Dragon's Love (Jungkook ff)

♡ Chapter 62 ♡

Tieran walked through the long, narrow halls like a storm with no warning. His boots hit the floor hard, each step ringing loud through the silent hall. The air felt cold and still, as if even the walls were holding their breath.

"Chester! Chester!" he shouted, voice crashing against the silence, calling for his raven.

"Arghh!" he growled, dragging his fingers through his hair.

"Useless bastard," he muttered, louder this time, his anger boiling beneath his skin.

He pushed open the office door with a sharp bang. Darkness greeted him like an old enemy. Only a weak light spilled in from the tall window-thin and grey, like the sky had turned its back on the world. Shadows crawled across the room, wrapping everything in their arms.

Tieran moved quickly toward the massive painting on the wall. It showed a man standing tall, blade raised over the body of a fallen dragon. The colors were deep and heavy, and the eyes of the beast seemed to stare back at him. With a sudden yell, he ripped it off the wall and threw it down. The frame broke, glass shattering into pieces that danced across the floor like angry stars.

Behind the painting, a secret door waited-quiet and still. A passage to all the secret rooms and alleys in the mansion.

Tieran froze.

The key was always in the lock. It had always been there. No one knew about this passage but him. No one but...

Panic flashed in his eyes.

He turned toward the heavy desk in the center of the room and began throwing things aside, drawers flying open, papers scattering like frightened birds.

A sound stopped him. A low, dangerous growl.

He lifted his head slowly. The darkness felt thicker now, heavier, like it was pressing against his skin. He could barely see, barely breathe.

"Looking for this?"

The voice was low, deep, rough like gravel, but filled with quiet fire.

Suddenly, flames sparked in the fireplace, and the chandelier above flared to life. Warm light washed over the room-but it did not feel warm. It felt like the calm before a deadly storm.

And there he sat.

Jeon Jungkook.

His body rested in the grand leather chair like a king on his throne, one leg crossed over the other. His fingers twirled a golden key, slowly, carelessly. His lips held a crooked smirk, but his eyes-they burned red like embers, sharp and endless.

There was blood on his shirt. Black soaked with crimson. His hands were stained too, streaked and splattered. It wasn't hard to guess how he got here. It looked like he tore through every man in his path-with his bare hands.

Tieran didn't speak. He couldn't. His throat had dried, and his heart was thudding too loud to let him think.

Jungkook tilted his head, amused. He saw it-the fear. He could taste it in the air.

"My girl looked beautiful in that dress, didn't she?" he asked softly, like a secret wrapped in poison. Then he tossed the key onto the floor near Tieran's feet. It landed with a soft cling that echoed like a bell at a funeral.

"You were so desperate to see her like that. All dressed up, all yours. I don't usually do favors-but I figured everyone should get one last wish before they die."

The smirk vanished. Jungkook's gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening as fury flickered behind his eyes.

"You are the most pathetic human I've ever met," he said, voice like ice. "You act like you understand everything, but you know nothing."