Ji-an
The air was cool, the night settling over the river with a deceptive calm. I stretched my arms, breathing in deep, grateful for the fresh air after hours of rehearsals, press, and the show itself.
Min-ji and Hye-won stood beside me, chatting quietly. Jisoo had opted to stay inside, too tired to enjoy the break. A few meters away, Han Si-woo and two of his men kept a watchful distance. Their posture was relaxed, but I knew better—Si-woo was never off duty.
I didn't notice at first when the radio clipped to his vest crackled with Logan's voice—then cut to silence.
Si-woo did.
His head snapped toward the device, brow furrowing.
He tapped it once. Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
"Jin, Lee, check the frequency," he ordered, his voice calm but firm.
The two security officers immediately reached for their radios. One shook his head. "It's out. All of them."
That was when the unease set in.
Something was wrong.
I turned toward Si-woo. "What's—"
A noise.
A whisper of movement in the dark.
And then—
Shadows.
A group of figures emerged from the brushes just beyond the river overlook.
Ten men.
No signs. No noise. Just movement.
Si-woo immediately stepped forward, placing himself between us and them. His men did the same.
One of the figures stepped into the moonlight.
He was tall, thin, his face pale and stretched tight over sharp cheekbones. His eyes gleamed with something that sent a chill up my spine.
Devotion.
"We've come to take her," he said, voice eerily calm. "She must be purified."
Si-woo's stance shifted. I had seen him fight before, seen the way he assessed threats. He was already calculating, already deciding how to break these men down.
"You picked the wrong night," he said. "Turn around. Walk away."
One of the fanatics—because that's what they were, I realized—laughed softly. "You don't understand," he murmured. "This isn't a fight. This is destiny."
Then he moved.
It happened fast.
Si-woo lunged first, striking before the man could fully advance. His fist cracked against the fanatic's jaw, sending him staggering. The man crumpled, but before his body even hit the ground, the others surged forward.
The fight erupted in an instant.
Si-woo's men engaged immediately. One lunged at an attacker, sending him and another man to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The other swung, landing a solid punch before a second fanatic grabbed him from behind, yanking him into a chokehold.
Si-woo was a force.
He moved fast, precise. A strike to the ribs. A knee to the chest. A vicious elbow to the temple that sent another attacker sprawling.
But there were too many.
One of them slipped past.
I felt hands grab my arm—cold, unshaking, reverent.
"Come with us," the man whispered, his grip tightening. "Let us save you."
I yanked back, heart slamming against my ribs, but before I could scream, Si-woo was there.
He caught the man by the wrist and twisted.
There was a sickening crack.
The fanatic screamed, dropping to his knees, clutching his broken wrist.
Si-woo didn't hesitate. He turned, driving his foot into the man's chest, sending him sprawling.
I gasped, breath ragged.
Min-ji was clutching my hand, eyes wide. Hye-won was frozen in place.
But it wasn't over.
A blade flashed.
One of the fanatics rushed Si-woo from behind.
I shouted, but Si-woo spun just in time, catching the attacker's wrist mid-swing.
Then another came at him.
Si-woo let go of the first man, pivoting, landing a brutal punch across the second man's face.
But the first attacker recovered too fast.
The knife struck.
It sliced across Si-woo's side.
He barely reacted.
Didn't even flinch.
But I saw the way his muscles tensed.
The way his body slowed.
The fanatics knew it too.
They pressed in.
Si-woo fought harder. He landed another blow, then another, but his breathing had changed—just slightly.
One of the fanatics grinned. "Even you can't stop fate," he whispered.
Then three of them attacked him at once.
Si-woo staggered.
His knees buckled.
Another strike.
Then another.
A grunt of pain—low, sharp.
And then—
Si-woo went down hard.
He stumbled, his hand clamping against his side, fingers pressing against the growing stain of blood on his shirt. His two guards were already on the ground, unmoving.
And then it was just us.
Me. Min-ji. Hye-won.
Surrounded.
Five men still standing.
They closed in, slow, deliberate, like they had all the time in the world.
Min-ji grabbed my arm. Hye-won's breathing went shallow.
I held my ground, forcing my body to stay still. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of fear.
One of them—a gaunt, sharp-featured man—stepped forward. His eyes gleamed in the dim light, wide and feverish.
"You don't understand," he murmured, almost reverently. "We're not here to hurt you."
The knife in his hand told a different story.
"You're sacred," another one whispered, his voice hushed with awe. "You were meant for more than this."
"We've come to save you," the first one continued, taking another step. "The world is corrupt, but you… You are still pure."
My stomach twisted.
I had dealt with obsessive fans before. People who cried, who begged, who thought they knew me.
This was different.
This wasn't admiration.
This was worship.
"You were never meant to be paraded around like this," another added. His eyes flickered to Min-ji and Hye-won. "They're distractions. The unworthy."
Min-ji inhaled sharply. I felt her fingers tighten on my wrist.
"You think you're safe," one of them murmured. "That these people can protect you."
His head tilted toward Si-woo, who was still struggling to breathe.
"But they don't understand. They don't know what you are."
I clenched my jaw. "And what exactly am I?"
They smiled.
All of them.
It sent a chill straight through me.
"The Virgin Priestess," the first man whispered. "Untouched. Pure. The world has tainted everything else. But you… You can still be saved."
I took a slow breath. "And how exactly do you plan to 'save' me?"
His grip tightened on the knife.
"By making sure no one else ever touches you."
A gunshot tore through the night.
The man closest to me jerked violently, his body snapping backward before he crumpled to the ground.
The others froze.
Then—
A figure crashed into them, a force of nature in black tactical gear.
A fist connected with a jaw. A body hit the pavement. Someone screamed.
And then—
Then I saw him.
Logan.
And he was hell itself.
***
Logan
I didn't think.
I just moved.
The first shot rang out, cutting through the night like a blade. The man closest to Ji-an jerked violently and crumpled, but I was already shifting, already calculating the angles. The rest were too close to my charges—too close for another shot.
I flipped on the safety, holstered the gun, and sprinted.
The second guy barely had time to register me before my fist met his jaw with enough force to shatter something. He hit the ground hard, unconscious before he even landed. I was already pivoting, stepping into the next strike.
The third man turned too late.
I caught him mid-motion, my elbow driving into his throat. His eyes bulged, and I wrenched his arm so hard something snapped. He screamed. I threw him to the pavement.
The fourth guy came at me with a knife.
I caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted—bone ground against bone—then drove my palm into his throat. He gasped, crumpling. I ripped the knife from his grip and slammed the handle against his temple.
Four down.
One left.
He hesitated.
I didn't.
I closed the distance before he could blink, launching a flying knee straight into his face. The impact sent him sprawling. I landed over him, my knee pressing into his throat.
His breath hitched. His hands clawed at my wrist.
"Did you think," I growled, voice low and lethal, "that I was going to let you touch them?"
He gagged, scrambling against my grip. His eyes burned with something fanatical, something completely untethered from reality.
"Blasphemy," he wheezed. "How dare you impede our holy cause? When the Virgin Priestess awakens her power, you will be punished."
I cut him off with a punch to the face.
He gasped, blood spurting from his nose.
"You think you're a savior?" I murmured. "You think you're righteous?"
His wild eyes darted to the others, sprawled and broken across the pavement. He tried to speak, but I squeezed just a little harder, just enough to make him panic.
"Listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice calm, quiet. "You make sure your whole group understands. If you or any of your Brotherhood comes near her again I will find every last one of you and kill you."
His eyes bluged He nodded frantically, choking.
I punched him in the face and let go.
He slumped, gasping, but I was already standing, already scanning. My pulse was still a sharp, controlled rhythm—violence simmering just beneath the surface.
The girls were still there.
Still standing.
Ji-an was staring at me.
Wide-eyed.
Like she wasn't sure whether to be horrified or—
Or something else.
But before I could process that, I turned to Si-woo.
He was down.
His hand was pressed against his side, his fingers slick with blood. He was conscious and was struggling to stay upright.
I crouched next to him.
"You're bleeding," I said flatly.
Si-woo exhaled sharply. "No shit."
I pulled a strip of cloth from my vest, pressing it against his wound. "How bad?"
He let out a slow, controlled breath. "Bad enough."
"You going to make it?"
Si-woo smirked, despite the pain. "Would hate to leave you alone with them." He nodded toward me, Min-ji, and Hye-won.
I snorted. "That'd be real tragic."
I tied off the bandage, studying him. He wasn't going to die. Not tonight. But he wasn't walking out of here on his own.
I clicked on my radio.
"Carter, what the hell is happening out there?"
I pressed the button. "Situation's contained, we need to lock this shit down" I said evenly. "Get a team to the river overlook. Now. We have men down."
Static. Then, "Copy that."
I clipped the radio back onto my vest, then turned to the others to bodyguardds.
I check them. Thank goodness, they weren't in immeidate danger. Both were knockout they would need to checked at the hosptial.
I exhaled, finally turning to Ji-an.
She was still staring.
I stepped closer.
Her breath hitched.
"Ji-an," I said quietly.
She swallowed.
Then, finally, she whispered, "You came."
I didn't blink. Didn't hesitate.
"Always."