Silver Wings {Jungkook x Reader}

TWENTY-FIVE

Jungkook's POV

I can only gape in shock at the scene unfolding before me, my utter disbelief cancelling out and briefly numbing the dull ache that's spreading through my muscles and the scratches that burn against my skin.

After years and years of ruthless training and clawing my way to the top of the pyramid that every demon in this room has succumbed to, I have been dethroned by a newcomer within the span of five minutes. Granted, he appears much older than I and bears the evident traits of a warrior who has taken part in various blood battles, the strategies identical to those drilled into the brains of the troops right before they're deployed into battle. He's the only demon, his packed expanse of muscle making up for his lack of speed, that possesses the ability to overpower the son of Satan himself in such a short amount of time.

Now, the same being is facing off against (Y/N).

My (Y/N).

A low growl of frustration hums in my throat as (Y/N) withstands the warrior's frigid glare without wavering, her arms still outstretched to shield my battered body despite the older man's furious urges for her to step away. Her selfless act is enough to drive a sword through my heart, especially when an array of horrifying scenarios play through my mind on repeat as I try to figure out how this could possibly affect my opponent.

How did she find me? Why is she here? Why isn't she moving, especially when he could kill her for not complying? My nervous stare bores into her back as I attempt a vain telepathic communication. Just leave! Get out of here! Please!

If anything happened to her, I would never find the strength to forgive myself.

"Move or I'll make you move."

My head snaps around to glare at him when his threat snatches my attention. The crowd begins to hoot and taunt the warrior when (Y/N) merely squares her shoulders and refuses to move, drawing a snarl from his lips.

"Fine."

I hastily shove myself into a sitting position, ignoring the throbbing agony vibrating throughout my skull when I witness his filthy hand snaking around her wrist. His actions draw a rough-sounding "don't touch her" from my throat, my words punctuated with a cough that clenches the pain-wracked muscles in my torso. The man simply snorts in reply.

"Oh, so she's important to you?" He muses, his lust-darkened gaze tracing her body almost hungrily. At this moment, I want nothing more than to strangle him with my bare hands. "Then I'll just have to take her as a trophy. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her."

Oh, bitch, you did not.

The mere thought of another man's hands on her body is enough to completely infuriate me despite my fear of physical contact with her; but the sight of his perverted hands making contact with her is enough to cause me to make a mental note to take my trusted knife to the grindstone later and then pay him a visit. He just made a huge mistake.

Before I can drag myself into a weak standing position, (Y/N) wrenches her hand free from his grip and whirls on him. "I'm not a fucking trophy!" A strangled shout of pure fury rips up the air, the echo bouncing around the empty walls of the room that has fallen into a collective silence of sheer surprise. Another string of words pursues the first, each word punctuated with a small step towards the shocked victor. "You. Will. Not. Hurt. Jungkook."

I feel several pairs of eyes flickering to me, but I can't seem to tear my gaze from the sight of this new side of (Y/N). Long gone is the trembling girl I had encountered cowering beneath the blankets on my bed, the old model replaced with a girl filled with solid resolve and an unflinching stature that makes her appear to have been carved from stone itself.