Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

thirty-four ; soobin

I lept toward Yeonjun. A yell of surprise caught in my throat so it came out a groan of distress.

“I’m disappointed in you, son.”

“What are you doing?” My question wavered with my sobs.

“I’m fixing your mistakes, like I always do.”

I stood slowly, making sure to position my body between my mom and Yeonjun.

“Please, Yeonjun is important to me.” I hardly moved a muscle. It felt like I stood at a precipice. One strong breeze would send me tumbling over the edge or back to safety. The direction of the wind relied solely on my mother’s heart.

“You care about him that much?” My mom asked.

“I do.” I held on to my mother’s considering expression like a lifeline.

Then mom’s sudden laughter deflated me.

“You’ve proven your lack of judgment to me, son. First with that shaman and now with this boy. A gumiho does not love. We are objects of desire. We are illusion and beauty that humans lust after. That is why they are easily manipulated.”

“You don’t understand.” Angry tears burned at my eyes.

“No, I understand too well. I was foolish like you once, and I’ve been punished for that lapse in judgment.”

The words stung. Did mom mean to imply I had been her punishment?

“I’m doing this for your own good.” My mom picked up a knife and turned toward Halmeoni. “This woman’s death will be on you. You need to learn that there are consequences to your actions. And that there can be no witnesses to them either.”

“Please.” I held on to a sliver of hope that my mother would love me enough to listen.

“No!” From behind me, Yeonjun jumped up and charged toward my mom. There was no time to stop him, no time to warn him.

My mom moved so quickly, it was a flash. She stood, aimed the knife, and let Yeonjun’s forward motion do the work for her.

The blade slid into his gut so smoothly that I thought perhaps it hadn’t happened. There was no jerk of his body, no cry of pain. He dropped with a dull thud. And the blood—so much blood—pooled around him, so thick it was black.