Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night sky is gloomy today, the moon only a crescent with the stars hiding behind thick clouds. Jeongguk thinks it might rain, maybe. His paws hit the earth with a lightness as he moves through the forest, taking flight into the trees. He feels the cold wind caress his fur as he runs and runs and runs. To where he doesn’t know. The pounding of his paws against the dirt, it’s a wild, directionless rhythm.

But it’s always been like this. Trying to outrun whatever noise around him and pushing his body to the limits, desperate for some kind of numbness that only total exhaustion can provide. Still, there’s no prize at the finish and in the end, all the noise resurfaces and he’s back at the starting point.

He counts his steps, his breaths, the drumbeat of his heart and the way the moon peaks through the canopy of trees. He focuses on the rustle of the leaves and the air thick with the scent of earth and soil. When he feels his breath start getting uneven, Jeongguk stops to take a break. He supposes it’s been a few hours since he first took step into the forest. 

His father’s probably not happy that he’s gone from the Den tonight. He told him there’s a pack meeting on the thermal weaponry shipment which was intercepted by the government recently. The Blackened Run they called it. They suspect the vampires leaked the intelligence to weaken the wolves considering those bloodsuckers had previously agreed to help with the money laundering aspect of the shipment. For what reason, they didn’t know, so that was the purpose of the meeting tonight. To figure out the shitshow that happened. 

So he’s supposed to be at the Den, sitting silently and waiting for orders from his father on what to do regarding said shitshow. Instead, he chose to go on his usual run to find some relief, knowing he’s probably getting punished for it when he’s back. 

But it doesn't matter. It never matters.

Suddenly, before Jeongguk could get himself out of his own miserable thoughts, a silver snare shoots out from the corner of a tree, wrapping around his neck and snapping taut.

The world dissolves into a blinding white pain. 

It doesn't just burn. It feels like a cold, paralyzing fire that locks his muscles and seizes his throat. Another one catches on his hind leg and pulls– down he goes on the ground, writhing. He growls, a sound that starts as a wolf howl but ends as a choked whine as the silver bites into his skin.

Two figures emerge, clad in dark, heavy tactical gear, moving with practiced efficiency. They are human, but armed with knowledge. 

“Got a big one, didn’t we, Smith?” one hunter grunts, hauling back on the silver snare, choking Jeongguk more.

The second hunter steps forward with a curved blade coated in purplish slime– wolfsbane– and drives it into Jeongguk’s thigh to draw a gush of dark blood.

The wolfsbane neurotoxin hits immediately. The paralysis deepens and Jeongguk’s vision swims. He slumps against the silver snare, the pain overwhelming. The hunter pulls out an auto-injector pistol.

“Easy, beast. Just a little Lycantrol to keep you quiet for the trip,” the hunter says, leveling the needle at Jeongguk’s neck.

In that paralyzed state, Jeongguk is aware of the hunter's breath, the scent of his sweat and the impending darkness of the sedative. This is how it ends. Dragged out, skinned, gutted.

Probably going to have my fur and claws sold in the black market just for these guys to make a quick buck. Just as meaningless as my life.

He closes his eyes, waiting for the pain, for the darkness.

But it doesn't come. For a second, there's no sound. No rustling of leaves or the voices of the hunters. Then, a shadow– too fast, too precise– moves from the tree line. It’s a blur of dark fabric and impossible speed and the hunters are suddenly gone.

Jeongguk tries to blink his eyes, choking on his own blood and pain. He watches through his blurry vision as a creature of lethal elegance grips the throat of one of the hunters and lifts him off the ground, his mouth coming near his neck. There’s a sound of a wet disturbing shlurp and Jeongguk sees how the hunter’s skin turns waxy, his body collapses into a dry corpse that crumbles to the ground.

The creature– the vampire– stands over the corpse for a moment, with blood on his lips. Then, he turns his attention to the large, silver-snared wolf.

He kneels by Jeongguk, his voice a low purr of disdain, yet curious.

“You’ve strayed, little dog,” Taehyung says, his gaze fixed on Jeongguk. “And you’ve bled all over my property.”

The pain finally consumes Jeongguk and his vision goes dark. 

–

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter open, heavy and gummed with drying blood. The first thing he registers is the absence of agonizing pain, replaced by a deep, throbbing ache and a crushing, sickening vulnerability. He is lying on a plush velvet sofa. 

And he’s naked.

A heavy woolen blanket is draped over his hips, barely enough to maintain a semblance of decency. He's in his human form, a change he doesn’t remember making, which only intensifies the panic that he desperately forces down. He tries to access the raw power within, to transform back to his wolf form, but he doesn't have the energy for it. The wounds on his neck, thigh and leg, though scabbed over by his body's forced healing, still hiss faintly, refusing to knit completely. The silver and the wolfsbane toxin are still working, keeping his strength bound. He’s weak, exposed and trapped.

The cabin is small, with walls paneled in dark wood, windows tinted and air that smells of dust and something sharp and metallic. 

Jeongguk lifts his head and sees him.

Taehyung, the vampire, is leaning against a counter in the kitchenette area, a place far too clean to ever have seen actual food prepared. He is impossibly still, but his eyes, the color of blood red, are fixed on Jeongguk.

“The little dog wakes,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice a smooth, low register that holds no warmth, only judgment.

Jeongguk’s heart hammers against his ribs, but he forces his face into a mask of stone. He grips the edge of the blanket, knuckles white.

“Taehyung,” he replies, his voice hoarse from the choke-off earlier. He doesn’t ask, ‘Where am I?’– he knows. He’s on Coven property. 

So instead, he goes straight to the point. “You drank some good blood from those hunters. Why didn’t you drink mine dry too?”

Vampires aren't exactly known to be friendly with werewolves, even if both species did do business with each other. 

Taehyung pushes off the counter and stops a few feet away, close enough that Jeongguk can feel the deep chill radiating off him.

“Crude, but direct. I like that in a beast,” Taehyung says, tilting his head. The corner of his lip curls, not in a smile, but in a look of profound displeasure. “You bled all over the edge of my land. It’s bad for business. Cleaning up human remains is far less effort than cleaning up a panicked wolf corpse. Consider it a sanitation fee.”

“Sanitation,” Jeongguk repeats, the word tasting like ash. He ignores the throbbing pain in his leg and pushes himself up, leaning against the back of the sofa. “So I’m alive because I’m less trouble than a stain?”

“Precisely. And you are here because the scent of freshly spilled werewolf blood is not something you leave unattended on Coven territory. It attracts the wrong kind of attention.” Taehyung circles the coffee table, running a perfectly manicured finger over the polished wood. “Besides, you carry your father’s mark. I need to know why one of Reign’s dogs is being hunted by human filth on my front lawn.”

Jeongguk bristles at the mention of his father’s name. It’s like a shard of glass in his throat.

“What I do is not your concern, Auction Master,” Jeongguk glares, his anger a shield against his nakedness. “And what business is it of yours who hunts me? The Den and the Coven are partners, not protectors. You should have left me to be carved up and sold off. It’s what you do best, isn’t it? Selling parts of others.”

Taehyung stops circling. His red eyes flash, suddenly intense. The temperature of the cabin drops again.

“Careful, little dog. I trade in priceless artifacts and the deepest secrets of kings. I don’t trade in common wolf fur,” Taehyung says, his voice now dangerously soft. He leans down, resting his knuckles lightly on the blanket covering Jeongguk’s knee. The touch is cold and heavy, a warning. 

“I’m not a little dog,” Jeongguk snaps, despite the chill running from his knee throughout his whole body. 

Taehyung ignores him. “I know you, of course. Jeongguk. One of Reign’s sons. I’ve seen you shadowing your esteemed brother at the negotiation table.”

Jeongguk flinches, not at the touch, but at the casual mention of his name and his brother. He quickly draws his injured leg back.

“Then you know I take orders. You think my father will send an army for me? Risk a war over a piece of scrap metal you found bleeding on your turf? He won’t send a catcher, Taehyung. He would expect me to kill you and bring your head back to the Den,” he threatens with more confidence than he actually has. He doesn't think in this weakened state he could even scratch Taehyung, let alone kill him. 

Taehyung tilts his head with an air of boredom. “I don’t expect Reign to send an army. I retrieved you because you represent a critical piece of operational security that my organization now controls.”

“The hunters are dead,” Jeongguk spits. “That’s all the security there is.”

“No,” Taehyung corrects him. “The hunters were using specialized, non-standard weaponry– weapons designed to neutralize powerful shifters without destroying the precious contents. Who funded them? Who sold them the Lycantrol and the silver snares? The Den would have you believe it was just human thugs. I, however, see the potential for a deeper, more inconvenient truth.”

He snaps his fingers. “Maybe the same players who cost us the Blackened Run shipment.”

Jeongguk scoffs, his lip curling in a sneer. “Don’t pretend to care about the Den’s losses. You only care that your laundering percentage drops. And you think I know anything? I take out the trash, Taehyung. I’m the spare part. Not the heir. You should have checked the name tag before you dragged me in.”

Taehyung steps closer, the temperature dropping again. “Oh, I checked the name tag, Jeongguk. I know you’re not the silver spoon-fed heir. Everyone knows that your brother Liron gets the respect, the territory and the easy contracts while you are left to run the wet-dog errands,” Taehyung says, using the casual knowledge like a surgical knife. “That is precisely why you’re perfect for what I’ve planned for you. Your father can’t afford to anger the Coven over a runaway, disposable asset.”

Jeongguk’s breath hitches at the casual cruelty, the accuracy of the dismissal. Anger, hot and volatile, surges inside him.

“You’re wrong,” Jeongguk growls. “I take orders. But I don’t spill secrets for anyone, especially not for a manipulative, opportunistic bloodsucker like you.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow, and his charisma sharpens into a cold, terrifying focus. Before Jeongguk can react, Taehyung is suddenly towering over the sofa. A cold, iron grip closes around the back of Jeongguk’s neck, fingers sliding into the damp hair at his nape. With a terrifying surge of strength, Taehyung pulls Jeongguk’s head up and back, forcing their eyes to meet, their faces inches apart. The sudden intimacy is a shocking violation and the air crackles with threat.

“Listen, mutt. You don't dictate terms here. You’re too messy, too loud and entirely too common for my liking. You are currently collateral in a negotiation you don't even know is happening,” Taehyung spits.

“You are mine until I decide your usefulness has run its course. And your usefulness begins now. Do you understand?”

Jeongguk’s breath catches, not from fear, but from the sudden, humiliating dominance of the physical grip and the raw insult. His wolf-instinct screams for violent retaliation, but the pain and weakness hold him captive. He stares up at the vampire, his own eyes burning with primal rage.

“I understand perfectly,” Jeongguk growls, every syllable laced with acid. “You’re just another power-hungry bloodsucker with an inflated sense of superiority. I’m a means to your end. Nothing changes.”

Taehyung’s grip tightens just enough to be painful, but his expression remains infuriatingly calm. He holds the tension for a long beat, savoring Jeongguk’s forced submission before finally releasing him with a soft shove back onto the cushions.

“An accurate assessment of my nature,” Taehyung concedes, smoothing the lapel of his suit as if cleaning off Jeongguk’s grime.

“Now, while your impressive regenerative capabilities catch up– and they are catching up. I’ve seen worse– you will be silent, and you will heal. When you can safely run in your true form, you will leave this cabin and deliver a message to your father. Not a threat, Jeongguk. A non-negotiable term for your return and our continued… partnership.”

–

A day passes like thick, cold syrup. Jeongguk has slept little, the pain from the silver and wolfsbane no longer agonizing, but a constant, heavy pulse. He's still on the velvet sofa and the windows are still too dark to see outside. He feels marginally stronger, but the wolf within remains subdued, bound by the residue of the Lycantrol.

The door clicks open, and Taehyung enters. He carries a compact, gleaming leather case and a bundle of fabric.

“Rise, Jeongguk. You can’t present yourself to your Den wrapped in a decorative rug,” Taehyung says, tossing the fabric onto the sofa beside him.

It’s a simple silk tunic and tailored trousers, the material a deep, glossy midnight blue. Jeongguk feels the alien softness of the textile. Wolves wear coarse linen, thick hides, leather– anything practical and hard-wearing. This is the fabric of the Coven: alluring, delicate and utterly impractical for a creature of the earth.

“I won’t wear that. I heal faster without restrictions,” Jeongguk snarls, pushing the clothes away.

Taehyung doesn't react to the refusal. He opens his leather case, revealing a collection of surgical-steel instruments and vials of iridescent blue fluid. “You misunderstand, Jeongguk. I require you to cover yourself because my patience for the lack of wolf decency ends at my threshold. Now move the blanket.”

Jeongguk grips the blanket tight. “First you ask me to dress, but now you want to strip me? Did you save me for a strip show?”

“I saved you because those human hunters left foreign matter in my asset, and that foreign matter slows your healing. You can choose to leave the silver and wolfsbane embedded in your skin, prolonging your paralysis, or you can let me remove it. The choice is yours, mutt. But wasting my time will have consequences far worse than a few cuts.”

Jeongguk knows the threat is real. He's still too weak to fight, and the idea of leaving the silver and wolfsbane to fester is horrifying. With a grimace of humiliation, he drops the blanket, exposing his strong, scarred torso and the angry, half-healed wounds on his neck, thigh and leg.

Taehyung makes no comment on the raw exposure. He is clinical, detached, approaching Jeongguk’s body as a complex, damaged piece of machinery. He grabs a low stool and sits, beginning with the deep wound on Jeongguk’s thigh.

“Such a mess,” Taehyung murmurs, not in pity, but in annoyance. He uses a pair of thin tweezers to probe the wound. Jeongguk tries not to think about how close Taehyung is to his dick. 

“You wolves are so reckless with your flesh. Always rushing headfirst into unnecessary confrontation.”

“It wasn't a confrontation,” Jeongguk grits out, wincing as Taehyung carefully pulls out the residue of wolfsbane. The relief is instant, but the cold, deliberate touch of the vampire on his bare skin is electric. Calm down. “I was running from the noise. The Den. I was supposed to be at some endless strategy meeting today, but I skipped it. On my own accord.”

Taehyung uses a small cotton swab dipped in the blue serum– a powerful Coven antivenom– and dabs it directly into the wound. It stings sharply but the pain gladly distracts him from thinking about Taehyung’s hands near his crotch. 

“You have a strange definition of autonomy,” Taehyung says, his voice flat. “Skipping a strategy meeting during the fallout of a ninety million credit loss is more than mere petulance, Jeongguk. I’m sure that meeting was about the Blackened Run shipment,” he continues, his eyes meeting Jeongguk’s. “And you run from that? Your brother, Liron, would have been first in line to volunteer for this run.”

Jeongguk laughs, a short, bitter sound. “I wasn't running from the meeting, bloodsucker. I was running from the walls. The Den is a cage. I run because there is nothing for me to stay for, and no one to mourn me if I don’t return.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow, assessing Jeongguk as a flaw in the Den's otherwise rigid system. “Ah. The expendable model. The one they send out to get mauled because the bloodline won't be tainted. Your father’s strategy is… transparent.” He says the word tainted with a delicate, chilling precision that makes Jeongguk clench his jaw, even though Taehyung is alluding to status, not the truth of his birth.

“And what about you, bloodsucker? I see you here, alone, doing the grunt work,” Jeongguk counters, trying to find the crack in Taehyung’s polished armor. “Doesn’t the mighty Auction Master have a coven to manage? Or are your peers too delicate to handle a little wolf gore?”

Taehyung leans back, his expression unreadable. “My methods are not the Coven’s concern. My results are. The Coven prefers to negotiate from a position of impeccable, documented power. I prefer to operate with unforeseen leverage,” he says, his gaze sweeping over Jeongguk’s raw, powerful body, before resting dismissively on his face. “Now, back to business. Your thigh and leg are clean. Your healing is accelerating.”

He moves to the neck wound, forcing Jeongguk to crane his neck slightly as Taehyung leans over him. The scent of Taehyung’s cologne mixes with the metallic tang of the antiseptic.

“You are returning to the Den, Jeongguk. Tonight, in your wolf form, as soon as you are stable enough to run full-out,” Taehyung states, his voice dropping to a whisper that violates the space between them. “You will tell your father exactly this: The Vampire Coven requires immediate compensation for the catastrophic failure of the Blackened Run shipment. We require a scapegoat to publicly absorb the blame for the security leak, assuring our mutual buyers that the error lies with wolf incompetence– specifically, the smuggling leader’s. And not because of the vampires.”

“That leader is Liron,” Taehyung continues, his cold fingers brushing Jeongguk’s scar tissue. “The demand is simple. Hand over Liron to face Coven sanctions. A small humiliation to be determined. Or every single future contract will be subject to a thirty percent cut in the Den’s laundering rate. Non-negotiable.”

Jeongguk stares, breath trapped in his chest.

“You’re using me to destroy my brother,” he whispers, the anger gone, replaced by a horrified certainty.

“I’m using you to deliver a message no one will ever suspect is real,” Taehyung replies, finishing the last dressing. He pulls back, wiping his fingers clean. “You, the worthless one, the one they send out to bleed and forget. Your reappearance, wounded but alive, carrying an ultimatum that targets the heir, is a psychological strike. They will dismiss you, but the message will land like a siege engine. It will pit brother against brother, and father against son, forcing them to choose between their golden boy and the Den’s solvency.”

Taehyung finally stands, once again elegant and towering.

“Run, Jeongguk. And remember that the only reason you are still breathing is because I have given you a task. Fail to deliver this ultimatum, and I will be waiting for your return. And I have my methods for dealing with disobedient dogs.”

Jeongguk looks down at his own battered body, the physical ache now secondary to the crippling dread of delivering the ultimatum and earning the Den’s annihilating wrath.

Chapter Text

Jeongguk shifts a few hours later, the pain still significant but manageable. The Coven antivenom is potent, allowing him the control necessary for the transformation. He stands in the center of the cabin, surrounded by the remnants of the torn silk– Taehyung’s final, arrogant signature.

He runs, a shadow of his usual wolf form. Every impact of his paws against the damp earth sends a jolt through his healing muscle, but the pain is a necessary distraction from the cold dread settling in his stomach.

He reaches the Den just before dawn. The compound is a massive, fortified structure of rough-hewn stone and dark timber, functional and imposing, not elegant. It smells of woodsmoke, wet earth and countless generations of wolf sweat.

Jeongguk shifts back into his human form just inside the treeline and stumbles toward the back entrance, catching a fleeting glimpse of himself in the darkened glass of a window. Raw, scarred and covered only by grime and fading blood.

The first person he sees is his mother, Marianne. Her elegant face instantly tightening in a mask of weary disapproval upon seeing him. 

“Jeongguk,” she says, the word a sigh of inconvenience. She doesn't rush to him, doesn't ask about the fresh scars lining his body. She simply looks at his bare, filthy state with detached annoyance.

“You’re late. Your father has been asking for you,” Marianne states, her voice low and controlled, addressing him as one would a disruptive servant. “You chose the worst possible time for one of your little... episodes.”

“It wasn’t an episode. I ran into trouble,” Jeongguk says. 

His mother waves a dismissive hand. *Trouble finds you because you go looking for it. Always making a spectacle. Your father needs Liron to be completely focused right now. You dragging trouble home only distracts him. Go to the study. Clean yourself up. Honestly, Jeongguk. Try to show some decency.”

She walks away, leaving him standing there. Irrelevant, like a stain she wishes she could scrub away.

Jeongguk finds his father and Liron in the study. Reign is standing rigid by the fireplace, rage radiating off him like heat. Liron sits comfortably in an armchair, polished boots propped up, a slow, predatory smirk twisting his mouth.

“Well, look who the tide dragged in,” Liron drawls, not moving.

Reign doesn't waste time on a greeting. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble. “You missed the meeting, boy. The Den is exposed, financially crippled, and you choose to play fetch in the woods? You think you’re above this?”

Jeongguk forces himself to look his father in the eye. “I didn't–”

“Silence!” Reign slams his fist on the mantelpiece, making the candlesticks jump. “You don’t get to make decisions for yourself! You are an extension of my will! Now look at you. What in the hell happened to you, boy? That looks like metal poisoning.” He steps forward, suspicion hardening his gaze. “What did you do?”

Jeongguk keeps his voice level, delivering the message like a courier handing over a plague rat. “I was ambushed by hired guns using specialized weapons. They were interrupted by Taehyung.”

Liron finally drops his feet, straightening in the chair, his smirk vanished, replaced by cold fury. “Taehyung? The Auction Master? You spoke to him?”

“He sent a message,” Jeongguk continues, ignoring Liron and addressing his father. “The loss of the Blackened Run shipment. He says it was an inside leak. And the Coven is holding the Den responsible. They demand immediate compensation and a public scapegoat to maintain buyer confidence that the error lies with wolf incompetence.”

Reign stands motionless, his eyes wide in disbelief. “A scapegoat? Who?”

Jeongguk forces the words out, tasting bile. “The smuggling route leader. Liron.”

The reaction is instantaneous and explosive.

Liron lunges out of the chair. “What did you say, bastard? That bloodsucker wants me? You’re lying to save your own worthless hide!”

“It’s true!” Jeongguk snaps back, pushing his raw voice higher. “Hand Liron over for a public humiliation, or the Coven cuts our laundering rate by thirty percent! Taehyung is sending the ultimatum through me because he knows you don’t value me enough to risk lying!”

Reign lets out a roar of anger and frustration, aimed entirely at Jeongguk. He strides across the room and strikes Jeongguk across the face with the open palm of his hand. The force of the slap sends Jeongguk stumbling back, hitting the wall. His cheek instantly blooms scarlet.

“You pathetic little waste!” he spits, his eyes black with violence. “You are a cursed reminder of what happened here! You bring nothing but shame, and now you bring war to my Den?”

Reign yells, “Guards!”

Two massive men rush in. Reign points a finger at Jeongguk. “Get him on his knees. And put the collar on him. Now!”

The guards roughly seize Jeongguk, forcing him to his knees on the floor. One guard takes out a thick black device– the shock collar. It’s heavy, made of black leather and military-grade material. 

The guard snaps the collar tight around Jeongguk’s throat. Reign takes a remote and levels it at him.

“This collar, boy, is a reminder of where you stand,” he snarls. He presses the button.

A violent jolt of electricity courses through Jeongguk’s throat and shoulders. His entire body locks up, a high-pitched cry escaping his lips as he convulses, gasping for breath, the scent of burnt skin filling the room. The pain is instantaneous and paralyzing. Just when Taehyung went through the trouble of patching me up. 

Reign releases the button after a brutal second. Jeongguk collapses forward, hacking, his muscles spasming.

He hands the remote to Liron. “This is your problem now. Deal with him. I have a vampire to call.” Then, he turns back to Jeongguk. “Any failure to comply, any display of wolf aggression, any attempt to shift– Liron presses the button, and you burn.”

Reign turns and storms out of the study, leaving Liron and the guards alone with a kneeling, collared Jeongguk.

Liron steps forward, his initial anger replaced by cold, venomous triumph. “Get the chains.”

The second guard returns with two lengths of heavy steel. They wrap one cuff around each of Jeongguk’s wrists, the metal cold and biting, chaining him. They are heavier than normal shackles, designed not just to bind, but to emit a low-frequency sonic whine when the wearer attempts to shift.

“Drag the runt out. I’ll meet you at the door,” Liron commands.

Jeongguk is hauled up and dragged down a tight, cold corridor, the chains clanking loudly. They stop at a thick, reinforced metal door marked only by a stylized wolf skull. This is The Cage– the dungeon used for painful, humiliating punishments.

Inside, the room is small, damp and lined with smooth, worn stone. The men chain Jeongguk’s wrists to thick, low manacles bolted to the stone wall, forcing him back onto his knees in a posture of submission.

Liron dismisses the guards with a sharp nod before the door seals shut with a heavy clunk.

Jeongguk remains on his knees, head bowed, the weight of the collar and chains a searing physical representation of his life.

Liron strolls over, tilting Jeongguk’s chin up with the toe of his boot. “Look at you, Jeongguk. The perfect messenger. Wounded, filthy and entirely disposable.” he leans down and whispers. “You crawled back here just to try and collapse the Den. And you were carrying my name on the delivery slip.”

Liron places the crushing weight of his foot on the back of Jeongguk’s neck, his hand pressing down hard on the shock collar, forcing Jeongguk’s forehead into the damp stone floor.

“You’ve been trying to run from the shame your whole life, haven’t you?” Liron’s voice drops to a snarl. “But you can’t. You are the shame. You are the Rapist’s son, a disgusting reminder of the night that animal attacked our mother. She looks at you and sees the violation. Father looks at you and sees a mistake. And I? I see the perfect creature to grind into the dirt.”

Jeongguk’s muscles burn, a physical counterpart to the slow, internal rot of being the bastard son, the "Rapist’s son," an insult spat by his favored brother since childhood. He can run for a hundred miles, but the words still tattoo themselves on the inside of his skull. Filth. Weakness. Stain. The shame’s a slimy coat he can't shed, no matter how fast he runs. 

Liron increases the pressure until Jeongguk lets out a stifled cry. He releases the pressure only to strike Jeongguk with a hard, short blow to the back of his head.

“You should have been left bleeding out, Jeongguk. It would have saved us the trouble of cleaning up this mess and dragging your curse back into the Den.” Liron pulls his boot away, leaving Jeongguk gasping.

Jeongguk pushes against the stone floor, his muscles screaming against the agonizing pain. The shock collar feels like a burning iron band around his throat. He’s on his knees, chained, collared and utterly broken in The Cage.

He’s right. The thought is a final acceptance. The hunters should have finished the job.

–

Taehyung stands on the upper level of The Ivory Exchange, a vast, covert auction house run by the Coven. It isn't merely a market. It's the center of the supernatural underworld's economy. Below him, the scene is a frenzy of high-stakes, multi-species commerce.

Vampires in pristine evening wear negotiate over ancient texts, hulking Werewolves move through the crowd, their coarse leather a sharp contrast to the room's elegance, cloaked Witches examine glittering vials of rare ingredients. Closer to the central pit, small Gnomes furiously scribble bids, and a few massive, stoic Gargoyles– traders in ancient, preserved or cursed artifacts– observe the proceedings with an unnerving stillness.

The Auctioneer, a sharp-featured vampire, is in full cry.

“...Two hundred thousand, going once, from the northern delegation! A genuine, crystallized Tear of the Angel, perfect for complex warding rituals or, for the more spiritually inclined, a profound aesthetic enhancement! Two hundred thousand, going twice!”

A Goblin near the front raises his paddle just as the hammer begins its descent. “Two hundred twenty thousand!”

“Ah, a contender!” the Auctioneer grins, showing a hint of fang. “Two hundred twenty thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold, to this lovely gentleman here! A wise investment, sir!”

Taehyung watches the transaction with detached amusement, taking a slow sip of the blood-wine held in a thin glass. He's not watching the current lot, he's watching the greed below him. This is his territory, and he has the power over the flow of the illicit trade in the city.

A smooth, commanding voice breaks the quiet satisfaction of his watch.

“You look particularly content, Auction Master. Did someone overpay for a trinket, or did you finally authorize the necessary political action against the Den?”

Jin, the Coven’s Sentinel, the director of internal security and political liaison. He glides up to stand beside Taehyung. He managed the Coven's political maneuvering and intelligence network– a role that required constant vigilance against Taehyung’s more impulsive, profitable schemes.

“I am always content when the machinery runs smoothly, Jin. And yes, someone is about to pay far too much for this trinket,” Taehyung replies, gesturing. “As for the wolves, political action is slow. Financial action is immediate and surgical. You should know that by now.”

Jin leans against the railing, his gaze sweeping the crowd for threats. “Immediate action requires immediate answers. This Blackened Run failure has left a gaping hole in our distribution. The consensus within the Inner Circle is that either the wolves are becoming sloppy beyond repair, or we have a leak. Which is it, Taehyung?”

“The wolves, of course,” Taehyung dismisses, taking a sip of the vintage blood-wine held in a thin crystal glass. “Reign is sentimental and incompetent. He keeps dead weight and gives the authority to the golden child– the smuggling route leader, Liron, who is predictable and arrogant. A failure of operational security, not Coven intelligence, unless you have been sloppy with your own network.”

Jin frowns. “We maintain strict compartmentalization. But your solution needs to be swift. I still favor seizing some of their territory as compensation. Public humiliation is always more effective than a simple rate cut.”

“Humiliation is coming,” Taehyung assures him, the red in his eyes glittering with amusement. “I have already sent the Den my terms regarding the scapegoat. Reign is being forced to choose between the integrity of his organization and the legitimacy of his heir, Liron. That will cause more internal damage than taking three blocks of slum territory.”

Jin stiffens, turning fully to face Taehyung. “You sent terms? How? Who was the envoy? This was not authorized through the Coven’s negotiation committee. If you used one of your own operatives, you are risking an all-out blood war.”

Taehyung takes another slow, deliberate sip of wine, enjoying the director’s anxiety. “I used the most effective method available to ensure the message was delivered and the Wolf of the Den understood the depth of our knowledge. Let’s just say I applied pressure where Reign is weakest, forcing him to acknowledge our terms without the opportunity for diplomatic deflection.”

“When and how, Taehyung? I require details for the security report. We need to know who is aware of our movements,” Jin insists, his voice hardening into a command. “If you have endangered Coven interests by using unauthorized—"

Taehyung cuts him off with an airy wave. “Be calm, Jin. The message has been delivered using a variable known only to me. It has already landed. You worry too much about the path of the arrow and not the wound it leaves. Rest assured, I have everything contained.”

Jin’s jaw works silently for a moment, his disapproval clear. “You had better. The Coven does not tolerate personal leverage that jeopardizes the collective. Do not forget who enforces the rules, Auction Master.”

Taehyung merely offers a thin, aristocratic smile. “Duly noted, Director.”

Before Jin can press further, a lower ranking vampire approaches the railing.

“Auction Master Taehyung,” the man murmurs, bowing his head respectfully. “The Wolf of the Den is on the line. He requests an immediate conference to discuss your proposed terms.”

A sense of triumph warms Taehyung internally, a feeling far superior to the perfection of the blood-wine. His dog is obedient after all.

He smirks at Jin. “Contained, like I said.” Then he turns to the messenger.

“Tell Reign I will take his call in private. And tell him I have already selected the venue for our negotiation,” Taehyung instructs. 

Jin watches the interaction with scrutiny. “Where are you meeting them?”

Taehyung smiles, a sharp, genuine flash of teeth. “On neutral ground, Jin. I want Liron to be distracted by the glitter and the scent of things he can’t afford. We will meet them at The Veil.”

–

Taehyung enters the private room on the second floor of The Veil, followed by his Coven bodyguard. The room is of luxurious control: thick velvet carpet, low lighting, and heavy furniture. One entire wall is a massive, soundproofed, one-way pane of glass, offering a view of the wild debauchery that is the club below. The Veil is a high-end club run by the Fae, who specialize in glamour, illusion and pleasure. The lights pulse to a beat as creatures dance in a haze.

The atmosphere in the VIP room is instantly toxic.

Liron, the wolf heir, is already settled in a leather armchair, his features tight with bitterness and barely contained fury. A low, black marble coffee table sits between them. His enforcer, a scarred, muscular wolf, stands rigidly directly behind him.

And then Taehyung sees Jeongguk.

Jeongguk is on the floor, chained and collared beside Liron, half-hidden by the armchair. The thick shock collar is visible around his throat and a heavy chain runs from the collar to Liron’s hand. He is filthy, bruised and kneeling in the posture of a beaten dog, his head bowed, staring fixedly at the expensive carpet.

Taehyung stops just inside the door, an eyebrow arching. He has seen Reign’s brutality before, and he knows Jeongguk holds a low position, but this display is excessive. They are making a spectacle of their own shame, he thinks, stepping further into the room. This is not mere discipline for skipping a meeting. This level of degradation is calculated to display absolute submission to me, confirming the depths of their desperation. Yet, a darker thought surfaces. Or perhaps they are punishing him for daring to carry my terms.

Taehyung walks to the matching armchair and settles, exuding calm. His bodyguard moves silently to stand directly behind him.

“Liron. Thank you for accommodating my choice of venue,” Taehyung says, his voice soft, almost conversational, cutting through the heavy silence.

Liron slams his fist down on the low table, making the fine glassware rattle. “Save the pleasantries, bloodsucker. You dragged me out of the Den to a Fae pleasure pit on the word of that… mistake on your floor.” Liron gestures to Jeongguk with his chin, not bothering to look at his brother. “Let’s get to your ridiculous terms.”

Taehyung glances at Jeongguk. Jeongguk doesn't move, his entire being coiled in agonizing tension. Taehyung feels a strange pleasure at the sight of the strong wolf brought so completely to heel. A fine asset, even in chains, he muses internally.

“They are not ridiculous, Liron. They are non-negotiable,” Taehyung corrects, placing his elbows on the arms of the chair. “Ninety million credits of Coven money and product disappeared on your watch as route leader. We are exposed, and your incompetence is the reason. Therefore, the Coven requires an immediate, visible correction.”

Liron sneers. “And that involves handing me over for some manufactured Coven ‘sanction’?”

“Precisely,” Taehyung says, a cruel smirk touching his lips. “You are the operational flaw. The heir, the golden boy. Your public disgrace confirms to the wider illicit world that the Den has been compromised by its own arrogance, not that the Coven’s intelligence network has a hole.”

“This is about maintaining the illusion of stability. If you refuse, we impose a thirty percent cut on the money laundering rate. Your Den goes from wealthy to merely viable overnight. A slow, agonizing death.”

Liron leans forward, his eyes battling his rage. “The Den knows we must pay. But handing me over damages the hierarchy and our relationship with the human brokers. We offer something cleaner. Something more valuable.”

Taehyung smiles, intrigued. “Enlighten me.”

“We offer the Ironwood Smuggling Route. Full, immediate control, permanent surrender,” Liron states, his voice low and firm. The Ironwood Route is notoriously difficult for vampires to manage since the territory falls heavily under wolf control. Acquiring this route eliminates a major source of tension, guaranteeing a more stable passage for the Coven's trade operations.

“And, as immediate compensation, a cache of unrefined Lycanium sufficient for a year’s worth of Coven antitoxin research.”

Liron gestures to the kneeling wolf. “This thing is proof we deal with our internal weakness. But we give you valuable assets, not just humiliation.”

Taehyung listens, nodding slowly. The offer is substantial, exceeding the value of the original terms. “That is a tempting piece of meat, Liron. You argue well for a smuggler.” He pauses, letting the calculated silence hang. “The Ironwood Route removes a headache and Lycanium is always scarce.”

“Very well. I accept your currency shift. We will forgo the public humiliation if, and only if, you agree to the following.The Ironwood Route and the Lycanium cache are transferred within twenty-four hours, and the money laundering rate is cut by ten percent, not thirty, but ten– permanently. This reflects the cost of re-routing the Ironwood operations we now have to absorb.”

Liron’s jaw tightens. He traded one agony for two. “Ten percent and the assets? That’s extortion!”

“It is the cost of my time, Liron, and the price of protecting your status,” Taehyung replies, his eyes a predatory glare. “You choose now between financial injury and extinction.”

Liron breathes heavily, his anger boiling over. Then, he grabs the front of his jacket and rips it open, pulling a standard-issue pistol from an inner holster. He points it directly at Taehyung’s head.

“You won’t bleed us dry, vampire! I will put a bullet through your dead heart before I let you shame my bloodline!”

Immediately, Taehyung’s bodyguard draws a sleek, silver automatic and leveling it at Liron. The wolf enforcer, curses and yanks his own heavy firearm from behind Liron's back, aiming it at the bodyguard. The three guns create a tight, lethal triangle of tension.

They aren't specialized wolf-grade or vampire-grade guns, rather just ordinary firearms for ordinary men. But the fundamental law of physics is indifferent to species. A bullet to the brain, fired from any barrel, surely can kill any creature.

Taehyung doesn't move. He doesn't flinch. He remains seated, the smirk widening slightly.

“Do it, Liron,” Taehyung challenges, his eyes red and predatory. “Pull the trigger. The bullet will end me, yes. But it also ends your Den instantly. Right here, right now, on Fae ground. Not only does the Coven seize your assets, but the Fae will peel the skin from your entire pack for the violation of their territory. You are a smuggler, Liron, not a strategist. Put the toy down.”

Liron’s hand shakes violently, his face a mask of sweating, impotent fury. The logic of Taehyung’s statement is undeniable. The chaos he creates here would destroy his family faster than any rate cut. He lowers the gun, his teeth grinding.

“This is not finished. I have to return this insanity to the Den for final approval,” Liron snarls, holstering the pistol with a shaky hand.

Taehyung nods, entirely unfazed. “Of course. Consult your superiors. But understand, Liron, my offer expires when the fifth dawn rises. Five days. You choose between your pride and your livelihood.”

Liron doesn't respond. He turns, his fury now focused on the easiest target. He grabs the leash attached to Jeongguk’s collar and yanks hard.

Jeongguk chokes, his neck snapping back against the collar, the painful thump echoing in the suddenly quiet room.

“Move,” Liron snarls.

Jeongguk pushes himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he is forcibly dragged toward the door. The sound of his chain scraping on the carpet is a brutal insult to the elegant room. The wolf enforcer follows Liron’s steps.

The heavy door clicks shut, leaving Taehyung alone with the vampire bodyguard.

Taehyung leans back in his armchair, the tension of the moment dissolving into quiet satisfaction. He lifts his wine glass to the retreating silence.

He smiles, knowing the Den must now choose between their heir’s status or accept Taehyung’s new terms.

–

Two days have passed since the meeting at The Veil. The Den has three days left to give his answer.

Jeongguk is currently fulfilling another one of his punishments for fleeing– and well, delivering the ultimatum. He stands alone in the Den's Boneyard, a wide, deep pit at the edge of the wolf lands. It serves as the disposal pit, full of carcasses, splintered bones and ritual waste. The air is thick with the stench of ash, rotting bone marrow and damp earth.

He wears only rough, stained trousers. His skin is slick with sweat and grime and he wields a long-handled, rusty shovel, scraping chunks of congealed fat and splintered bone into a wheelbarrow. His muscles ache from the labor and the memory of the shock collar tightening around his throat is a phantom pressure on his skin. The chains and collar are gone, but the humiliation lingers.

A sudden, cold, synthetic scent– not of the forest, but of cologne and refined blood– cuts through the stench of decay.

Jeongguk instantly freezes, gripping the shovel until his knuckles are white. He knows that scent, and it doesn't belong here.

Taehyung appears at the edge of the pit. He wears a tailored black coat and polished boots, looking down at Jeongguk like a predator observing its trapped prey.

“Hard labor, Jeongguk? It suits you,” Taehyung drawls, his voice clear and sharp.

Jeongguk drops the shovel with a loud clank that echoes in the silence.

“What the hell are you doing here, bloodsucker?” Jeongguk snarls, his voice ragged with rage and disbelief. “Stalking me?”

Taehyung steps closer to the edge, his hands tucked neatly into his coat pockets. His red eyes rake over Jeongguk's sweat-sheened body, lingering on the faint, dark purple mark on his throat.

“Observing. I had to ensure my messenger survived the delivery,” Taehyung replies, his voice clear and sharp. Definitely stalking. “It seems you listened well. Obedience is a quality I appreciate, little dog.”

“I’m not your fucking dog,” Jeongguk spits out, feeling the familiar suppressed violence rise in his throat. He leans down to grab the fallen shovel, trying to continue with cleaning the damn Boneyard. 

“No? You delivered a crushing financial ultimatum that secured the Coven a profitable double victory, and you endured your brother dragging you through a Fae club like a prize hog,” Taehyung counters smoothly. “If that isn't the definition of obedience, I don’t know what is.”

The mention of The Veil hits Jeongguk hard, reigniting the shame. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Seeing how little I’m worth to them.”

“Enjoyment is a strong word. Curious is more accurate,” Taehyung says, stepping down into the Boneyard, bringing him closer to Jeongguk.

“Tell me about the collar. It seemed... effective. Is it a permanent feature of your employment, or merely a motivational device?”

“It was a punishment,” Jeongguk sneers. “A leash to remind me that my existence here is subject to their control. Now, answer me. Why are you here?”

“I was merely confirming your location. I needed to ensure my little dog hadn't run off into the woods to lick its wounds.”

Jeongguk stares at him. “What do you want from me now? I have no power here. I have no say in the Den’s answer to your terms.”

“I know that, Jeongguk.” Taehyung raises his hand and reaches out. He uses a single finger to lightly trace the bruise pattern on Jeongguk’s neck where the shock collar had pressed tight.

“Liron, your brother, is not as highly intelligent as he thinks of himself. The Lycanium and the Ironwood Route were already substantial. They would have been enough to satisfy the Coven’s immediate loss.”

Jeongguk is paralyzed by the physical contact, barely able to breathe. “Then why did you push for the extra ten percent rate cut?”

Taehyung retracts his finger only to place his entire cool palm flat against Jeongguk’s bare shoulder, a purely possessive weight. Then, he smiles, a truly wicked flash. “Because he let me.”

His grip tightens on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Liron should have denied the rate cut and held the line at the assets unrelentingly. I would have conceded. But he pulled a gun like a brute instead of negotiating like a man of consequence. He stormed out, giving me five days to revel in the Den’s misery. I wanted to toy with them, Jeongguk. And they gave me that right because Liron is just a thug with a title.”

Taehyung slides his hand from the shoulder, letting it drift deliberately down Jeongguk’s arm, pausing at the heavy, visible scars on his forearm. 

“And speaking of endurance…” Taehyung steps forward one last time, closing the final inch of space. He lifts his other hand and gently traces an old, ropey scar running across Jeongguk’s ribs. The touch is feather-light but sends a deep tremor of awareness through Jeongguk's core.

“You collect damage, don’t you? I find that intriguing. I am not here for any task, Jeongguk. Just a personal visit.”

Taehyung retracts both hands, stepping back. He gives Jeongguk a final, chilling look, his lips curved in a satisfied smirk.

“Go back to your bones, wolf.”

With that, Taehyung turns and walks away, his presence vanishing as smoothly and unexpectedly as it arrived. Jeongguk remains frozen in the stench of the Boneyard, his muscles trembling, not from the hard labor, but from the searing memory of the vampire's touch.

Chapter Text

Four days have passed since Taehyung’s meeting with Liron. The deadline for the Den’s final answer looms tomorrow.

The Inner Circle meeting takes place at the Coven’s conference chamber. The four vampires are gathered around the granite table. Taehyung sits opposite Jin, the Coven Sentinel. To Taehyung’s right is Jimin, the Blood Archivist, a vampire whose knowledge of occult finances rivals his mastery of history. Across from him is Yoongi, the Shadow Regent, whose cold, focused stare speaks of a talent for external enforcement.

“Let’s address the elephant currently bleeding our books,” Yoongi begins, his voice low and edged with impatience. “The Blackened Run failure. Ninety million credits worth of thermal weaponry– gone. Who is responsible for the loss, Sentinel?”

Jin, the picture of cold assurance, straightens. “Internal security is secure. I assure the Inner Circle, the protocols around this shipment were known only to us. No Coven vampires are compromised. The vulnerability lies either with the wolves’ operational security, or it's a highly targeted external interception.”

Jimin touches a stack of ancient records on the table. “The nature of the loss is key. This was high-grade human technology, thermal disruptors and plasma components. I suspect the Gargoyle Syndicates. They're rapidly fortifying their mountain strongholds and require non-magical deterrents against air traffic and human military patrols.”

“Or,” Yoongi counters, his gaze sharp, “it’s the Witch Order. They rarely steal material technology unless it can be dismantled and repurposed for powerful enchantments or drugs.”

Taehyung swirls the blood-wine in his crystal glass, unconcerned with the grand conspiracies. “While I appreciate the flair, I still place my bets on Liron's monumental failure of discipline. The wolves are too comfortable. They run predictable patrol routes, and they rely too heavily on brute force. A sophisticated human hunter could have intercepted it if they received an anonymous tip.”

Jin narrows his eyes. “Targeting a wolf run is one thing. Eliminating ninety million in high-tech weapons without leaving a single trace is another. We need a definitive answer, Auction Master, not an assumption based on your disdain for the species.”

“We will receive our answer tomorrow,” Taehyung assures him. “I delivered the ultimatum, forcing Reign to choose between his heir and his livelihood. It was a high-pressure delivery.”

Jin presses him. “You still refuse to detail the logistics of this delivery. If you used unauthorized assets, you invite risk.”

Taehyung laughs, a chilling sound in the quiet room. “The method is entirely irrelevant, Jin. What matters is the result. I required a delivery that would cripple Reign’s ability to deflect, and it was achieved. You should concern yourself with the border patrols, not my methods.”

Taehyung continues, detailing the negotiated terms with a satisfied smirk. “Liron attempted a counter-offer at The Veil. He offered the Ironwood Route– full, immediate transfer– and a generous cache of unrefined Lycanium to cover the immediate debt. It was a substantial offer that saves them from political fallout.”

Jimin nods. “Ironwood is complex terrain, but it secures an important choke point. A worthwhile acquisition.”

“Indeed. So I told him, I accept the assets... plus a ten percent permanent reduction in their money laundering rate,” Taehyung says, tapping his finger on the table.

Yoongi grins, leaning back. “You took the assets and still clipped their revenue stream. Magnificent, Taehyung. You managed to punish their incompetence while expanding our revenue.”

“Precisely,” Taehyung confirms, enjoying the admiration. “The assets were enough to satisfy our financial loss. The ten percent cut is simply the cost of Liron being a desperate, arrogant fool. If he had shown any strategic competence, if he had pushed back more, I would have dropped the rate cut. But he pulled a gun and stormed out, proving his total lack of intellect.”

“So, we wait until sunrise,” Jin concludes. “The Wolf of the Den faces a terrible choice. Surrender his heir’s standing for temporary financial stability, or take the full financial bleed to protect Liron’s authority. What happens if he refuses all terms?”

Taehyung looks at Jin with a confident expression. “They won’t refuse. The Den operates on our money. They know a full-scale territorial war, especially over a lost shipment they can’t admit to, is financial suicide. They are cornered, and Reign is not that suicidal.”

He takes a slow sip of his wine. “The true victory is already secured. Liron’s desperation guaranteed us Ironwood and Lycanium. Whether we get the final ten percent rate cut or not is irrelevant. Those assets are now ours.”

Taehyung smiles, cold and certain. “I believe even Reign, who is certainly smarter than Liron, understands the situation here. They will agree to the terms. They simply do not want a war. The wolves will answer tomorrow with a yes.”

The other three nod, the silent anticipation filling the chamber. Tomorrow, the Coven will solidify its power over the Den.

–

Taehyung returns to his cabin after the Coven meeting, the smug satisfaction of his victory over the Den still a hum beneath his skin. He walks up the path to his front door, his hand already reaching for the polished doorknob.

Then, a rustle in the leaves by the porch. Too deliberate for wind. Too heavy for a squirrel.

Taehyung freezes, his senses flaring, the predatory calm instantly replacing his earlier amusement. His head snaps up, eyes scanning between the trees.

“Show yourself,” he commands.

From the forest, Jeongguk emerges. Not the mangled, bloody creature Taehyung first found, nor the humiliated, collared wolf from The Veil. This is Jeongguk in his full wolf form, a magnificent beast of mixed grey and black fur, blue eyes glowing with an unsettling intelligence. He moves with a primal grace, his massive paws silent on the damp earth.

Taehyung watches him, a flicker of something almost akin to wonder stirring within him. He is... striking, Taehyung thinks, fighting a strange, possessive urge. Ethereal, even. He scoffs internally. Do not fall for his charms, Taehyung. He is a beast.

The wolf moves slowly, deliberately, toward Taehyung, who remains unmoving at the entrance to his cabin. A few feet away, Jeongguk lowers his head, eyes still fixed on Taehyung.

He’s going to jump me. He’s going to attack, Taehyung’s instincts warn him, a thrill of danger.

But Jeongguk doesn't. He reaches Taehyung, then nudges against his leg, a soft huff vibrating through his chest. He’s going to bite my leg off.

But he doesn't, and Taehyung's confused, gaze dropping to the massive head now nuzzling his tailored trousers.

He looks at the wolf and a strange thought comes to mind. He’s kind of… cute? Wait, no. Oh my, for the love of God, Taehyung rolls his eyes at himself.

“You follow me all this way just to perform parlor tricks?” Taehyung mutters, trying to maintain his aristocratic cool.

Jeongguk lets out a low chuff, a rumbling sound deep in his chest.

Taehyung sighs dramatically, but the corners of his lips betray a hint of something other than annoyance. He reaches for the doorknob, turning it with a decisive click.

The moment the door is open, Jeongguk, surprisingly quick for his size, slips past him and makes his way for the velvet sofa. 

“Don’t you dare get dirt on the–!” Taehyung begins, recalling the bloodstains from their first encounter and the time he had to waste to clean the sofa. 

But Jeongguk ignores him, launching himself onto the pristine sofa with a satisfied huff, curling his massive body into a tight, warm ball.

Taehyung closes the door with a soft click, staring at the wolf. “Seriously? You are a terrible puppy.” He shakes his head and walks toward the sofa. “Why are you here, Jeongguk? My last dealings with you involved a shovel and dead carcasses. What could possibly compel such a sudden, unsupervised visit?”

The wolf huffs again, a soft whine this time, looking up at him with those intelligent, troubled eyes. Taehyung holds his gaze. “You know I don’t understand you in that form, right?” Taehyung says, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Jeongguk shifts uncomfortably, then looks down at his paws, a strange, almost embarrassed demeanor. He looks up at Taehyung one last time, a decision made.

In a breathtaking flash, Jeongguk’s body contorts. Bones crack and reset with sickening speed, muscle and fur ripple and recede. In a matter of seconds, where the massive wolf had been, a naked man now kneels on Taehyung’s sofa, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The transformation is raw, intimate and utterly exposed.

Taehyung tries not to look, but his eyes are drawn to Jeongguk’s lean body. The scars are starker now, the bruises from his punishment more apparent against the pale skin.

Taehyung walks to the kitchen, pulling out a chilled glass of blood, his back to Jeongguk.

“Right. Now we can communicate. Why are you here, Jeongguk?” Taehyung asks, taking a slow, steady sip.

Jeongguk remains on the sofa, clutching a cushion to his chest, suddenly vulnerable without his fur. His voice is a low murmur, hesitant. “I was running. From the noise.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, turning to face him. “Ah. That again. The same noise that led you to my doorstep the first time, bleeding out and half-dead.”

Jeongguk avoids Taehyung’s gaze. “I… I recognized the tree lines. Then the path to your cabin.”

“Yes, I’m aware of my geography, pup,” Taehyung says, walking back toward the living room, a slow, deliberate pace. The glass of blood is cool in his hand. “But why, of all the corners in the forest, did your instincts guide you back here? To me. After I used you as a pawn, after I watched your brother humiliate you. Why?”

Jeongguk stares at the floor, dodging the glare. “I don’t know. It’s quiet here. The Den… the Den is too loud. Too much anger, too much waiting.”

Taehyung stops a few feet away. “Anger? Or the deafening sound of your family deciding how much you are worth? Your worth was precisely zero at The Veil, Jeongguk. They put a collar on you to prove it to me. You ran from the painful reality of your worth and sought... validation?”

“Stop it,” Jeongguk mutters, shame burning on his exposed skin. “I came here because I– I saw your face. At the meeting. I was just running, and this was the place I remembered. I didn't plan it.”

“A landmark? I am merely a navigational beacon for a distressed wolf?” Taehyung says, his voice dripping with cunning skepticism. “I doubt that. You risked your life knowing you were trespassing on Coven land. You came here because of a specific reason. Now, tell me why.”

Jeongguk’s eyes finally snap up, raw and defeated. He searches Taehyung’s face, abandoning the lies. He gives a quiet, raw exhale. “Because… I was thinking of you.”

A beat of utter silence stretches, thick and electric. Taehyung’s gaze burns into Jeongguk.

Then, Taehyung moves. His glass of blood is placed with a quiet thunk on the coffee table. He reaches out, his hand gripping the back of Jeongguk’s neck, fingers digging into his hair, pulling Jeongguk's head up and back until their eyes lock. It’s the same gesture of dominance he used during their first encounter, but this time, it’s different. It’s charged with a different kind of hunger.

“You don’t say shit like that to me, pup,” Taehyung growls, his voice a low, rough rumble that vibrates through Jeongguk’s skull, “and expect me not to react.”

Taehyung leans in, his mouth crashing down on Jeongguk’s. It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s a furious, demanding one. Jeongguk gasps, the metallic tang of blood mixing with the feral taste of wolf. Taehyung’s hand tightens on Jeongguk’s hair, holding him captive, forcing his head back, deepening the kiss until Jeongguk feels lightheaded.

Jeongguk’s hands instinctively clench into Taehyung’s shirt, tugging him closer. His own body responds with a desperate, primal urgency, a desperate need for contact that burns through the layers of pain.

Taehyung's other hand slides down his back, splaying wide against the taut muscles of his bare spine, pressing him harder into the sofa cushions. His fingers dig into Jeongguk’s flesh, kneading, exploring the planes of his back, the texture of old scars under his touch. Jeongguk moans, a choked sound swallowed by Taehyung’s demanding mouth, his hips instinctively pressing forward, seeking purchase against the hard plane of Taehyung’s body.

Taehyung breaks the kiss only to drag his mouth along Jeongguk's jawline, down his neck, his teeth scraping lightly over the prominent bruise where the collar had been. Jeongguk’s head falls back, offering full access, his breath coming in ragged, desperate pants.

Jeongguk’s fingers tangle in Taehyung’s dark hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. His body aches with a craving he hadn’t known how to name until this very moment. Taehyung's mouth is back on his, devouring, bruising, claiming. His hips press harder against Jeongguk, a silent, powerful promise of what is to come.

Taehyung finally pulls back, their breaths ragged, their mouths swollen. His eyes, red and blazing, stare down at Jeongguk, who is panting, naked and trembling on his sofa.

“You came here because you were thinking of me,” Taehyung whispers, his voice thick with a dangerous lust. “And now you’re going to show me exactly what that means, pup.”

He shifts his weight, straddling Jeongguk, effectively pinning him to the sofa. Jeongguk can only nod, a low, guttural sound escaping his throat. His hands grip the lapels of Taehyung’s tailored coat, pulling.

Taehyung allows the aggression, a smile forming. He shrugs off the coat, letting it fall forgotten to the floor, before ripping off his own shirt with one swift, violent motion. The exposed skin of his chest is startlingly pale against Jeongguk’s sweat-dampened body.

Jeongguk pushes himself up, his powerful hands immediately spanning Taehyung’s bare waist, pulling him in, desperate to close the distance. He trails his fingers across the cold, smooth skin, finding the unexpected heat beneath.

“You’re still wearing too much,” Jeongguk rasps, his voice raw with need.

Taehyung laughs, a breathy, arrogant sound. He grips Jeongguk’s chin, forcing the wolf to look at him as he reaches down and unhooks his own restrictive leather belt, letting it drop. He pulls the zip on his trousers down just enough to free himself, his cock springing hard against the fabric.

Taehyung leans in, capturing Jeongguk’s mouth again, but this time, his attention is focused lower. His hand reaches down, finding Jeongguk’s hard cock. He grips him, a practiced, firm pressure, and Jeongguk lets out a choked sound, arching off the sofa.

Jeongguk retaliates instantly, his hand moving to Taehyung’s lowered pants, his fingers finding and closing around the vampire's dick. They begin to move simultaneously, a desperate, shared rhythm.

Taehyung watches Jeongguk’s face as he strokes. Jeongguk’s eyes are squeezed shut, his breath coming in ragged pants as the tension builds with the electrifying pleasure of this raw, forbidden contact.

“Look at me,” Taehyung commands. “You ran here. You asked for this.”

Jeongguk forces his eyes open, and the sight of Taehyung, dominant and unyielding, staring back as he brings Jeongguk to the edge, is too much. The power is unbearable.

Jeongguk’s own hand continues to stroke Taehyung, returning the pressure, feeling the slick dampness pooling between their bodies. The vampire’s skin is smooth, unlike his own rough, scarred flesh, and the contrast only heightens the urgency. Jeongguk speeds up, trying to drive Taehyung over the edge, desperate to pleasure the vampire in the same agonizing way he is being pleasured.

Taehyung groans, a low, animal sound Jeongguk has never heard. Then, Taehyung lets go of his cock, uses the side of his knee to push Jeongguk’s legs wide on the sofa. He pulls Jeongguk’s hand that was stroking his cock away and then lowers himself, settling between the wolf's thighs. Jeongguk is fully naked, exposed, and Taehyung’s hard cock presses directly against his, skin-to-skin.

The vampire guides Jeongguk’s hand back to wrap around both their lengths. With his hand still over Jeongguk’s, he begins to stroke their cocks together. 

The shock of the contact is immediate and devastating. “Fuck,” Jeongguk cries out, a half-choked sound of pleasure, as Taehyung controls the rhythm, moving slowly at first, then accelerating into a demanding, aggressive motion.

“Feels good? This is what you came for, isn’t it, pup?” Taehyung growls into Jeongguk’s ear, the strokes pushing them both closer to the edge. “To be used.”

Jeongguk can only manage a series of desperate moans, his eyes squeezed shut, the pleasure is too much.

The pleasure becomes too overwhelming and Jeongguk arches one last time against the vampire’s hand, crying out his release. Upon seeing Jeongguk’s come shoot across his abs and chest, Taehyung lets out a sharp, guttural sound and reaches his own climax, emptying himself onto the wolf’s skin, mixing their come. 

Silence falls, broken only by the sound of two beings gasping for air. Taehyung’s grip loosens, and he collapses forward, resting his forehead against Jeongguk’s sweaty shoulder, the weight of his body pressing Jeongguk deep into the sofa.

After a long minute, Taehyung pushes himself up, his eyes now cold and assessing once more. He stares down at the mess they made, then at Jeongguk’s exhausted, stunned face.

“Good puppy," Taehyung says.

–

Back at the Den, the wolves are gathered for a pack meeting before the fifth and final day of Taehyung’s deal. The air smells of damp leather and wolf musk. Jeongguk stands near the back wall, deep in the shadows, his body radiating a strange, feverish heat. He still feels Taehyung’s touch from the hours earlier today. It's a dizzying intrusion. The way their hands stroked their cocks together, the look in Taehyung’s eyes… 

Reign slams his massive fist on the table, silencing the low rumble of arguing wolves. “Tomorrow, we give the damn Coven our answer. Liron, you negotiated this garbage.”

Liron pushes his chest out, trying to appear strong. “Father, we stick to the plan. We give Ironwood and the Lycanium. It's a heavy price, but we survive. We don't need a war with the Coven now, not when our numbers are stressed.”

“And the rate cut?” Reign barks, his eyes narrowing to angry slits. “The ten percent. You told me we just have to eat that permanent bleed.”

“It’s excessive, Father, but we can absorb it,” Liron responds.

Reign throws his head back and lets out a rough, barking laugh that is pure mockery. “Absorb it? No! You missed it, Liron! You missed the entire point. That ten percent cut is not about the money. Ironwood secured their money. The Lycanium was the tax on our failure.”

“That cut is just Taehyung pissing on our heads to see if we’d lick it up! It’s pure vampire arrogance, a power play!”

Reign leans forward, spitting the words. “They are cunning, Liron, not just greedy. They knew we wouldn't start a war over money when we already lost those thermal weapons. They forced you into a corner, and you behaved exactly as that bloodsucker expected. You gave up ground they didn't even have a right to demand!”

Liron's face tightens but he maintains his composure. “I apologize, Father. I was… under pressure.”

Jeongguk watches from the back. Pressure? A deep, bitter grimace twisting his mouth. 

Reign merely sighs, waving a dismissive hand. “It's done,” he says, sparing his favored son. “Our answer tomorrow is final. We give the Ironwood Route and the Lycanium cache. But tell that arrogant bastard we refuse the rate cut. He’ll take the deal. He’s already got his prize.”

Reign shifts focus to the next item on the agenda. “Now what's with this drug bullshit I’ve been hearing lately?”

Rikard, one of the Den’s field officers, steps forward. “It's out of control, sir. The drug is called Crimson. Streets call it that because of the color– it’s this strange, shimmering red fluid in vials. It gets you high, then gives you a massive burst of speed, strength and healing. This shit is wild, Reign. And wolves are getting addicted.”

“What's the fucking cost?” Reign demands impatiently.

“Their minds,” Rikard says grimly. “Prolonged use fuels pure, uncontrollable aggression. They lose all sense of pack structure. And the overdose… if they take too much, they shift and they stay shifted. They lose all critical thought– just a rogue beast that needs to be put down. We've had to neutralize seven of our own in the last two weeks, sir. It’s tearing our numbers apart.”

Reign slams his fist down again. “Seven! Who the hell is manufacturing this trash?!”

“We don’t know. The vials are mass-produced, but the source is untraceable in the black market. It’s just appearing everywhere.”

Jeongguk listens intently, but his mind snags. Manufactured... untraceable... black market... He thinks of Taehyung, the Auction Master, who traffics in everything dangerous and forbidden. Does he have a hand in this? The memory of the vampire makes him sway slightly. Taehyung’s cold hands, sliding down my ribs. 

The wolves around the table begin arguing over patrols and countermeasures, the fear of internal collapse overshadowing the Den. Jeongguk snaps back to the meeting just as Reign points a finger directly at him.

“Jeongguk! You will handle the disposal.”

Jeongguk flinches, pulling his mind back to the present. “Sir?”

“The rogues and the infection points are concentrated around the old logging roads out East. It’s isolated. I want you out there for a week,” Reign orders. “I need the stronger wolves here. You will take the tracker and you will comb the abandoned trails for every discarded Crimson vial. Every single one, boy. If you find infected bodies that Rikard’s wolves didn't bother to remove, incinerate that shit. Clean up the trail. It needs to be done thoroughly. You hear me?”

Jeongguk nods. Reign turns back immediately to Liron and the other officers, already forgetting Jeongguk exists.

Jeongguk thinks of the seven days of solitude ahead of him, seven days to hunt for biohazardous waste and burn his pack's dead– and seven days to let his mind obsess over the cold, terrifying vampire with red eyes.

Chapter Text

The Veil is pulsing with its usual debauchery, heavy music hammering against the walls while the dance floor is a pit of glistening bodies under flashing lights. In the private booth, the bass is a muffled rhythmic thrum. The room is filled with the thick tension of two predator species, vampire and wolf.

On one side of the table sit Reign and Liron, with two heavy-set wolves flanking them, their eyes constantly scanning.

Opposite them sit Taehyung and Jin, whose postures are of bored vigilance. Their two vampire guards stand silently behind them. 

The fifth day deadline has arrived.

Taehyung offers a glacial smile. “Reign. Liron. A pleasure to see you’ve managed to arrive at the specified hour. You are much better disciplined than I anticipated.”

Reign snarls, resting his thick forearms on the table. “Cut the pleasantries, bloodsucker. We’re not here to socialize. We’re here to deliver the answer to your terms.”

Taehyung raises an elegant hand to silence him. “Before we proceed to the necessary financial unpleasantness, I must ask. Where is your little errand boy? Jeongguk. He handled the initial communication so… effectively. I trust the poor thing wasn’t put through another punishment?”

Reign stares Taehyung down. “He is where he needs to be. Working. He’s not important enough for your concern, Auction Master. Now, focus.”

Taehyung's heart sinks a fraction, a cold stone of possessive anxiety dropping in his chest. Working. Dirty grunt work, no doubt. The memory of Jeongguk, naked and squirming on his sofa, wars with the image of him collared and abused. Taehyung forces the emotion down, replacing it with a sardonic smirk.

“Very well. Then let us hear the Den’s final decision.”

Reign’s voice is rough and commanding. “We give you Ironwood– you get the deeds tomorrow. And you get the wolfium cache for your vampire research shit. You get the assets. But the ten percent rate cut? Hell no.”

Taehyung leans back, his gaze mocking. “A refusal. Imagine that. It appears the Wolf actually bothered to think for himself this morning. I must congratulate the Den for finding a sliver of courage.”

Reign glares. “It’s not courage, you arrogant bastard. It’s business. We gave you your pound of flesh. Now you take it and shove the damn rate cut up your ass.”

Taehyung chuckles, a low, smooth sound that irritates the wolves immensely. “Jin. Inform the Archivist that we accept the primary collateral and the concession of the rate cut. We always prefer the physical assets over a financial dispute. Reign, you may keep your dignity, thin as it may be. The exchange occurs at noon tomorrow.”

Having settled the terms, the atmosphere remains tense but shifts to the cause of the problem. The lost shipment.

“Now that the payment is settled, we must discuss the failure of the Blackened Run,” Jin states, his tone judgmental. “Your operational security failed spectacularly. Ninety million in weapons vanished without a trace. We require an honest assessment of your incompetence.”

Reign spits on the floor, ignoring the velvet carpet. “We failed, yeah. But we don’t know how the hell it went down, or which motherfucker did it. It wasn’t some sloppy thief. It was a professional hit.”

Liron slams his hand down. “We were targeted! The weapons vanished in transit, not on the road! You think we just dropped the damn things into a ravine? Someone hit us, and we need to figure out if it was one of your enemies or ours.”

Taehyung shrugs, utterly unimpressed. “Failure is not merely an event, gentlemen, it is a lifestyle for your security division. You lose highly volatile materials. You lose immense revenue. And now you expect us to take your word that this wasn't just gross negligence?”

“You pretentious bloodsucker!” Reign roars, his wolf voice cracking the air. “We’re saying if someone out there can lift a damn thermal payload from under our noses, then both our organizations have a serious problem. We need to get to the bottom of this Blackened Run shipment, or next time it’ll be a lot worse.”

Jin concedes, his face rigid. “Your point, though brutishly stated, holds merit. If a rival group is capable of such clean work, it threatens the stability of all our black market operations.”

Taehyung smiles thinly, tapping his fingers on the table. “Very well. We proceed with the asset exchange tomorrow. The Coven will commence its own discrete investigation into the origins of the attack. You, Reign, clean up your own mess. We agree to a temporary cessation of hostilities regarding this failure.”

Reign stands up, his movements abrupt and aggressive. “Good. We’ll investigate. And if we find out some other bloodsuckers decided to try and break us, you’ll be the first to know.”

The wolves turn and leave, the room instantly feeling lighter for their absence, though the scent of fur and anger lingers.

Taehyung turns to Jin, amusement dancing in his eyes. “They refused the rate cut. An unexpected moment of pride.”

“And you agreed instantly, Taehyung. They gained an illusion of victory while we secured the primary assets,” Jin replies.

Taehyung merely shrugs. He briefly wonders about Jeongguk’s whereabouts, recalling Reign’s dismissive comment. Working. Jeongguk’s afterglow after the pleasure of their shared release seems to linger in his mind. 

–

A few weeks later, Taehyung is in his cabin, the familiar quiet broken only by the scratching of his pen. His study desk is set up in his small bedroom, piled with auction reports.

A sudden knock echoes from the front door.

Taehyung frowns. No one in the Inner Circle announces themselves with a knock. They usually use the back entrance. He stands, gliding through the living space. 

He pulls the door open. Standing on his doorstep, magnificent and undeniable, is Jeongguk in his full wolf form, his mixed grey and black fur thick and glossy. The wolf's teeth are gently clamped around a pair of crumpled denim pants.

Taehyung manages to maintain his cool exterior, though a sharp thrill jolts through him. “Back already, pup? And bearing gifts, I see. Did you finish playing woodsman, or are you just here because you ran out of clean clothes?”

Jeongguk lets out a low huff, a sound of rough amusement, and noses the pants forward slightly.

Taehyung steps aside, allowing the massive creature entry. “Fine. Get in. But for the love of God, try to wipe the dirt off those paws before you ruin my antique carpet.”

Jeongguk shakes his body, sending a spray of fine, earthy debris onto the entryway rug. Taehyung sighs, closing the door and heading straight for the bedroom.

Jeongguk follows him and effortlessly leaps onto the center of Taehyung’s bed and settles down, watching Taehyung with curious eyes.

Taehyung returns to his desk next to the bed, sitting down and attempting to appear focused on the reports. The silence is short-lived.

In an unsettling quickness of resetting bone, Jeongguk shifts, and then a naked man sits squarely in the middle of Taehyung’s silk duvet, quickly pulling the denim pants and tugging them on.

Taehyung smirks, lifting an eyebrow but keeping his attention on the report. Nothing I haven’t seen before. He quickly recalls the heat of their last encounter before locking the memory away.

Jeongguk leans forward, his gaze fixed on the pile of papers. “What are you doing?”

Taehyung turns slightly in his chair. “Preparing the quarterly forecast for the upcoming Coven auction. It's dreadfully boring, but necessary. Now, explain yourself.”

He sets his pen down, finally turning to face Jeongguk completely. “Where, precisely, have you been, Jeongguk? You weren't at The Veil. You weren’t at the exchange. And I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Taehyung pauses. “I must confess, I found myself… wondering. I even tried to probe a little into the Den's movements, trying to locate you… Kind of…”

Jeongguk smiles, a genuine, delighted grin that transforms his face. “You tried to find me?”

Taehyung shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “It was merely strategic.”

Jeongguk’s smile fades, replaced by a deep furrow of worry. He leans back against the pillows. “The Den sent me out East, the logging trails. They needed someone to do some dirty work.”

“Dirty work being…?” Taehyung prompts, intrigued.

“They had me out there for the past few weeks, cleaning up a new internal disaster,” Jeongguk states, his voice low and serious. “A drug, Taehyung. It’s called Crimson. It’s running through the Den like a fever.”

Taehyung's posture straightens instantly, his vampire curiosity piqued. “A drug? What kind of chaos is it causing?”

“It gets you high, then delivers a massive boost of speed, strength and healing– but you also get uncontrollably aggressive. Too much and you lose your mind. It’s turning our wolves into feral beasts,” Jeongguk explains, his eyes troubled.

“The Den is concerned– it’s killing our numbers, making us unstable. I was out there collecting discarded vials and incinerating the bodies of the wolves who overdosed. The ones who turned rogue and were killed.”

“Incinerating bodies. That is dirty work,” Taehyung says, his mind already calculating the instability this could cause. “A drug that targets the physical nature of wolves? That’s highly specific, Jeongguk. Who's manufacturing this?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “We don’t know. It’s completely untraceable on the black market. It’s just appearing everywhere.”

Jeongguk reaches into the pocket of the pants he's wearing and pulls out a small, glass vial. He holds it up in the lamplight. “This is what I was cleaning up.”

Taehyung leans forward, his eyes fixed on the object. The vial contains only a few drops of residue– a viscous, thin film of shimmering, ruby-red liquid clinging to the bottom of the glass.

“Interesting,” Taehyung murmurs, reaching out. He takes the vial from Jeongguk, his fingers brushing the wolf's palm, a jolt of heat passing between them.

He turns the vial over slowly, observing the strange luminescence of the residual drug. “Highly refined. Potent. Looks like some professional work. Huh.” He stares at the liquid for a moment more before setting the vial carefully on his desk. “Seems like I have some research to do.”

The topic of the Crimson drug ends there. Taehyung's gaze moves slowly from the vial over to Jeongguk’s body– up and down. The planes of his abdomen, the powerful junction of his thighs where the denim is stretched over.

“It has been a while, Jeongguk,” Taehyung says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register that dismisses the reports and the drug. “After weeks of you being… unavailable… I’ve found myself thinking of you entirely too much.”

Jeongguk stares back, his eyes dark with immediate, burning desire. “Yeah?”

Taehyung nods. 

Then, Jeongguk slides further back onto the pillows, opening his stance slightly. “Then stop thinking,” Jeongguk challenges, his voice tight with need. “Show me what you do when you can’t find me.”

Taehyung stands up, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape against the floor. He moves to the bed in two purposeful steps and crawls onto the edge of the mattress, leaning over Jeongguk, his hands bracing on the pillows on either side of the wolf’s head.

He leans down and kisses Jeongguk, a deep, possessive reclamation. Jeongguk responds instantly, surging up and wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s neck, pulling him down onto the soft duvet.

The kiss is slow, devouring, charged with weeks of unspoken tension. Taehyung slides one hand into Jeongguk’s thick hair, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss, while the other hand drops down, cupping Jeongguk’s hard, straining length through the rough denim of his jeans.

Jeongguk groans into the kiss, his hips involuntarily pushing upward to meet the heavy, cool pressure of the vampire's palm. Jeongguk's own hands, hot and eager, leave Taehyung's neck and begin aggressively groping the vampire's waist and hips, searching for skin. He trails his fingers under the silk shirt, feeling the smooth flesh beneath.

Taehyung breaks the kiss to breathe. “You have a talent for distracting me, pup. I have a report to finish.”

Jeongguk lets out a low, desperate sound. “You’re not going anywhere.” He grabs the collar of Taehyung’s shirt and yanks him back down, initiating another searing kiss, the hard, possessive pressure of Taehyung’s palm against his erection making his mind go blissfully blank.

Taehyung begins to trail kisses down Jeongguk’s jaw, moving slowly to the pulse point in his neck, sucking a brief, possessive mark. He continues his journey, his mouth wet and cold against the fever of Jeongguk’s skin, down the expanse of the wolf’s powerful chest, past the muscled abdomen, pausing at the tight denim waistband.

He tugs at the denim, then pulls the zipper down in one smooth motion. He grabs the fabric at the knees and pulls, stripping Jeongguk of the only piece of clothing he's wearing.

Taehyung tosses the pants over the edge of the bed. “Really, Jeongguk, you didn’t need these anyway.”

Jeongguk pants, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I brought them to be polite.”

Taehyung chuckles, a breathy, arrogant sound, fully dressed in his pristine silk shirt and trousers, a stark contrast to the exposed, panting wolf before him.

He uses his hands to smooth over Jeongguk's stomach, moving down to grab his hips. 

Then, Taehyung lowers his head, the tip of his tongue brushing against the head of Jeongguk's hard cock. Jeongguk gasps, his breath hitching. 

Taehyung leans in more, his tongue tracing the head before pulling back, teasing. Jeongguk feels his heart pounding in anticipation. Taehyung’s mouth closes gently around the sensitive head, a tentative, teasing pressure. He draws back slowly, then returns, his tongue tracing the delicate vein along the underside of the cock before pulling back again. He maintains eye contact with Jeongguk, ensuring the wolf registers every moment of pleasure coming his way.

When he finally relents the teasing and wraps his mouth around Jeongguk’s cock, the wolf lets out a loud moan. Taehyung's movements are rhythmic, bobbing up and down the length, pulling away to drag his tongue down Jeongguk’s cock before plunging back into a deep, full draw that pulls a choked sound from Jeongguk’s throat.

Jeongguk’s back arches, his muscles tightening, the sudden flood of pleasure overwhelming every survival instinct.

“Holy shit,” Jeongguk manages to gasp out, the words ripped from his lungs.

Taehyung shifts again, adding a hand to cup the heavy balls beneath his cock, while his mouth deepens its assault. He increases the pace, the steady sucking and bobbing driving the wolf higher, his breath hot and demanding. The vampire’s silk shirt brushes against Jeongguk's bare thighs with every perfect, merciless stroke.

Jeongguk’s hands, which were bracing on the bed, shoot up. He grips Taehyung’s dark hair, not in demand, but in a desperate, pleading attempt to control the speed and depth of the action.

Taehyung ignores the pull, only increasing the speed, his mouth becoming an instrument of absolute pleasure. Jeongguk is trembling, unable to form words, only ragged moans.

The wolf starts to buck, his hips driving upward, trying to find release. Taehyung’s hands grip Jeongguk's hips, pinning him hard against the mattress, demanding submission.

“Hold still, pup,” Taehyung pulls away slightly and growls against the heat before going back in. The words vibrate through Jeongguk’s core.

Jeongguk only manages a whimper, entirely at the vampire's mercy. Taehyung holds him still, increasing the pressure, head bobbing up and down and pushing Jeongguk closer and closer to the breaking point, until his entire body is convulsing with need.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna come,” Jeongguk warns. Just as his release threatens to overwhelm him, Taehyung breaks away, pulling his mouth free with a soft slurp. The sudden loss of contact makes Jeongguk let out a whine. 

But Taehyung grabs his cock with an iron grip, beginning to deliver fast, brutal strokes. The climax hits Jeongguk like a blinding light. He comes against the vampire's hand and spills his seed across his own stomach and chest, panting, completely spent.

Taehyung lets go of Jeongguk's cock and retrieves a handkerchief from the bedside table to wipe his hand clean. He looks down at Jeongguk with a sly grin on his lips, staring at how the wolf’s chest is heaving, eyes still half-closed in stunned recovery.

“Now, that was fun,” Taehyung says. 

Jeongguk manages a weak, shaky laugh. He catches his breath, staring at the ceiling, then slowly, his eyes drift down Taehyung’s body.

“You’re still hard,” Jeongguk notes, his voice rough.

Taehyung follows Jeongguk’s gaze to his own fully hard cock, a visible bulge on his thin trousers. He smirks, red eyes glinting with lust. He settles back slightly on his heels, letting his eyes move back to the wolf’s face.

“I think it’s time for you to return the favor.”

Jeongguk freezes, his body tense, the breathless aftermath of his climax abruptly replaced by sharp, awkward hesitation. He looks around the room, avoiding Taehyung’s eyes.

Taehyung, still poised above him, notices the sudden shift from primal lust to profound shyness. He arches his brow. “What is it? Cat got your tongue, or did the sight of my impatience finally scare off the wolf?”

Jeongguk glances down, then away, shuffling his weight on the bed. “I’ve just… never…” he trails off, his voice thick.

The corner of Taehyung’s lips quirks up into a cruel, knowing smile. He finishes the sentence with an audible click of his tongue. “Sucked a cock?”

Jeongguk looks even more awkward, color rising high on his cheeks, and admits, quietly, “Well, yes. And… I’ve never actually… been with a man...”

Taehyung stills completely, the last remnants of his mockery vanishing. He stares at Jeongguk, slightly lost for a moment. “But our first… ah, endeavor,” he refers to their jerk off session few weeks ago. “You seemed to have known what you were doing.”

Jeongguk glances around the room again, sheepishly. “It wasn't that hard to figure out. I have a cock. I know what feels good. I just… thought of what would have felt good to me and applied it to you that time.”

Taehyung recovers his calm, a new, possessive fascination replacing the surprise. He smooths a hand over Jeongguk’s hair. “So, sucking dick is not that different. It’s simply applying that same thought process.” He pauses, his gaze heavy. “Unless… you don’t want to?” He makes to pull his body back.

“No!” Jeongguk’s hand shoots out and grabs Taehyung’s arm, his grip strong and desperate, instantly stopping the movement. “No, I want to. I just…” He trails off, the unspoken worry evident on his face. I don’t know if I’d be good at it. If I’d satisfy you.

Taehyung reads the vulnerability instantly and his eyes soften slightly, though his tone remains low and dominant. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll guide you.”

Jeongguk stares at Taehyung for a moment before he nods, his eyes mixed with uncertainty and anticipation. “How do you want me?”

Taehyung repositions them fluidly. He sits on the edge of the bed and gently guides Jeongguk to the floor, settling the naked wolf on his knees between his open legs.

Taehyung goes to unbutton his trousers and his erection springs free, hanging inches from Jeongguk’s face, thick and heavy, with a throbbing pulse.

Jeongguk is visibly nervous, staring at the big, hard cock in front of him. He takes a long, slow breath, collecting his courage, intimidated by the hardness waiting for him.

Finally, he leans forward.

He begins with uncertainty, his tongue tentatively licking the precome from the smooth, slicked head. He licks again, then slowly begins to trace the length and the tight underside, his motions hesitant but earnest. He licks the full length of the cock, moving his mouth along the strong vein, trying to find a rhythm.

Then, with a decisive surge of bravery, Jeongguk opens his mouth and wraps it around Taehyung’s shaft. He's still unsure, the sucking is tentative at first, but he applies himself with a determined focus, drawing on the memory of what Taehyung did to him. He starts to move with a rhythm, the bobbing movement slow, his technique raw.

Taehyung groans, the sound sharp and breathy, instantly confirming Jeongguk's effect. He reaches out, gripping the back of Jeongguk’s hair, gently guiding the motion. “That’s good, Jeongguk. Keep going.”

Encouraged by the praise and the sound of the vampire’s pleasure, Jeongguk’s confidence swells. He starts to suck harder, deeper, his head bobbing now with increased speed, his focus fixed solely on delivering pleasure.

When Taehyung can’t take the passive enjoyment anymore, his control snaps. With a low, desperate grunt, he tightens his grip on Jeongguk's hair, pulling the wolf forward. He stops guiding Jeongguk and begins to actively control him, thrusting his hips up and fucking the wolf’s mouth.

Jeongguk lets out a muffled groan, the thrusts aggressive and deep. He lets Taehyung abuse his mouth, accommodating the vampire's length as best he can, moaning roughly against his cock.

Taehyung looks down, his vision blurred by lust. The sight of Jeongguk, naked, on his knees, his mouth working desperately around the vampire’s cock, is maddeningly erotic. He loves the power of being fully dressed, while the wolf is completely naked. He watches the curve of Jeongguk’s spine, the tight, plush ass, and groans at how sexy Jeongguk looks getting fucked in the throat.

“Fuck, your throat is so tight,” Taehyung curses, the words vibrating with raw pleasure.

He pushes Jeongguk down, plunging his cock deeper. Jeongguk gags, his throat constricting, but he doesn't pull away. He continues sucking the cock into his throat, the sound wet, sloppy and punctuated by gurgling sounds and spit drooling down his chin to his chest.

Taehyung continues to fuck his throat, hard and fast, the anticipation of his orgasm rushing him. He tightens his grip, pulling Jeongguk in, letting the torturous pleasure of the deep, tight suction push him over the edge.

“I’m coming,” Taehyung says with a final, guttural shout, pulling his cock completely free of Jeongguk’s mouth, the slick sound echoing in the small room. He comes violently, a thick, hot wave of seed spraying across Jeongguk’s face, staining his nose, cheeks, and lips.

Both men pant, catching their breath in the strained silence.

Taehyung’s hand, still on Jeongguk’s hair, shifts. His hand brushes across Jeongguk’s cheek, collecting some of the wet, white come with his thumb before pushing it deliberately into the wolf’s swollen mouth.

Jeongguk accepts the command, his lips closing around Taehyung’s thumb, sucking the residue clean.

Taehyung stares down at him, his voice low and thick with satisfaction. “Look at you, pup.” His hand slides from his face to the column of Jeongguk’s throat, his fingers resting gently on the scar tissue. “All fucked out, just for me.”

He stares at the wolf on the floor– naked, hair a mess, lips red and swollen, glistening with come.

“My beautiful cock slut.”

Jeongguk only responds with a tremble and a nod. 

–

A candle burns brightly in the middle of the conference chamber. The Inner Circle gather around a crescent-shaped table. 

“I had to close the deal on that last shipment of captured Ghoul relics myself,” Jimin comments, delicately adjusting the cuff of his suit. “The seller tried to leverage the price, claiming historical significance. I reminded him that historical significance is only valuable if you survive to tell the tale.”

“A crude maneuver, but effective, I suppose,” Jin drawls, taking a slow sip of his blood-wine. “I hate dealing with mortals. Their negotiations are so transparent. Did you remember to secure the actual contracts for the docks, Jimin? The paper trail’s a mess lately.”

“The paperwork is handled, Jin. Always,” Jimin replies. “I simply ensure the Coven receives what it is owed.”

Taehyung breaks the conversation, bored with the administrative posturing. “Contracts aside, Yoongi, you requested this briefing. Has something of substance occurred to warrant interrupting my quiet contemplation?”

All the vampires’ attention move to the Shadow Regent. Yoongi clears his throat. “It is substantive, Auction Master. Three nights ago, we had an incident at the Obsidian Vault. A lone male wolf breached the perimeter. Three of our vampires– veteran field operatives– were killed before the creature was neutralized.”

The announcement is met with a collective, sharp intake of breath.

Jin leans forward, disbelief twisting his perfect features. “A lone wolf. Killed three of our men? Yoongi, are you certain this wolf was not operating with backup? That’s absurd.”

“Absolutely certain, Sentinel,” Yoongi confirms, his face grim. “It was solitary, operating with a savage, reckless efficiency that we've never observed from the Den. It took five more vampires and a full silver-net deployment to subdue the beast. And we still only managed to kill it.”

Jimin raises a hand, cutting to the core of the issue. “A solitary wolf should not possess the strength or speed to bypass three armored vampires. What was its state?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “That is the anomaly. It was frothing at the mouth. Its movements were too fast, almost unnatural. When we finally pinned it, we saw its eyes.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully.

“They weren't the common blue of their species. They were a bizarre, strange, shimmering red. It was focused on nothing but pure, unadulterated slaughter. It wouldn't listen to commands or threats. It only sought to attack.”

Taehyung nods slowly, his mind connecting the facts to Jeongguk’s sudden reappearance and the contents of his story. “A rogue wolf. Not just feral, but something chemically induced.”

Jin scoffs, dismissing the greater threat for the known enemy. “Perhaps this is the Den’s answer to the Blackened Run debt. An act of desperation and revenge, sacrificing one of their own to send a violent message.”

Yoongi shakes his head with certainty. “The Den would not do this, Sentinel. They just ceded two major assets to avoid war. Furthermore, this attack was sloppy, noisy and inefficient. The Den is not that messy. This wolf was fundamentally broken.”

Taehyung reaches into the inner pocket of his coat and withdraws the vial Jeongguk left on his desk– the vial with the unsettling, shimmering residue. He sets it on the table.

“Perhaps, gentlemen, this broken state has a name,” Taehyung states, his voice smooth and controlled. “A small specimen passed through my sector of the black market recently. It's currently being referred to on the streets as Crimson. And I should warn you, no one seems to know its origin or manufacturer.”

He pushes the vial toward Jin first. Jin picks it up, turning it under the light.

“The consistency is thick... metallic,” Jin observes, passing it to Yoongi. “And the coloration is entirely unnatural. It doesn’t look organic.”

Yoongi examines it, his focus sharp. “If this is a drug, its refinement is unlike anything we’ve tracked before. If it grants the kind of power that can kill three vampires, this is a profound threat.” He hands it to Jimin.

Jimin holds the vial up to his eye. “It has a dangerous beauty to it. It shimmers. Where did you obtain this, Auction Master? A discreet sale?”

Taehyung leans back, his composure flawless. My puppy gave it to me. “I acquired it after conversing with several excitable patrons at the auction house who were discussing new commodities. One was careless enough to leave this residual vial on a chaise. I claimed it this morning for analysis,” he lies instead. 

Jin stares at Taehyung, then back at the vial. “If this Crimson is what allowed that wolf to tear through three of our guards, and the Den is now riddled with this poison, then the Den is no longer a political rival. It is a contagion that must be contained, or it will spill into our territories.”

Jimin sets the vial down, his eyes hard. “This kind of advanced biochemistry is not Coven expertise. We cannot reverse-engineer it.”

He looks at the three other vampires with a sour expression. “But we desperately need to figure out what’s in this drug, what is making the wolves rogue, and most importantly, the source of it.”

The Inner Circle hums with agreement. 

“I think it’s time for us to pay a certain witch a visit.”

Chapter Text

Taehyung and Jimin stand outside The Witch's Hut, a structure that defies geometry– all mismatched wood, moss and a perpetually smoking chimney. The contrast between the Coven's manor and this organic chaos is jarring.

The front yard is supposed to be a garden, but Taehyung doesn't really like to call it a garden because there's no flowers. Instead, giant, fleshy leaves quiver in the non-existent breeze, bioluminescent moss glows sickly green in the shadows.

Jimin steps gingerly over a large, vein-like root. “This place gives me the creeps every time, Taehyung. The air smells like sulfur and regret.” He stops beside a cluster of plants that resemble large, pale ears, which emit soft, sighing sounds when touched by the wind.

Taehyung, meticulous even in his boots, wrinkles his nose. “I agree. It lacks aesthetic discipline. One can appreciate nature without letting it colonize one’s walkways. Look at that,” he gestures toward a patch of deep blue fungi that releases thin, melancholy wisps of smoke. “It looks like disappointment made solid.”

Taehyung pauses near a coiled, green vine, which moves oddly. It sways and twitches strangely, kind of like dancing, entirely independent of the wind. Taehyung steps closer for a better look, and the vine snaps outward suddenly, baring tiny needle-like teeth and lunging for Taehyung’s ankle.

Taehyung curses, jumping back with an unexpected flash of speed, narrowly avoiding the strike. “Jesus Christ!”

Jimin eyes the retreating vine with irritation. “See? That one wasn’t there the last time I came here.”

They finally reach the battered wooden door, and Taehyung rings the doorbell– a rusty, oversized iron bell that’s painfully loud.

A loud crash and muffled voices precede the sound of heavy shuffling. The door swings inward to reveal Namjoon, a tall witch with bright, distracted eyes. Behind him, slightly shorter, is his wife, Elara, wiping a splash of purple liquid off her apron.

“Taehyung! Jimin!” Namjoon greets them.

Taehyung smoothly pulls the vial from his coat pocket and holds it out. “This is what we were talking about in our call, Namjoon.”

Namjoon peers at the shimmering red film. “Ah, yes. Crimson.”

They step inside. The hut is a whirlwind of organized chaos. Copper tubing runs everywhere. Shelves are filled with preserved organs, labelled jars of liquids, and dusty spellbooks. The air is warm and smells strongly of sulfur and old parchment.

This entire house is a fire hazard, Taehyung thinks, surveying the bubbling, precarious environment. And the most reliable place to analyze a weaponized wolf drug. He suppresses a grimace.

Elara takes the vial, walking to a complex apparatus mounted on a wooden stand. “I’ll start the elemental breakdown,” she says. 

Jimin drifts toward a stand containing various glass eyeballs floating in saltwater. He taps the glass with his finger, an unreadable expression on his face.

Namjoon stands beside his wife, adjusting the crystals attached to the equipment. “So, Jimin, what’s the consensus from the Inner Circle? You all think this is an internal wolf power struggle, yes?”

Jimin looks over from the eyeballs. “We think the wolves are too terrified of us right now to pull something so blatantly suicidal. But the strength of that single wolf was extraordinary. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Taehyung addresses Namjoon. “The effect is feral, homicidal and produces a unique, alarming eye coloration. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Elara nods, watching a line graph bloom across the analyzer’s viewing screen. “The sample is degraded, but the concentration of the base components is clear. We found out what this stuff is made of, all right. It’s a wolf-specific bio-catalyst.”

Namjoon points to the screen. “The primary base is a highly concentrated form of Enhanced Iron Oxide– that explains the initial aggressive boost in muscle and the healing. You can find that anywhere. There are also trace elements of Euphoria– that's what's getting them high. Also too common.”

Elara continues, adjusting a crystal. “But the third element… this is the active component that's causing the rogue state and the addiction. It is a highly refined extraction of The Red Bloom.”

Taehyung's eyes narrow. “The Red Bloom. A specialized herb?”

“Specialized is an understatement,” Namjoon confirms. “It’s why this only works on wolves. The Red Bloom reacts specifically with the wolf gene structure, overriding the higher brain functions. It makes them hyper-aggressive, essentially a monster driven only by instinct. It’s an interesting and highly dangerous concoction.”

“Does The Witch Order know of this formula? Do you know the origin?” Taehyung asks.

Elara sighs, shaking her head. “No, this is not the Order’s work. Our witches work on things that are profitable and predictable, not biological time bombs. Whoever developed this is working completely outside the network. They’re either incredibly skilled or have centuries of forgotten texts to draw from.”

Jimin stops examining the eyeballs and steps towards the pair. “So we have a rogue biochemist with a genius level understanding of wolf biology. They are targeting the Den for an unknown reason, which, in turn, threatens us. The Den is our stable source of conflict and commerce.” Jimin pauses, thinking. “Now we need to figure out where to find this Crimson Witch.”

Taehyung taps the wooden table with a single, slow finger. “If the Order doesn’t know the source, we need a trail. Where does The Red Bloom come from? Is it common?”

Namjoon and Elara look at each other.

“It's not common at all,” Elara says seriously. “The plant grows exclusively in deep subterranean environments– caverns, forgotten mines, deep geological fissures. It’s incredibly difficult to harvest and refine.”

Namjoon adds, “Specifically, the highest concentration and quality of The Red Bloom is only found in the old, abandoned Gloomstone Mine Network in the northern mountains. It's the only place with the right mineral runoff to support such a large growth.”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look. “The Gloomstone Mine Network. That gives us a location to start,” Taehyung notes.

Jimin nods, his focus shifting to the next move. “It’s remote. Difficult terrain. We will need to ask the Gargoyles about it.”

Taehyung looks from the vial to the witch's messy laboratory, a grimace tightening his elegant features.

“Great. I hope we don't have to trade our suits for mining gear.”

–

The ascent to The Citadel is brutal. Built high into the northern mountains, the Gargoyle Syndicate fortress is a sprawl of harsh, black stone, blending almost perfectly with the icy peaks. The air is thin, and a biting wind whips snow across the narrow, rock-cut path leading to the entrance.

Taehyung, wearing a heavy, fur-lined coat that still feels thin, shivers theatrically.

“This terrain, Jimin. Truly barbaric. We have wards for controlling the elements. Why do they insist on living where the air tries to claw your eyes out?”

Jimin, slightly less affected but equally miserable, adjusts his gloves. “It’s part of the deterrent, Taehyung. Plus, their biology is stone. They find comfort in the elements that would destroy us. Look at them.”

He gestures to a massive turret where two gargoyles are perched, unmoving, their forms indistinguishable from the stone until a flicker of light catches their obsidian eyes.

“They’re so stoic. They never flinch, they never change expression. It’s unnerving,” Jimin comments.

Taehyung scoffs. “It’s theatrics. Imagine the internal monologue of a gargoyle. ‘Must. Remain. Still. Think of rocks. Think of silence.’”

They reach the main archway, flanked by two guards even larger than the ones on the turret. They stand utterly motionless, their wings folded tightly against their backs, carved muscles taut. They are armed with massive axes that look like extensions of their own stony limbs.

Taehyung stops a few feet away, addressing the silent gargoyle on the left. “We are from the Vampire Coven. We require an audience with the Head of the Syndicate.”

The gargoyle’s only response is a slow, grinding shift of its head. Its voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, like granite sliding on granite.

“Name.”

“Blood Archivist Jimin and Auction Master Taehyung,” Jimin clarifies impatiently. 

The second gargoyle guard steps forward and motions with a short, thick arm toward the interior. “Follow.”

They are led down a twisting, torch-lit passage carved directly into the mountain. The tunnel opens into a vast, circular chamber. It’s where Hoseok, the Head of the Syndicate, holds court.

Hoseok is not on a throne, but perched on a high, rough ledge overlooking the central fire pit. He is bulkier than the guards, his stones etched with ancient symbols.

Hoseok doesn’t move or speak until the guard retreats. He simply stares down at the two vampires.

Taehyung steps forward, immediately getting to the point. “Hoseok. We are here regarding a matter of mutual security. A new poison is circulating, targeting the wolves, called Crimson.”

Hoseok’s only acknowledgment is a slight tilt of his head.

Jimin places the now empty vial of residue on a nearby stone table. “The drug is highly advanced. It caused a wolf to turn feral, capable of killing three of our vampires. Our analysis traced the active ingredient, The Red Bloom, to a single location. The Gloomstone Mine Network.”

Hoseok’s eyes– the only part of him that moves– flicker down to the vial, then back to the vampires. “Our ground.”

“Precisely,” Taehyung confirms. “While the mine is abandoned, it's under your territorial domain. We are not equipped for deep mining expeditions. You are the masters of the subterranean. We require access, and more importantly, your expertise to conduct a thorough sweep of the network. We are hunting the manufacturer– the Crimson Witch.”

Taehyung continues, his voice sharp with urgency. “This substance turns a wolf into a mindless weapon, and it is highly addictive. If the Crimson Witch is allowed to continue production, the Den will fall into anarchy, and that anarchy will inevitably flood your mountain borders and ours. We are facing a biological weapon against a rival species, which creates an uncontrollable pestilence for everyone.”

Hoseok speaks, his voice a low, echoing bass that seems to vibrate through the stone floor. “Deal accepted.”

Taehyung smiles, leaning forward. “Then the Coven will compensate you handsomely for the deployment of your resources. What are your terms, Hoseok?”

Hoseok fixes Taehyung with an unnervingly direct stare. “Search. We do.”

“You wish to conduct the search entirely yourself?” Jimin asks, surprised by the total exclusion.

“Yes,” Hoseok rumbles. “Our tunnels. Our risk. Our assets.”

Taehyung nods, understanding the territorial imperative. “And the terms? Gold? Favors?”

“Terms simple. Six tons. Refined Astralite.”

Taehyung’s smile vanishes. He knew the terms would be high, but the amount demanded for the rare, Coven-controlled material was outrageous. Refined Astralite was a complex, treated metal used to reinforce their highest defensive wards. 

Jimin immediately interjects. “Hoseok, with respect, that is not simple. Six tons of Astralite is half our annual strategic reserve. We are asking for a security sweep, not the full rebuilding of The Citadel. We're not paying a war levy.” Jimin holds Hoseok’s stoic gaze, maintaining his composure.

 “Witch dangerous. Mines dangerous. Terms fair.” Hoseok stares at Jimin, unimpressed.

“Then, we can agree to three tons of Astralite, not six, delivered immediately upon the successful completion of the sweep. This is a fair rate for the current risk assessment and the short timeframe required.”

Hoseok remains still, his large, stony eyes considering the counter-offer. The silence stretches, filled only by the crackle of the central fire. Finally, Hoseok gives a curt, decisive nod.

“Three tons. Agree.”

Taehyung looks at Jimin, a flicker of grudging approval in his eyes before he turns back to the gargoyle leader. “Excellent. You'll deploy your units into the mines and help us find this Witch.” Taehyung pauses, his face twisting into a grimace that speaks volumes about this current situation.

“I have a feeling our partnership with the wolves is about to get a whole lot more complicated.”

–

The lake is a dark, smooth mirror reflecting the bright, indifferent moon. Jeongguk, in human form, cuts through the cool water with powerful strokes, the moonlight catching the spray from his arms. He dives, reveling in the silence of the depths, the pure freedom of his naked body in the cold embrace of the water. 

A low, familiar voice drifts from the shore. “Enjoying your aquatic display, puppy? One would think a creature of the forest would prefer solid ground. Or perhaps you’re just attempting to wash away the scent of your latest grim task.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, though a small smile touches his lips. He turns in the water, treading lazily. Taehyung stands on the rocky bank, impeccably dressed in his usual attire, looking utterly out of place amidst the raw nature. He hasn't dared to approach the water's edge, clearly unwilling to risk a single splash on his suit.

“Stalking me again, Auction Master?” Jeongguk asks, a playful challenge in his tone. “Did you miss my humble company that much?”

Taehyung scoffs, playing with the gold signet ring on his finger. “Hardly. I was merely… ensuring my asset hadn’t wandered too far off the leash.”

Jeongguk just laughs, the sound rich and free. “I was running again. Needed to clear my head after… everything. Just kept going until I found this place. It’s quiet here.” He floats on his back for a moment, letting the water support him, the moonlight painting his body in shades of silver and shadow.

Taehyung moves, settling onto a dry, smooth rock at the very edge of the lake, still careful to keep his clothes from getting wet. He watches Jeongguk, his gaze intense, assessing, appreciative. The moonlight catches the water beading on Jeongguk’s skin, outlining the powerful muscles and the faint scars that tell tales of a hard life. 

Taehyung’s internal thought is a low, reverent hum. Beautiful. Truly, stunningly beautiful Jeongguk. The wolf, free and unburdened in the natural world, is an ethereal, wild thing.

Taehyung breaks the silence. “Quiet might be in short supply soon, pup. Your ‘grim task’ has become rather central to Coven concerns.”

Jeongguk turns over, treading water near the bank, listening. “Oh yeah?”

Taehyung’s expression darkens. “Three nights ago, a single, rogue wolf breached our Obsidian Vault. Killed three of our vampires before it could be put down. Took five more to do it.”

Jeongguk’s easy demeanor vanishes. He stops swimming, his face etched with dreadful understanding. “A rogue wolf… that powerful? Was it… shimmering red eyes?”

Taehyung nods slowly. “Indeed. Frothing at the mouth, pure berserker rage. Your initial cleanup was rather more significant than I first assumed. The vial you left me, pup, proved immensely helpful.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen slightly. “Yeah? I’m glad it helped. My old man would’ve just left it to rot at the Boneyard.”

“It did,” Taehyung continues, a hint of his earlier humor returning. “Jimin and I paid a visit to a witch to analyze the residue. Quite the establishment. Their garden looked like an alien biology lesson, full of plants that sigh and try to bite you, and their lab was an array of bubbling jars and weird equipment.”

Jeongguk snorts, a genuine sound of amusement. “Sounds fun. What did they find?”

“They confirmed your initial assessment. The Crimson drug is a highly advanced, wolf-specific bio-catalyst. And the active ingredient, The Red Bloom, only grows in the deep subterranean environment of the Gloomstone Mine Network.” Taehyung explains, watching Jeongguk’s reaction to the information, noting the shift in his gaze as he speaks of the mine.

As Taehyung talks, Jeongguk is unconsciously reaching into the shallow water near the bank. He pulls up a handful of small, smooth, river stones. But among them are tiny, raw crystals, the size of his thumbnail, that shimmer with an internal, deep scarlet. He begins to meticulously thread them onto a piece of dried vine, a thin, pliant string from a submerged plant.

“So, you found the source,” Jeongguk murmurs, still listening, still working on his impromptu craft. “Good. That means we can finally put an end to this damn Crimson drug. It’s causing chaos in the Den.”

Taehyung continues, a wry smile touching his lips. “Not quite so simple. The mine network falls under the territory of the Gargoyle Syndicates. Jimin and I had to make a rather unpleasant trip to The Citadel.” He shivers dramatically, recalling the cold. “Imagine living in a mountain full of snow, where the gargoyles communicate in grunts and one-syllable demands. We managed to convince them to search the mines for us.”

Jeongguk looks up, his eyes wide. “The great Coven needs help from the Gargoyles? That must have bruised some egos.”

Taehyung chuckles, a low, pleased sound. “Bruised, yes. But we acquired results.”

Jeongguk finishes his work, tying a knot. He then swims silently toward Taehyung, stopping where the water is chest-deep, his naked body close to the shore, glistening in the moonlight. He reaches out, taking Taehyung’s hand.

Taehyung’s heart gives an unexpected, hard thump at the intimate touch.

Jeongguk gently binds the small, crystal bracelet around Taehyung’s wrist. The scarlet crystals glow faintly against Taehyung’s pale skin, catching the moonlight.

“What's this, pup?” Taehyung asks, curious. 

Jeongguk looks up, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s. “These crystals… they reminded me of your eyes, Taehyung. Scarlet. That exact shade of red. I thought it would suit you.”

Taehyung feels a jolt, sharp and unwelcome, straight to his core. His heart, long believed to be cold and unchanging, thumps again, a heavy, insistent beat against his ribs. Reminded him of my eyes. A gesture of such raw, unexpected tenderness.

Jeongguk’s gaze drops to Taehyung’s face, then to the water. “Join me?” he asks, a soft, almost imperceptible tug on Taehyung’s hand, inviting him into the cool, dark embrace of the lake.

Taehyung, the calculating Auction Master, the cold manipulator, finds himself unable to refuse. Not when Jeongguk, bathed in moonlight, looking utterly ethereal and beautiful and primal, is asking him. He stands, the decision made.

With swift, elegant movements, Taehyung strips off his coat, then his trousers, his shirt, discarding them carefully on the dry rock, unwilling to let even a drop of water touch them. Completely naked, he dives cleanly into the lake.

He surfaces with a gasp, the cold water a shock against his ancient skin. He shakes his head, sending droplets flying. “That’s… refreshing. Or perhaps just freezing.”

Jeongguk laughs, a genuine, joyful sound, and swims closer. “You’ll get used to it, vampire.”

Taehyung closes the distance between them, pushing through the cool water until their bodies touch. He pulls Jeongguk in close, his arms wrapping around the wolf’s waist, feeling the firm, warm skin beneath his hands. Jeongguk’s arms, wet and strong, make their way around Taehyung’s neck, pulling him down.

Their mouths meet in the moonlight– a kiss that starts soft and tender, quickly escalating. It's intimate, raw in its hunger. The cold water swirls around their entangled limbs, but their bodies ignite under the silent sky.

Their tongues tangle, an urgent exploration mirroring the tension that has coiled between them for weeks. Jeongguk lets out a low, thick moan against Taehyung’s mouth as their hips instinctively begin to move, rubbing their cocks against each other fiercely. The friction of their slick, hard bodies in the cool lake water sends shocks of heat radiating through them.

Jeongguk grinds into Taehyung with aggressive need, and Taehyung matches his rhythm, his own deep moans vibrating against the wolf’s lips.

Taehyung's hands stray down from Jeongguk’s waist to his hips, then finally to his ass. He cups the heavy, firm globes, squeezing the muscle and lifting Jeongguk slightly to deepen the angle of their grinding. Jeongguk groans, the sound swallowed by the kiss, his legs kicking gently to keep them afloat as he focuses entirely on the pleasure of the contact.

Taehyung pulls back his mouth only enough to suck harshly on Jeongguk’s jawline, his other hand moving with predatory precision. One hand remains on the curve of Jeongguk's ass, spreading an ass cheek slightly to the side, while the fingers of his other hand trace the sensitive crease until they settle firmly against the warm, tight hole.

Jeongguk gasps at the sudden, unfamiliar sensation, his body going rigid. No one has ever touched him there, and the touch sends a spike of nervousness mixed with sheer arousal through him.

Taehyung feels the vulnerability, but keeps the pressure gentle, looking into Jeongguk’s wide, blue eyes to gauge the reaction. Jeongguk lets out a shaky moan and relaxes, wrapping his arms tightly around Taehyung’s shoulders, silently giving permission.

Taehyung leans in, kissing Jeongguk's neck, tasting the cold water and the hot skin beneath it. He begins to rub the sensitive spot rhythmically, increasing the pressure and speed as they continue the intense frotting. Jeongguk whimpers at the aggressive, unexpected pleasure. The combined sensations– the full-body friction and the sharp focus on his most sensitive area– send a dizzying wave through him. He feels lightheaded, lost in the intensity.

Jeongguk instinctively wraps one of his legs around Taehyung’s waist, spreading his stance wider and giving Taehyung greater access to his ass.

Taehyung pulls back slightly to look down at the wolf, his scarlet eyes blazing in the moonlight, his voice husky with raw need. "That's right, baby. Give it to me. Let me feel you go soft in my hands. So good."

He increases the speed, his fingers rubbing Jeongguk's hole mercilessly while their cocks grind together, slick skin on slick skin. Jeongguk throws his head back, his neck arched, utterly undone, only low, ragged moans escaping him.

Taehyung pulls him back into a kiss, swallowing the wolf's moans as his tongue explores Jeongguk’s mouth. The vampire lets out his own moans as the sensation and pleasure builds up, intense and explosive. Jeongguk suddenly pulls away from the kiss, hiding his face in the crook of Taehyung’s shoulder, his body writhing with a violent, beautiful urgency as he comes. 

He cries out, a low, muffled sound that vibrates against Taehyung's throat as his orgasm hits him, spraying from the head of his cock, lost to the lake.

Taehyung holds him tightly, continuing the desperate friction, the sight and sound of Jeongguk's release sends him to his own climax. With a low, guttural groan, Taehyung comes immediately after, flooding the cold water with his own hot release, his body shaking with the force of the orgasm.

They collapse against each other, panting heavily, clinging together in the still water. The moon shines down on them intimately as Taehyung's hands move, settling with a heavy, possessive weight, cupping Jeongguk’s ass.

Jeongguk lifts his head, his eyes half-closed. “I think my legs are shaking.”

Taehyung smiles. “Good. That’s what I like to hear, baby.”

Chapter Text

At the wooden table in the middle of the Den’s council hall, sits Reign, his face a mask of barely contained fury. Several grim-faced officers surround the table as Reign’s patience clearly wears thin. Jeongguk stands back yet again in the deepest shadow near the entrance, a silent observer.

"Goddamn it!" Reign snarls, slamming a fist on the wood. "Tell me again! Tell me how our crates of Blazestone Shards get ripped apart in transport?” 

One of the officers clears her throat. "Sir, the shipment was hit at dawn. Not by rivals. It was eight of our own. They just went ape-shit. Killed one of the officers, ripped the damn crates to shreds, and scattered the shards. They didn't even want the loot, just the slaughter."

Rikard speaks, his voice a gravelly rasp. "The cargo is a cost. The sheer savagery of the attack is a rot we need to stop, Reign. It's the same feral madness we've been seeing."

"Madness," Reign spits, contempt thick in his voice.

Another officer shoves a mangled wooden crate onto the table. It looks like it was chewed apart– the wood splintered, crisscrossed with deep, violent claw marks.

Jeongguk watches from the darkness, his jaw tight. The sheer, excessive violence of the marks matches the state of the rogue wolf Taehyung described. The drug is turning them into monsters.

Reign stares at the destruction, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "I gave the order! Find the users, find the source, keep this poison inside the Den walls! This chaos cannot compromise our standing. It makes us look fucking weak!”

"It’s too late, Father," Liron says, his tone clipped. "It's external now. We failed."

Reign’s head snaps up. "What the hell are you talking about, son?"

"The Coven is aware," Liron swallows hard. "One of these rogues breached a major vault and killed three vampires before getting put down. And that's not all. Yesterday, at the Broken Pick Trading Post, another one of these things attacked a Goblin convoy, killing their chief guard and destroying their cargo. The Goblins are assuming this is Den warfare, and the vampires are circling. We have active threats on two external fronts because of this drug!"

Reign explodes, grabbing pieces of the destroyed crate and throwing them across the floor. "You sick bastards! This was supposed to be quiet! The debt is already choking us, and you let these filthy beasts paint more targets on our backs. This is a shitshow!”

The officers scramble to defend themselves. "We're trying, Reign, but it's spreading like a wildfire! It spreads by word-of-mouth. There are no symptoms until they snap and shift. It's impossible to consistently track who's on it! We find one dealer, then three more pop up because the addicts won't stop chasing that high.”

Liron pulls Reign back before he can attack one of the officers. "Calm, Father. I know the threat is real but the fury doesn't stop the spread."

Reign paces, his breath heavy, before his rage solidifies into cold, brutal purpose. "New orders. This ends now." 

"First, I want a one-hundred-thousand credit bounty put on every dealer of this drug. And territory lock-down. Any wolf found moving known supplies will be hunted without question."

"Second, immediate termination. Any wolf reported with red eyes and uncontrollable rage– is to be killed on sight. No capture. No questions. We will not allow the taint to spread."

The officers quickly agree and begin to disperse, eager to escape the room full of Reign’s wrath. As Liron turns to leave, Jeongguk watches him closely.

A heavy-set officer, rushing past, makes a point of brushing against Liron. In that brief, rough contact, the officer discreetly slides a small, thick leather pouch into Liron’s hand. Liron’s fingers immediately close around it, and he pockets it in one seamless motion.

The pouch is slightly open and in the dim lamplight, Jeongguk catches a fleeting glimpse of the contents. Several small, glass vials filled with a ruby-red, shimmering liquid. His blood runs cold. That's Crimson.

Jeongguk slips silently out of the shadows and follows Liron down a narrow, unmarked side corridor toward the armory.

The armory is nearly dark, lit only by a weak lamp swinging at the far end. When Jeongguk catches up to Liron, his brother stops abruptly, turning to face him with an immediate sneer of contempt.

“The shadows suit you, brother,” Liron says, folding his arms. “Lost your way, or just looking to cause trouble where you don't belong?”

Jeongguk ignores the comment. He steps closer, his voice low. "I saw the exchange, Liron. That officer– he gave you the vials. The red ones. What the hell are you doing with Crimson?"

Liron laughs, a short, ugly sound. “You're getting delusional, Rapist’s son. Your eyes are playing tricks. That was a payment slip, idiot. Now get back to whatever miserable hole you crawl out of. The Den’s real business is handled by real wolves.”

"Don't bullshit me," Jeongguk insists. "It was suspicious. The way he sneaked it to you, the way you hid it. Are you dealing the poison Father just ordered exterminated?”

Liron's expression instantly hardens into pure menace. He shoves Jeongguk hard against the wall. "Don't accuse me, you piece of trash! You think you have the right to question me? I’m the heir! I’m the one putting in the work while you just skulk in the dark, reminding everyone of the shame our mother had to endure! You’re nothing but a stray mutt that Father pitied enough to keep around!"

“I’m nothing, but I’m not dealing poison that’s tearing our people apart!” Jeongguk shoves back, fury overriding fear. “What’s your game, Liron? Money? Power? Father would flay you if he knew you were touching that shit!”

Liron’s face contorts with blinding rage, and he moves with savage speed, his hand shooting out to grip Jeongguk's throat, slamming him back into the stone wall.

"You shut your fucking mouth," Liron hisses, the pressure on Jeongguk's windpipe cutting off his air. "You breathe a word of this– you even look at me wrong– and I will personally ensure Father ties you to a post and lets the rogues feast on your worthless carcass."

In that moment of absolute, murderous rage, Liron’s normally clear, predatory blue eyes flash to a violent, shimmering ruby-red. The color is liquid, intense and entirely unnatural, lasting for only a split second before they snap back to the familiar color of blue.

Jeongguk chokes, but the sight clears his head in a terrifying flash of clarity. Liron isn't dealing the drug– he's consuming it.

Gasping for air, Jeongguk rasps out the realization. "You’re not dealing it. You’re taking it! You’re on Crimson."

The statement is a physical blow in the quiet armory. Liron recoils slightly, his control shattering. His hand remains locked on Jeongguk's neck. "I will fucking kill you," he whispers, his voice shaking with violence and fear of exposure.

Before Liron can tighten his grip further, the air is split by a furious roar.

"What the hell is this commotion?!" Reign shouts. He storms into the armory, his face red with renewed rage.

Liron instantly drops his hand from Jeongguk’s throat and straightens, the picture of aggrieved innocence. "Father! Thank the Gods! He was following me, Father. Accusing me of disrupting our tasks and threatening to sabotage the new orders. He's being completely insubordinate and trying to hide the fact he skipped out on his duties tonight!"

Reign doesn't even look at Liron's face, or the dark patch Liron is hiding in his pocket. He only sees Jeongguk, leaning against the wall, breathing raggedly. The familiar hatred and contempt in the leader's eyes flare to life.

"You dare interrupt the chain of command, you worthless filth?" Reign snarls, dismissing Liron’s feigned distress instantly and focusing his entire rage on Jeongguk. He grabs Jeongguk’s arm with a strength that bruises, hauling him roughly away from the wall.

"Get your ass moving. We're going to the study. Let's see if we can beat some respect into you."

Reign drags Jeongguk, stumbling, back toward the main Den quarters, leaving Liron alone in the dimly lit armory with a devious smirk.

–

Reign’s grip is like an iron shackle, hauling Jeongguk into the study. Jeongguk stumbles as Reign shoves him toward the center of the room.

Marianne, his mother, sits in the armchair by the fireplace. Her expression one of cold discontent, as if Jeongguk’s mere presence was a stain on her life. She doesn't move, only watches.

Reign is a storm of uncontrolled rage. " You dare challenge your brother? You dare interfere with Liron's work? The whole Den is burning because of that drug Liron is trying to manage, and you are trying to distract him with childish squabbles!"

Jeongguk pushes himself up, tasting bile. "I wasn't–"

The denial is cut short by a brutal, open-handed strike across the side of his head. The force snaps Jeongguk's neck back, sending him reeling. A sharp spike of pain blooms behind his eye, and his vision swims.

"Shut up!" Reign roars, his voice bouncing off the dark walls. "I let you on this earth, and you want to be defiant? Maybe you need a reminder with the shock collar. Or maybe The Cage is where you belong, like the animal you are."

Marianne finally stirs, her voice tight. "Enough. I don't care about their squabbles. We have more pressing matters than his negligence of duty." She lifts her hand, revealing a photograph. Her eyes, filled with loathing, rake over Jeongguk. "We have the real reason for his insolence."

His mother tosses the photo onto the desk and Jeongguk’s heart plunges into his stomach. He snatches it, looking at the blurry, grainy image, clearly taken from a distance.

It shows him and a man, Taehyung, locked in a fierce, intimate kiss in the lake. But the angle is poor, with Jeongguk's body mostly blocking the face of the vampire, so it can't be seen that it's Taehyung. Though there's no mistaking that the other person is clearly a man.

"Where did you get this?" Jeongguk whispers, his hands shaking as he grips the photograph.

"An officer," Marianne says, the venom sharp and practiced. "Someone saw your disgusting display."

Reign lunges, grabbing Jeongguk's shoulder and shaking him violently. "A man! I don't care if you fuck every woman in the city, Jeongguk, but a man? You bring that degeneracy into my Den? Do you have any idea the ridicule, the shame you bring to this family?"

Marianne rises from her chair, her expression curdling into a deeper disgust. "I endured the shame of that animal– your true father– touching me, the burden of giving birth to you and living with the constant reminder. And for what? For you to embarrass us further? To flaunt this unnatural filth?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Teach the boy a lesson he clearly never learned, Reign. I'm done."

She sweeps out of the study, leaving Jeongguk alone with his father.

The door slams shut, and Reign turns, his eyes alight with a terrifying, absolute cruelty. He backhands Jeongguk again, then shoves him against the bookshelf, sending a spray of old texts scattering. Then, Reign hauls him up by his shirt, dragging him until Jeongguk's back slams into the desk edge. A low, ragged grunt escapes Jeongguk's lips.

"My poor wife!" Reign snarls, his voice thick with self-pity and misplaced blame. "She endured that animal, that rapist, and had to carry and birth your filth! We kept you! We allowed you to live! And this is how you repay that sacrifice? By bringing shame to the bloodline? You make me sick!"

Reign delivers a brutal kick to Jeongguk's side. Jeongguk folds over, coughing hard, blood spitting onto the polished floor.

Reign steps back and pulls out a matte-black handgun. He slams Jeongguk down onto his knees on the stone floor, gripping his hair and tilting his head back until Jeongguk is forced to look up into his cold eyes.

The gun barrel presses hard against Jeongguk’s temple.

"You think you're a man?" Reign spits. "You think you're tough? Is this how you look when you suck cock, huh? Head tilted back, waiting for your reward?"

With an evil smile forming on his face, he slowly moves the cold steel barrel down Jeongguk's face, dragging it over his cheekbone, past his jaw, until it rests against Jeongguk's trembling lips.

"I don't even want to think of that disgusting image," Reign whispers, his voice low. "But you're going to give me a show."

Jeongguk whimpers, shaking his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes from pain and sheer terror. "No. No, please, Father. Don't make me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Reign's face doesn't move. He abruptly pulls the gun away, and a deafening shot cracks through the silent room. Jeongguk flinches as the bullet slams into the wall, inches from his ear, sending plaster and dust flying.

The gun is instantly back, resting on Jeongguk's lips. "Suck it, or suck a bullet. I don't care which. You have to learn your lesson."

Jeongguk is trembling, utterly broken. He shakes his head, hot tears flowing down his cheeks. "No... no, p-please, sir, no, I don't want to… Please, D-Dad!" He hasn't called him 'Dad' since he was a small, hopeful child. The word is a desperate, pathetic surrender.

Reign laughs, a cruel sound. He grabs Jeongguk's jaw with his free hand, squeezing until Jeongguk's mouth is forced open in a choked cry. Reign shoves the cold, metallic barrel deep into his mouth.

Jeongguk gags, tears streaming down his face, struggling to breathe around the hard, unforgiving object. He claws at his father's hand but the hold is too strong. Reign shoves it in and out, a quick, brutal rhythm. "Is that it? Is this how easy you are?"

Reign pulls the gun out, spits on the floor, disgusted by the sight and the humiliation he has wrought. "Get up. Take this as a lesson. If I ever see you with a man, you die. Understood?"

He throws Jeongguk onto the floor one last time and stomps out, leaving the study door wide open.

Jeongguk collapses onto the floor, curled up, shaking uncontrollably. The terror still grips him, the feeling of the cold steel inside his mouth a physical violation worse than any punch. He feels humiliated, worthless, broken. Alone. Why? Why?

But as the terror slowly begins to recede, one image, one name, forces its way through the despair. Taehyung.

Taehyung, who held him in the water and kissed him. Taehyung, who didn't look at him like a disappointment. Taehyung, who made him feel good, feel desired, feel real.

Jeongguk cries harder, the tears now a torrent of pain and desperation, wishing Taehyung was here with him in this crushing, suffocating darkness.

–

The Coven conference chamber is an odd mix of vampires, a witch and a gargoyle. 

Hoseok has been motionless for several minutes. Namjoon, watching him, jumps visibly when Hoseok slowly opens his mouth. A dry cloud of fine, gray stone dust puffs out, followed by a faint, metallic clink as a tiny pebble drops onto the floor.

Namjoon stares, wide-eyed. “Did he just... exhale gravel? Is that normal? Does he need a cough drop? That cannot be healthy.”

Jimin, without looking up from reviewing a data report, replies with a deadpan tone. “That’s just Hoseok adjusting his internal mineral balance, Namjoon. Think of it as a heavy sigh, if heavy sighs were comprised of compressed earth. He’s fine.”

Hoseok’s only response is a slow, heavy blink.

Taehyung taps the table once. “Pleasantries concluded. Hoseok, your report from the Gloomstone Mine Network.”

Hoseok speaks, his voice a guttural rumble. “Mines deep. Hidden paths. Found source.” He places a small, velvet-lined crate on the table and slowly opens it.

Inside sits a single specimen of The Red Bloom. It's breathtakingly beautiful and unsettling. A dark red flower, but its petals are solid, angular and covered in fine crystal dust that shimmers dangerously under the chamber lights. It looks more like a bio-weapon than a plant.

Jin leans forward, intrigued. "The infamous Red Bloom. It is... striking."

“Strikingly dangerous,” Namjoon mutters, abandoning his notebook to peer at the specimen. “As we suspected. This thing is not organic in any traditional sense. It's basically a mineral. Which brings us to the problem of refinement.”

Namjoon looks up at the vampires. "This tricky plant resists normal fire. To turn it into Crimson, you need extreme heat to break the crystals. But if you use too much, you destroy the ingredients inside. It needs a special kind of fire blast. Standard furnaces won't cut it. We’d need a high-powered, precise thermal equipment."

Taehyung nods, his eyes narrowing. "Well, that sounds remarkably like the specifications for the Heat-Forge Cannons that were part of the Blackened Run shipment."

The room falls silent.

"Wait," Namjoon interjects, frowning. "Why are we talking about the Blackened Run? I thought it was intercepted by the government.”

Yoongi explains. “The Blackened Run was a Wolves smuggling operation– moving high-grade thermal weaponry– with our cooperation on the money laundering. The government only moved in after the weapons had vanished. But the lost weapons conveniently let us slip away without having the Feds up our asses.”

Taehyung leans back, his expression cold. “It seems like a blatantly obvious– but poor– attempt to distract us and make us think the failure was due to government interception.”

“But it wasn't. It was robbery in plain sight. If they could orchestrate a diversion that sophisticated, using the government as their shield, this is not a random dealer.”

Hoseok shifts again, his stone body rumbling. "Manipulation. Skill."

"Great," Jimin says sarcastically. "So now we're hunting someone with genius level biochemistry, who can rob us without leaving a trace, and has high-level military-grade thermal weaponry.”

Namjoon nervously adjusts his glasses. “Even with those cannons, the process is baffling. You need that heat just to break the crystals, but refining the psychoactive elements without destroying them requires a level of delicate, internal manipulation that defies basic physics. It's impossible. It’s almost as if the core elements are being convinced to stabilize.”

Jin takes a sip of his wine, his gaze fixed on the shimmering plant. “But their primary weakness is their dependence on that plant, so it suggests their base is close to a consistent source of it. That source, Namjoon confirmed, is unique to the Gloomstone Mine Network.”

Hoseok shakes his head, his voice flat. "Network clear. No laboratory found. No evidence of prolonged occupation."

Yoongi straightens up, bewildered. “But if The Red Bloom is only found there, where are they refining it? They cannot have just packed everything up so quickly and moved operation.”

Jimin scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Then perhaps... the mine network Hoseok searched isn't the only place The Red Bloom grows."

Namjoon rubs his temples, agitated. “And wait. The Heat-Forge Cannons require an immense, continuous energy source to operate at that intensity. We’re talking industrial-grade power. None of your teams reported finding any residual power signature, any hidden geothermal tap, or any kind of massive fuel depot, did they, Hoseok?”

Hoseok rumbles a short, definitive answer. "Nothing. Only stone."

Jimin looks at Taehyung, confusion etched on his face. “So the refinery, the cannons, the fuel source, and the enemy are all missing. They’ve managed to create a perfect, untraceable laboratory.”

Taehyung grips the table edge. “This means we're dealing with someone that can generate the power needed for this entire operation– the force, the heat, the manipulation– without needing a physical, traceable source. They’ve found a way to run the cannons on something... unseen.”

“We must stop looking for physical things– like mines, generators or wires– and start looking for an unseen source of energy that can power a whole operation.”

“If the source is hidden, and the power is invisible,” Jin says, his voice dangerously quiet, “And the elements are somehow being convinced to stabilize, then this source we're hunting is not something physical at all.”

“Gentlemen, it seems like we’ve been misled by an illusion.”