"He left me bleeding? No, sweetheart-
I handed him the knife and told him to walk."
(Spoiler: he did.)
---
"Oh my goddess, Taehyung! Do something-I'm about to lose it!"
"Relax, sweetheart. Is it that time of the month again?"
"Shut up, you overgrown...
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☆*🥀*☆
---
The Citadel’s inner halls pulsed with too many footfalls and too little breath.
Jungkook walked flanked by Ami and two crystal-warded guards. His hair was unbound. The opal choker had cracked fully overnight and now hung from his throat like a broken shackle.
His steps echoed louder than they should have.
They passed under the high arches of the Moon-Watch Hall, where council banners had been replaced by blank, shimmering wards—each one etched with the royal crest and the child’s sigil: an unblinking silver eye surrounded by thorns.
Inside the chamber, Queen Mishil waited.
She didn’t rise.
But she looked tired in a way Jungkook had never seen before. Not from age—but from carrying the weight of something too vast for bone and blood.
“I received your message,” she said without greeting.
Mishil stood. Her fan was closed, resting at her side. “Hansol’s priests have begun to circle the east line. Seokjin suspects he’s invoked a binding—one strong enough to contain more than a soul.”
Jungkook's throat tightened. “The altar.”
Mishil nodded. “He’s not after the throne anymore. He’s after divergence. A shattering of every tether between wolf, god, and mage. The child born of that chaos would be..."
“Unwritten,” Jungkook finished. “Born of pain, molded by no bloodline.”
“Or all of them,” Mishil whispered.
Silence stretched between them. Then Jungkook stepped forward.
“I want to invoke the Mirror Rite.”
Mishil blinked. “That rite hasn’t been used in five generations.”
“It doesn’t matter. I need to know if what I’m carrying can resist what’s coming.”
She studied him a long moment. “You’re not afraid of the truth?”
“I’m more afraid of what happens if we don’t ask.”
---
The Mirror Rite had no altar. Only reflection.
Beneath the moonwell, Seokjin drew the circle himself—fine salt, black sand, threads of silver spun into arcane loops.
Jungkook stood barefoot inside it, belly exposed, the opal choker now gone. He’d placed it on the stone beside him without regret.
When the water stilled, he reached both hands toward it.
![His Baby Daddy [ Taekook ]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/236584438-64-k322372.jpg)