He felt the soft breeze brushing against his skin. It was cold—in fact, it was freezing. Yet, the young angel had been in that cell for a long time, and he had no breeze at all, due to its not having any window to the outside.

In addition, he was hot in that stuffy old forsaken prison cell. Therefore, this was nice for a short change.

He sat around in the darkness for a while—was he dead? Is he still? Alternatively, was he just stuck in between—dead, yet alive?

Then a flash of a bright light came inside the darkness, and a heavenly figure stood before him.

Long, aqua hair flowed down to her waist, gently swaying in the non-existent air.

Light blue-green eyes…

The angel widened, fully recognizing this person—it was this female who was in his dreams the last time.

It was strange—when he woke up from that dream for the first time, why did his thoughts never mention her once? Why was that he unable to remember her when he was conscious, but was able to when he is unconscious?

“Taemin…” Her voice was soft like a dove’s feather as she bent down to his eye level.

He felt her hand on his cheek—it was soft and warm, like a mother’s hand. However, his vision of her was still blurry; he was unable to see her face clearly.

“You need to save all of us. Yes, both Demons and Angels. They don’t know it, but we all need your help, Taemin.”

Help, she says. What kind of help do they need from him?

“What do you mean? Why are you telling me this?” He spoke out, his eyebrows furrowing at the female.

“You’re different. You are unique and stand out from the Angels. You love the speed. You have bits of patience. You are nothing like them. Yet, you are the first to have his powers still sleeping even at this age and time. I have found that you may be the one to help us.

“Demons and Angels weren’t always like this. They were friends, rivals, family—all of these before the rule came to be. Because of an unfortunate incident, they were driven by their past and turn their relationship into hatred.”

Taemin was confused at her words. What made them be like this in first place? What drives them mad that they even neglect the feeling of love?

“What does this mean? What is this unfortunate incident? Who are you? Why are you telling me this?” He wanted to ask her more. Especially about why his body sealed his powers, or why someone sealed away his powers.

The woman shook her head, her long hair going along with the movement, flowing like water as she began to speak, “I do not have time to answer all of these questions. We shall meet again, Taemin. Until then, I will answer. For now, you must find out by yourself.

“You must find out about your friends and family’s past. That will be your first task.”

Taemin felt her hand moving away from his cheek as she stood up, her white gown swaying.

“Wait! Please don’t go yet—I want to know!” Taemin cried out as she began to turn. He clumsily stood up from his sitting pose and took a step forward. She was so close, yet so far…

He reached out as he ran to her, hoping to take hold of her arm.

“Please! Wait!” He called out, his hand getting closer to her skin.

“Stop!” He screamed out and just as he was about to grab her, all had gone black.

Taemin awoke from his sleep, his eyes wide as he looked around, identifying where he was.

Still stuck in the prison cell, he assumed.

He let out a thwarted sigh and stretched his arms out, including his wings, letting out a gasp of bliss when his muscles had popped, his joints getting back into place.

Then he realized something—he did not feel any pain.

How strange. He thought as he poked onto his chest and stomach. He felt nothing but his fingers poking against his skin. Then he stretched his wings—both of his wings felt perfectly fine.

“Huh…?” He was confused and began racking his brain—he remembers that Joon had been kicking him around and was strangling him by the throat. He had stomped on one of his wings as well.

Then he was alone.

Aside from that and him crying afterwards, nothing else came to mind.

“I could have sworn there was something else that happened to me…” He mumbled as he stared at the withered grass. Then he remembered about the rose Minho gave him when he was away. His head snapped to his white boots and to his relief, he saw that bright orange-red rose, still glowing its flame and never dying. He crawled over to it and gently held the rose into his hand. He touched the petals—they remained soft as ever.

He smiled as he thought of Minho’s gentleness despite being a Demon.

“I see you like the rose, huh?”

Taemin yelped, and accidentally gripped onto the stem, thus pricking his fingers on the thorns. He shrieked, throwing the rose after feeling the sting on his hand.

“Ah…geez…” He mumbled as he held his left hand, staring at blood that was just beginning to pool on his fingers. There was one, two, three--five, six, seven—ten pricks on his upper palm, lower thumb and the tips of his middle and index fingers.

Then he felt his wrist being gripped and was directed to the demon behind the bars.

“Aish, I told you to be careful with the thorns, now look at you. What shall I do with you, kiddie angel?” Minho said with a smirk, in which the angel pouted.

“It’s not my fault! You were the one who scared me with your deep voice!” He protested and tried to pull his wrist back but the grip was too strong.

“Nngh, let go!”

“No,” His voice was so demanding that all of the sudden, he stopped struggling, becoming obedient.

What…? Why can I not move? What happened to me?

Taemin looked to see his eyes serious yet calm, and he could have sworn that he saw a swirl of orange-red in his irises.

“Let me help, okay?” He whispered as he held his hand to his lips. Taemin did not say anything but just sat there and watched as Minho pressed his lips against his fingers.

The angel jolted a bit when he felt his tongue lapping over his skin, up the blood. Taemin stared at the demon that has his eyes closed as he moaned a bit in pleasure, seeing his pink tongue take in the blood.

It was gross, having one’s saliva all over your hand, but at the same time, it was soothing.

He was surprised to see that the stinging pain was no longer, yet Minho was still his fingers. Then he jolted again, when he felt his index finger brush against his fangs.

So sharp…they are like needles… He thought as he then looked at him. Minho opened his eyes and the latter could see his orange-red eyes glistening with delight and lust.

He pulled back from his hand and his lips before rubbing his hand with his thumb, making sure the angel did not feel any excess pain.

Taemin did not, as Minho could see no flinching from the angel.

He smiled and let go of his hand and said, “There, at least you’d feel no pain.”

“Yeah… thank for giving me your saliva. Gross,” mumbled Taemin as he wiped his hand on his shirt. The demon could not help but laugh at his words. The angel ignored his laughter and picked up the rose, setting it back into his boots.

“Oh, yeah, I fought off Daehyun trying to get the papers from you. Here you go.” He simply said, handing them to the male, who was surprised to see that he had returned his papers.

“Y-You did? Why, thank you,” He said softly, a small smile playing on his lips. Then he began to block out his voice as he then started to remember how his face looked when he was up the blood from his hand—he looked pained rather than in pleasure, as if he hadn’t taken any in centuries.

“…Are we friends, Minho?” He asked him unexpectedly, shocking the demon.

“Friends? I wouldn’t say that,” he mumbled as he played with the silver chain on his wrist. Taemin peeked at it, and saw the words.

Inferno.

“Plus, the rule says—”

“The rule, Minho-hyung, doesn’t say that we cannot be friends. It says that we are forbidden to fall in love with any other being from a different side apart from you, but does it say anything about friendship?” Taemin spoke out seriously, his eyebrows rising as he stared the dark-haired male.

Minho smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, “Ah, I see what you did there.”

The younger angel grinned and shrugged, “Well, someone has to point that out.”

The demon chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, I guess we’re friends.”

They smiled at each other before Minho held out a set of clothes through the bars, shoving it into Taemin’s lap.

Taemin picked them up and inspected it—they were one for a Demon, and the colors represented a Demon.

“What are these?” He asked, looking up at the male who was already by the door.

“Clothes. You are changing into them. Grab your daggers and boots.” He simply said. Taemin huffed and went over to his boots and checked that his daggers were still inside before taking out the rose and resting it onto the mattress. Then he stood up, walking over to the door where the demon on the other side was pretty much staring at the lock.

“…What are you doing?”

“Unlocking the door, what else?” Again, he simply told him, and even though he was surprised to hear the click, he was a bit frustrated. Then he gasped when he felt him grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the cell, the angel clutching onto the clothes and his white leather boots.

“W-What are we doing? Yah, Minho-hyung! Where are we going?” He cried out as the dark-haired Demon dragged him out of the basement.

Minho stopped and turned to him with a smile. He opened his mouth and said this:

“Training.”