Crafting The Lust

✨19✨

His steps echoed in the dampened room with scattered colours, ruined and ripped paintings. Once a bright place felt like a dark cave in spite of the sunlight. Hyunjin's eyes twitched, his lips forming a smile of disbelief. How could he get betrayed by a mere painter?

Mind racing a marathon of thoughts, the more he thinks about it the more his anger grow. His gaze travelled across the room, that was a clear sign about the painter ran away, instinctively. And how could it possibly happen? He succeeded to ran away despite this heavy security?

"Funny," a deep chuckle of disbelief escapes out from his twitching lips. "Really funny," he shook his head suppressing a maniacing laughter.

The silence that echoed loudly throughout the court, limbs trembling and occasional sounds of teeth clashing from the fear rang like a nuisanced melody.

"We are in deep… deeply sorry, Your Majesty…" stammered one of the soldiers, his face pale, his hands trembling as he knelt before Hyunjin. The entire court felt the suffocating weight of the king's fury. Even the flickering torches seemed to dim in response to his darkened mood.

Hyunjin stood at the center, his gaze cold and unyielding as he looked down at the kneeling soldiers. They were all shaking, their eyes fixed on the ground, too afraid to meet his piercing stare. His usually composed demeanor was cracked, his anger leaking through in the form of a subtle, chilling smile. The court was filled with a silence so thick, it pressed on everyone's chest, each heartbeat adding to the tension.

"A mere painter…" he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else, though his voice echoed clearly in the silent hall. "A mere painter, under my very nose, managed to slip away despite the 'protection' I assigned him." He took a slow, deliberate step forward, the sound of his boots clicking against the marble floor. "Tell me, where were you when he disappeared?"

None of the soldiers dared to answer, each one hoping that another would take the fall. The fear in their eyes was evident; they knew that the king's wrath could be fatal.

"Did you all fall asleep?" Hyunjin's voice was a low, dangerous murmur, the kind that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. "Or did he simply charm his way past you?"

One of the soldiers, perhaps bolder than the others or simply too terrified to remain silent, lifted his head slightly. "W-we… We checked the corridors, the gates… He must have… there must have been a hidden route he used. We were all… we are truly sorry, Your Majesty. We… we will find him."

Hyunjin's lips curled into a mocking smile, his laughter low and cold. "Oh, you will find him?" he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. "And how do you plan to accomplish what you failed so miserably at in the first place?"

The soldier's head lowered once more, words failing him. He could feel the weight of the king’s icy gaze, and he knew his life hung in the balance.

Hyunjin stepped closer, his voice now a harsh whisper that seemed to pierce through the silence like a dagger. "Let me make this clear. If you do not bring him back to me—alive—there will be consequences. For each and every one of you."

The soldiers flinched, feeling the chill of his threat. They bowed lower, barely holding themselves from crumbling under the pressure.

"Leave. Do not return without him," Hyunjin ordered, turning his back on them, dismissing them with a flick of his hand.

As the soldiers scrambled to leave, Hyunjin remained, standing in the empty hall, his thoughts a chaotic storm. That painter had dared to flee, dared to betray the king. Felix had crossed a line, and there would be no forgiveness.

As the court came to a heavy silence, Hyunjin remained there alone with his wrath. His head tilted, as if he was consuming his anger, with a commitment to make the painter suffer till he beg for his death.

﹏

As if the warm glow of sunlight gently patting on his cheek to wake him up cast a warm glow throughout the forest, merely piercing the dense trees and shrubs. Felix who has been passed out since how long—he himself had no idea, fluttered his eyes open to catch the view of surroundings. Meeting with nothing but a disappointment, as he was still in the nowhere of the forest.

Was there no escape or he couldn't find it?

But Felix had the trust that there might be any escape, he couldn't just die here either from deprived of food or being someone's food.

His hands crawled clutching the lace of bag, he tried to got up just to get stumble back. A sharp pain waver throughout his nerves of feet to the brain, where he found out a thron had pricked in his delicate skin.

Felix gritted his teeth, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as he looked down at his foot, now throbbing with pain. A thorn, thin but unforgiving, was lodged in the tender skin just above his ankle. With a quick, shaky breath, he bent down, bracing himself against the rough bark of a tree as he carefully pulled it out. The small wound stung, a painful reminder of the desperation that had driven him to flee in such a hurry.

He took a sharp breath, steadying himself. Examining the surroundings, "there might be any escape," he breathed out, looking here and there. He was surrounded by trees and shurbs, his nerves wrecked whenever any of the shurbs move making him flinch.

Felix took a heavy breath, willing his legs to move forward despite the sharp ache radiating from his foot. His heart raced as he pushed through dense underbrush, his senses heightened by every crackling twig and rustling leaf. The forest's shadows seemed to close in around him, thick with an unsettling silence, save for the faint growl that prickled the back of his neck.

He froze. A low, guttural sound echoed from somewhere behind him, accompanied by the soft padding of something approaching. Felix's heart leaped as he realized the wild animal had locked onto his scent, prowling closer with each second. His gaze darted around, frantically searching for any form of cover, but the forest offered no safe haven.

The creature—a large, dark wolf—emerged from the shadows, its yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. Felix stumbled back, panic rising in his throat as he struggled to stay upright. The wolf's growl deepened, its gaze fixed, muscles coiled as it prepared to lunge.

Just as the wolf sprang forward, the clang of metal and shouts broke through the silence. Felix flinched, pressing himself against a tree as the soldiers, armed and fierce, burst through the underbrush. The wolf hesitated, snarling, before retreating reluctantly into the shadows, eyeing its prey one last time before disappearing.

"Found him!" one of the soldiers shouted, eyes narrowed as he took in Felix's disheveled, wounded state. There was no relief in their gazes—only a grim, predatory satisfaction.

Without a word, they seized him, gripping his arms tightly and dragging him up. Felix barely had time to gasp before they began to pull him back through the forest. He tried to fight them off, twisting and struggling, but the soldiers were relentless. His weakened body offered little resistance, and soon he found himself being dragged through the dirt, branches scraping his face and arms.

"Thought you could escape, did you?" one of them sneered, his eyes cold and merciless. He glanced at the others, a silent understanding passing between them. Without warning, he drew his fist back and struck Felix hard across the jaw, sending a searing pain through his face.

Another soldier joined in, his boot landing with a cruel thud against Felix's ribs. Felix cried out, his voice echoing through the trees, but the soldiers showed no mercy. They rained blows upon him, each one sharper and more brutal than the last. His vision blurred, and he tasted blood on his lips, his body wracked with pain as the soldiers continued their merciless assault.

By the time they finally stopped, Felix was barely conscious, his body a patchwork of bruises and cuts. His breathing was shallow, each breath a struggle. The soldiers hauled him up, his head lolling forward as he fought to remain aware of his surroundings.

"Let's go," one of them muttered, his tone void of sympathy. "The king's orders were clear. He wants him alive… but he didn't say in what condition."

With that, they dragged Felix back toward the palace, his battered body leaving a trail of blood and broken branches behind them.

A/N : next chapter in a few hours.