Moonlight Heirs 🌗🐺 | TAEKOOK |

20.) Unseen Flames Within

The clang of steel echoed through the clearing, a rhythmic beat to Taehyung's relentless thoughts. He stood alone in the clan's training grounds, swinging his sword with purpose. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he let his muscles work, hoping the physical strain would ease the tangle of emotions within. But each swing seemed only to pull his mind back, back to the beginning—back to the very first time he saw Jungkook.

He had been just a boy, standing by his parents' graves, lost and hollow-eyed. Taehyung remembered himself, watching, but never speaking a word. He was supposed to be there to pay his respects to Jungkook's family—old friends of the Kim clan—but his eyes couldn't leave the young boy, dressed in black, looking so small and fragile against the towering stones. This human's eyes, wide and innocent, were a mirror of his mother's: deep, doe-like eyes, they are familiar.

Those eyes stirred something in Taehyung he couldn't name, something that felt both foreign and haunting. A strange bond lingered in the air that day. He had noticed a faint scar on the boy's wrist, identical to his own—. And though Taehyung understood what it meant, he had shoved the thought aside, unwilling to confront the truth that the boy would be part of his life in ways neither of them could escape.

And then, months later, Jungkook arrived at the clan.

From the moment Taehyung heard the whispers of Jungkook's arrival, his heart had grown restless, but he'd buried it deep, keeping his face cold and his demeanor distant. He was the next leader of the clan, carrying the weight of the curse and the protection of his people on his shoulders.
There was no room in his life for warmth, for distraction. He was a fortress; he couldn't afford to be anything less.

Yet, the day Jungkook arrived, Taehyung found himself practicing in the yard, same as today, pretending not to notice, watching the young man from the corner of his eye.

Taehyung would never admit it, but Jungkook's presence unsettled him. It was more than curiosity; it was a strange pull that he couldn't shake, no matter how hard he tried. He'd forced himself to be impassive, to act as if the boy was no different from anyone else.

But that night, at dinner, Jungkook had asked about the scar on his wrist. For a brief moment, Taehyung's mask had slipped. He felt a flicker of surprise—but more than that, a quiet surge of fear. He somewhat knew what that scar symbolized for both of them, and he wasn't ready to face the truth it carried. Still, he had managed to keep his composure, forcing his face to remain unreadable. Taehyung couldn't let anyone see the chaos within.

Then, later that night, Jungkook had sought him out. He'd come to Taehyung with an open expression, innocent yet determined, asking questions Taehyung couldn't answer—questions that made him feel a vulnerability he couldn't explain.

Being near Jungkook was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a place both terrifying and strangely comforting. And he hated it, hated that this boy could bring out such a weakness in him.

But the moment that lingered most was when they had first shared the library together, just the two of them. Taehyung had felt the silence like a weight, and he'd looked at Jungkook with a guarded expression, telling himself he didn't care what the boy thought of him. But the truth was, he did care, and that alone terrified him. He'd noticed Jungkook's quiet curiosity, how his gaze lingered on the ancient scrolls and books, and he found himself wanting to protect that curiosity.

He gritted his teeth, gripping his sword tighter. Each strike against the air grew heavier, more forceful.
This is pointless, he thought, swinging again with frustration.

How had he come to this point? Why did he care what this human thought, or felt? Yet, every time he looked at Jungkook, he was reminded of his mother—of her gentleness, her strength, her humanity. She had been human too, an outsider in this world of wolves and curses, yet she'd managed to find a place in his father's heart and had softened Taehyung's own childhood with her kindness.

He remembered a day, long ago, standing in the same practice grounds, holding a small sword as she watched from the sidelines, clapping and smiling with pride as he managed his first swing. She'd come to him afterward, ruffling his blonde hair and calling him her "brave little warrior," and he'd felt his heart soar. His mother had believed in him so fiercely, even when the rest of the clan doubted him because he's a son of a human.

The memory of her warmth brought a pang to his heart. She'd always known how to melt the cold within him, to make him feel loved in a way that his clan's traditions never could. And now, here was Jungkook, with those same eyes, stirring up feelings he thought he had buried long ago.

Taehyung paused, lowering his sword, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of the session—and the weight of his thoughts. He wasn't sure how long he'd stood there, lost in his memories and emotions, until he felt the familiar ache in his wrist. Instinctively, he rubbed the scar, the one identical to Jungkook's. He'd never truly admitted it to himself, but in his heart, he knew—this boy, this human with his gentle spirit and quiet courage, was bound to him, whether he liked it or not.

The thought made him clench his fist. How could he put Jungkook at risk? This world was no place for someone like him. He wanted to shield Jungkook from the darkness, to keep him safe and away from the fate tied to Taehyung's own. But even as he thought that, he knew—Jungkook was already in too deep, and there was no going back.

With a heavy sigh, Taehyung closed his eyes, steadying himself. He knew what he had to do: he would fight to protect Jungkook, even if it meant keeping his distance, even if it meant forcing himself to ignore the strange bond that seemed to grow stronger each day.

Yet, no matter how much he tried, Taehyung knew he could never erase the image of Jungkook standing in that sunlight, or the quiet way his heart quickened whenever those familiar, haunting eyes met his.

🐺🌓To be continued...