Demon and the Mage (Jeongcheol)

Seungcheol

I didn't call in the favour.

All it took was one look at the raw terror on Jeonghan's face, and the words died on my tongue.

Call me an idiot. Call me a fool. I'd certainly cursed myself with insults far worse than that in the hours since, but I couldn't bring myself to demand the truth.

Not when whatever he was hiding was so bad it killed all the light in his eyes.

My brothers would no doubt have my hide for behaving so recklessly. But hey, we were demons. It wouldn't be right if we didn't lean into recklessness sometimes.

That was my excuse, and I was sticking to it.

The conversation between Jeonghan and I was kept to a minimum as we swiftly packed up our meagre campsite and got back on the road. Jeonghan seemed lost in thought, his attention many miles away, while I was lost in watching him from the corner of my eye.

What had caused him so much pain? I'd been racking my brain for medical conditions that could have him writhing in agony one minute and feeling fine the next, but I was coming up blank. I'd never seen a human nearly black out from pain caused by trapped wind.

His anxiety claim didn't ring true either. Unfortunately, I'd seen my brother's mate, Seungkwan, go through anxiety attacks several times. After the first one, Joshua and I had hit the books, well...Google...researching everything from recognising triggers to the best techniques to help someone with an anxiety attack. And once Soonyoung returned from Hell and witnessed one, he demanded we tell him everything we knew.

None of us wanted our brother's mate to suffer. It killed us to see his pain and how that affected Vernon. It wasn't often that I was with Seungkwan without Vernon there, but if the worst happened, I wanted to be able to help him through it.

I mulled over what happened with Jeonghan as I overtook a slow lorry. I knew that not everyone experienced anxiety attacks the same way. Chest pain, sweating, intense fear, increased breathing...sure, all were symptoms of an anxiety attack.

It was more what was...missing that had me doubting his claim. There'd been no sign of a trigger. No signs of an oncoming attack. It had hit out of the blue with no warning. And okay, that could happen with anxiety, but it wouldn't have you rolling on the ground in agony without even a hitch of a breath first.

And not only that, but there was the speed at which he'd recovered. Seungkwan always took several minutes to work through the attack and come back around. Even then, he still felt some of the physical symptoms. He described it to me once as recovering from a bad hangover—your body knew the worst was over, but you still felt weak, shaky, and exhausted.

The fact that Jeonghan had been back to normal in under two minutes was another tick against that theory.

I couldn't erase the memory of him writhing in agony. The way his mouth had fallen open in a scream. How his fingers had scrabbled at his chest like he was clawing at an invisible attacker.

I hadn't felt that helpless in a long time. Not since...not since Doyoon.

And just like with Doyoon, I hadn't been able to help him. I couldn't compel the pain away, and I had no idea why.

The image of Jeonghan suffering was replaced with the memory of another. This time, it was of Joshua. The way he'd cradled Seokmin's lifeless body. How he'd screamed and gone to pieces.

It was a reminder of what came with finding love—the risk of losing it. And while I believed it was worth it, seeing Jeonghan in pain and being helpless to stop it had made me pause.

If I was this cut up seeing Jeonghan, a guy I barely knew, suffering, what would I be like if it was my mate in that situation?

Maybe it was a good thing fate was keeping me waiting. I'd been so caught up in all the good things about having a mate that I'd forgotten about the risks. Being with a demon meant living with a perpetual target on your back.