensive bloodline. I swear to the stars, I’m gonna break his stupid jaw one day and sleep like a baby.”

Jiyoon closed the dorm door behind them and smiled quietly, slipping off her coat. “You guys fight like friends.”

“We fight like sworn enemies.” Da-eun kicked off her shoes with unnecessary force. “He thinks he’s the sun or something. Constantly orbiting like the whole school belongs to him. He gave me that smug smile again today, did you see? Like I’m some bug he’s too elegant to squash.”

Jiyoon just chuckled, curling up on the armchair near the window. The late afternoon sunlight filtered in, casting golden stripes across the old wooden floor. Da-eun always ran hot after an argument words spilling like gasoline, her hands expressive, her voice a rolling storm.

But she was never cruel. That was why Jiyoon liked her.

They were opposites in almost every way. Da-eun was wild, loud, always in some kind of trouble, but she was loyal and soft beneath the fire. Jiyoon, on the other hand, lived in the quiet. She stayed out of the spotlight, didn’t like drawing attention, and would rather vanish than be dragged into drama.

Still, something about today had stuck.

“Do you…” Y/n started carefully, trying to sound casual as she folded her hands in her lap. “Do you maybe like him?”

Da-eun froze mid-rant. “What?”

Y/n bit back a laugh. “You and Ni-ki. The way you guys fight—”

“Oh my god, Yoonie.” Da-eun slapped a pillow against her face before throwing it at her. “That has to be a joke. Please tell me you’re joking. I would rather stick my tongue in a blender.”

Jiyoon dodged the pillow, smiling. “That’s a little dramatic.”

“I’m serious,” Da-eun sat up, her expression deadly. “He’s cocky. Arrogant. Always acting like he’s so bored with the world. And that stupid look he gives me when I’m talking? Like I’m entertainment. Like I’m a wind-up toy that dances for his amusement.”

“Okay, okay,” Jiyoon giggled. “So… definitely not your type.”

Oh yeah he is.

“Not even on my planet,” Da-eun grumbled, though the tiniest flicker of a grin betrayed her.

Jiyoon let the laughter die down slowly.

But her thoughts weren’t on Ni-ki anymore.

They were still back in the courtyard.

On that moment.

That look.

She had felt the weight of it like a hand on her skin. Not threatening, but… intense. Curious. Hungry in a way that made her breath catch and her legs want to run but not from fear. From want.

She sighed softly and looked out the window.She didn’t know much about Heeseung.

Just that he was one of the Seven. Untouchable. Respected. Feared.

And now he knew her name.

A tremble rolled up her spine. Something was shifting, she could feel it in her bones. But what, exactly, she didn’t yet understand.

All she knew was that she didn’t want to be caught in anyone’s orbit.

And Lee Heeseung was a sun with a dangerous pull.

-------------------------------------------------------——

The smell of old paper and ink lingered in the air, grounding her. She loved being here, because the scent matched so well with her own. 

Jiyoon sat tucked into one of the far corners of the sprawling library, the ancient walls lined floor to ceiling with books that hadn’t been touched in decades. The high arched windows let in soft light, and the only sounds were the occasional scratch of pen to notebook and the hum of the heater near her boots.

Here, she could breathe.

No Da-eun shouting across the dorm. No classes. No one watching.

She had a slim black blood bag resting beside her thick open text, a straw sticking out the top as she occasionally sipped, quietly flipping a page on the ancient study of vampire bloodline politics. It was boring, but she was behind even after being in the school for a few weeks now, she hadn’t come from the kind of family that prepped her for elite classes like these. No one expected her to even make it to this academy.

She leaned forward, highlighting a passage in careful strokes when the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

Someone was staring.

She felt it.

Subtle. Sharp. Constant.

Her eyes flicked up, cautious, unsure if she was just paranoid.

But no.

Across the library, standing like he belonged despite every unspoken rule she had been warned about, was Lee Heeseung.

Tall, lean, flawless in a fitted black uniform, with dark eyes that seemed to see right through the polished rows of books and straight into her soul.

Jiyoons’s blood went cold.

The Seven didn’t come here. Not unless they needed something rare. Not unless Sunoo was lurking quietly in the back corners like a shadow. And never Lee Heeseung.

She dropped her gaze instantly, staring hard at her notebook like it held the secrets to the universe. Her fingers tightened slightly on her pen.

Why is he here?

More importantly why is he looking at me?

Her heart thudded behind her ribs as she tried to focus, flipping a page even though she hadn’t finished reading the last one. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d go away. Maybe he just...

Footsteps.

Soft, expensive.

Coming closer.

Her lungs locked.

When he stopped on the other side of her table, she didn’t dare look up. The scent of cedar and leather wrapped around her like a spell.

“You always sit here?”

His voice was smooth.

Low.

Her head snapped up, wide eyes locking with his. Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. She nodded once, barely.

His gaze dropped to the blood bag. She immediately moved to slide it aside, embarrassment flushing her cheeks.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said quietly, pulling the chair across from her and sitting down without asking. “The library, I mean.”

“I didn’t think the library was…your kind of place,” she said softly, surprised at her own voice.

A slow smile ghosted across his lips. “It’s not.”

She swallowed, uncertain. She knew how this looked. She wasn’t stupid. If anyone saw him here, talking to her rumors would spread faster than wildfire. She could already feel the walls watching. The old stone soaking up their conversation.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” she whispered.

His brows lifted. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re the Lee Heeseung,” she said, too bluntly. “And I’m…no one.”

His smile faded just a bit, and she hated how disappointed she suddenly felt by that.

“Maybe I don’t care about all that,” he said, voice dipping.

She looked at him.

Really looked.

And there it was again.

That odd flutter beneath her skin. That heat in her chest. She didn’t know what it meant. She didn’t understand it. But it had been there the moment she saw him in the courtyard and again now, thrumming like a tether between them she hadn’t asked for.

Heeseung tilted his head, like he could hear the exact rhythm of her pulse. His eyes dropped to her hand resting near her notes, ink smeared on the side of her pinky.

When his hand reached out barely brushing against hers as if it was an accident her breath caught.

A shiver danced up her arm, her fingers twitching before she could stop them.

The moment lingered.

Then he pulled back.

She didn’t know if it was her imagination, or if his jaw clenched slightly before he stood.

“Well…” he said, adjusting the sleeve of his coat. “I’ll let you get back to studying.”

She nodded dumbly, forcing herself to meet his eyes even as her heart screamed behind her ribs. “Okay.”

He took a step back.

Paused.

Then leaned down slightly so only she could hear.

“You should drink slower, by the way,” he murmured, voice like velvet. “Your pulse spikes too high when it hits all at once.”

She blinked, stunned.

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

Back into the shelves and out of the room, like a shadow had never even touched her table.

But it had.

And her hand was still burning where his fingers had touched it.

The front door of the Seven’s mansion slammed shut with a thunderous crack, echoing down the high ceilinged hall like the warning shot before a storm.

Inside, the living room was chaos as usual.

Jake was upside down on the couch, long legs draped over the back while he flipped through his phone with a blood bag half drained and dangling from his mouth.

Jay sat like a statue in one of the sleek leather armchairs, fingers steepled as he read over some new proposal from the council. Sunoo was curled on the rug beside the fireplace, idly flipping tarot cards while grumbling about how ugly everyone on campus had been lately.

Jungwon leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he stared blankly out the window, while Ni-ki and Sunghoon were arguing loudly over some racing stats on the flatscreen.

No one flinched at the door slam.

Not at first.

“Oh shit,” Jake muttered, sitting up and pulling the bag from his mouth. “The old man looks like he saw God.”

“Or a ghost,” Sunghoon said without turning around. “Same thing, really.”

Heeseung didn’t speak. He walked through the room like something was on fire, jaw tight, shoulders tense, running a hand through his hair before he threw himself onto the armrest of the couch.

Jay didn’t even glance up. “So who do we kill?”

“Not a kill thing,” Heeseung muttered, staring up at the ceiling like it might offer divine answers.

“...Then what?” Ni-ki asked, his tone skeptical. “You don’t get like this unless you’re thinking about blood shortages or council failure or maybe that time Sunoo bleached your coat.”

“That coat was hideous anyway,” Sunoo said cheerfully, still flipping cards.

“Guys,” Jungwon said, voice calm but low. “Heeseung hasn’t said anything. Which means it’s worse.”

Jake turned fully around, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, spill it. You slam the door like someone rejected your proposal.”

Heeseung looked at them all. Slowly. With the expression of a man who had lost.

“…It’s her.”

They stared.

Silence.

Then—

Jake dropped his phone. “No.”

Sunghoon blinked. “No way.”

Ni-ki leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “You’re mated?”

Jay finally looked up from his paper, setting it aside with the air of a war general sensing incoming disaster.

“You’re sure?” Jungwon asked carefully. “The bond?”

“Touched her hand today. Didn’t mean to, but I couldn't help myself.” Heeseung exhaled through his nose, like he still couldn’t believe it. “Felt like my ribs cracked open.”

Sunoo cackled. “Oh my god. Lee Heeseung. The heir. The quiet, cold, scowling one who hasn’t smiled in twenty-two years. You got matched?”

“I’m doomed,” Heeseung muttered. “She’s… she’s small. Timid. Skittish. She looks at me like I’m going to bite her. And now I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Jake grinned. “That’s not doom, man. That’s hot.”

“She won’t even look at me,” Heeseung snapped. “I don’t think she likes me. She was sipping blood and studying and probably praying I’d walk the other way.”

Jay stood slowly. “Who is she?”

“You’ve seen her, Jiyoon.” Saying her name felt like a blessing and a curse all wrapped in one.

A beat.

“The new girl with Da-eun?” Jungwon asked.

Ni-ki groaned from the couch. “Oh, her. The one who looks like she might faint when someone raises their voice.”

Heeseung nodded once. “Her scent is phenomenal. She doesn't even realize what we are to each other yet.”

“She will,” Jay said simply.

Sunoo rolled over onto his stomach. “So what’s the plan, mated-one? Gonna stalk her into submission?”

“I’m not going to stalk her.”

“Sure,” Jake said, already laughing. “But you’re totally going to ‘accidentally’ end up at every place she goes, right?”

“I don’t need this from you.”

“But you do need her,” Sunghoon pointed out, his tone quieter. “You’re already unraveling.”

Jay crossed his arms. “We all knew this would happen eventually. One of us would get claimed first.”

“And of course, it’s Grandpa Lee,” Ni-ki muttered under his breath, grinning like a brat.

Heeseung groaned.

“She’s scared of me,” he admitted. “I don’t want to scare her. I just… I can’t stop watching her.”

Silence settled for a second, until Jungwon finally spoke.

“You know how this works. It doesn’t matter how she looks or where she came from or what you were before. She’s your mate. That makes her ours too.”

The others didn’t speak, but it was clear.

Agreement.

Unspoken loyalty.

Unshakable.

They would protect her. Not because she was powerful. Not because she was well known.

But because she was his.

And Heeseung had always protected them.

Now it was their turn.

“Someone tell Da-eun to chill before she scares her again,” Jake muttered.

“Someone tell you to stop hitting on every female in her class,” Jay added.

Sunoo smirked. “Someone tell Jiyoon to brace herself.”

Ni-ki rolled his eyes. “Someone tell Heeseung to stop sulking and go get his girl.”

Heeseung didn’t respond.

But the corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little. Because for the first time in a long time, the predator wasn’t sure if he was hunting… or being hunted. And he didn’t mind it at all.

——————————————————————————

The lunchroom of Decelis University was nothing short of extravagant. Crystal chandeliers floated midair, pulsing softly with the magic that held them there, and the floor gleamed with obsidian tile that never dulled. Long velvet lined tables were scattered in elegant arrangements yet even in the opulence, there was a very clear social divide.

Shifters in the far back. Witches on the left. Lower-tier vampires near the kitchen. Elites in the center.

And perched like kings at the highest table, seated just slightly above the others with a full view of the room was the Seven.

They didn’t eat with the rest of the student body.

They didn’t need to. And they for damn sure didn’t want to.

Heeseung sat in his usual chair, elbow braced against the marble table, fingers spinning a blood stirring ring absentmindedly. He wasn’t paying attention to the chatter around him. Not really.

Until he saw her.

His eyes locked instantly not because she was doing anything special. In fact, she looked like she wanted to disappear, shoulders hunched slightly, hair falling forward in soft waves as she listened quietly to the chaos that was her roommate.

Da-eun, the walking migraine.

Heeseung sighed softly through his nose. Even now, he didn’t understand how she had friends.

But there they were.

And they were all... weirdly close.

At Jiyoons table sat the loud mouthed vampire herself, Da-eun, and girl with shimmering skin and mischievous green tinted eyes, Fae, unmistakably so; and another dark skinned girl with an effortless, magnetic grace and an aura that pulsed with heat and allure.

Sirens. Heeseung would’ve recognized it anywhere.

“What in the actual hell am I looking at?” Ni-ki asked, breaking the silence at the Seven’s table. His tray of untouched food sat forgotten. “Da-eun has friends? Functional ones?”

Jake turned to squint at the table across the room. “Is that... a siren and a fae? Sitting with two vampires?”

“Species don’t mix like that,” Jungwon muttered, clearly intrigued.

“Apparently, nobody told them,” Jay added.

Heeseung didn’t say anything.

His gaze was locked. On her.

Jiyoon looked so damn soft. So quiet. A stark contrast to her tablemates.

She didn’t even seem to notice the way heads turned or the way her little group was starting to draw attention from every corner of the cafeteria.

“She’s so pretty,” Sunoo said bluntly, leaning forward. “It’s like annoying.”

Jay hummed in agreement, but his eyes were pinned to the fae girl beside Heeseungs mate, the one with slightly iridescent pupils and a subtle tilt to her head like she was always half listening to the wind.

Seori.

He didn’t know her name yet.

But he would.

“That's the weirdest thing I’ve seen since the ogre tried to pledge Red-Sig,” Jake said, dragging his hand down his face. “Like, what is this, a supernatural support group?”

“The Rejects,” Ni-ki muttered, narrowing his eyes. “What does Da-eun have that’s got them all following her around like ducklings?”

“Chaos,” Jungwon replied. “And unfortunately good looks.”

Kija, the siren, popped a grape into Da-eun’s mouth mid-rant. Jiyoon giggled into her sleeve making Heeseungs ears perk up.

Ni-ki’s nose wrinkled. “I take it back. I hate all of them.”

Jay chuckled low. “You’re just mad you can’t figure her out.” He was talking about Da-eun.

“Her whole existence pisses me off.”

“Because she’s immune to your brooding.”

Sunghoon, who had been oddly silent, finally leaned back in his chair. His eyes hadn’t moved once from the siren girl. He didn’t even realize it.

Neither did she.

Heeseung’s grip on the blood flask in his hand tightened slightly.

Jiyoon still hadn’t looked at him.

He could feel the bond pulling tight like a thread around his ribs, a gentle but constant pressure. It was never painful, just present. Always present. Like a heartbeat that wasn’t his.

And when another student a shifter, lanky and grinning walked too close to her and said something that made her laugh, Heeseung saw red.

He wasn’t even with her. Not really. She didn’t even know.

But his body didn’t care.

Mine, it whispered.

Jay tilted his head. “You good, old man?”

Heeseung’s eyes didn’t move. “That shifter’s gonna lose a tooth.”

“Damn,” Jake muttered. “You’re worse than I thought.”

Sunoo grinned, his fox-like eyes lighting up. “So we’re all doomed once our mates show up, huh?”

Heeseung leaned back slowly, lips twitching as he finally looked away.

“Speak for yourself,” Ni-ki muttered. “I’m not letting anyone ruin my life.”

“You’re already ruined,” Jake said cheerfully.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Don’t.”

They all laughed, even Jungwon, who rarely smiled.

But Heeseung didn’t join in. He was already planning how to approach her again. Because even if she didn’t know it yet…

She was his and he was hers.

And he had all the time in the world to prove it.

The bass thumped like a heartbeat through the glowing walls of the Red-Sig frat house, deep, primal, and vibrating through the floorboards. Red-Sig was the vampire run frat on campus, notoriously selective and usually packed with purebloods, but tonight the doors were open wide.

The entire school was here.

And Jiyoon wrapped in black leather pants, a slinky crimson top, and confidence she hadn’t felt in weeks was dancing in the middle of it all.

Da-eun, of course, was a menace, dragging everyone into the fray the moment they stepped in. She looked like chaos in human form: her cobalt top shimmered under the strobe lights, and her hair was whipped half into a bun, half loose around her neck. The fae, Seori, was dancing barefoot because she hated the feel of shoes. And Kija the siren had her 3a hair slicked back and was currently twirling like the goddess she swore she wasn’t.

They were loud. They were wild.

And everyone was staring.

Jiyoon caught glances everywhere some curious, some disapproving, and a few just confused. A vampire. A siren. A fae. And another vampire who didn’t act like the rest.

What were they doing, moving as one?

She didn’t care. Not tonight.

This was the most fun she’d had since arriving at Decelis.

“Tell me this doesn’t feel like a fever dream!” Da-eun shouted over the music, her arms in the air.

“It does,” Jiyoon laughed, breathless as she spun under Seori’s arm. “But like, the good kind.”

“I’m sweating,” Seori complained, tugging her hair up. “And these lights are foul.”

“You literally have magic,” Kija reminded her. “Cool yourself down.”

“I’m not wasting fae energy on sweating.”

“Then shut up and dance.”

Jiyoon's smile didn’t falter. Her eyes closed for a moment, letting the music carry her, her heart pounding in time with the drums, her lungs aching from laughter. She hadn’t felt this alive in so long.

But even in the rhythm, even in the heat of the bodies and the rush of being young and free…

Her mind kept slipping.

To him.

Lee Heeseung.

Ever since that day in the library when his fingers brushed hers 'accidentally', something had awakened. A spark? A burn? She didn’t know what to call it. But it was there, clawing beneath her ribs, wrapping around her neck, her wrists, her spine.

Calling.

And she hated how she wanted to answer.

Not because she disliked him she didn’t. She didn’t know him. And yet her heart jumped at the thought of his voice. Her body flushed at the memory of his gaze. The way he looked at her like he already owned her. Like he’d never stop.

Her soul… knew.

He’s my mate.

She bit the inside of her cheek.

Da-eun didn’t know she’d figured it out. None of them did. She hadn’t told a soul not even after all those friendly glances Heeseung had thrown across the cafeteria. Not even when she started waking up from dreams that smelled like cedar and leather.

Because she wasn’t stupid.

Getting involved with him was dangerous.

It meant attention. Rumors. Losing herself. She had worked too hard to be free in her own skin again. She wasn’t ready to hand herself over, even if some part of her ached to.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But as the crowd pressed closer and the music pulsed louder, her body stilled.

And then...There it was.

That pull. Subtle. But unmistakable. Like gravity shifting. Like her blood humming louder. Like every fiber of her supernatural instincts bracing for something ancient and intimate and inevitable.

He was here. They were here.

She turned slowly, heart suddenly frantic, her eyes scanning the entrance. The doors of the frat house were still open and through the swirling lights and moving bodies, the crowd split just enough to reveal a shadowed entry. And walking in like death incarnate draped in velvet?

The Seven.

All of them.

They didn’t smile. Didn’t even try to look like they belonged.

Jay with his permanent glare. Sunghoon with his unreadable, winter-born grace. Ni-ki already rolling his eyes at the loud music. Sunoo smirking at someone he was probably about to verbally destroy. Jake shoving his hands in his pockets like he couldn’t care less. Jungwon with his hands behind his back, the one with the sharpest silence of them all.

And Heeseung.

His eyes found her instantly.

Not her group.

Her.

Jiyoons lungs emptied.

His ash gray hair was slightly tousled, his black jacket hanging open to reveal a shirt that somehow made him look more dangerous, not less. His expression didn’t change but his eyes were locked to hers like they’d always belonged there.

And something in her cracked.

This wasn’t just some stupid party.

This was a storm.

And it had just found its eye.

The moment the Seven stepped deeper into the Red-Sig frat house, people noticed. Bodies shifted subtly to the side, some shrinking in their presence, others whispering with wide eyes.

But the strangest part? They didn’t just enter and disappear into shadows like usual.

They were coming this way.

Directly this way.

She blinked once. Then again.

“No…” Da-eun whispered, staring past her shoulder, a drink half-lifted. “There’s no way. They’re not… Are they?”

“They are,” Seori said flatly, her voice deceptively calm.

Kija cocked her head, her siren instincts already humming. “This is going to be interesting.”

Jiyoon turned slowly, just as seven tall figures came to a smooth, confident stop directly in front of them. They were still arranged like a perfect arc not touching, never touching, each radiating power in their own way. Yet for the first time ever, they didn’t feel untouchable.

They felt present.

Heeseung stood in the middle, just slightly ahead of the others. His eyes were already on hers. That was no surprise. What was surprising was how he… smiled. Just a little.

Teasing. Like this was funny to him.

“Not going to introduce your friends?” he asked smoothly, voice just loud enough to cut through the low thrum of music around them.

She opened her mouth. Then closed it.

Then glanced at the girls beside her. Da-eun, who looked ready to either combust or kill someone, Seori who was eyeing Jay like he’d just personally offended her, and Kija, who had gone oddly quiet while staring straight at Sunghoon.

“…You want to know my friends?” she asked, blinking.

Heeseung’s gaze flicked to her mouth. Then back to her eyes. “That a problem?”

She cleared her throat. “I just… thought you didn’t like outsiders.”

That earned a snort from Jake behind him. Jay’s expression twitched like he was about to say something cruel but then stopped, eyes catching briefly on Seori before looking away.

Jiyoon caught that.

She caught the way Sunghoon’s brows dipped ever so slightly before his gaze flicked off Kija like it burned.

And she definitely caught Ni-ki’s eyes dragging down Da-eun’s figure which Da-eun hadn’t noticed yet or they’d be dealing with bloodshed.

“…Noted,” Jiyoon muttered under her breath.

“Well?” Heeseung prompted, voice still low and coaxing. “Names, please.”

She hesitated, lips pursing. But her heart was thudding so loud she almost missed the way her friends leaned in subtly behind her, like a united wall of rebellion and confusion.

She gestured first. “This is Da-eun. She’s my roommate.”

Da-eun offered no smile. “I’m the cool one.”

Ni-ki made a noise in the back of his throat. “You’re the annoying ass one.”

Da-eun scoffed crossing her arms. “You wanna go, black hole?”

“Anytime.” Ni-ki smirked.

“Please,” Jake muttered. “Don’t start punching each other at a party.”

Jiyoon coughed. “Anyway. This is Seori. And Kija.”

Kija gave a polite tilt of her head, but her arms remained crossed. Seori just smiled sweetly so sweetly that Jay immediately narrowed his eyes again and looked away like he had never made eye contact.

Jiyoon didn’t miss that either. What was going on with this group of people?

But what she did notice more than anything else was how all of them every single one of the Seven greeted her and only her.

A small nod here. A “good to see you” from Jake. A flash of a smirk from Sunoo. Even Sunghoon gave her a curt, respectful nod that made Kija blink. Jungwon, who hadn’t said a word, gave a quiet, “Glad you’re settling in,” that made her brows lift slightly.

What the hell.

She was no one.

No one but his.

Her heart stuttered.

And then his fingers slipped around hers.

Warm. Possessive. Natural.

“Walk with me?” Heeseung asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

She stared at him.

And let him pull her away.

As she passed Da-eun, she caught the girl's narrowed gaze.

“Text me if he murders you,” Da-eun called.

Jiyoon threw her a thumbs up over her shoulder as Heeseung guided her away from the pulsing crowd, through the hall, past flickering neon and up toward the quieter part of the house.

And still, he held her hand.

Still, he didn’t speak.

Until they were somewhere no one else could hear them.

Somewhere quieter.

Somewhere closer.

Heeseung didn’t stop until they were far enough from the noise that the bass faded into a dull hum. A hallway, mostly empty, dimly lit by crystal sconces and bathed in soft gold. No doors open, no eyes watching. Just them.

And he didn’t let go of her hand.

Not until he had her exactly where he wanted her.

With a fluid, casual grace, Heeseung stepped in closer and closer still, until her back brushed against the cool wall behind her. His arms came up, palms bracing on either side of her head as he caged her in, not to trap, but to keep anyone else out. The space between their bodies was thin, electric, and charged.

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

She was so short.

Her head only came to his collarbones, and her body looked like it could be swallowed by one breath of his chest. But it wasn’t just her size that struck him it was her expression. Eyes like moonlight. Soft, searching, impossibly sincere.

Like she wasn’t born to be in a world like this.

“Little doe,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, the nickname falling out unbidden, rough with something fond. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Jiyoon blinked, lips parted, voice caught somewhere between a protest and confusion.

Heeseung leaned in slightly, a teasing tilt to his mouth. “You think I wouldn’t notice?” His gaze dipped slowly, raking down the slope of her neck and back up to her lips. “I know your heartbeat now. I can hear it from across a room.”

“I wasn’t—” she started, but her voice cracked.

He smiled. God, he liked the way she stammered.

“So sensitive,” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek, fingertips ghosting against her skin. He saw the way her lashes fluttered at the contact. “You always tremble when I’m near.”

“I—” she tried again, but her breath hitched when his other hand slipped down the wall, close to her hip.

“Why?” he asked gently. “What are you so nervous about, little doe?”

Her hands those small, pretty hands lifted without thinking and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt like she needed to hold onto something, anything. And the moment she touched him, his restraint faltered.

Heeseung inhaled sharply through his nose.

Her scent.

Sweet. Cool. Endless.

It was crawling into every fiber of him, and his fangs ached. They ached with the need to sink into the space where her shoulder met her neck. He wanted to mark her. Claim her. Let the world see it and know.

But he wouldn’t. Not without her permission.

His voice lowered, gentle now. “I won’t bite you unless you ask.”

She blinked up at him, lips trembling slightly, her eyes shining too much for his sanity.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she whispered finally. “I’m just… nervous.”

He leaned closer. Close enough to brush his nose against hers. “Why?”

“Because I’ve never felt like this before,” she breathed. “Like something’s pulling me toward you. All the time. Even when I don’t want it to.”

His lips brushed her cheekbone as he spoke. “It’s because you’re mine.”

Her hands gripped his shirt tighter.

Heeseung pressed his forehead against hers. “Do you know what that means, Jiyoon-ah?”

A beat.

“Yes,” she whispered, voice so quiet it barely existed.

Another beat. Her fingers uncurled from his shirt. One hand rose to his chest right over his heart. “But you’re mine too.”

His heart stopped.

Then stuttered.

Then crashed in his chest like thunder.

A soft exhale left his lips before he gave the smallest nod, voice low and raw. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I am.”

The space between them disappeared then, not with a kiss, but a shared breath. The kind that cracked something wide open in both of them. Heeseung let his hand gently trace the curve of her jaw, and she didn’t flinch. Her breath came faster, but not from fear. Her lashes lifted, and her eyes didn’t run.

They held.

“I won’t push,” he said softly. “You set the pace, little doe. I just need you to know... I’ll never let anything touch you, ever.”

She looked like she might cry not from pain, but because no one had ever said anything like that before.

And Heeseung ruthless, sharp, cruel to everyone else felt something soften deep inside him.

She wasn’t scared of him.

She was scared of this.

Of being his.

And he was scared, too.

But not enough to walk away. Never that.

By the time she slipped back into her dorm, the music of the Red-Sig party still thumping through the floors in distant echoes, her head was spinning.

And it had nothing to do with alcohol.

She hadn’t even drunk anything. Not blood, not booze, not whatever that glowing punch was Seori had dared Da-eun to taste. No. Her dizziness came from something much more dangerous.

Lee Heeseung.

The way he looked at her like she was already his.

The way he said little doe, and her chest had squeezed so tightly she thought it might cave in.

The way his scent was still on her.

The dorm door slammed behind her, making her jump. Da-eun stomped in, tugging off her leather jacket and grumbling something under her breath about Ni-ki having a superiority complex the size of Seoul.

“Fucking twig,” Da-eun muttered, yanking off her boots one by one. “Thinks because he’s six foot something and glows in the dark that he can sass me?”

Jiyoon leaned against the door, silent.

“...Yoonie?” Da-eun blinked up at her. “You look like you got bitten.”

“I didn’t,” she said too quickly.

Da-eun squinted. “You look bitten.”

Jiyoon peeled off her own jacket and went straight for the mini fridge. She pulled out a blood pouch and held it to her forehead.

Da-eun flopped face-first onto her bed. “So what happened? Last I saw, Lee was dragging you into the night like some brooding drama protagonist.”

jiyoon hesitated. “He didn’t...It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh?” Da-eun popped her chin up over the edge of her blanket. “You don’t sound very not bitten.”

Jiyoon turned slowly, her back against the fridge, and finally whispered, “He called me his.”

The words filled the room like a spell. A pause.

Da-eun stared.

“You let him?” she asked slowly. “You felt it?”

She nodded silently. She didn’t even have to say it. The way her hands clutched the front of her shirt like she was still holding onto him said it all.

“I knew it,” Da-eun muttered, sitting up fully now. “I knew he looked at you weird that day I cussed out Ni-ki. Kija and Seori are going to freak.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jiyoon said, flushing. “He just, he smells like home, and when he looks at me, it’s like he knows me. Like he’s always known me. And I...”

“—are halfway to being bonded,” Da-eun finished, lips twitching. “You're doomed.”

Jiyoon groaned and flopped onto her bed in a flash, blood pouch abandoned. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Da-eun grinned and laid beside her. “No one ever does.”

A beat passed, and Jiyoon whispered, “Is it a bad thing?”

“No,” Da-eun said simply. “But it is the real thing.”

From across the hall, the faint sound of laughter rang out, probably Sora and Seori bickering over something ridiculous again. The dorm building was alive tonight, and yet all she could feel was the echo of his voice in her head.

"You’re mine."

And worse the way she’d said he’s hers back.

She didn’t regret it.

But she didn’t understand the whole bond either.

Heeseung slammed the front door of the mansion so hard, the second floor chandelier swayed above their heads.

Again.

Jake didn’t even look up from his position sprawled across the couch, head tilted back over the armrest like he had no bones in his body. “That’s the third time this week,” he muttered.

Sunghoon was on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of the fireplace, lazily flipping a dagger between his fingers. “He's got the emotional range of a guillotine.”

“I'm not emotional,” Heeseung grumbled, stalking into the common room like he was preparing for battle.

Jay glanced up from the corner armchair, brows raised. “You're mated, and you haven't claimed her. If that’s not a tragedy, I don’t know what is.”

Jungwon didn't say anything. He didn’t need to. His faint smirk said it all as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall by the window.

“You should be happy for me,” Heeseung muttered, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m pacing myself.” The word was practically gritted out.

“You’re suffering,” Sunoo corrected, lounging across the back of the couch with the grace of a fox in human skin. “And it’s getting pathetic.”

“I’m not suffering,” Heeseung shot back.

“Really?” Jake barked a laugh. “Because you looked like you were going to explode when she talked with that warlock kid at the hall meeting two days ago.”

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed. “He touched her.”

“You literally scent marked her chair the next day at lunch,” Sunghoon said without looking up. “Don’t lie.”

Jay leaned forward, his tone deceptively calm. “Look, we all know you're not exactly Mr. Heartfelt. But this is your mate. What the hell are you waiting for?”

“She’s scared,” Heeseung finally admitted, teeth gritted. “She doesn’t know exactly what this is. I don’t want to force anything.”

For a second, the room was quiet. Then Jungwon spoke, voice low but approving. “Good. Now grow some balls and earn her trust.”

“Preach,” Sunoo said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “Besides, she’s not the only mystery lately. What about her friends?”

The others perked up.

Sunoo continued, grinning now. “The fae with the icy stare? Seori. I think she was ready to shiv [read: Stab] Jay on the dance floor.”

Jay blinked. “She glared at me?”

“You looked at her,” Sunghoon deadpanned. “That’s enough to start a war with the fae.”

“And what about the other one?” Jake asked. “The one with the voice like a song?”

“Kija,” Sunoo said. “Sirens don’t just go to parties. She looked like you cursed her entire bloodline,” he added, flicking his gaze toward Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stilled. “She was weird.”

“She was staring,” Sunoo corrected. “You think you messed her up just by breathing near her.”

“Not my fault,” Sunghoon muttered, but his thumb rubbed the edge of his blade slower now.

“And Ni-ki,” Heeseung said, turning toward the youngest. “What exactly were you doing checking out Da-eun?”

Ni-ki sat up straight, offended. “I wasn’t.”

“You were drooling,” Jake said, throwing a cushion at him.

“She’s infuriating,” Ni-ki snapped. “Every time I see her, I want to—”

“—kiss her?” Sunoo offered sweetly.

“—rip her throat out,” Ni-ki finished.

Jay rolled his eyes. “Same thing with you.”

Ni-ki flipped them off. “She’s a menace.”

“And yet,” Jungwon mused, tapping his fingers together, “you never leave the room when she enters.”

Ni-ki didn’t answer.

“Cute,” Sunghoon said flatly. “You all are so in denial.”

Heeseung cracked a smile for the first time since walking in. “Says the one who nearly walked into a pillar when that siren walked past him yesterday.”

Sunghoon scowled.

“Whatever,” Jay huffed. “We’re all just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I’m not,” Heeseung said simply. “She’s already mine. Even if I haven’t marked her.”

“You will though,” Jake said, watching him carefully.

“Yeah,” Heeseung replied, voice soft but certain. “But not until she’s ready. I want her to choose me.”

The room quieted again. This time, with a different kind of respect.

After a few seconds, Jay groaned, standing up to stretch. “If this ends with all of us getting whipped, I’m throwing myself off the library roof.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t build her the ladder,” Jungwon deadpanned.

“I hate all of you,” Jay muttered, walking off.

Heeseung leaned back on the couch now, the first flicker of contentment curling in his chest.

Soon.

She’d be his fully.

And maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t be the only one falling.

The debate elective was intended to foster unity among supernatural students.

That was the intent.

The result? Chaos barely contained in uniforms and sarcasm.

The long hall was designed like a courtroom. Tiered seating framed a central discussion floor where students could throw words like daggers, formal, elegant, and often brutal.

No one expected the Seven to show up.

“They have people to argue for them,” someone whispered from the rafters.

“Yeah, or they just kill the opposition,” another muttered fully serious.

But here they were.

All seven.

Lee Heeseung in all his dark glory, seated like a bored king with a pen spinning between his fingers. Jake, smirking lazily. Jay, perfectly composed, suit crisp like he slept in starch. Jungwon with arms folded, already judging everyone. Sunghoon practically melting into his seat with apathy. Ni-ki staring at the board like he was already counting the seconds until he could leave. And Sunoo, perched forward with that gleam in his eye like he knew something no one else did.

Then…the four girls walked in.

Leather jackets.

Matching confidence.

Heeseung’s pen clattered to the floor.

They weren’t even trying.

Jiyoon took her place with a slow inhale, her eyes scanning the front rows and brushing, just briefly, over Heeseung’s.

Kija’s smirk was already forming. The siren knew how to make an entrance. Her lips painted crimson, her shirt cropped just enough to piss off every dress code in existence.

Seori’s steps were light but determined, the fae glowing faintly under the indoor lights. She didn’t look at anyone. She didn’t need to.

Da-eun was practically vibrating with silent rage as her eyes flicked toward Ni-ki. She looked like she was preparing to burn down the whole building just to avoid sitting near him.

They sat together, deliberately across from the Seven.

The match was set.

The professor, an old warlock who clearly had no idea what he’d signed up for, looked around with hopeful confusion. “Right. Our topic today: Should certain species be required to register their abilities under the Supernatural Regulation Council?”

The entire room tensed.

“Wonderful,” Jiyoon muttered under her breath.

Jay stood up, formal as ever. “The Seven are in agreement. Registration allows peace. Order. Transparency.”

Seori snorted. “You mean control.”

Jay’s eyes slid to her. “You’d know about control, wouldn’t you, Fae?”

Seori stood, voice like honey over knives. “Better than you. At least we don’t use our power to build thrones on the backs of lesser blood.”

Oof.

The class collectively winced.

Jay’s jaw ticked. “Order is not tyranny.”

“And blind submission is not peace,” she returned, unapologetic.

Sunoo smirked. “This is getting fun.”

Kija stood slowly, stretching like a cat. “You’re all so obsessed with hierarchy, but I’ve seen toddlers behave with more self-control.”

“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon drawled from his seat, “were you even invited to speak?”

Kija’s lips curled. “No, but your eyes were already begging me to.”

“Ooh,” Jake whistled.

Sunghoon looked away like she hadn’t even spoken, but the red tint creeping up his ears betrayed him.

Ni-ki leaned forward, eyes locked on Da-eun. “You got something to say, or are you just here for moral support?”

Da-eun narrowed her eyes. “You think you’re a challenge?”

“I think I make you nervous.”

She scoffed. “You wish.”

Ni-ki smirked. “You haven’t stopped looking at me since you walked in.”

“I was planning your funeral.”

“Romantic.”

A few students in the back snorted, quickly covering their mouths. No one dared laugh too loud.

And then Jiyoon stood.

Heeseung looked up immediately.

She didn’t look at him. Not yet.

She folded her arms across her chest, the blood bag from earlier still tucked in her coat pocket, half full and forgotten.

“Funny thing about power,” she said. “It only feels dangerous when it’s not yours.”

The room stilled.

Heeseung’s pen was forgotten on the desk.

Jiyoon turned her eyes to the Seven slowly. “You talk about order, control, and peace, but what you really mean is fear. You’ve ruled this school with it. Now we’re supposed to smile and nod when you say trust us?” She tilted her head. “Why should anyone believe that?”

Heeseung leaned forward.

“Because,” he said, voice low and sharp, “if we wanted chaos, you’d already be bleeding.”

The room froze.

But she didn’t even flinch. She turned to look at him, finally meeting those fire drenched eyes.

“Well, maybe you’re not the only one who can make people bleed, Lee Heeseung.”

The silence was absolute.

And then, the professor cleared his throat shakily. “I...believe we’ve had enough healthy discourse for today.”

Too late.

The room was on fire, metaphorically.

Da-eun grinned like a demon. Kija looked like she was about to clap. Seori raised her eyebrows at Jiyoon, impressed.

Heeseung?

He just smiled, slow and wide. “Little doe’s got teeth.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why are we doing this again?” Jay whispered, crouched way too low for a full grown vampire in all-black slacks.

“Because,” Sunoo hissed, “you’re all emotionally stunted, and this is the only way you’re gonna understand the female brain.”

“We’re vampires,” Ni-ki muttered. “I think we skipped that elective.”

They were huddled behind the hedge wall outside the back terrace of Dorm 4B aka the girls’ lair.

All seven of them.

The elite.

The feared.

The unshakable.

Now crouching like idiots behind magically enchanted roses because Sunoo heard the girls laughing and wanted answers.

Jake looked absolutely amused.

Sunghoon looked like he’d rather be dead.

Jungwon was pretending not to be interested.

And Heeseung…well, he hadn’t said a word.

Not since he realized Jiyoon was talking.

He recognized her voice anywhere.

“…I’m just saying,” came Da-eun’s voice, dry and cutting as always, “if we’re going to keep putting up with the Seven thinking they own the school, we should at least start messing with them.”

“Agreed,” said Kija, not missing a beat. “Seori, you should make them think a shifter clan moved into their mansion. I want to see them lose their perfect little minds.”

“Only if you do your part,” Seori replied coolly. “Next time Jungwon calls a council meeting, you should use your creepy voice thing and tell the dean he’s resigning and opening a cupcake café in the woods.”

Jake nearly snorted.

Sunghoon clutched his chest like he’d been stabbed. “She’s a menace,” he whispered.

“She’s my menace,” came Kija’s voice from the other side of the hedge. Her magic working as if she were right next to them.

Sunghoon turned purple. Kija knew they were there but hadn't told the others.

“Wait, wait,” Jiyoon giggled softly, “can we just take a second to acknowledge that Kija’s new ability means she can steal people’s voices? Like—screw siren stuff. That’s just rude.”

“I’m a trendsetter,” Kija said proudly.

“I still think we should use mine,” Da-eun said with way too much glee. “I could just sonic pulse the east wing of the mansion and be done. That’ll teach Ni-ki for staring at me like I’ve committed crimes against his bloodline.”

“You have,” Ni-ki muttered under his breath. “By existing.”

Jake bit his knuckle to stop from laughing.

Heeseung was laser focused. Jiyoon wasn’t joking…but she wasn’t serious, either. Her tone was mischievous. Teasing.

Gods, he liked her.

“And what about you, Jiyoonie?” Seori asked.

“Oh, please, her power’s the scariest,” Da-eun said quickly. “She can feel what people feel… and she can change it.”

Heeseung froze.

Jay’s eyes widened.

Jungwon finally looked intrigued.

“She doesn’t use it though,” Seori added, nudging her gently. “She’s not like the rest of us.”

“I will if I have to,” Jiyoon replied, softer now. “But no…I don’t like taking people’s choices from them. It’s not fair.”

Heeseung’s chest tightened.

She could have manipulated him.

She didn’t.

She never would.

That alone said more than any bond ever could.

“Anyway,” she said with a small laugh, “if they try anything, I’ll just hit Heeseung with a wave of anxiety and see what happens.”

Heeseung blinked.

“She wouldn’t,” Sunoo whispered.

“She would,” Ni-ki confirmed.

“I think I’m in love,” Heeseung muttered under his breath.

“Gross,” Jay said, shoving his shoulder.

“Disgusting,” Jungwon added flatly.

But none of them moved.

They stayed crouched like idiots behind that rose wall, listening to the girls joke, tease, and bond over ways they could hypothetically obliterate the Seven.

They were brilliant.

They were dangerous.

And gods help them all. They actually liked them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heeseung wasn’t a jealous man.

That was what he told himself. That was what everyone assumed. He didn’t get jealous, he got even.

But now? Standing on the edge of the east quad, fangs clenched, fists balled, a dangerous hum vibrating under his skin like electricity in a wire.

Jealousy didn’t begin to cover it.

Because his mate, his mate was standing a few feet away, being spoken to by a damn shifter.

And not just any shifter. A wolf.

Low-tier. Arrogant. Bark bigger than his bite. Heeseung had already clocked his name Jae-ryun or Jaewoo or something equally forgettable. The idiot was smirking at his little doe, leaning on the brick column like he had a right to stand near her, like he wasn’t trying to mask the scent of pure testosterone fueled flirting.

Heeseung’s upper lip curled.

“Are you gonna go over there, or just spontaneously combust from twenty yards away?” Sunghoon asked dryly, arms crossed beside him.

“Let him combust,” Jungwon said without looking up from his phone. “Maybe he’ll take the wolf with him.”

Jiyoon, for her part, wasn’t even amused. He could see it clearly from here. The roll of her eyes, the way she tried to step around the guy.

But he kept stepping in front of her. He wasn’t touching her, but that didn’t matter. He was trying.

And that’s all it took.

One second, Heeseung was standing between his brothers. The next, he was gone.

The wind cracked as his body blurred forward, and the campus quad fell silent just as his fist collided with the wolf’s stomach.

The sound was sickening. Flesh meeting bone. Breath leaving lungs.

Then a crash, as the shifter flew backward with the force of a car wreck, slamming into the side of a stone building with a crunch. Sunghoon, and Jungwon were snickering before they walked away calmly.

Jiyoon gasped frantically looking up at the pissed off vampire.

But Heeseung didn’t even flinch. His red eyes flicked down to her. “Mine.”

It was all he said before he scooped her up into his arms with a speed and certainty that stole her breath. One second she was standing. The next, her face was pressed to the broad, warm chest of a vampire moving faster than light.

The world blurred.

His room.

Dark, opulent, still filled with the aftershocks of his rage.

He didn’t put her down. Not at first. His arms remained tight around her, breath coming in short inhales against the crown of her head. He moved like a man who’d just won a war and couldn’t stop shaking.

Only when she whispered his name did he pull back enough to look at her.

She was flushed. Wide eyed. But not afraid. Not even close.

“Mine,” he said again, lower now, hoarser. “Mine, Jiyoon. Do you understand me?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “He doesn’t get to look at you like that. No one does. No one gets to talk to you like they’ve got a shot. You’re—”

He swallowed hard, nose brushing her cheek. “You’re everything. And if I have to break every creature on this campus to make sure they know it, I will.”

Her breath shuddered. “Heeseung…”

“I mean it,” he growled, voice low and dark, “I’ll burn the world down if someone thinks they can have what’s mine.”

She reached up, sliding her fingers through the back of his hair. Her touch, her scent rain and ink, it soothed him and ruined him all at once.

“And what if I want to be yours?” she whispered.

Heeseung’s eyes snapped open, red and shimmering.

He didn’t speak.

He just crashed into her, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that felt like every storm he’d ever held back. It was deep, hungry, heated, possessive in every way a vampire could be. Her hands gripped his shirt. His arms kept her pinned to him, body to body, need for need.

When he finally pulled away, breathless and trembling with restraint, he said one thing against her lips, “Say it.”

She swallowed, lips bruised and eyes burning. “I’m yours.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched, fangs dropping so fast he had to yank his head back before he did something reckless.

But his voice it cracked as he said, “Damn right you are.”

And this time, when she kissed him, he let it be slow. A claim without claws. A promise wrapped in silk.

They weren’t just bound.

They belonged.

The room was still.

Too still.

Heeseung’s back was against the headboard now, his girl straddling his lap, her hands pressed to his chest like she wasn’t sure if she should stay or run. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t. The bond thrummed between them like a wildfire threading through the air, calling her closer.

And gods his gums ached.

His fangs throbbed in his mouth with the need to drop, to sink into the soft curve of her throat and leave a mark no one would ever dare question. His hands trembled where they rested on her hips, barely holding her, barely breathing.

His mate.

His.

And yet he hadn’t claimed her. Not truly.

Because she was small. And delicate. And even now, she felt fragile in his hold. His little doe.

But Jiyoon…She wasn’t afraid.

She looked up at him through her lashes, lips bitten pink, her fingers sliding along the curve of his neck, up into his hair.

Her voice was soft but steady. “Mate me, Heeseung.”

His eyes flared red.

“Bab—” he started, but she leaned forward until their noses brushed.

“I know what I’m asking.” Her breath ghosted over his lips. “And I’m sure.”

His restraint shattered.

The second her words settled in his chest, the vampire inside him, ancient, patient, and utterly possessive snapped its leash.

He flipped her, gentle but fast, laying her on the mattress as he hovered over her, eyes roaming every inch of her face, her throat, her body. Her scent was already woven into his veins, but now it was stronger, sweeter, tinged with anticipation and something wild.

“Mine,” he whispered, voice hoarse with hunger.

She reached up to him, arms looping around his shoulders, dragging him down until his body pressed flush to hers. Her legs parted for him easily, and he slid between them like he belonged there, because he did.

He kissed her again, slower this time, like worship. He kissed her like he was learning every corner of her soul through her lips. Her fingers clawed at his shirt, his chest, her need just as wild as his.

He kissed down her jaw, her neck, his tongue flicking over the curve where he’d soon bite. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he murmured.

“You won’t,” she whispered, breathless. “I want all of you.”

His growl was soft but guttural, his lips curling against her skin. He slid her shirt over her head, baring her to the moonlight spilling in through the window. And gods, she was beautiful, so damn beautiful he forgot what breathing was. He kissed down her chest, tracing every curve with his mouth, his hands, his tongue. She arched beneath him, breath catching, soft gasps falling from her lips as he worshiped her like the goddess she was.

And when he came back up, their eyes met and the need hit like lightning.

They were no longer teasing the idea. They were lost in it. Drowning in it.

With a single motion, she bared her neck to him.

Heeseung’s fangs dropped.

“Last chance,” he rasped, voice raw. “Once I do this, you’re mine forever.”

Jiyoon smiled sweetly, a little shaky but certain, “I already am.”

And with that he bit down.

Her gasp was soft, almost startled but it melted into something deeper, something needy, as the bond roared to life. He drank just enough to seal it, then sealed the mark with his tongue, licking over the wound as she trembled beneath him.

Then her turn.

She flipped him, straddling him now as he laid back, chest heaving. His eyes were wide, glowing, dazed. And when she leaned down and bit his throat, deep and sharp, his entire body jerked.

It was rare unheard of for a male vampire to allow it. But Heeseung had never cared about tradition.

He wanted her to own him, too.

And when the bite took, a white hot shock burst through both of them, snapping the final tether of hesitation between their souls.

They mated, bodies moving like fire and wind, all clawing hands and soft moans and gasping kisses. Heeseung held her like he was trying to become part of her. And she gladly took every inch of him, not just his body but his heart, his soul, his eternity.

It wasn’t just physical.

It was everything.

When they came down, breathless and trembling in each other’s arms, the room still shimmered with the pulse of magic.

Marked. Mated. Whole.

Heeseung brushed his knuckles over her cheek, lips parting to say something, but she beat him to it, murmuring sleepily against his chest.

“You’re mine.”

And his answering smile was feral. And full of peace.

The Moonfall Ball was the highlight of the supernatural academy’s year.

Held beneath the silver dome of the enchanted atrium, the sky above shimmered with stars, clouds swirling lazily across a bewitched ceiling. Soft snowflakes fell and vanished just before they touched the ground, and the floating lanterns cast everything in a warm glow.

It was beautiful. Magical.

And an absolute shit show if you were one of the Seven.

Heeseung had been trying to make Jiyoon let go of his hand for ten minutes. She wouldn’t. He wouldn’t either.

They were glued to each other.

“I think they fused at the soul,” Jay muttered as he eyed them from across the punch table.

“They did,” Sunoo replied dryly, ladling more crimson liquid into his glass. “It’s called mating, genius.”

“I give it twenty more minutes before Heeseung starts growling at anyone who breathes near her,” Jake said, adjusting his cufflinks.

“Growling?” Sunghoon scoffed. “He already made a server cry just for asking if she wanted more cake.”

“She didn’t want more cake,” Heeseung said flatly, pulling the girl a little closer.

“I wanted more cake,” she muttered with a teasing smile, lifting her glass of berry cider. “You scared him off.”

“Good,” he said, brushing a kiss behind her ear. “He was looking at you.”

“Hyung,” Jungwon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to end up banned from every public event.”

From across the room, the three girls Kija, Seori, and Da-eun watched this with expressions ranging from stunned to deeply unimpressed.

“She really let him bite her?” Kija whispered. She seemed annoyed but really she was happy her friend was happy.

“Mate her,” Seori corrected.

“Same thing. I’m still gagged,” Da-eun said, arms crossed.

But despite their reactions, all three were genuinely happy for their friend. Jiyoon was glowing. Soft, radiant, and calm even as Heeseung hovered like she was made of glass and sin.

Still, that didn’t stop the trio from glaring daggers at the rest of the Seven if they looked too long.

Jay glanced at Seori, met her sharp eyes, and instantly looked away like he’d touched fire. Sunghoon caught Kija’s gaze for half a second and nearly choked on his drink.

Ni-ki?

He was already in a full-blown argument with Da-eun over the best combat spell structure...again.

“—it’s clearly more efficient to disarm with a direct pulse!” Da-eun snapped.

“Only if you’re reckless,” Ni-ki retorted. “Which you are.”

“I’ll show you reckless—!”

“Oh my god,” Seori muttered, looking exhausted.

And that’s when Jiyoon's eyes flashed blue.

A shimmer of calm rippled through the space, a soft wave of magic that settled the tension in the air. Both Ni-ki and Da-eun went silent, blinking in confusion before slowly backing away from each other like nothing had happened.

The rest of the group? Died laughing.

“You did not just use your powers on them,” Sunoo cackled, nearly spilling his drink.

“I did,” Jiyoon said sweetly. “And I’ll do it again.”

“You’re evil,” Jungwon muttered through a grin. “I respect it.”

Jake leaned into Heeseung. “You’re screwed, hyung. She’s the boss now.”

“I’ve always been the boss,” She chimed in playfully, smirking.

Heeseung just looked down at her with those midnight eyes, something feral and tender rising beneath them.

His hand came up, brushing a knuckle along her jaw as he tilted her chin toward him. “You mine,” he said quietly, voice thick with warmth and want.

She smiled back, tugging him by his tie as the music swelled around them.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Don’t I know it.” She pulled him closer, nose brushing his, “You’re mine too.”

And as the stars shifted overhead and the laughter of newfound love and chaos echoed through the glowing ballroom…

The story of the Seven and their soulmates truly began.

[prince-zoisite]

Languages often called the most poetic: Urdu, Persian, Arabic

Most romantic: Italian, French, Spanish

Most scholarly: Sanskrit, Latin, Chinese

Most philosophical: German, Ancient Greek

Which of these 11 languages most deserves its good reputation?

Urdu

Persian

Arabic

Italian

French

Spanish

Sanskrit

Latin

Chinese

German

Ancient Greek

Voting ended onApr 24