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magnagaruzenmon · 6 months ago

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This Christmas (I'll burn it to the ground)

Merry Christmas to all of those who love Zombies, Kpop, and MTG as much as I do. (I have been playing to much Dead Island 2) Here's hoping I can pull it all together.

I finally made it to the guesthouse, my boots crunching against the gravel as I pushed the door open. Relief swept over me for a fleeting moment—until I realized I wasn’t alone.

There was someone already there, and she was changing.

The soft rustle of fabric froze me in my tracks. She turned sharply, startled, and our eyes locked. Her wide, expressive eyes—big and doelike—struck me like a thunderbolt. There was something in them, a blend of innocence and unspoken intensity, that made my heart stutter. A weird mix of emotions bubbled up—guilt, curiosity, and something warmer that I couldn’t name but tried to smother immediately.

She was standing there, clad only in a simple bra and panties, her cheeks flushing as my presence registered.

“I—uh—” I stammered, tearing my gaze away as quickly as I could. My hand shot up to shield my face. “Venus told me to come here to cool off. I’m not trying to do anything… improper,” I managed to say, my voice more strained than I liked.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by her shaky, “Okay.”

I backed into the doorway of the next room, needing to give her space and myself some time to calm my racing thoughts. The guesthouse smelled faintly of lavender and wood polish, a strange comfort in the chaotic world we were surviving in. But any solace was shattered when I saw movement at the barbed fence outside.

A zombie was clawing its way through, its grotesque face contorted in hunger. With a sigh, I unsheathed my dagger and slipped out. With a quick slash, the dull squelch of the blade met decayed flesh, and it was over. Cleaning the dagger on the zombie’s tattered shirt, I slipped back inside, shaking off the tension.

The girl was still there.

She had finished changing, now wearing one of Venus’s sundresses. It fit her perfectly, the soft fabric draping over her in a way that felt… natural and unfairly captivating. For a moment, I forgot what I was doing, but I quickly bit my tongue. The last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

She was watching me, her expression thoughtful, almost calculating. There was no trace of the earlier shyness—just a quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from her now.

“You’re Dinozen, right?” she asked, her voice steady but with a hint of curiosity.

I nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. That’s me.”

She broke into a smile, her lips curling into a smirk that sent an odd shiver down my spine. “I’ve heard stories about you. A slayer from Hel-La with a heart of gold.” Her tone was teasing, but there was something sharper beneath it. “I didn’t expect you to be so… mundane,” she added, her smirk growing.

Her teasing caught me off guard, and I blinked, unsure how to respond. Just like that, the power dynamic shifted.

She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with amusement—and something more. She extended her hand, her movements fluid and deliberate. “I’m Chowon.”

I hesitated for a moment before taking her hand, but instead of shaking it, I pressed my lips to the back of it, the gesture more instinctive than calculated.

Her smile widened, clearly pleased. “Oh,” she said, her voice low and a touch amused, “a ruthless gentleman. I like it.”

There was a spark in her eyes now, one that hinted at danger, playfulness, and intrigue all at once.

Chowon corners me, her lithe fingers brushing against my jawline with an almost teasing delicacy. The sensation sends a spark through me, subtle but undeniable. Before I can react, we tumble onto the couch together. Her movements are graceful, deliberate, and unrelenting as she straddles me, settling herself on top with a kind of predatory poise.

Her lips curve into a mischievous smile. “So, why do they call you Dinozen?” she asks, her voice low and sultry. “Because I don’t actually think that’s your name.”

Our eyes lock, her gaze playful yet searching, and I feel a sudden weight in the air between us. She bats those impossibly long lashes, weaponizing her doe-like eyes with a kind of innocent cruelty. I know I should deflect or say something clever, but I can’t. I’m too drawn in.

I swallow hard before answering. “People like to say I’m like an apex predator—instinctually at the top of the food chain, basking in its state of zen,” I explain, my voice low, barely audible. “My love of dinosaurs made the nickname stick. So… Dinozen.”

Her smile deepens, her teeth catching the faint light. It’s the kind of smile that’s both knowing and inviting. She leans in, closer now, her breath brushing against my lips, and I catch the faint scent of gooseberries and lilac. The fragrance is intoxicating, too perfect to be real, as if she’s wrapped herself in some kind of spell.

But then I see it—a faint bite mark on her shoulder, just peeking out from the neckline of her dress. My gaze lingers for a second too long. She notices, of course. Chowon’s eyes follow mine, and when she meets my gaze again, she’s smiling.

“Oh, you figured it out,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of pride and challenge. “Yes, I’m a slayer like you.”

I blink, taken aback.

She leans closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispers, “I was reborn helping my girls get out of New York when the zombies came.”

Her words are heavy, laced with memories and something deeper. A hunger begins to build between us, a feeling I can’t quite name but can’t ignore. It’s electric, primal, and utterly overwhelming. She closes the distance between us, our faces now inches apart.

“Are you in a state of zen?” she whispers, her breath warm and soft against my skin.

Her words feel like a spell. My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when I open them again, it’s as if something inside me has been unlocked. Or unchained.

I feel it—the shift.

The part of me I’ve spent so long burying, controlling, suppressing—it rises to the surface, clawing its way free. Imperio Rex. The name feels like fire in my blood, and as it takes hold, my entire perspective changes. My focus shifts from protecting, from doing right, to simply taking what I want.

And what I want is sitting right in front of me in that flirty sundress, her body close enough to touch, her lips almost brushing mine.

Chowon doesn’t flinch. If anything, she leans in, her breathing hitching slightly as her eyes glint with something darker, something wilder. It’s as if she welcomes this shift, as if she’s been waiting for it.

“That’s not the gaze of a hero,” she teases, her voice soft but sharp, a taunt wrapped in velvet.

Her words only fuel the fire inside me. My gaze roams over her, drinking her in. Her figure is exquisite, every curve and line a masterpiece of temptation, but it’s her eyes that hold me. The softness, the doe-like innocence—gone. What stares back at me now is the gaze of a lioness, her hunger matching my own.

Two predators, circling.

Neither of us speaks. The air between us crackles, charged with tension and unspoken desires. Whatever happens next, it feels inevitable, like a collision neither of us can stop—or wants to.

Here’s an expanded and detailed version of your scene, adding more depth to the emotions, tension, and connection between Dinozen and Chowon:

Chowon moved first, closing the space between us in a heartbeat. Her lips crashed against mine, fierce and deliberate, like she had decided the moment and wasn’t going to let it slip away. The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was raw, electric, and unrelenting.

And then, I felt it.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was something deeper, more profound. Our energies shifted, intertwining in a way that left me reeling. For the first time in my life, I felt seen. I felt reciprocation.

Her soul was a mirror of my own—a churning storm of anger and loneliness, a fire that refused to be extinguished. I felt it all: her hunger for mayhem, the thrill of violence, and the exhaustion from constantly holding back for people who expected so much, demanded so much, without ever asking what we needed in return.

It was a soul as bruised and battered as mine.

When she pulled away, her lips just inches from mine, her breathing uneven, she searched my face with those predatory eyes. “How were you reborn?” she asked, her voice low and steady, a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy between us.

I hesitated, the memory of that moment clawing its way to the surface. “I was saving my dad from a zombie,” I said, my voice tinged with bitterness. “I got bitten… and when the chaos hit, my family left me during their escape.”

The words came out heavier than I expected, dragging old wounds into the light. I could feel my anger rising, simmering alongside something darker, something hungrier.

Chowon’s breath hitched, her heart rate spiking—I could hear it, feel it. Without a word, she pulled me into another kiss. This one was different—just as hungry but tinged with something else, a silent acknowledgment of the anger, the pain, and the raw, unfiltered truth we shared.

When we finally broke apart, her gaze locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding. There was no teasing now, no coy smile. Just a woman who saw all of me and wasn’t afraid.

“Always the hero,” she said, her voice a husky whisper. “Well then… tonight, don’t play the role. Be who you are.”

Her words hit me like a jolt, cutting straight through the layers of control I had spent so long building. There was no judgment in her tone, no expectation. Just an invitation. A challenge.

I didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, I let the mask slip. I let the carefully constructed image of Dinozen fall away, piece by piece, until only the raw, unfiltered truth of who I was remained.

And she welcomed it.

For the first time, I felt no need to hold back. No reason to hide. No fear of being too much, too intense, too broken.

Chowon didn’t flinch. If anything, she leaned in closer, her presence steady and unyielding. In that moment, I realized we weren’t just kindred spirits—we were two sides of the same coin, drawn together by the weight of what we’d endured and the unshakable hunger to embrace what we truly were.

Whatever came next, it wouldn’t be quiet. It wouldn’t be safe. But it would be real, but before we could do anything we heard more growls of zombies encircling the party. Chowon and I get up from the couch before slipping out of the guest house

The guesthouse door creaked as we both stepped outside, the cool night air crackling with the distant groans of the undead. The swarm had breached the perimeter—a mistake they wouldn’t live long enough to regret.

Chowon twirled her machete lazily in one hand, the moonlight glinting off the blade. She gave me a look, her smile sharp and playful. “You ready to let loose?”

My dagger felt steady in my hand, but my heart pounded for an entirely different reason as I met her gaze. “I think you’ve got more to prove than me,” I shot back, grinning despite myself. As we walk over the zombie I had previously slain.

She laughed, a sound both sweet and unnerving. “Let’s see who makes the bigger mess.”

Then the first zombie stumbled into view, and all hell broke loose.

We moved like a deadly symphony, two parts of the same chaotic whole. Chowon darted forward, her blade slicing through rotted flesh with precision. Her movements were graceful, almost balletic, as if every kill were a carefully choreographed dance.

I wasn’t as elegant. I was raw power, using my knife and my fists when needed, each strike fueled by a deep well of frustration and hunger. The undead fell in heaps around me, but every now and then, I caught a glimpse of Chowon—her lithe figure spinning and twisting, her sundress smeared with blood but her expression radiant, alive.

The horde was relentless, but we were more so.

At one point, we ended up back-to-back, surrounded. Her voice was low, teasing, even as she hacked through another zombie. “Still feeling zen, Dinozen?”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “More like… alive,” I admitted, plunging my blade into another corpse.

Her laugh rang out again, wild and unrestrained. “I love it.”

As the swarm thinned, something shifted between us. We weren’t just fighting anymore; we were feeding off each other’s energy. Every shared glance, every brush of her arm against mine as we moved, heightened the tension between us.

Blood streaked her face, her doe-like eyes now alight with something feral. She caught me staring and smirked, slicing through a zombie with a flourish before turning to me. “What, admiring my form?”

I wiped sweat and blood from my brow, unable to resist the way my lips quirked upward. “It’s decent,” I teased, though my voice betrayed how much more I thought.

She stepped closer, her chest rising and falling as we stood amid the carnage. Her machete dangled loosely at her side, forgotten for a moment as her eyes locked onto mine. “Decent?” she repeated, her voice a whisper now, tinged with mock offense.

“Better than decent,” I admitted, my voice rough from exertion.

Her lips curved into a genuine smile—one that made the world around us fade, if only for a moment. We head back to the guesthouse our bodies electric as we can't deny the attraction we felt anymore.

I tear off that sundress that hides her delicious curves and I tear off the lingerie that hides her from me. She did the same and as we stood bare before each other she pounced on me. Her hands claw into my back but I don’t feel pain only invigorated She claims me with another bit on my other shoulder further linking us now both virally and emotionally I follow suit and bite her other shoulder. Our bite marks now creating mirror pairs, but now I need her carnally I see her eyes yelling “take me make me yours!” So I do just that. I violently thrust my cock inside her. Chowon moans as her insides welcome me. I fit perfectly inside of her, something she makes very clear by saying

“Oh fuck your cock. It’s so good.” I smile and begin to suck on her massive tits. She moans out as I thrust and suck on her tits like a man dying of thirst. Chowon coos as her body reacts violently. Her back arches towards me as I lightly nibble her nipple. She grabs my face and brings me in for another kiss. Fire runs through both of veins as we copulate. I continue thrusting into her and she continues fucking herself on my cock. our moans echo throughout the room as we desperately mate. I feel Chowon's walls clench around me as if to milk me and it works i spew cum into her womb like a volcano, uncontrolled and violent. She moans as her orgasm hits soon after. she smiles then says,

"Fuck!" her eyes narrow and she says "you are mine and I am yours." I nod as our vision goes black before we pass out.

The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the remains of last night’s chaos. The yard outside the guesthouse was a battlefield—a mosaic of dismembered zombies and smeared gore, with the unmistakable stench of death hanging thick in the air.

Venus, the hostess of the party, stepped outside cautiously, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She froze mid-step as she took in the carnage. Around her, other survivors began to stir, their sleepy murmurs turning to gasps of horror and confusion as they joined her on the porch.

"What the hell happened here?" Donny asked, stepping outside and immediately covering his nose with his sleeve. His eyes widened as he surveyed the wreckage.

"Was there a raid? A bomb or something?" Haseul ventured, her voice trembling.

“No,” Venus said slowly, pointing toward the barbed-wire fence. It was still intact, albeit stained with black blood. “No breach. Whatever did this… was already inside.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances. They all knew the stakes of staying here, but no one had heard any alarms or screams during the night.

“Look at those slashes,” Donny's said, kneeling next to a fallen zombie. Its torso was nearly split in two, the edges of the wound clean and precise. “This wasn’t some lucky survivor swinging a baseball bat. This was…” He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Venus crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. “A professional.”

“But who? No one here—” Donny's voice cut off as his gaze lifted toward the guesthouse.

The survivors followed his line of sight. The door to the guesthouse was slightly ajar, the faintest tendrils of smoke curling from a makeshift firepit just outside, where a few zombie skulls were charred black.

Inside the guesthouse, Chowon and I lay tangled together on the couch, both still wearing faint remnants of the night’s battle on our skin—smears of black blood on my jawline, a shallow cut on Chowon’s shoulder that had already begun to heal. The only wounds not healing were the bitemarks from our original infection and each other.

The room was warm with the morning light streaming in, highlighting their serene faces. Chowon’s head rested on my chest, her fingers loosely curled against mine. my arm was draped protectively around her, our breaths rising and falling in sync.

Raph pushed the door open wider, and Venus peered in behind him. The scene they found was at odds with the carnage outside.

“Are they… cuddling?” Raph whispered, dumbfounded.

Venus frowned. “They didn’t leave with the rest of us last night.”

“You think they did all that?” Jihyo asked, jerking her thumb toward the yard.

Venus didn’t answer. Her eyes flicked toward the bite marks on Chowon’s neck and the scratches on my arms. She noticed how our wounds seemed almost healed, despite being fresh hours ago. There was something unsettling about the stillness of our sleep, something off about the peace we exuded.

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t the wind,” Venus muttered, stepping back outside.

As the survivors gathered on the porch, hushed debates about what had happened swirled through the air. Meanwhile, in the guesthouse, my fingers twitched slightly, as if dreaming of the fight, my grip tightening around Chowon for a moment.

She stirred, smiling softly in her sleep, her voice barely audible as she murmured, “Always the hero… even when you’re not trying.”

And the two apex predators, satiated and at peace, slept on.

Jonah stared at the pair on the couch, his jaw slack. “I don’t… What am I even looking at right now?”

Venus crossed her arms, her brow furrowed as she studied Dinozen’s protective arm draped around Chowon. “You’re looking at two people who somehow turned the yard into a zombie graveyard and then decided to take a nap.”

“They’re covered in blood,” one of the other partygoers whispered, their voice trembling.

“Yeah, but… they look so normal,” Jonah said, shaking his head. “Like, I’m half expecting them to wake up and ask if breakfast is ready.”

“They weren’t normal last night,” Venus said sharply, her eyes narrowing. “They stayed behind when we all took cover. And now, this.” She gestured toward the carnage outside.

Another voice chimed in. “You’re telling me those two—just the two of them—took out all those zombies? That’s insane.”

“Look at the wounds on those things,” Jonah said, his tone grim. “Clean cuts, precision kills. Whoever did that knew exactly what they were doing. That wasn’t panic. That was… art.”

“Art?” Venus scoffed. “Try predation.”

The group fell silent, staring at the serene scene before them. Dinozen shifted slightly, murmuring something under his breath as Chowon nestled closer against him, her hand curling around the fabric of his shirt.

“They look so peaceful,” someone said quietly.

“Yeah,” Jonah replied. “Like wolves after a feast.”

Venus took a step forward, her boots creaking on the floorboards. “Whatever they are, they’re not just survivors. Nobody walks out of a night like that without a scratch and sleeps like this.” Her voice dropped lower. “We need to figure out who we’re dealing with. Because if they’re on our side? Fine. But if they’re not…”

Jonah hesitated, glancing back at the open door. “What do you even do against people like that?”

Venus didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped back outside, leaving the others to exchange uneasy glances.

I woke up slowly, the soft morning light filtering through the guesthouse window. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, my mind foggy from the chaos of the night before. But then I felt the warmth against me, the steady rise and fall of someone breathing, and it all came flooding back.

Chowon.

She was curled up against me, her head resting on my shoulder, her arm draped lazily across my chest. Her hair smelled faintly of lilac, with something sweeter I couldn’t place. It was comforting, grounding me in the moment, even as everything else felt surreal.

Her eyes fluttered open, and when she met my gaze, a lazy, mischievous smile spread across her lips. “Morning, hero,” she said, her voice soft but carrying that teasing lilt I was starting to recognize.

I huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Not sure ‘hero’ is the right word after last night.”

She stretched, her fingers brushing against my chest, sending a spark of something electric through me. “True,” she said, her smirk widening. “Maybe ‘beast’ fits better.” There was something in her tone—pride, maybe, or amusement.

Before I could respond, a knock at the door startled both of us.

“Hey, uh… are you two decent?” Jonah’s voice called from the other side, awkward and unsure.

Chowon raised an eyebrow at me, leaning in close to whisper, “Do we want to be?”

I gave her a look, shaking my head despite the smirk pulling at my lips. “Yeah,” I called out. “We’re decent.”

The door creaked open, and Jonah stepped in, looking half-relieved and half-terrified. Behind him, Venus lingered in the doorway, her arms crossed and her gaze sharp as a blade.

“So…” Jihyo began, scratching the back of her head. “Crazy night, huh? Any chance you want to explain how you two managed to… you know…” She waved a hand toward the window, where the yard beyond lay strewn with carnage.

Chowon tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh, did something happen?”

Jihyo just stared at her, clearly out of her depth. Venus stepped forward, cutting to the chase. “Don’t play dumb,” she said coldly. “The yard looks like a battlefield. And you two…” She gestured at us. “You look like you didn’t even break a sweat.”

I met her gaze evenly. “We did what needed to be done,” I said. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not ungrateful. I’m just not sure what to make of you two.”

Chowon her tattered clothes did little to hide her body and this tide of possessiveness raged within me with anger at how they looked at her. I caught Jonah’s eyes dropping to her shoulder before they shot back up, his face pale as a ghost. “Uh… what’s that?”

“What’s what?” Chowon asked, her voice all mock innocence.

Jihyo pointed, and my stomach tightened. Her bite scar.

“Wait,” Venus said, her voice low and wary. “Is that… a bite mark?”

Chowon rolls her eyes dismissively, "you know we were both bitten already," she says her tone even hoping not to anger the rest of the group.

Venus eyes us and says, "Yeah we knew. about the other one but why do you have two now?

Sighing, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the scar on my forearm. “Yeah,” I said flatly. “We’ve been bitten.”

The room fell silent, everyone staring at us like we’d just sprouted fangs. Raph broke the silence, his voice shaky. “But… you’re not… you didn’t turn?”

Chowon smirked, glancing at me. “Nope. Guess we’re special.”

“Special?” Venus repeated, her tone laced with suspicion. “Or infected differently? How do we know this doesn’t mean something worse?”

“Because we’re still here,” I said, my voice firm. “If we weren’t immune, you’d all be dead by now.”

Donny's eyes darted between us, his expression torn between awe and unease. “Still… something’s different about you two. It’s not just the scars. You… feel different.”

I didn’t have a good response for that, and neither did Chowon. She just shrugged, brushing past Venus with that same breezy confidence. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

I followed her toward the door, the rest of the group trailing behind us hesitantly. I could feel their eyes on the scars, like they were trying to piece together some unspoken truth.

As we stepped outside, the aftermath of the night’s rampage hit me in full. Zombies torn apart, blood and gore staining the ground, and a mess of destruction that could only be described as primal.

Chowon and I walked through it like we belonged there, side by side, as if the carnage was some twisted monument to what we’d become.

Behind us, I heard Jihyo whisper, “They’re not just immune, are they?”

“No,” Venus replied, her voice grim. “They’re something else.”

I glanced at Chowon, catching the faint smirk on her lips. Maybe Venus was right. Maybe we were something else..

I stepped out into the bright morning sunlight, stretching my arms wide as though shaking off the stiffness of sleep. My muscles ached, but it wasn’t a bad ache—it was the satisfying kind, the reminder of a job well done. Beside me, Chowon followed, tying her hair back in a loose ponytail. Her steps were deliberate, calculated, but she carried herself with the kind of grace that seemed to melt away suspicion.

Venus and Jihyo were standing by the remains of the fire pit, poking at the charred logs with sticks, while Jonah and Donny scouted the edges of the yard. Raph sat perched on a broken log, flipping his knife over in his hands, his gaze shifting between us and the destruction.

The tension was still thick in the air, coiled tight like a spring, but I could feel it loosening the moment we appeared. The group’s eyes darted to Chowon first, and then to me. I made a point of smiling—easy, warm, the kind of smile that always worked to smooth over rough edges.

“Morning, everyone,” I called, forcing a yawn into my voice to make it seem like we’d just woken up. “Looks like we missed a hell of a night out here.”

Jihyo gave a dry laugh, her arms crossed. “You can say that again.”

Chowon stepped forward, folding her hands in front of her like some picture of innocence. Her head tilted slightly, her expression soft but curious. “Are… are you all okay? No one got hurt, right?” Her voice was quiet, almost fragile, and I saw the way it disarmed them instantly.

Raph scoffed but didn’t press. Donny’s shoulders eased. Even Venus, who had been glaring daggers at us earlier, seemed to falter just a little.

“We’re fine,” Jihyo said, her tone softer than before. “No thanks to the circus act that went on out here.” She gestured vaguely to the carnage surrounding us.

I rubbed the back of my neck, letting out a sheepish chuckle. “Yeah, about that. I guess things got… a little out of hand.”

“A little?” Venus muttered under her breath.

Chowon sighed, her gaze sweeping across the yard, her lips pressing into a thin line. “We just… we wanted to make sure everyone was safe. That’s all.” Her tone carried just enough guilt to sound believable, as if she was genuinely ashamed of what we’d done.

I stepped in, my hand brushing lightly against her shoulder in what I hoped looked like reassurance. “We had to make a choice. They were getting too close to the house. We couldn’t risk it.”

The group exchanged glances, their unease cracking just a bit under the weight of my words.

“It’s just…” Donny started, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just crazy how you two pulled that off.”

“Luck,” I said quickly, waving a hand. “We’ve had… practice.”

Chowon looked down, biting her lip like the very thought made her uncomfortable. “It’s not something I like doing,” she murmured. “But I couldn’t just… I mean, what if they got to you guys? What if someone got hurt?” Her voice cracked slightly, and that was the nail in the coffin.

Jihyo’s face softened, and she stepped forward, placing a hand on Chowon’s arm. “Hey, you did what you had to do. I don’t think anyone’s blaming you for that.”

Chowon nodded, her expression a perfect mix of gratitude and humility, and I had to bite back the smirk threatening to pull at my lips.

“Besides,” I added, my voice light, “it’s over now. We can clean up, regroup, and figure out the next steps. No use dwelling on it, right?”

The group nodded, their focus shifting away from us and toward more practical concerns. The tension broke completely when Donny called out from the edge of the yard, waving a hand. “Hey! I found a couple of intact water bottles over here!”

The moment their attention turned, Chowon glanced at me, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smirk. Her eyes gleamed, just for a moment, with the same predatory hunger I’d seen the night before. I mirrored it, my own mask slipping for just a second before I tightened it back into place.

The group didn’t need to know what we really were. They didn’t need to see the predators that had taken up residence inside us. Not yet.

For now, our masks were enough.

And for now, we were satisfied.

The caravan was loud with the sound of engines sputtering to life, the groan of doors swinging shut, and the rustle of last-minute supplies being stowed. I leaned against the side of one of the battered SUVs, watching the group finalize their preparations. Chowon stood a few feet away, tossing a bag into the back of her vehicle. Her hair caught the morning sun, a streak of gold against the drab gray of the world around us.

She glanced over at me, and for a moment, we shared a look. Her lips twitched upward in that lazy, knowing smirk of hers—the one that always made something primal stir deep in my chest. My fingers flexed at my sides involuntarily, the urge to be near her gnawing at me. But then Nayoung’s voice cut through the moment like a jagged blade.

“Uh… I was thinking,” she began, hesitantly, her voice just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Maybe it’d be better if Chowon and Dino rode in separate cars. You know, just to… spread things out.”

The suggestion hung in the air, heavy and awkward. I felt the heat rise in my chest, the pulse of anger flashing through me. My jaw tightened. My fists curled at my sides. I wanted to snap, to tell her to mind her own business. Who was she to decide that I couldn’t ride with my equal—my mate? The thought of Chowon being apart from me, even for a short drive, felt wrong, like something vital being torn away.

But I couldn’t show that. Not now. Not to them.

So, I forced a grin. “Sure, Nayoung,” I said evenly, as if her words hadn’t scraped against every nerve in my body. “Whatever makes everyone more comfortable.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though she still didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s just… you two seem, uh, close. And maybe some space would be good—for the group, I mean.”

Chowon, to her credit, didn’t rise to the bait. She just raised an eyebrow and gave me a small shrug, like it was all a joke to her. “Fine by me,” she said, her tone light but carrying that edge of amusement. “Just don’t get too lonely without me, Dino.”

My lips quirked into a smirk that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’ll manage.”

Internally, though, the possessiveness burned. I hated that she was being shuffled off like we were some kind of threat, that Nayoung—or anyone—thought they had the right to dictate where we stood. We’d done more for this group in one night than most of them had done in weeks. And yet, here I was, swallowing my pride, because that’s what the “hero” would do.

Chowon climbed into the SUV without another word, her confidence radiating even as the door slammed shut. I turned to my assigned vehicle, forcing my feet to move even though every instinct screamed to follow her instead.

Venus stood near the driver’s seat, her sharp gaze tracking my every move. “You okay with this?” she asked, her tone as neutral as she could manage, but her eyes betrayed her suspicion.

I shrugged, slipping into the seat next to her. “What’s there to be upset about?” I said, my voice smooth, practiced. “It’s just a car ride.”

She didn’t reply, but her silence felt loaded, like she was waiting for something to slip.

As the caravan rolled out, the world outside blurred into a haze of trees and broken roads. I kept my eyes on the SUV ahead of us, knowing Chowon was inside. The thought of her alone, without me to watch her back, sent a low growl vibrating through my chest. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to focus on the rumble of the engine beneath me instead.

The predator inside me snarled, furious and restless. But I breathed through it, letting the mask settle back into place. For now, I’d play the part. For now, I’d keep the peace.

Because the truth was, Nayoung wasn’t entirely wrong. Chowon and I together—unchecked—was something none of them were ready to face.

Not yet.

And maybe that was for the best.

For now.

I would find out later that Chowon felt the separation anxiety even more than I had.

The steady hum of the engine filled the car as Chowon sat quietly in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Nayoung was behind the wheel, her hands gripping it tightly, her knuckles pale from tension. She glanced sideways at Chowon every so often, the silence between them heavy and awkward.

“I’m glad we’re finally moving,” Nayoung said, her voice overly bright, like she was trying too hard to keep things light. “Being stuck in one place felt… dangerous.”

Chowon nodded, offering a shy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, it’s good to get some distance,” she said softly. “Safety in numbers, right?”

Nayoung relaxed slightly, her grip on the wheel loosening just a bit. “Exactly,” she said, though her voice still carried an edge of nervousness. “And, um… spreading everyone out for the ride made sense, too. Gives people some space.”

Her words made Chowon’s stomach churn. Space? From Dinozen? Her instincts roared against the idea, the predator inside her snarling at the separation. It was wrong, unnatural. She and Dinozen were a unit, two halves of a whole. Being apart from him felt like losing a part of herself.

But on the surface, Chowon’s expression didn’t falter. She tilted her head slightly, her smile remaining soft and understanding. “Of course,” she said gently. “You’re just looking out for everyone. That’s really thoughtful of you, Nayoung.”

Nayoung glanced at her, her expression easing a little at the words. “I just… I’ve seen how close you and Dinozen are, and I couldn’t help but worry, you know? I mean, after last night…”

Chowon felt a flare of anger deep in her chest, sharp and hot. She kept her hands folded in her lap to hide the way her nails dug into her palms. Last night had been perfect—a primal, untamed connection between her and Dinozen. No one had the right to question it.

But she kept her voice light and her expression calm. “I get it,” she murmured, her tone tinged with bashfulness. “It probably looked… intense. I didn’t mean to scare anyone. Dinozen and I just… trust each other. That’s all.”

Nayoung glanced at her again, a hint of doubt in her eyes. “Trust, huh?” she said cautiously. “It just seemed like… I don’t know. Like you weren’t even afraid. You and Dinozen… you acted like—”

“Like what?” Chowon asked, her tone quiet but curious, encouraging Nayoung to continue.

Nayoung hesitated, her fingers tightening on the wheel again. “Like you weren’t human,” she finally said.

Chowon’s chest tightened, and for a moment, she wanted to laugh. If only Nayoung knew how close to the truth she was. But instead, she lowered her gaze, letting a faint blush rise to her cheeks. “I guess you stop thinking about fear when people are counting on you,” she said softly.

Nayoung nodded slowly, though her grip on the wheel remained firm. “Maybe,” she said, her voice uncertain. “I just want to make sure everyone’s okay. Including you and Dinozen.”

Her words were meant to reassure, but they only fueled the frustration simmering beneath Chowon’s calm exterior. She and Dinozen didn’t need Nayoung’s concern. They were stronger than anyone else in the group. Stronger together.

But Chowon’s smile stayed in place, warm and disarming. “Thanks, Nayoung,” she said, her voice gentle. “That means a lot. You’re a good leader, you know. You’re always thinking about what’s best for everyone.”

Nayoung blinked at the unexpected compliment, her cheeks flushing faintly. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, her voice flustered. “I just… try my best.”

“And it shows,” Chowon said kindly. “We’re lucky to have you.”

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence, Nayoung visibly relaxing while Chowon’s thoughts churned. Her gaze remained on the road ahead, but her mind was with Dinozen, riding in another vehicle somewhere behind them. The separation gnawed at her, an ache that only grew with each passing mile.

Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, her nails pressing into her skin as she fought to keep the frustration from surfacing. Let Nayoung think she’d done the right thing. Let her believe Chowon was the shy, caring leader she wanted her to be.

For now, Chowon could wear the mask.

But when the time came, when she and Dinozen stood side by side again, nothing—not Nayoung, not the group, not even the world—would keep them apart.

Mikey and Chaehyun’s safe house was a welcome sight—tucked into a quiet, wooded clearing, with high fences and a sturdy-looking building that practically screamed, This place is safe, or as close to it as you’ll get. Still, I felt uneasy as we pulled up, the faint scent of decay still lingering in the air despite the relative quiet. Chowon and I had been separated during the ride, and now, as we stepped out of the vehicles, that distance lingered like an ache just under my skin.

Sakura was quick to approach, clipboard in hand like she was already mentally assigning jobs. “Alright, let’s get this place fortified,” she said briskly, her sharp gaze scanning each of us. “Mikey and Chaehyun did well setting this up, but it’s not perfect. We’ll need to check the perimeter, strengthen weak points in the fencing, and clear out anything that might attract trouble.”

I caught Chowon’s eye as she hopped out of the other vehicle, her movements fluid and easy despite the long ride. She looked my way for the briefest moment, her expression unreadable, before Sakura stepped between us.

“Dinozen,” Sakura said, her tone firm, “you’re on perimeter patrol with Leo. Chowon can help Mikey with the fences.”

My jaw tightened at the way she separated us so deliberately, as if we couldn’t be trusted to work together. I felt that familiar heat rise in my chest—possessive, primal, protective—but I swallowed it down. These people didn’t understand us, not yet. Maybe they never would.

“Sure,” I said coolly, shrugging like it didn’t bother me. “Perimeter patrol sounds fun.”

Leo sidled up to me, his usual easygoing grin replaced with something more cautious. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip just a little too tight. “Let’s go, man,” he said. “Got to make sure nothing sneaks up on us.”

Chowon was already moving toward Mikey, her gait relaxed, but I caught the flicker of tension in her movements—the way her fingers curled slightly, her nails brushing against her palm. She wasn’t happy about this either, but outwardly, she wore her usual bashful smile.

“Come on, Mikey,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s see what needs fixing.”

Sakura watched her go before turning back to me and Leo. “Keep your eyes open,” she said. “And stay focused. No distractions.”

I nodded, biting back a sarcastic remark. Instead, I glanced toward the house where Chaehyun stood by the door, her arms crossed, watching all of us with a mix of curiosity and caution. This wasn’t just about fortifying the safe house; it was about fortifying the group’s trust—or lack thereof.

Leo led the way toward the treeline, his machete in hand, while I trailed behind, scanning the perimeter with practiced ease. My thoughts, though, were elsewhere—on Chowon. On the way her scent had lingered in the car even after she was gone. On the way her absence felt like a missing piece of me.

“So,” Leo said, breaking the silence as we walked, “you and Chowon seem… close.”

I glanced at him, my expression neutral. “We’ve been through a lot together,” I said simply.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, though his tone was cautious. “But some of the others are… worried. After what happened last night.”

“They’re alive because of us,” I said, my voice sharp despite my efforts to keep it level.

Leo nodded quickly. “I’m not saying they aren’t grateful. Just… things looked a little intense, you know? People are still trying to figure out what to make of it.”

I didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch between us. Let them worry. Let them guess. As long as they stayed out of our way when it counted, that was all that mattered.

Meanwhile, I could hear Chowon’s voice in the distance, faint but distinct, as she talked to Mikey about the fence. She laughed at something he said, the sound light and airy, but I could feel the tension beneath it like a wire pulled taut.

By the time we circled back to the others, the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky. Chowon was standing by the fence, her hands on her hips, inspecting the repairs. Mikey was chatting animatedly beside her, but her attention shifted the moment she saw me.

Sakura stepped in again, her timing almost comical in its precision. “Good work,” she said briskly, addressing me and Leo. “Now let’s see if we can reinforce the house itself. Chowon, you stay with Mikey and Chaehyun for now.”

Chowon’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—annoyance, maybe, or a quiet defiance. She nodded, though, her demeanor as shy and accommodating as ever.

“Of course,” she said sweetly. “Whatever you think is best.”

I turned away before anyone could see the irritation creeping into my features. It wasn’t the right time to push back, not yet. But as we worked through the evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling that separating us wasn’t just about safety.

It was about fear.

They were afraid of what we were—what we might become. Which saddened me more than it should have.

I was leaning against the safe house’s patched-up railing, enjoying the quiet for once. The group had settled in for afternoon , the tension that came with a new place giving way to a cautious calm. I was sharpening my dagger, the rhythmic scrape of the blade against the whetstone grounding me, when Leo, Donny, and Raph approached.

The three of them shuffled awkwardly, like schoolboys about to ask the teacher for help. I didn’t look up at first, letting them squirm. Finally, Leo cleared his throat.

“Uh, hey, Dinozen,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “You got a minute?”

I glanced up, deliberately slow, then tucked the my dagger and stone into my belt. “What’s up?”

Donny hesitated, his cheeks already a little red. “We, uh… we kind of need some advice. Relationship advice.”

My grip tightened for a split second, a surge of something dark and possessive rising in me. Tensions among them could work in my favor, I thought. Distract them, make them look at each other instead of us. But outwardly, I kept my expression calm and curious, tilting my head like I was genuinely interested.

“Relationship advice?” I asked, the corner of my mouth quirking up in a faint smile. “Didn’t think I was the type to give it, but sure. Shoot.”

Leo spoke first, his voice low. “It’s about Sakura. I mean, I think she might be interested, but she’s so… focused. Every time I try to talk to her, she brushes me off. I don’t know if she’s not into me or if she just doesn’t notice.”

Donny chimed in, almost cutting Leo off. “And Venus. She’s… intense, you know? But I think there’s something there. I just don’t know how to… approach her without looking like an idiot.”

I caught myself before I laughed aloud. Venus and Jihyo had been paired off since before I joined this group. The two of them might not have announced it outright, but the signs were there—the subtle, protective touches, the way they moved in sync, the private looks.

Donny’s chasing a ghost, I thought.

Then Raph added his voice to the mix. “And Haseul… I think maybe she’s been trying to… you know, drop hints? But I’m not sure if she’s just being nice or…”

Now that’s a smarter path, I thought. Haseul had been hovering near Raph more often lately, her gaze lingering when he wasn’t looking.

I leaned back against the railing, crossing my arms. Internally, my mind was already weaving threads, possibilities. If Leo and Donny turned their attention to their own pursuits, they’d have less time to focus on Chowon and me. Better yet, if things went wrong, the tension could splinter the group further. It was almost too easy.

But outwardly, I played the part of the helpful friend. “First off,” I said, “you’re all overthinking this.” I pointed at Leo. “Sakura’s the kind of person who respects directness. If you keep skirting around what you want, she’s going to assume you don’t mean it. Be upfront with her, but keep it simple. Ask her to take a break with you—something small, something that lets her focus on you for a few minutes. She’s busy, yeah, but she’s not unfeeling. Give her a reason to look at you.”

Leo nodded slowly, his brow furrowed like he was committing every word to memory.

Then I turned to Donny, keeping my voice even. “As for Venus… look, man, I hate to say it, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. Venus and Jihyo? They’ve got their own thing going on. It’s quiet, sure, but it’s there. You don’t want to put yourself in that situation.”

Donny blinked, his face falling slightly. “Oh,” he muttered.

I clapped him on the shoulder, offering a faint smile. “Don’t take it too hard. You’ll find someone who’s actually looking back at you. You’ve got the charm—just pick the right target.”

Finally, I turned to Raph, my smirk softening. “And Haseul? She’s already looking at you, man. Don’t overthink it. She’s not the kind to play games. If she’s giving you her time, it means she wants you to notice her. Just talk to her, like a person. Don’t make it bigger than it is.”

Raph’s expression shifted from nervous to thoughtful, his lips pressing into a determined line.

“Think you can manage that?” I asked, my tone light, like this was all casual advice from a guy who had it all figured out.

“Yeah,” Leo said after a moment. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Same,” Donny added, his voice firmer now.

Raph nodded as well, his eyes flickering with something like hope.

They all thanked me and wandered off, their heads already buzzing with plans. I watched them go, the faintest smirk tugging at my lips. I’d given them real advice, sure—good advice, even. But I’d also planted seeds. If Leo focused on Sakura and Donny redirected his efforts, the tension in the group might shift in ways that kept Chowon and me out of the spotlight.

And if Raph managed to connect with Haseul? Well, that was one less pair of eyes watching us.

I turned back to my dagger, picking up the whetstone and resuming the steady, calming scrape of blade against stone. They didn’t need to know how much I’d wanted to laugh at their nervousness or how little their problems mattered to me in the grand scheme of things.

As long as they stayed distracted, we could stay safe.

The late afternoon had settled in, and the house was quieter than usual, with most of the group winding down or keeping busy with last-minute chores. I’d done my part, but I couldn’t ignore the pull inside me—the pull to find her.

Chowon.

She’d been busy all day, just like everyone else, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the need for solitude. Neither of us could. So, when I noticed she’d slipped away, I didn’t think twice. I followed.

I found her in a small room at the back of the house—just a storage space, really, but it offered the kind of privacy we both craved. She was leaning against the door, her breathing shallow, like she had something weighing on her. When she saw me, her lips curved into that soft, bashful smile of hers. It made the beast inside me stir.

“You knew I’d come,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I didn’t reply at first. I couldn’t. It was one of those moments where everything else faded away, and all I could focus on was the way she looked at me. Like she wanted more but was scared of what that might mean.

Slowly, I crossed the room, my every step measured, like I was stalking prey—but she wasn’t prey, not in the way the world would think. She was mine. In a way no one else could understand. My equal. And there was a fire inside me—an unquenchable hunger—that flared every time she got close.

When I reached her, our gazes locked, and the space between us seemed to shrink. I could feel the raw energy crackling between us, a constant push and pull. Her fingers brushed against my arm, sending a pulse of electricity straight to my chest.

The mask we wore—the one that kept us from slipping into our darker instincts—was slipping. I could feel it. And it felt so damn good.

I leaned in, closer than I should have, letting her feel the heat of my breath on her skin. “You know, you’re not asking for permission, Chowon,” I said, my voice low, tinged with something dangerous.

She swallowed, a slight shiver running through her. I knew what she felt—the same thing I did. The pull, the need to break free of everything we were supposed to be.

“Maybe I’m not,” she said, her voice barely audible. Her fingers slid up my chest, and I had to bite back a growl. Everything in me screamed to take control, to claim what was mine. But I held back—just enough to let her make the choice.

The door creaked open behind us. I tensed, instinctively pulling back.

“Chowon?” Nayoung’s voice, uncertain and high-pitched, broke the moment.

Chowon immediately stepped away from me, her face flushing with embarrassment. She cleared her throat, trying to act casual, but I could feel the weight of the interruption on her, too. She had wanted this as much as I had.

Nayoung stood there, wide-eyed, staring at the two of us. I didn’t care what she saw. But Chowon… she was still trying to maintain her composure. “I was looking for you,” Nayoung added, her voice awkward.

I shot her a glance, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s fine, Nayoung. Just give us a moment.”

Nayoung hesitated, glancing between us with that familiar uncertainty, then nodded and stepped out of the room. I didn’t miss the look she shot Chowon before the door clicked shut.

Chowon sighed, letting her shoulders drop as she leaned back against the wall. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain her composure, but I could tell she was still shaken. It was just like her—trying to act like nothing had happened, like the hunger between us wasn’t real, wasn’t something she craved too.

“You’re not the only one who’s good at hiding things,” I muttered under my breath, stepping closer again.

She met my eyes, her lips curling into that soft, rueful smile. “I wasn’t hiding anything.”

“Of course you weren’t,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. But there was an understanding there too—an acknowledgment of what we were. “Neither was I.”

She looked away, but I caught the flash of something darker in her eyes, a fleeting reminder that we were both far from innocent. “Later,” she said, as though trying to pull herself together, smoothing down her clothes like she wasn’t just moments away from devouring me.

I nodded, though I wasn’t so sure “later” was going to be enough. We both knew the truth now.

We stepped out of the room together, the weight of the moment hanging between us, unspoken but undeniable. As we walked back into the chaos of the house, I couldn’t help but glance at her, the bond we shared undeniable.

And as we rejoined the others, I knew that whatever happened—no matter how much we tried to fight it—this hunger, this need, wouldn’t be so easily ignored.

When Chowon and I returned to the group, the air shifted instantly. It always did when we walked into a room together. It wasn’t something we tried to do, but people noticed. Their eyes followed us, their postures stiffened. It was the kind of attention predators gave to other predators when they didn’t know whether to trust them—or run.

The others were scattered around the central living room, doing whatever passed for relaxation these days. Leo and Sakura were hunched over a map, marking supply routes with careful precision. Donny was fiddling with a makeshift antenna, muttering about improving the safe house’s radio signal. Raph and Haseul were by the window, whispering about something that made Haseul’s cheeks flush pink. Venus and Jihyo were on the couch, arms brushing but pretending not to notice.

When we stepped into the room, all those little pockets of activity froze.

Leo glanced up first, his expression unreadable but his shoulders tensing just the same. “Back already?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with an edge I couldn’t ignore.

Chowon was quicker to answer. She plastered on one of her signature soft smiles—the kind that made her look like she couldn’t hurt a fly, even though everyone here knew better. “Just needed a breather,” she said lightly, brushing past me and settling into an empty chair near the couch. “It’s been a long day.”

“Right,” Leo muttered, exchanging a quick look with Sakura, who didn’t bother to hide her wariness.

I stayed standing, leaning casually against the doorway, but I could feel the weight of their stares. My own mask slipped into place—a practiced air of calm and control. It wasn’t hard. They expected me to be the composed, dependable one. The one who kept things steady. If only they knew how thin that line was sometimes.

Donny broke the tension first, glancing up from his antenna with an awkward grin. “Hey, uh, we were talking earlier about fortifying the south side. Might need some extra muscle for that tomorrow.”

“Dino can handle it,” Chowon said easily, her voice as sweet and warm as honey. She shot me a quick, playful glance. “He’s good at heavy lifting.”

I gave her a small smirk, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes but was enough to keep the tone light. “Only if you’re supervising,” I said, my voice low enough that only she could hear the double meaning.

She caught it, of course. Her eyes flicked to mine for a brief moment, something dark and knowing passing between us before she turned her attention back to the group.

“Speaking of tomorrow,” Jihyo chimed in, clearly trying to steer the conversation to safer ground, “we’re low on water. Someone’s going to have to scout the area for another source.”

“I can do it,” Chowon offered quickly, and I felt my chest tighten. The idea of her out there alone, even for a short trip, sent a wave of protectiveness through me that I barely managed to suppress.

“No,” Leo cut in, his tone firm. “We’ll go in pairs. It’s safer that way.” His eyes flicked to me briefly, then back to Chowon. “You and Nayoung can take that one.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay still. The idea of her paired with anyone but me felt wrong, even if I knew it was irrational. Still, I kept my tone even. “Sounds like a good plan,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue.

Chowon didn’t even flinch. She nodded gracefully, folding her hands in her lap like she had no objections. But I knew her well enough to see the flicker of annoyance behind her eyes. She didn’t like being told what to do any more than I did.

As the group settled back into their routines, the tension in the room began to ease. Or at least, they thought it did. I stayed where I was, watching and listening, every sense attuned to the shifting dynamics. Leo and Sakura were still wary, still on edge. Venus kept glancing at Chowon and me when she thought we weren’t looking. Even Donny, with all his awkward charm, seemed less sure of himself around us lately.

It didn’t bother me. Not really. If anything, it kept them predictable. Distracted. As long as their tension was pointed at each other—or at us—I could keep control of the situation.

Chowon caught my eye again from across the room, her expression unreadable but her gaze lingering. The bond between us hummed like a live wire, even in the middle of this crowd. They could separate us for now, keep us at arm’s length. But it wouldn’t last.

We’d always find our way back to each other. And when we did, the masks would slip again.

I wanted to be better.

That thought was loud in my head as I dragged a sheet of metal across the safe houseyard, the makeshift panel screeching against the dirt. My muscles burned from hours of hauling supplies and hammering nails, and the sun overhead felt like it was doing its best to break me. But I didn’t stop.

This was my way of trying to help, of proving that I wasn’t just some unpredictable wildcard in their midst. I could be useful. I could be part of the group.

The others were scattered across the property, all busy with their tasks. Leo was up on the roof with Sakura, patching holes and reinforcing weak spots. Jihyo and Venus were inside, organizing supplies. Raph and Haseul were working on reinforcing the gates. They all seemed comfortable in their little pairs, moving together with an ease that came from trust and familiarity.

And then there was me. Alone.

It didn’t take much to notice the patterns. They didn’t ask me to join in their conversations or include me in their plans. Even now, when every hand mattered, they made a point of keeping me separate. “Dino, can you move those over there?” “Hey, you’re strong—get this done first.” Commands, not invitations.

It shouldn’t have bothered me. I wasn’t new to being treated like an outsider. But the weight of it all settled on me like a stone, pressing harder with every glance that lingered a little too long, every whispered conversation I couldn’t quite hear.

I was halfway through dragging another sheet of metal when it hit me—harder than it should have. A memory, unbidden and sharp as broken glass.

The day I was bitten.

I could still feel the fever that had burned through me, the way my limbs had gone weak, my vision dimming as my body betrayed me. My family had been there—faces pale with horror, tears streaking their cheeks. I had reached for them, begging them to stay, to not leave me alone.

But they had.

The memory of their retreating backs as I collapsed still burned. They had been afraid of what I’d become. And even though I’d survived, even though I wasn’t like the others, that fear had never really gone away.

It was the same fear I saw now, in the way Leo watched me like I might snap at any moment, in the way Venus kept her distance, in the way Jihyo avoided meeting my eyes.

I straightened, the metal sheet dropping from my hands with a thud. My fists clenched at my sides as my breaths came in slow, measured gulps.

I wasn’t one of them. Not really. And maybe I never would be.

I forced myself to focus, to shove those thoughts into the darkest corner of my mind. I picked up the metal sheet again and continued working, but my movements felt heavier now, like I was dragging more than just supplies.

And yet, in the back of my mind, the thought lingered: They’ll never trust you. Not fully. No matter what you do.

Still, I kept going. Because what else was there?

I stepped away from the group, needing space, air, something to calm the gnawing inside me. The predator was stirring again. It always did when I felt cornered—when the isolation, the sideways glances, and the unspoken distrust piled too high.

I found a quiet spot by the treeline and leaned against a weathered trunk, closing my eyes. My chest heaved as I tried to steady myself, my claws itching to come out even though I kept them buried. I wasn’t going to let it win. Not now.

The sound of the wind rustling through the trees should have been soothing, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the voice in my head: They don’t trust you. They never have. They never will.

I dug my fingers into the bark, splintering it beneath my grip, and forced myself to breathe. One… two… three…

Then I heard it—the screams. Distant but unmistakable.

I cursed under my breath, sprinting back toward the group, the predator surging forward like it smelled blood.

When I reached the clearing, the fight was already over. The bodies of infected littered the ground, and the group was huddled together, shaken but mostly unharmed.

All eyes turned to me as I approached, their expressions a mix of relief and suspicion.

“Where the hell were you?” Venus demanded, her voice sharp.

“I stepped away for a minute,” I said, my tone tight.

“A minute?” Donny’s voice cut through the tension, his face flushed with anger. “We were fighting for our lives, and you were just—what? Taking a stroll?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you,” he said, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You slayers are always so selfish, so worthless in a group setting. All you care about is yourselves!”

The words hit harder than they should have, and something inside me snapped.

The predator roared to life, surging forward with a ferocity I couldn’t contain. My vision blurred, and a low growl escaped my throat before I even realized it.

I stepped toward Donny, my muscles tensing as every instinct screamed for recompense. His scent was sharp—fear, adrenaline, something that only fueled the hunger clawing its way up my spine.

“Dinozen,” Chowon’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding.

I froze, my gaze snapping to hers. She stepped between us, her hand lightly brushing my arm, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just her.

“Hey,” she said softly, but there was steel beneath her tone. “We all need to take a breather sometimes. Let it go.”

Donny’s mouth opened, but she shot him a glare that silenced him immediately.

She turned back to me, her eyes searching mine. “Come on,” she said, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

I let her lead me away, my chest still heaving with the effort of keeping the predator at bay. She didn’t say anything until we were far enough from the group that their voices were just a faint murmur.

When we stopped, she turned to face me, her gaze steady.

“Let it out,” she said, her voice calm but firm.

I shook my head, backing away. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” she interrupted, stepping closer. “I’m here. I can handle it.”

Her words broke something in me. The predator surged forward, and I let it. My head tilted back as a roar tore from my throat, reverberating through the trees. It was raw, primal, and louder than I’d ever allowed it to be.

When the sound finally faded, I slumped forward, breathing hard. Chowon’s hand was on my chest, steadying me.

Her eyes softened, and before I could say anything, she leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was grounding, pulling me back from the edge.

“You’re not alone,” she whispered against my lips.

I rested my forehead against hers, closing my eyes. The predator was still there, but it had quieted, content for now.

The living room was lit with a warm glow, the crackle of a fire providing the soundtrack to our makeshift Christmas celebration. Despite everything—the attacks, the tension, the unspoken fears—we had found a moment to gather as a group. A small tree sat in the corner, decorated with scavenged ornaments, and under it were gifts, most wrapped in patchwork paper or cloth.

Venus stood up first, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she held out a small, carefully wrapped box. “Alright, Dinozen,” she said, her voice teasing, “you’re up.”

I blinked, surprised that she’d drawn my name. When I took the package, the weight of it felt solid but unfamiliar. With the group’s eyes on me, I peeled back the paper and froze.

Inside was a revolver-shaped dice chamber. The bullets, each intricately carved into polyhedral dice, gleamed in the light.

“You mentioned liking D&D and guns,” Venus said, her tone nonchalant but her gaze curious, watching for my reaction. “Thought I’d combine the two.”

I turned the revolver chamber in my hands, feeling the weight of it, the craftsmanship. For a moment, the predator inside me stirred, sensing the symbolism of the weapon. But as I looked at Venus, I pushed it down and smiled—genuinely. “This is incredible. Thank you.”

Venus gave a small nod, and I caught a flicker of something—maybe trust—cross her face before she sat back down.

My turn. I reached into the bag beside me and pulled out a small box. “Nagyung,” I said, holding it out. “This one’s for you.”

Nagyung’s face lit up as she unwrapped the gift. Inside was a handheld gaming console I had found and fixed up, complete with a charger. Her eyes widened as she turned it over in her hands.

“You got it working?” she asked, her voice filled with awe.

“Yup,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “Thought you could use something to pass the time when things get quiet.”

She grinned, her excitement contagious. “This is amazing. Thank you!”

As she admired the gift, I noticed something in her gaze—a quick glance toward Donny, then back to the console. The pieces clicked.

“Hey,” I said, standing suddenly and catching everyone’s attention. “Hold up.”

The group stilled, confused, but I ignored them, focusing on Nagyung. “You like Donny, don’t you?”

Her face flushed red, and she stammered, “I—what? I don’t—”

Donny, equally flustered, muttered, “What’s he talking about?”

I raised a hand, cutting off the denials. “Look, it’s Christmas. If there’s ever a time to be honest about how you feel, it’s now.” I looked between the two of them. “Talk. Now.”

The room was silent as Nagyung and Donny hesitated, but then Nagyungtook a deep breath, standing. Donny followed her lead, and together, they walked out of the room, whispering to each other.

When the door closed behind them, the tension in the room shifted. The group looked at me, their expressions softening. For the first time, I saw understanding in their eyes.

“Guess you’ve got a heart after all,” Venus murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Don’t push it,” I replied, but there was no heat in my voice.

The gift exchange continued, the atmosphere lighter now. When it finally ended, Chowon tugged on my sleeve, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.

“Come on,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent.

I didn’t need to be told twice. We slipped away from the group, moving through the quiet hallways until we found a secluded corner.

Chowon turned to me, her eyes dark and predatory, but there was a tenderness there too. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I smirked, stepping closer. “Takes one to know one.”

Her hand slid up my arm, her touch grounding and electrifying all at once. “They’re starting to see you, Dino. The real you. It’s working.”

I tilted my head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You make it easier.”

The predator in me stirred, recognizing her as my equal, my mate. And for once, I didn’t fight it. As our lips met, the masks we wore for the group slipped away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered bond between us. In between messy hungry kisses, Chowon said, “You have no idea how angry I was when Donny came after you. I should have let you tear into him. We should have torn into them all,” Chowon said as her inner lioness sheds its meek mask. Her eyes shone with that familiar hunger. I feel imperious come out and Chowon purrs in satisfaction. “There’s my partner in crime. My equal.” She moans as she goes in for another kiss. we spend the rest of the night together cuddling and enjoying each other's presence.

The moonlight filtered through the cracked blinds of the safe house as Chowon moved silently through the halls. The group had settled in for the night, their murmured conversations and quiet laughter fading into the background. But her focus wasn’t on them. It was on Donny.

She found him sitting alone near the back entrance, fiddling with the straps of his boots. He looked up when he sensed her presence, his posture stiffening.

“Chowon,” he said, his voice cautious. “Something you need?”

Her usual mask—kind, bashful, unassuming—was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was an intensity in her eyes, something primal and dangerous that froze Donny in place. She stepped closer, and though her movements were slow and deliberate, there was an undeniable power in them, like a lioness stalking her prey.

“You’ve got a lot to say about my equal,” she began, her voice low and sharp as a blade. “Too much.”

Donny blinked, his mouth opening to respond, but no words came out.

Chowon leaned in, her face inches from his, and the predatory edge in her gaze made him shrink back. “Listen to me carefully, Donny,” she said, her tone steady and calm, but laced with the unmistakable promise of violence. “If you ever come after Dinozen like that again, I will tear your throat out.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and for a moment, Donny was too stunned to react. He could feel the weight of her presence, the raw, animalistic power she usually kept buried beneath her quiet demeanor.

And then, just as quickly as it had surfaced, it was gone. Chowon straightened, the warmth returning to her eyes as she tilted her head and gave him a gentle, almost apologetic smile. “You should get some rest,” she said sweetly as if nothing had happened. “Long day tomorrow.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Donny sitting there, still trying to process what had just happened.

As Chowon disappeared into the shadows, the predator within her purred in satisfaction. Her equal was safe, and the balance had been restored. For now.

We were nearly ready to leave the safe house, the group moving like a well-oiled machine, though the unease of what lay ahead was palpable. I busied myself with the perimeter, scanning the tree line and listening for any sound out of place. The air had a weight to it, a sense that something wasn’t right, but I chalked it up to nerves.

Then the ground started trembling.

“Everyone, on alert!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the bustle.

The first thing I saw was the treeline parting as a massive creature—a hulking monstrosity of decay and muscle—lurched forward. It shouldn’t have been able to move so fast, but it did, each step shaking the earth. And then it opened its mouth and breathed fire.

“Scatter!” I roared, drawing my weapon and placing myself between the group and the beast.

Chaos erupted as flames licked the edges of the safe house, forcing the others to dive for cover. My heart pounded, the predator within me straining against my control, but I couldn’t let it take over. Not now. Not in front of them.

The monster charged, and I met it head-on, weaving past its fiery breath and slashing at its joints. My strikes landed, but this thing wasn’t going down easy. Every swing of its massive claws forced me back, each roar rattling my bones.

“Dino!” Chowon’s voice reached me, frantic and desperate.

“Stay with them!” I barked, not daring to look at her. “I’ve got this!”

But the beast had other plans. Its massive claw lashed out, wrapping around me like a vice. I thrashed, slashing and kicking, but it was no use. The world tilted as it yanked me off the ground, dragging me away.

“Chowon!” I shouted, but I couldn’t see her anymore. Only the burning horizon and the sound of the group retreating.

Sakura grabbed her arm. “Chowon, we have to go!”

“I’m not leaving him!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion.

The group hesitated, torn between their loyalty to Chowon and their survival instincts. Finally, Leo spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “We don’t have a choice. He wouldn’t want us to die here.”

The group began to retreat, dragging Chowon with them. She fought them every step of the way, but eventually, she relented, her eyes never leaving the direction Dinozen had been taken.

An hour later, Chowon sat alone by the charred remains of a tree, her knees pulled to her chest. Her mind raced, torn between worry for Dinozen and guilt for letting the group leave without her.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense, her hand instinctively going to her knife. A figure emerged from the shadows—a tall man with dark eyes and a calm, almost disarming smile.

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