The Mercenary: A Sequel to Hwarang: The Saga of the Sooks Book #2

Chapter 44: Transformation

He stood, frozen, staring down at Sook Myeong. Bent over in grief. He'd seen her despair sliding down her face before. But never this perfect storm of sorrow and longing.

Could these tears be for him?

For the loss of his love?

"I love you, Sook Myeongie."

She recalled his words. So strongly that she would have sworn that they'd just been borne on the fresh zephyr stirring her long, midnight tresses in the garden of her childhood. And of her first love. Her first authentic love.

Not Seon Woo. But Jong Su.

The only man who had ever carried a genuine passion for her.

"I love you, Sook Myeongie."

His tender words came to her again. This time, a little louder. Firmer. Embodied by that beloved voice. Whose strains were apparently even more strongly embedded in her memory than she would have guessed.

"I love you, Sook Myeongie, and nothing you will ever do could drive me away from you."

This time, the words vibrated the air around her with such an intensity that she looked up. And froze, stunned, as she gazed into the eyes which she loved the most in all the world. Jong Su's warm, cinnamon eyes. Eyes that wrapped her in instant comfort.

She gaped up at him. "I thought you had gone," she murmured dumbly.

Then she flew off her bench. Only to stop a scant few inches from him. Suddenly, self-conscious.

"I heard you needed a shooting partner." He gestured towards her bow, which was hanging from his right shoulder now. "I thought, perhaps, you'd like to practice on me. I will stand right here. Making it easy for you." A slow smile spread across his face.

"You're hoping I'll shoot you?" she queried in mock surprise. As she recalled their very first encounter here. In her garden. Which had now become his too.

"Mmm. I'd like to see you try. But not succeed, of course," he added with a rueful wince. "I'm still recovering from my first wound, you know." He reached up to rub his shoulder.

She jumped forward then and grabbed for his hand before it could damage his wound. "Don't! Don't touch it! Let it heal!"

He gazed down at her with such an aching tenderness in his eyes that she nearly burst into tears again. "Dare I hope that these tears are for me?" he whispered as he lifted the hand of his injured arm to caress her cheek, removing a bead of moisture.

"What tears?" she echoed.

He quirked his eyebrows. "Sook Myeongie, how can you weep yet be so unaware of it? Your heart is clearly leaking its love for me, yet you still will not acknowledge it."

She took a deep breath. "That's not true."

"It's not true that your heart adores me?" he frowned.

She ignored him. "You cannot leave! I won't have you reinjuring yourself on your way home!"

His eyebrows flew north. "On my way home?" he asked, confused.

She bobbed her head. "You must stay, at least, until you're fully recovered."

"And then I'm free to head home?" he breathed.

He saw distress sail across her face.

"Without you?" he continued.

She dropped her gaze.

"I need your words," he whispered.

"You cannot die. Not on my watch," she murmured.