“The punishment for betrayal is death.”

Book of Dawn, 1123, K.J.

(8)

                  Kim Jongin straightened his blazer and patted his blue car endearingly. In this world of mistrust, his car was the only thing he genuinely loved. Elder Junjin was already waiting for him by the front door, looking fancy with his designer-tailored suit. He was the most ambitious man between the Elders, and it showed in everything he did and owned.

                  “Well?” Junjin was expecting at least a bow or a simple greeting from the younger boy, especially when he came so late in the afternoon with just a phone call to let him know. But Kim Jongin didn’t have time for that, nor was he raised by that old man to bow to anyone other than his Lady.

                  “Well what?” Jongin spat. “Open the door and let’s have a nice, civil talk while I’m being nice and pleasant. Or we can always go to plan B and let me destroy the door with my foot,” He raised his left foot in a kicking motion, “Or better yet, I can just bring the whole mansion down. Which sounds better to you?”

                  Junjin scowled and opened the door. Jongin was definitely in a foul mood, and even as his Elder, Junjin wouldn’t want to get on his bad side at the moment. This child was a frightening one, charging madly without boundaries. He’d seen it once, and he wouldn’t wish to see it again.

                  “Master Jongin,” the servants chorused, but Junjin waved them all away. He directed the younger boy to his private chamber and told the head butler to serve some light snack and tea after thirty minutes. Jongin sat on the chair opposite of him, his cold stares held a hint of malice and madness that sent shivers down his spine.

                  “What are you here for, Jongin? Do you have anything interesting that I should hear?”

                  Jongin scowled, the frown on his handsome face deepened, “I should be asking you the same question, Uncle. Do you have something to tell me?”

                  Junjin raised his eyebrow and snickered. The young man knew no manner and dared to barge into his house asking random questions as the night was approaching. He wasn’t about to entertain Jongin just because he could. “What kind of reply do I owe you, Kim Jongin? Why should I tell you everything that I do?”

                  “You’re right, Uncle,” Jongin chuckled lightly and rose from his seat. The Elder thought that the boy was heading home, but in no more than two steps, Jongin had reached onto his neck and slammed him onto the table. He could feel the bone in his head cracked by the sound of it. And when Jongin saw the wet, red liquid coming out from Junjin’s hair, he merely chuckled and leaned in closer to appreciate it. It was quite a sight to see Jongin so angry because he rarely ever did. And when he really did, he went insane.

                  “Yesterday afternoon, at 6pm outside of our house, a man tried to kidnap Sena and ended up assaulting her in the dark alley,” Jongin blurted out the detail and pressed Junjin harder onto the table. He whimpered pitifully and raised his hands in surrender. “Did you do that, Uncle?”

                  “N… No,” Junjin stuttered and stared into Jongin’s dark orbs and the tattoo on his collarbone. It was small and unnoticeable, but it was a Latin word for hell ‘infernum’. That was what Jongin was; hell on earth, waiting to be unleashed from the chain. “I don’t know who did it, I really don’t.”

                  He cracked a wide grin and dug onto the skin deeper so that it bled slightly. “Is there anything you do not know of in this clan? Even if you didn’t do it, someone with a higher power must’ve done it. Now tell me, Uncle, who is it that you’re working for? Is it the Byakko? Is it Byun Baekhyun and his pathetic clan?”

                  Jongin loosened up a little because Junjin was choking from lack of oxygen. Anymore and he would die in less than seconds. He let go of his neck and stepped back to give Junjin room to breathe and recover. The younger man ignorantly whistled and sat down again while the Elder had a terrible coughing fit.

                  “Well?” Jongin had a mocking grin, which frightened Junjin more. At times, he morphed into a different person. Everything about Jongin was extreme, and he would never understand what kind of mental training the former Yoon leader must have put him into. Unlike Oh Sehun, Jongin never really got over his childhood, and this fearsome personality stayed and changed him for the worst.

                  “It’s not Byakko, or Suzakku, or Genbu, but I can’t tell you specifically who I’m answering to,” Junjin touched his injured head and halted when he saw blood. For goodness sake, he was over seventy and extremely fragile, but Jongin didn’t seem to give a damn about it. “You’d have to kill me first and even then, you still won’t find out who he is.”

                  Jongin’s sarcastic grin had changed into a sweet, sickening smile as he absorbed the information into his head. One, it was a ‘he’, and two, this higher being must have immense power and he was someone from the clan. But who else could have that much power over the Elders aside from Sena herself? Unless Grandfather was still alive, and the thought itself was absolutely ridiculous, so Jongin discarded it immediately.

                  “Uncle,” Jongin called out and stood up. The Elder unconsciously stepped back and shielded himself with his hands. “Why would I kill you? Aren’t you the only brother my mother has left? Don’t be so scared of me. What would I do if you’re scared of me, Uncle?”

                  Oh, but he already was. Slowly, Junjin lowered his arms and waited for Jongin to speak. It was better to keep quiet until Jongin got better. He was usually more obedient and agreeable, but today was one of the rare days that he threw fit over the safety of his Lady. Jongin stood in the same spot for a long time, before he grabbed the blazer by the chair, and only then, could Junjin breathe out in relief after holding it for a long time.

                  “Uncle?”

                  He stiffened.

                  “Tell whoever it is that you are working for: If he dares to touch a single hair strand on Sena’s body, I will make sure to pay him double for it.”

                  Kim Jongin walked out of the door without so much as a goodbye. Junjin barely remembered that before the car accident happened, his nephew was a sweet, naïve boy who lived in his own perfect world. It all came tumbling down when the Grandfather, a former leader of the Yoon family, picked Jongin up under his care. Until today, he wasn’t sure whether they had trained him to perfection, or wreck his humanity completely.

                  Jongin started the engine and sped up through the busy road. Even as a child, Jongin loved things that were real; touchable, reachable. His life had been an illusion, so he hated himself for being so pathetic. Most importantly, he hated Yoon Sena for casting misfortune over his childhood. But today was different.

                  That spoilt brat of a Princess broke out in front of him and threw a fit. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, but then she cried, and the moment he touched those glistening liquid that streamed down her flushed cheeks, something inside him just snapped. She was real, too. She was very much real, and he didn’t know why it took him so long to wake up and saw this fragile human being he was forced to call ‘Lady’.

                  She wasn’t a carbon copy of her Grandfather. Upon that realization, Jongin laughed. And laughed. He blasted ‘Welcome to Hell’ loudly throughout his entire ride home, because in his damned opinion, Jongin was beyond salvation.

(9)

                  It was hard to live like this, though if I complained to anyone, I would sound like I was bragging when I actually wasn’t. What kind of eighteen year-old faced through attempted murders and business-trading on a daily basis? I didn’t want that – at least not the murder part. Early in the morning, I woke up and contemplated over the complexity of my abnormal life. I never got the answer until I was forced to shower at 6.45am in the morning.

                  In the hallway, I saw Luhan with his tied-up apple hair. He put his arms around my waist as he usually would, and ruffled my hair lovingly. In his arms, I felt the safest and warm. I was glad I brought him all the way from Singapore. Both of us skipped down the stairs and went to the dining room.

                  “You actually put on orange lipstick today,” Luhan rubbed the corner of my lips with his thumb. “Pretty, but I like to see pink on you. It makes you look more innocent.” His eyes were sad as his hand graced my cheeks gently. Both of us knew better than to be innocent in this kind of family, so we couldn’t help but miss the absence of it.

                  “It’s actually coral color, but whatever you say,” I dismissed it easily. Luhan dragged me to a detour so we would have to take the long walk to the dining room. He must have had something on his mind because he looked quite distraught after our conversation last night.

                  “You know, I have been thinking about your engagement with Joonmyun.”

                  I halted my steps as we both stopped in an empty hallway. It was unsettling whenever Luhan got serious because he rarely did. He put his arms around me so I couldn’t run away from his embrace. We were inches apart, and I could see how long and beautiful his lashes were, and how his eyes were now filled with unfathomable darkness.

                  “I don’t like it at all.”

                  And here came his unpredictable mood swings. Even as a child, Luhan would suddenly become very possessive around the guys I hanged out with – not that there were many of them. He never did like Joonmyun because that guy was a total flirt – and a real hot babe – but he couldn’t do anything about it. He was one of the only two to know how close I was with Joonmyun, the other one being Jongin after our trip to Singapore.

                  “Luhan-ge, we’ve talked about this plenty of times before. This isn’t about me, or you, or Joonmyun, it concerns two clans and an unspoken alliance,” I raised my hand to caress his smooth, flawless cheeks. God, his skin was so nice. He frowned and grabbed my hand tightly, but I continued to graze my thumb over it.

                  “It doesn’t have to be an engagement, does it? I mean, the two of you are friends, surely there will be other ways to do it,” His voice was filled with pain and even I felt hurt by the rawness of his emotion. Jongin was right. Perhaps Luhan did expect a little more than a sisterly figure from me. “I… don’t want to lose you to him.”    

                  It wasn’t a confession, but the way he looked at me was a confirmation. We looked at each other without a word, and Luhan leaned in a little, his other hand gently tugged my neck upwards so that our lips would touch. It was so, so close. So close that our noses were touching.

                  “Luhan,” I spoke unsteadily and he stopped.

                  “You know how I feel about you, Mei. You’ve known it for a long time!” Luhan hugged me and buried his face on my shoulder. I could feel his insecurity as he poured out his feelings. It wasn’t what I had expected, and pity rose to my throat, barely giving me a room to think. “Please just let me stay by your side. That’s all I’m asking for.”

                  Just… that? Before I knew it, Luhan had stolen a kiss from me. It wasn’t that I hated it. Nor would I freak out because it wasn’t my first or second. It just lacked the kind of emotion I wished I would have. In my life, I had not known love, only lust, fear or hatred. Trust or kill; accept or reject. It was as simple as that.

                  “Don’t reject me. Don’t you dare!” He whispered to my ear in a mixture of desperate need and longing. I grabbed him by the hair before I placed a kiss on his cheek. It wasn’t a rejection, but it wasn’t exactly an acceptance either. It was somewhere in-between, a place I had selfishly put him in.

                  “I’m late for school,” I escaped from his embrace as he spaced out in the hallway alone. My heart nearly skipped a beat as I finally arrived in the dining room, where the rest of the Elites were, waiting. Jongin sat on his usual chair, not paying much attention to me when I asked him for a sauce bottle. He just handed it, slyly leaning forward as his lips graced my ear and whispered in his low-tone morning voice, “Your lipstick is smudge on the edge. What kind of naughty things have you done in the morning, Princess?”