“You’re saying, you want to meet her?” Krystal slammed her fist onto her older brother’s wooden table, eyes boring into the Crown Prince’s emerald orbs. “You don’t know what kind of threat she might possess!”

The Crown Prince simply rolled his eyes, a frown set on his lips as he dismissed his sister’s remarks. If anyone were to look at him now, no one would even be able to predict that this person before their eyes, had their days numbered.

You see, that’s the thing about this sickness. It’s impact and signs are different to each individual. Some might fall extremely ill before they pass on, while others would feel perfectly fine before they get cloudy dark visions, and simply, drop dead.

But one thing’s for sure, everyone, would have the black marks. The black marks look like tattoos, but they didn’t have any definite shape. They were just simple, jet black lines, like the stripes on a white Bengal tiger. Prominent, no specific thickness – but they did though, appear near areas which isn’t exposed to the world if properly covered; with long sleeves and long pants that is.

Krystal pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes when her brother simply crossed his legs and flipped one of the books the people in the palace managed to salvage from the fire that broke out from the infamous lab. Out of frustration and without warning, the blonde reached out harshly towards her brother’s left chest and abrasively pulled his tunic.  The exertion made the top tree buttons pop out, revealing her brother’s porcelain white skin – marred with ebony lines of thick and thin.

Her brother froze for a moment, before glaring and locking his gaze with Krystal.

“Look at the marks, Luhan.” She spat. “If these – things ­– keep appearing, you’ll die in any moment.”

Krystal’s grip around the fabric tightened as she pulled her brother forward; neither of them tearing away the gaze they have for each other. “If her father is able to release something this hazardous, imagine what she can do.”

Luhan didn’t wait for a second longer to grab hold of his sister’s wrist, strong enough for her to release her hold on his tunic. He got off his seat and threw her hand away, “You don’t have to tell me what to do. Remember where you stand, Krystal.”

Krystal swallowed dryly and looked away, rubbing her wrist to wipe the redness away. It wasn’t that she didn’t have respect for Luhan, she didn’t want to lose him; knowing that her cousin from another kingdom would be next in line and not her. Not that she was interested in the throne per se, but she’d rather the kingdom be under their family rather than their distant relatives’.

“Where is she,” Luhan asked – ripping his tunic off and tossing it onto the ground. And Krystal’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of his back, where there were 3 more of those simplistic but lethal inky lines. She came forward without answering to his question, her lips setting into a frown as she kept her gaze trained on the lines that reached from his right shoulder, and stopping to just above his left hip.

“She’s in the second guestroom.” She