𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 | (𝐆)𝐈-𝐃𝐋𝐄

𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

The night was thick with mist, and the moon hung low, a pale witness to secrets best left unspoken.

Yuqi had always loved the stillness of the woods just before dawn. It was the only time the world seemed quiet enough to breathe. But tonight, something was wrong. Her heightened senses twitched—movement, scent, energy.

And then, she saw her.

A woman cloaked in shadow, pale as frost, eyes glinting like glass under starlight. Vampire.

Yuqi bared her teeth, her stance sharp. “You’re on the wrong side of the border.”

The woman didn’t flinch. In fact, she tilted her head, amused. “I could say the same for you.”

“Don’t play games.”

“Oh, I never do.” A slight pause. “I’m Soyeon.”

Yuqi tensed. That name. The vampire heir. The clan leader’s daughter. Dangerous. Untouchable. Rumored to have killed five werewolves with a single word.

Still, her voice didn’t match the stories. It was low, melodic—measured, like she was used to being misunderstood.

“I don’t want a fight,” Soyeon added, eyes softening. “I just needed quiet.”

Yuqi should have turned around. Should have reported her. Should have attacked, even.

Instead, she said, “Same.”

They stood in silence for a few beats longer. Neither moved. Neither trusted. But neither left.

They kept meeting.

At first, it was accidental. Or so they told themselves.

A run through the trees. A whisper behind a rock. A breath in the wrong direction.

But then, the meetings became deliberate.

They talked—quietly, cautiously. About clan politics, about family pressures, about loneliness. Soyeon’s laugh surprised Yuqi the first time she heard it. It was short, almost embarrassed. Like laughter wasn’t something she used often.

Yuqi found herself wanting to hear it again.

“You’re not what I expected,” Yuqi admitted once, as they sat on opposite sides of the river that marked the boundary between their territories.

Soyeon smirked. “I get that a lot.”

“No, I mean—” Yuqi hesitated. “You’re not cruel. Or empty.”

Soyeon looked down at the water. “And you’re not a mindless beast.” Her voice was quiet. “So what now?”

Yuqi didn’t have an answer. She just looked at her, and the moonlight did something strange to her heart.

The first time they touched, it was by accident. Soyeon stumbled over a tree root, and Yuqi caught her. Just a hand to a shoulder. Skin to skin. Cold and warm.

Their eyes met. And neither pulled away.

They kissed weeks later. In the hollow of a cave, hidden from the world, just after Yuqi had saved Soyeon from a rogue hunter.

It was soft. Careful. Like they were afraid of breaking something sacred.

But after that… everything changed.

They were no longer just enemies learning to coexist. They were something else. Something reckless. Something tender. Something forbidden.

It didn’t last in secret for long.

Soyeon’s clan elders found out first. Then Yuqi’s Alpha. Meetings were held in the dead of night. Words like betrayal and bloodline were hissed like venom.

“Do you love her?” Yuqi’s Alpha demanded, eyes burning.

Yuqi didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“She is the reason your brother is dead.”

“She’s not her father.”

“And that means nothing.”

Yuqi left that night. She didn’t look back.

War broke out weeks later.

Not just because of them. But they were the spark. The symbol. The excuse both sides had been waiting for.

There was a battle. Loud. Brutal. The forest burned, and blood soaked the roots.

In the chaos, Yuqi fought tooth and nail—only to find Soyeon bleeding at the edge of the battlefield, her pale skin marred, her breaths shallow.

Yuqi dropped to her knees beside her. “Hey—hey, stay with me.”

Soyeon opened her eyes, barely a whisper of a smile on her lips. “You came.”

“Always.”

Yuqi pressed her forehead to hers. “I won’t lose you. Not like this. Not to them.”

“Then stop them,” Soyeon breathed. “End it.”

Yuqi did.

She shifted back to human form, stood in the heart of the field, and roared—not as a wolf, not as a warrior, but as someone in love. Someone done hiding.

“We’re not enemies,” she cried. “Not anymore. If any of you want to keep fighting, you’ll have to go through me.”

One by one, they lowered their weapons.

Maybe they were tired. Maybe they were ready for something new. Or maybe, just maybe, love had softened even the hardest of hearts.

In the years that followed, peace took root like wildflowers.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still whispers.

Still wounds.

But Yuqi and Soyeon built something from the ashes. A quiet life. A home near the border that no longer existed. They planted herbs and raised wolves and read old vampire literature by candlelight. Some nights they still slept with one eye open.

But most nights… they just held each other.

And that was enough.