Hongjoong sat alone in his chambers, legs stretched out, one arm draped across his knee, a half-emptied bottle resting in his other hand. The room was dim, lit only by scattered candles that flickered like they were too tired to stay alive.
His father had just informed him that a "princess" from Silla was on her way.
A peace gift.
A political bride.
A shiny sacrifice wrapped in silk.
Hongjoong couldn't care less.
As long as she didn't cross into the forbidden border or run her mouth about demons, she could live out her human existence however she wanted. He only eliminated intruders when they came looking for glory or trouble. And Silla loved both.
He took another drink. The burn didn't calm him. Nothing ever did.
He had bigger things bothering him.
The curse tightening around him like invisible rope.
No clue how to break it.
And the only person who knew the truth had died in his arms years ago.
People forgot his name.
Not poetically. Literally.
Everyone. Soldiers, servants, ministers… even his father.
He wasn't "Hongjoong" anymore. He was just Captain. Just a title. Just a shadow.
Sometimes he wondered if he was turning into a ghost long before death.
He was still staring at the bottle when voices whispered at his door.
"Captain?"
He blinked. "Who is it?"
"It's us," two voices answered.
Steps. Then a push.
Jongho slipped in first, hair messy from training. San followed, carrying that grin that always meant trouble.
"Why are you drinking without us, your Highness?" San laughed.
Hongjoong tried to look up at them, but the moment their scents hit him, his vision blurred at the edges. His pupils expanded, swallowing the gold in his eyes until darkness crept in.
Jongho stilled. San's grin vanished.
"…Your eyes," Jongho murmured. "They're darker. That only happens when—"
"I know," Hongjoong muttered, rubbing his temple. His voice sounded too low, too strained.
His rut.
Early.
Again.
"What's triggering it?" San asked, walking closer. "It's not time yet."
He didn't answer. Couldn't. He didn't know.
Stress?
Loneliness?
The curse messing with his body again?
Or—something else entirely.
Jongho exchanged a glance with San. "Should we find an Omega for you? We can bring one from the village. Or… if you prefer someone from Silla, we can drag one over the border."
"No." Hongjoong's voice was firm, but it trembled at the edges. "Let it pass. I'm only thinking too much."
"Are you sure?" San asked softly.
Hongjoong lifted the bottle with a faint smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Sit. Drink with me. Before I start throwing things."
San snorted. Jongho sighed. And they sank down beside him.
Hongjoong gulped another mouthful of liquor, but the heat coiling in his stomach didn't fade.
Something was coming.
He could feel it humming beneath his skin.
San plopped down beside Hongjoong, stealing the bottle from his hand. "You know… the princess might actually be your bride."
Hongjoong scoffed so hard he nearly choked. "Do you two even know your king? Do you know my father at all? That man—" he pointed a shaky finger toward the palace roof "—is worse than any woman-chaser alive. If he isn't in the courtesan house, he probably already has one to accompany him."
Jongho nodded sagely. "Facts."
"So," Hongjoong continued, running a hand through his hair, "I'm sure this princess is just another wife for him. He was way too excited. Has to be someone young and beautiful."
Jongho raised a brow. "But what if you're the one who's supposed to marry her, not your father?"
Hongjoong laughed. Actually laughed. "Me? Marry a Silla princess? Everybody fears me. Across kingdoms, across villages, across oceans. People jump into rivers when they hear my title. You think some delicate princess will come smiling at me? She'll faint before I greet her."
San smirked. "Alright, Captain. Keep talking. We'll see."
"Yeah," Jongho added, grinning. "Let's see who's fainting first."
"Out," Hongjoong grumbled, snatching back the bottle.
San patted his shoulder. "Yes, yes, our terrifying Captain. We'll leave you to suffer alone."
Jongho dragged San out before Hongjoong could throw something at them.
The door slammed shut.
Silence settled in, and the rut heat climbed up his spine like wildfire. He stood, swaying just a little, and decided to walk. Clear his mind. Or at least pretend he could.
The forest outside the palace walls was dark, humming with danger. Strange shadows moved between trees, some glowing, some hissing, some walking on too many legs. Geumhwa was a kingdom of demons, after all. Magical beasts roamed freely, and the owners of those beasts were terrible at locking their cages.
Perfect distraction.
Hongjoong unsheathed his dagger. "Alright. Time to hunt."
He moved like a shadow, following the sound of a snarling creature up ahead. A horned beast burst through the undergrowth, and Hongjoong chased it, letting the thrill override the heat in his body.
But then—
He froze.
A scent hit him mid-stride.
Lavender.
Soft. Clean. Pulling him in like invisible fingers around his collar.
His knees nearly buckled.
"What… is that…" he whispered, voice shaking in a way no soldier had ever heard from him.
His instincts snapped awake.
He wanted it.
Needed it.
Hungered for it.
The beast he was chasing escaped into the woods, but Hongjoong didn't care. His body turned automatically, head tilted like a predator catching a whisper of prey.
That scent.
That Omega scent.
It wrapped around his throat, sweet and dangerous.
He stepped forward. Then again. And again.
His eyes were already dark from his rut, but now they were pitch-black, devouring the forest around him as his instincts drowned out every rational thought.
He followed the scent deeper.
Unaware.
Unprepared.
Walking straight toward the very Omega he had sworn he would never want.
Walking straight toward Seonghwa.
Hongjoong didn't walk. No. That was far too human for the state he'd fallen into.
He stalked.
His movements were sharp, animalistic, like his bones had remembered a shape older than the kingdom itself. The alpha instinct in his mind wasn't whispering anymore. It was ordering.
Go.
Claim.
Now.
His breath came out uneven, the rut heat swallowing reason whole. Every tree he passed shivered under the pressure of his energy. Shadows held on to him like loyal soldiers, forming a trail of swirling black mist behind him. A warning. A promise. A threat.
He wasn't thinking.
And he wasn't planning to.
He only wanted the Omega whose scent had crawled under his skin like wildfire tangled with silk.
The forest broke open into a clearing, and his eyes locked onto the sight in front of him.
A carriage.
Elegant. Soft lantern lights.
And stepping out from it—
Seonghwa.
Hair falling like ink down his shoulders. Silk robes catching the night breeze. The kind of beauty that made even the moon feel insecure.
Hongjoong didn't even notice Seonghwa was a man. His rut instincts didn't care about gender. They only cared about scent, about fit, about the Omega who made his mind snap in half.
He moved.
Not walked.
Pushed forward with a demonic force that cracked the earth beneath his feet.
Dark clouds was behind him, swirling like a storm had chosen him as its home. The guards around the carriage froze. They'd never seen an Alpha—no, a Demon—approaching like that.
Seonghwa turned, startled by the sudden shift in the air. His breath snagged when he saw the stranger's eyes, entirely black, drowning in instinct.
Then Hongjoong was on him.
One hand wrapped around Seonghwa's throat—not enough to harm, but enough to command his breath.
A slow, deliberate choke.
A claim.
Seonghwa gasped, the lavender of his pheromones blooming uncontrollably, spreading into the air like wild magic. His body reacted before his mind did. Heat rushed through him, sharp and humiliating.
He wasn't supposed to enter heat for two days.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't right.
This wasn't—
Hongjoong leaned closer, scenting him like he owned him.
Seonghwa tried to step back, but the pheromones hit harder, grounding him, melting his knees, weakening his magic control. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the pull.
Then—
"Your Highness!"
Commander Song Mingi burst around the carriage, weapons already forming with raw magic.
One look at Seonghwa in that stranger's grip and Mingi launched forward, slamming into Hongjoong with a force that shook the ground.
He tore Seonghwa free, pushing him behind him.
"Back away from His Highness!" Mingi screamed. "Who are you?"
Hongjoong stumbled, then straightened, lips curling into a dark smirk.
"She's mine," he growled, voice twisted by instinct. "You don't get to touch her."
Mingi's eye twitched. "She—? That's a he—"
But Hongjoong wasn't listening. He lunged.
And the battle erupted.
Mingi unleashed his full arsenal—blades of light, chains of force, whirling weapons appearing and disappearing like flashes of lightning. He fought with the speed and discipline expected from Silla's youngest commander.
But Hongjoong was not human.
Not normal.
Not manageable.
His power cracked the ground. His strikes were vicious. His instincts were rabid.
Mingi held his ground for as long as he could, but each clash pushed him back farther.
Seonghwa staggered, breathing hard, trying to stay upright. Hongjoong's pheromones were strangling the air, pushing him toward a heat that wasn't due.
He pressed a hand to his chest, gasping. "Commander Song… stop!"
Mingi turned around sharply. "Your Highness, stay back—"
Seonghwa shook his head, stumbling forward. "It's not… a natural rut." His vision blurred. "He's… drowning in it."
And because Seonghwa was a mage—
Because his magic interacted with scent and emotion—
He pushed his hands out and let energy ripple from him.
Lavender rushed forward.
Soft. Warm. Controlled.
Hongjoong froze mid-attack.
His pupils shrank.
His breathing slowed.
His shoulders loosened, tremors running through him like he was breaking out of a nightmare.
Seonghwa stepped closer, trembling but steady enough.
And Hongjoong… calmed.
Just enough.
Just barely.
That's when San and Jongho sprinted into the clearing like two men who were absolutely not paid enough for this.
"Oh gods—Captain!" San grabbed one arm.
"Forgive us, Your Highness!" Jongho bowed quickly to Seonghwa, pulling Hongjoong back.
"We'll take him," San promised, dragging Hongjoong away.
Hongjoong struggled weakly, eyes still fixed on Seonghwa. "She's mine… she's mine…"
"He—he's a man!" Jongho hissed in his ear.
But Hongjoong wasn't hearing a thing.
And Seonghwa, cheeks flushed and legs unsteady, watched them disappear into the trees.
Something was wrong.
His heat wasn't going away.