The wind howled through the narrow Seoul alleyway, carrying with it the scent of rain, oil, and something else—something sweet and unmistakable.
Blood.
Raon stood silently on the rooftop overlooking Jungho's apartment, eyes closed, breathing in the trace of it in the air. Not human blood. His blood. That familiar scent that had haunted Raon through lifetimes. Even after a hundred years, it hadn't changed.
But now, there was something wrong.
The scent was... stirring. Reacting. Awakening.
Jungho tossed and turned in his bed, sheets tangled around his legs. Sweat clung to his skin. He couldn't sleep. Not after what Raon said.
A vessel. A reincarnated soul. Hunted by dark creatures.
Ridiculous.
Except… he had started hearing things. Whispers when no one was near. Shadows moving too fast. And worst of all—his reflection in the mirror had flickered earlier. For a moment, his eyes looked gold.
He sat up suddenly, heart pounding.
"No. I'm just tired. That's all."
He stood and walked to the bathroom. Washed his face. Avoided looking at the mirror too long. But as he dried his face and turned to leave, he felt it.
Something inside him shifted.
A pulse.
A beat that wasn't just from his heart.
Then came the burn—sharp and bright, like a star igniting behind his ribcage. He gasped, clutching at his chest, stumbling backward. His knees hit the tiled floor with a hard crack. The world blurred. Voices—not his own—echoed in his mind.
"You were born for this."
"He will come for you."
"You must awaken."
And then silence.
Jungho opened his eyes.
The mirror was shattered.
And written across the fogged glass, as if carved by an invisible hand, were the words:
"You are not alone."
The next morning, the city looked the same.
Crowded, noisy, alive.
But Jungho didn't feel the same. Every person he passed, he could sense something. Like emotional fingerprints. A businessman passed, and Jungho tasted greed. A crying child, and he tasted despair. A woman laughing into her phone, and he tasted love like warm sugar.
It was overwhelming.
He barely made it to class, fingers trembling as he gripped his backpack strap. He slid into his seat, hoping to disappear. But instead, the classroom door slid open—and in walked Raon.
In a dark blazer. Clean-cut. And far too beautiful.
Jungho stared.
"What… are you doing here?" he hissed under his breath.
Raon smirked slightly. "Transferring. I enrolled last night."
"You can't be serious!"
"Why not? I've got several degrees already. One more won't hurt."
Jungho's jaw dropped. "You're stalking me."
"I'm protecting you."
Jungho looked around. No one seemed to notice the tension, or the dangerous glint in Raon's eyes. It was like they were invisible. Or maybe Raon was making it that way.
"Magic," Jungho muttered. "This is so messed up."
Raon leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "Last night, your power started to awaken, didn't it?"
Jungho said nothing.
"You're going to need help controlling it. Or next time, it could consume you."
"You're just trying to scare me," Jungho shot back.
But the truth was, he was scared.
Terrified.
Because a part of him wanted to believe Raon. Wanted to believe that there was a reason for the nightmares, the whispers, the golden eyes. That his life wasn't just classes and ramen and part-time jobs and loneliness.
That he was something more.
Raon pulled back slightly, his voice softer now. "Come with me after class. I'll show you what you are."
An hour later, Jungho found himself riding in Raon's sleek black car through the forested edge of Seoul. They parked near an abandoned temple, overgrown with ivy and hidden from public view. As they stepped inside, Jungho's breath caught.
The air buzzed with power.
Glowing symbols were carved into the walls. A pool in the center of the floor shimmered with liquid starlight. And at the far end of the temple, stood a mirror.
Not a reflection mirror—a memory mirror.
Raon stepped closer to it. "This temple was built centuries ago by a secret order of humans who loved our kind. They believed vampires and humans could coexist… and even love."
Jungho looked at him. "You mean…"
Raon nodded slowly. "You were once one of them."
Jungho stepped toward the mirror.
It flickered.
Images danced across its surface—him, in a hanbok, smiling shyly at Raon beneath cherry blossoms. A kiss stolen behind temple doors. A sword. Fire. A funeral. A vow.
"I'll find you," the past Raon whispered in the vision. "Even if it takes a thousand years."
Jungho stumbled back, breath ragged. "That was… real?"
Raon moved closer, eyes soft. "You're not crazy. You're not broken. You're the boy I've loved for a century. And I made a promise."
Jungho looked up at him, voice cracking. "Why me?"
Raon's voice trembled with emotion. "Because your soul is the only thing that ever made me feel alive."
There was silence between them.
And then, for the first time, Jungho didn't flinch when Raon reached out.
Their fingers brushed.
Something sparked.
The golden glow in Jungho's chest bloomed again—but this time, it didn't burn. It wrapped around him like warmth, like a memory of love that had never truly left.
And he let it in.