His Baby Daddy [ Taekook ]

Chapter 14

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The Crystal Citadel was a breathtaking maze of ancient stone laced with modern luxury—steel-and-glass corridors veined through gothic towers, where vampire guards in tailored black suits prowled like silent shadows. Every hallway sparkled under enchanted chandeliers. Every doorway whispered secrets. But nowhere—nowhere—felt like home.

The Palace was nothing like Jungkook imagined.

Despite its fairytale silhouette—spires glinting like sword tips, windows cut from prismed stone—there was no warmth in its grandeur. The hallways shimmered with enchantments, and yet the air felt sterile, as if the building itself held its breath.

Jungkook hadn’t left the east wing since arriving two days ago.

The Queen had kept her promise: private quarters, guarded entrances, and no contact from Taehyung. A blood pact had been signed by the Royal Council: Prince Taehyung would not approach until Jungkook allowed it.

Queen Mishil had ensured their rooms remained in separate wings. The eastern tower was now Jungkook’s domain—he, the twins, Ami, and occasionally Seokjin. A suite was prepared with sunlight-filtered windows, moonward balconies, and blackout drapes enchanted to keep vampiric energy from bleeding through.

And yet, he felt him.

Somewhere in the bones of the castle, Taehyung's presence stirred—like an echo of a dream. Jungkook swore the walls themselves hummed with his scent when the wind changed. Sweet spice, warm musk, shattered longing.

It made sleep impossible.

Jungkook could feel it—every step echoing with unseen history. His presence stirred something in the palace, as if it, too, anticipated reunion.

But reunion was not his plan.

Not yet.

He wasn’t here for Taehyung. Not really.

He was here for the baby.

And for Lixue—who was finally, slowly, waking up.

...

That morning, Jungkook stood at the edge of the tower balcony, draped in a shawl against the early frost. Below, crystal gardens shimmered with dew and moonflower pollen. The baby fluttered beneath his ribs, restless as always at dawn.

Then came the sound.

Not quite a voice—more a tug.

A brush of breath across the soul.

You smell sad.

Jungkook’s heart skipped. His knees buckled slightly. He gripped the railing, pulse stuttering.