Page 66 of King Foretold (Realm of Four Kingdoms #2)

Draco doesn’t have much longer, and neither do I. Daeseong is no longer amused. The blow from the sword of light wounded him, but I don’t know how quickly he will recover. I have to say goodbye to the kid before I lose the chance.

“You’ll feel better when you wake up.” A sob hitches in my throat.

“Liar.” Draco pauses as a cough quakes through them, blood spurting from their mouth. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“You are many things—like a smart aleck and a thorn in my side—but stupid isn’t one of them.” I force myself to grin even as tears rain down my cheeks. “You are also brave, strong, and kind. And as much as it pains me to admit it, you are funny as hell.”

“You have your moments, too, I guess.” Their weak chuckle gurgles in their throat, but their expression turns earnest. “Sunny, I know I give you a hard time, but you know that ... you know I ...”

“I know, kid.” I cup their cheek with my hand. “I love you too.”

“I was going to say I don’t totally hate you. Not all the time, at least.” Their breath rattles in their chest. “But you do you.”

“Brat.” My laugh turns into a sob. “I’m so sorry, Draco.”

“It’s not your fault, Sunny.” Their hand flutters at their chest, and I clasp it in mine. “But you owe me now. If you die, then I would’ve died for nothing.”

“You’re not going to die,” I choke out.

“Are we seriously doing this again?” Their body jerks and spasms on the ground. I hold tighter to their hand, like I could keep them with me if I hold on tight enough.

“Th ... thank you for saving my life, kid.” I rock back and forth, cradling their hand against my chest. “I will save the fucking worlds for you. I swear it.”

“I know you will, but promise me you won’t die doing it,” Draco says fervently. “Promise me you won’t die, Sunny.”

The night stirs around me. I swivel my head to glance over my shoulder. Daeseong is recovering. Slowly, he gathers the darkness into a tower of black violence above him.

I look down at the kid. I can’t ... I can’t leave their side. I shoot another panicked glance behind me. I have to be by their side when they go ...

“I ... I promise.” I bite my trembling lip and ruffle their hair. “Do you need me to pinky promise?”

“Shut up and keep your word. And when you save the worlds, you better give me some of the credit.” They turn their gaze to the brightening sky. “Hey, Dad. Did you miss me?”

“D ... Draco?” I’m shaking so hard that my teeth chatter.

“Don’t be sad, Sunny. I didn’t have to be alone anymore because of you. Thank you for being my family.” Their eyes slide closed, a faint smile playing around their lips. “Now, go kick ass.”

And they’re . . . gone.

I swallow my scream. Daeseong may delight in watching my pain and suffering, but he will not witness my grief. My love for Draco, and the grief born out of it, is for them and them alone. I will not share a shred of it with the dark mudang.

Think, Sunny.

I glance over my shoulder to find Daeseong getting to his feet, massaging his wrist as though it feels a bit stiff.

Is that all?

That’s all the sword of light did to him when I cut the dark spear in half? It took him a while to recover, but he looks as good as new.

That can’t be right. No way did a flesh wound hold him off all this time.

Think.

From his agonized scream, I knew I wounded Daeseong, but I didn’t know how or how much. I didn’t care beyond the fact that I had bought myself time to say goodbye to the kid.

Draco.

I bite the insides of my cheeks. I will grieve them like they deserve once I kill the dark mudang.

Think, Sunny.

That wasn’t a flesh wound. I must have ... Did I cut the dark mudang’s hand clean off? That has to be it. He must be massaging his wrist because he’s getting accustomed to the feel of a new appendage.

Fuck yeah.

Daeseong is vulnerable to the sword of light. Its blade reaches beyond his skin and cuts into his essence. And it took him real time to heal—not mere seconds but minutes . That’s why he didn’t attack sooner. Because he couldn’t .

The sword of light makes Daeseong as killable as me—not easy, but also not impossible. That is the power of the sword forged from sacrifice and hope.

Thank you, Samshin Halmeom. Thank you, Draco.

Now, I just have to wound him badly enough and quickly enough to kill him before he can heal himself.

I lean down and press a quick kiss on the kid’s forehead. They’re still warm, and it hurts so much that I claw at my chest, my nails breaking skin. I don’t want to leave their side, but I have to do as they asked. I have to go kick ass.

I rise to my feet and stalk toward Daeseong, drawing an infinity sign in the air with the sword of light.

Think, Sunny.

I realize I was wrong. The sword might look like my hwando, but it does not feel the same.

It’s lighter in weight, but it takes more force to swing it, like the blade is cutting the molecules in the air, not just moving through it.

With slow, deliberate movements, I familiarize myself with the weight and feel of the sword of light.

“You have the Gwangdo.” The dark mudang watches me with sharp interest.

“We haven’t named it yet.” I offer him a vicious smile, shoving down my trepidation. “But the Amheuk Killer has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Daeseong doesn’t answer. I guess he’s done playing for the night.

He gathers the darkness into his hands and raises his arms to attack.

But I don’t give him the fucking privilege.

With light-blurring speed, I leap into the air and come down on him, slicing my sword in a long horizontal line across his chest. I hear the hiss of burning skin even before the dark mudang stumbles back.

“This is certainly ... interesting,” he grunts, staring at the gaping gash in his chest. “I wasn’t expecting a challenge.”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “I still don’t see a challenge here.”

I twist and spin, slashing the sword nonstop, encouraged by the black smoke seeping out of his wounds. He lashes out with bruising blows that slow me down, but I don’t stop the onslaught of attacks. Not until my lungs burn and my limbs shake from fatigue.

At last, I leap back and admire my handwork with my head cocked to the side. The dark mudang looks like Frankenstein’s monster before his creator stitched him together—a veritable patchwork of flapping, slashed skin. And black smoke oozes out of the gashes like dark blood.

“Cease,” he booms and reaches out a dark tentacle to grab my sword arm.

I scream in pain as the darkness singes me to my bones. But I don’t drop my sword. I’ve been told I have a stubborn streak. With a twist, I spin the hilt of the sword in my hand to switch to an underhanded grip and slash upward at the darkness wrapped around my arm.

The tentacle snaps back against Daeseong like a contracting rubber band, and he staggers on his feet. Baring his teeth in feral anger, he spreads his fingers toward me.

My breath catches in my throat as four shadowy arrows pierce me across my chest and shoulders, one buried in each end of my collarbone and the other two at the junctions where my shoulders meet my arms. My head spins, and I fall to my knees, stabbing my sword into the ground to stop myself from collapsing.

I feel the darkness suctioning my life—my light—out of me again, but this time it absorbs my gi through the blood pooling at my wounds. The Yeoiju is not a little pearl I could pluck out of me and hand over. Its magic lives in my very blood. The bastard is trying to absorb my very being.

I roar with fury. I swipe my sword across the row of dark arrows and scream in pain. Daeseong screams as well and stumbles to one knee, cradling his fingers against his chest.

I grab the broken end of a shaft and whimper as agony sears my palm. I grit my teeth and pull out an arrow. Cold sweat beads on my forehead and drenches my back, but I rip the rest of the arrows out in quick succession.

Blood soaks through the front of my tank top, making the fabric cling to my chest. My wounds are slow to heal as well, but I can’t make myself care. Draco. I stagger to my feet and rush toward the patchwork mudang, the sword of light thrust forward.

“Enough,” Daeseong says with eerie calm before the night is cloaked black. His voice worms into my mind again as the darkness surrounds me. “I have had enough of you, gumiho.”

I tighten my grip on the hilt of my sword before I’m fully trapped. I will fight this. Draco did not die for nothing. Even so, despair seeps into my soul as darkness surrounds me. The only way I know how to fight this is to unleash my Yeoiju—to become the light. But I promised them I wouldn’t die.

I’ll try, Draco.

I summon the white light to my hand. My life force swirls inside me in a flurry of activity as though it’s preparing to pour out of me at the first opportunity.

I hold my gi in check and allow only a trickle to feed the light.

The darkness will absorb the light if it’s too small, but the Yeoiju will drain me if it grows too large.

You are not alone.

Why do I keep thinking that? I already know. No matter how alone I sometimes feel, Ethan and my friends will always have my back. They love me as I love them. So why?

“Are you trying that trick again, little fox?” Daeseong’s voice slithers through my mind, cold and oily. “There is no need for you to die, you know. Just give me the Yeoiju. Let me absorb it from you ... little by little. If you stop resisting, I can take the power from you without killing you.”

I focus my bleary gaze on him as his lie worms its way into my mind.

The Yeoiju has been nothing but a burden to me.

If I didn’t have the Yeoiju, my mother wouldn’t have died protecting me.

I never would have run from my home. I never would have lived without roots, alone and scared .

.. always so scared. It ruined everything, and it could ruin everything again.