Chapter Eight
Iris

Jungkook dreamt that he was in a dark room. An altar in front of him, a flat wall was etched with the names of every name of every deceased Wolves and Lamias. The inscriptions ran in panels that covered every inch of the surface, save for an unmarked stretch in the middle. This smooth portion was about six feet wide and ran the whole vertical of the marble expanse.

The air smelled so very familiar; damp earth and winter breeze.

“Konstantin.”

He turned to the female voice.

The Goddess Artemis stood in the far corner, her black robes hovering above the floor.

Jungkook bowed his head low. “Goddess.”

“Raise your head, son of Mikros.”

Jungkook inclined his head, his expression deadpanned, and hate dancing in his eyes.

“How fare you?”

“My heart bleeds.”

“And you have been busy, have you not? Continuing to set new precedents, as is your affection.” She laughed with an edge.

Jungkook gripped his fists tight, his knuckles turning white. He chose his next words very carefully, “I would beg you that you do not get in the way of avenging my mate.”

Her voice grew hard. “You are perilously demanding, child.”

.

That low, soft chuckle came again.

Man, he bet she was enjoying the hell out of this.

“How long have your memories returned?” The robes moved as if she were shaking her head.

“When I met her,” Jungkook said sharply. “But they didn't fully return until—”

When I learned everything. He wanted to say, but instead, he bit out, “Why?” His eyes drifted over to the divine being. “Why did you stop me?” From saving her.

“If I didn’t stop you, you would have murdered a whole pack and started another war as your father did.” The Goddess murmured.

Jungkook jerked, convinced he hadn’t heard right.

“There is a reason why I forbid you from claiming your mate from any of your past lives. It is the same reason why I stole your memories away.” She said in an impossibly gentle tone. “She bears the curse your kind carries, she will die, someday. And you know that.”

Jungkook’s heart dropped. “Don’t,” he whispered, but his voice was so small, coming from a far distant place. He started to feel what he had felt all those lifetimes, each time his mate died and reincarnated. Vomit rose in his being, but nothing came out. He forced himself to breathe through the painful memory. “I would ask that you save her. I’m willing to strike a bargain as you did with my father.”

The Goddess turned away from him. Then she walked over to the marble, taking a slow turn around the room.

He had no idea what she was thinking. Or whether she was even considering what he’d requested.

“And what would you give me?” She said as she read his mind. “I already own you.”

Jungkook lifted his eyes to her, not caring what she saw in them: hatred, pain, the urge to lash out.

His voice trembled. “You truly hate me.”

A mild electric shock when through him, and he realized the Goddess had touched him on the shoulder. “You know that’s not true, my child. I loved you and raised you like my own.” She murmured. “Fortunate for you, in a way, I will heal her from her illness. But I won’t stop the curse.”

A death chill went through him, stealing his breath.

“Sacrifice is what got your mother out of death’s door. Perhaps this is what will save your mate.” The Goddess said. “From what Konstantin has done to millions of innocent lives eons ago, what I require is something or someone priceless to you.”

Moon, he thought. A part of him revolted. No. She would not be in the hands of this Goddess like he had suffered.

He would find another way. He would protect her with his life.

✱✱✱✱

Jungkook walked into the King’s study and closed the double doors behind himself. All of them were there, and no one was talking, unease permeated the room.

The king came forward from behind the desk, looking as rigid as Taehyung had. His stare was piercing, something felt, though not seen.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook stared up at him, unmoving. His expression was hard.

“We don’t have to do this.” The King says.

“Of course, we do,” Jungkook smirked, his eyes cold. “It’s either this or Konstantin runs around.”

Jiyong nodded once. “Here is the pronouncement, then. It is determined that the Kingdom of Lethe, Rafa’s Terrain, and the Void Isles will not put an end to or get involved in your pursuit of punishing the culprits on behalf of your mate.” He paused. “Jungkook, I’ll be honest with you, this self-torture and mutilation of yourself are not needed.”

“You know where that leads.”

“There should be another way.”

“I wake up and the first thing I feel is bloodlust.” Jungkook spat, a scowl on his face. “It’s either Konstantin or me. You choose.”

“Well, it is decided then,” Jiyong said tightly.

“It has to be each one of you,” Jungkook said looking around the council.

There was a collective groan in the room. Someone muttered, “.”

“As you wish, brother.” Yoongi nods at him.

“But—“Jungkook hardened his voice—“No one gets involve may they be a wolf, lamia, or mortal.”

“That was the agreement. As much as we would love to be in on the fun and kill those bastards for what they did to Moon and her sister. It is your right as her protector.” Eunwoo said.

Jiyong looked around, then back to Jungkook. “What is the weapon you choose?”

“The whip,” Jungkook said in a low voice.

There were more mutters.

“So be it,” The King said.

“What about Konstantin?” Youngbae asked, concerned. “It can come out when he’s in pain.”

“The whip is made of celestial bronze. It’s the only thing that keeps them at bay.” Jiyong told him.

“Good. Let’s get it over with.” Jungkook said.

Seunghyun was the first to leave as the group got to their feet and worked out logistics in quiet tones. Taehyung announced he’d bring the weapon. Yoongi offered his car to take them all down together.

“I have a request,” Jungkook said.

They all stopped talking, stopped moving. He looked at each one, noting the grim casts on their faces, They hated this, and he understood perfectly.

“Don’t bring Moon here when this happens again in the future or any time. I don’t want her to see me weak.”

Yoongi spoke up. “We can lay low and stay in Onslaught. Taehyung and I will take care of you.”

Jungkook smirked. “Don’t make me blush.”

Yoongi clapped him on the shoulder and then left. Sehun followed, doing the same. Taehyung gave him a hug as he passed by.

Jiyong paused on his way out.

When the king remained silent, Jungkook gave him a nod. “I know. I’d feel the same way if I were you, but I can take it.”

Jiyong reached and took Jungkook’s face into his palms, tilting it down. He kissed Jungkook’s head and held the contact between them, a pledge of respect from the King.

“I’m proud of you, Jungkook,” Jiyong said softly.

About fifteen minutes later, they reconvened in the courtyard by Yoongi’s SUV.

Everyone was silent as Yoongi drove them behind the palace and into the mountain’s thick beard of pines and hemlocks.

They could have materialized to their destination, but none of them offered to. Wanting to lay it out just in case Jungkook changed his mind.

As they rode along, Jungkook couldn’t stand the silence. “Oh, for ’s sake. You’re not going to kill me. Could we lighten up a little?”

No one would look at him.

“Yoongi put on some Bigbang or Eminem. All this quiet is boring.”

Eunwoo’s laugh came out on the right. “Only you could try to turn this into a party.

“Well, , you’ve all wanted to nail me a good one for some I’ve popped, right? This is your lucky day.” He clapped Sehun on the shoulder. “I mean, come on, I’ve ridden you for decades about the no females. And Youngbae, I provoked you until you stabbed a wall. Yoongi, just the other day you threatened to clobber me when I forced you to see a vision.”

Yoongi chuckled darkly. “I did it for you and your mate. It was not a sight I would want to see again.”

Jungkook’s face hardened, his knuckles turning white. The remainder of the ride was silent.

Soon enough, Yoongi parked in a small clearing. They got out and stood around, listening, looking, and sensing.

All things considered, it was a nice evening, and this was a serene place to be. The breeze winding its way through the countless branches and trunks of the forest carried a pleasing smell of earth and pine. Overhead, a fat moon glowed through milky clouds.

When the King gave the signal, they walked a hundred yards over to a cave set into the mountain. The place looked absolutely nothing special, even when you walked inside. You had to know what you were looking for to find the little seam in the wall in the back. If triggered correctly, a slab of stone slid open.

As they filled inside the cave’s inner belly, the wedge of rock closed behind them with a whisper. Torches mounted on the walls flickered gold as their flames breathed into the air, puffing, and hissing.

The walk into the earth was a slow, easy descent on a rock floor that was clod beneath the feet. When they got to the bottom, a pair of cast-iron doors opened. The hall ahead was about fifty feet long and twenty feet high and covered with shelves.

At the end of the hall, there was another set of double doors. These were already open.

Lethe’s sanctum sanctorum had been carved out of bedrock and veneered in black marble back from Old Lethe’s ancient architecture. The room was good-sized and had a ceiling of white stalactites that hung like daggers.

This place was an old worship to the Gods, now used by the council in punishment of the sinful.

Down in front was a raised platform, accessed by a series of shallow steps.

As soon as they ascended the platform, Taehyung put down his duffel, ped it, and took out the celestial whip. The two-foot-long handle was made of celestial bronze steel and covered with brown leather that had been darkened by the sweat of many hands. Out of the rod’s tip, three lengths of blackened steel chain swung in the air. At the end of each of them was a spiked dangler, like a pinecone with barns.

The celestial whip was an ancient, vicious weapon, but Jungkook had chosen wisely.

Each strike will bear the pain that Moon had experienced. He would inflict it on himself. A thousand times more.

Jungkook went forward, waist up, chest bare, and gleaming with strength. Positioning himself against the black marble, he gripped the stone pegs and felt cold smoothness on his back.

The council lined up in front of him, their bodies gleaming with strength, their faces are drawn. Jiyong took the whip from Taehyung and came forward first. As he moved, the weapon’s links chimed with the sweetness of a bird’s call.

“Jungkook,” The king said softly.

Jungkook stared up into Jiyong’s eyes as he started swinging the whip in a wide circle to build momentum. A droning sound started low and crescendoed until the weapon came forward, slicing through the air. The chain hits Jungkook’s chest and then the barbs clawed into him, sapping his strength, and grabbing the air out of his lungs. He kept his head up while his vision dimmed and then returned.

Eunwoo was next, his blow knocking the wind out of Jungkook so that his knees sagged before they accepted his weight again. Seunghyun, Sehun, and Youngbae followed.

Each time, he met the pained eyes of the council, but as Yoongi turned away, Jungkook could no longer support his head and caught sight of the blood running down his chest, over his legs, and onto his feet. A pool was forming on the floor, reflecting the light of the candles, and staring at the red mess made him woozy.

For her.

When there was a lull, he became dimly aware of some kind of argument. He blinked several times before his eyes were clear enough to see.

Yoongi was holding out the whip to Taehyung and Taehyung was backing away from the thing in what seemed like terror. Taehyung’s fisted hands were held up high as he breathed far too heavily.

Yoongi spoke gently and tried to take Taehyung’s arm. Taehyung was closing in on full panics, like a cornered animal.

Jungkook took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried again.

“Tae.” His reedy voice brought all eyes to him. “Finish it. I need this. This is my punishment for not protecting her.”

“No—“

Sehun cut Taehyung off. “You have to—“

“No! Get the away from me.”

Taehyung bolted for the door, but Eunwoo got there first, forcing him to spin out to a stop so he didn’t run over him. Trapped in front of the Lycan God, Akim, his legs trembled and his shoulders shook. Eunwoo reels the Lycan in him in the back of his mind and speaks to Taehyung quietly, the words not carrying far enough for Jungkook to decipher through his haze of pain.

Finally, Eunwoo motioned to Yoongi, who brought the weapon over to him. When he had it reached out, took Taehyung’s hand, and placed the leather-bound grip on his palm. Eunwoo nods his head at him and Taehyung dropped his head. A moment later he came up front with a lurching stride.

When Jungkook looked at his best friend, he almost suggested someone else do the deed for Taehyung. Those black eyes were cracked open so wide, there was white all around the irises. And Taehyung kept swallowing, his throat working like it was keeping a scream down in his chest.

“It’s okay, Tae,” Jungkook murmured weakly. “I need this.”

Taehyung panted and swayed, sweat rolling into his eyes and down his face.

“Do it.”

“Brother,” Taehyung whispered, lifting the whip over his shoulder.

He didn’t swing it for momentum, probably couldn’t have coordinated his arm that well at this point. But he was strong, and the weapon sang as it traveled through the air. The chains and danglers streaked across Jungkook’s stomach in a blaze of needles.

Jungkook’s knees gave out and he tried to catch himself with his arms, only to find that they refused to hold him. He fell to his knees, palms landing in his own blood.

He took long breaths, determined not to pass out.

Not enough