Page 106 of King Foretold
With one last touch on Minju’s cheek, I push onto my feet and squint up at the sky, rage building in my chest. If the dark mudang hurts Draco ... I reach for the sword of light, gritting my teeth, but my breath leaves me in a whoosh. I frantically pat my hip and the dragon-scale sheath—theemptydragon-scale sheathe.
“Draco, no.”
My lungs stop working, and all the blood drains out of my body. I nearly collapse onto the ground again, my knees buckling, but I remain upright somehow. Draco took the sword of light. That foolish, reckless child plans to end the dark mudang themself. I focus on my outrage so fear won’t paralyze me.
“If you get so much as a strand of your blue hair hurt, I’ll whup your scaly ass with my nine tails.” I shake my fist at the sky, where the dragon thrashes against the coil of darkness. “Do you hear me?”
I take my gumiho form, desperation and fury wringing my insides. I scale the cliffs with such speed that my paws barely touch the surface. When I see Draco and Daeseong careen toward an outcropping out in the ocean, I change course and push myself even faster, leaping and bounding toward the jutting rock.
I skid to a halt at the bottom of the outcropping. It’s much too steep for my gumiho to climb. I shift to my human form and make the painfully slow ascent up the sheer cliff, searching for every minuscule crack and foothold needed to haul myself up to the peak.
With a labored heave, I hoist my body onto the top, then leap to my feet, expecting to see a blue, serpentine dragon facing off with a churning, oily darkness. Instead, Draco stands in their human form with the sword of light in their hand as the dark mass condenses into Daeseong’s corporeal body. I stumble back, my hand rising to my throat.
“No,” I shout. The dark mudang gives me a leisurely glance over his shoulder, a chilling smile stretching across his face. “No, please. Don’t hurt them.”
I shriek incoherently and sprint toward Daeseong, but I’m not going to reach him in time. I can’t stop the dark mudang. My heart already knows this, and it rips down the middle. I can’t save the kid. My soul already knows this, and it cries a sound of pure anguish. But my eyes refuse to believe the horror unfolding before me. I keep running faster than I’ve ever run.
With a ferocious battle cry, Draco—the brave, good child—raises the sword of light and charges toward Daeseong. The dark mudang’s gaze never leaves my face as he lifts his arm and flicks a single, careless finger.
“No!” The shout rings in my ears before I’m aware my throat is tearing from the force of it.
Darkness ribbons out of Daeseong’s fingertip and flies toward the kid, morphing into a spear. I can catch it—even if I have to throw my body in front of the spear. I will stop it.
I’m almost there, kid.
I’m close. The dark spear whooshes past me. My neck strains as I push myself to move faster.Faster.I leap into the air, my fingers straining to reach the kid. I’m so close ... I can see every shift in Draco’s expression as the spear pierces their chest and bursts out their back.
“N . . . n . . . no . . .” I choke on my scream.
Mouth gaping, Draco glances at their ruined chest. Their knees buckle, but they don’t fall. They cry out in pain as the spear hovers in the air, holding them aloft through their gaping wound. Daeseong’s delighted chuckle fills the night, but I don’t spare him a glance.
“Draco.” I reach their side and wrap my arms around their waist, trying to bear the brunt of their weight. “Hey, kid.”
“Sun ... ny.” They look down at me with wide, stunned eyes.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I nod with a tremulous smile. They cough wetly, and blood dribbles down their chin. I wipe it away frantically. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
I know the dark mudang is watching and enjoying himself, because my sufferingamuseshim. I don’t give a flying fuck. He can watch all he wants. All I see is the kid.
“I don’t w ... want to die.” Draco weaves back and forth on the spear of darkness, moaning weakly, and I hike them up higher against me.
“I won’t let you.” Tears blur my eyes. “I won’t let you die, kid.”
“G ... good.” They smile crookedly at me.Gods.They’re such a beautiful child. But then, they gasp in pain and lurch forward. “Sunny, it hurts.”
“I know.” My voice breaks as I scramble to bear more of their weight. “It hurts me too.”
Their head lolls back, and I stop breathing. Everything ... stops.
I need to lie them down so they can rest—maybe hurt a little less. But I can’t because of the spear skewered through them. The spear the dark mudang is holding aloft to prolong Draco’s suffering. The dark spear that is part Daeseong.
I focus on the rage past the fog of grief until I can think clearly again. Draco needs me. There is so little I can do for them, but I willdieto give them the briefest rest—to alleviate their pain even for a second. A steely calm settles over me, and I turn my gaze toward the dark mudang.
“You.” My lips pull back, and my incisors elongate.
“Who?Me?” Daeseong hoots with mad laughter. “Are you sad your little friend is dying? Does the child’s sufferinghurtyou? I so appreciate the dragon joining in the fun. We both know you care especially about the young ones.”
I look away from the ranting psychopath and focus on the kid. The dark mudang’s laughter dwindles, and his vitriol fills the air. He doesn’t like being disregarded.
