Chapter 70 || BOUND AND TORN BY PROPHECIES

 

Pawn in Their Game

 

The laughter and chatter from the breakfast still rang in Jungkook’s ears long after he’d excused himself. His steps echoed softly against the polished stone as he moved down the palace hallways, his head held high — but his heartbeat betrayed him.

Beneath the calm expression was a storm.

 

The princesses’ giggles. Their light fingers brushing against Taehyung.

And then… Vaelora’s deliberate words — “When the marking ritual is performed…”

They had carved fresh lines of anxiety across his chest.

He didn’t even remember how he left that room without screaming.

 

As he turned a corner, the corridor widened, opening to a quiet inner courtyard framed by arched stonework and latticed marble screens. Light filtered through ivy, casting dancing shadows along the floor.

He might have kept walking — if not for the faint, clipped voices seeping through the carved screen ahead.

 

He paused. His breath hitched.

 

Behind the screen stood Vaelora. Her silky voice curled through the slats like a serpent. A council elder stood beside her — his tone more practical, colder. And another woman — a high-ranking guest Jungkook didn’t recognize, though the faint golden crest on her robes suggested she held power in the high courts.

 

“We’re running out of time,” the elder muttered. “The people grow restless. They want clarity. If the crown prince doesn’t name you as his mate—”

 

“He will,” Vaelora said smoothly. “He must.”

 

“And if he doesn’t?” the woman asked.

Vaelora’s tone was sweetly poisonous.

“Then we make sure that he decides the way we want.”

 

A pause.

 

“And the boy? The human guardian?”

 

Jungkook leaned in just a little more, fists tightening at his sides.

 

Vaelora laughed softly.

“If the prince refuses to choose me, we’ll make him choose me. Even if we have to use the human boy to provoke his instincts. I can see he feels something for him. I told someone to make sure he burns with jealousy. He’s already stressed. Just one last strike… and he’ll let her die without any second thought. Then I’ll make him realize no one else is perfect to continue his bloodline like I am. I just need to contact him and make sure he did what I told him to.”

 

Jungkook’s hand flew to his chest.

 

His throat tightened.

 

He was a pawn.

 

They were using him — not for his strength, not for his mind, not even for his bond with Mili — but to manipulate a prince’s heart.

A heart they saw as little more than a prize to conquer.

 

His legs trembled, but he backed away without a sound.

One step. Another.

Until the whispers faded, and his breath came fast and shallow.

 

He didn’t remember the walk.

 

He only knew he had to go somewhere safe.

Somewhere real.

 

He pushed open the dragon nursery doors and stepped inside, letting the quiet warmth and the soft huffs of breath from baby dragons surround him.

 

Mili looked up immediately. Her long lashes blinked slowly.

Without hesitation, she padded forward and nuzzled into Jungkook’s side.

 

He collapsed to his knees, arms wrapping around Mili’s warm neck.

His voice cracked as he whispered:

 

“I’m not just a boy caught in love anymore. I’m a pawn in their game.”

 

Spark and Niki crept closer, sensing his mood. The chamber shimmered softly with dragon light — as if even the youngest could feel the unease rippling through his soul.

 

After some time, the tension in his chest loosened just enough for him to move.

He wiped his eyes, whispered a soft thank-you to the dragons, and made his way slowly back toward his chambers.

 

He was nearly there when footsteps echoed behind him.

 

“Jungkook!”

 

He turned.

Nyla and Yoongi were rushing toward him — both visibly alarmed.

 

Nyla reached him first, eyes scanning Jungkook’s pale face.

“What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Yoongi didn’t speak, but his jaw was clenched tight.

 

Jungkook swallowed. And then — quietly, numbly — he told them.

 

The balcony.

The voices.

Vaelora’s plan.

 

By the time he finished, Nyla’s expression had gone grave.

 

“It’s worse than you think,” she said darkly. “There are forces at play here that even Taehyung doesn’t fully trust. A lot of things are going on in the palace. I noticed some things as well and asked Taehyung about them. He said… he’ll explain everything once he’s sure of what’s going on. Just some more time, and it will be perfect — better than ever.”

 

She looked him in the eyes.

“We just need to stick together. Keep an eye on everyone.”

 

Jungkook stared at her.

“So we can’t trust anyone in the palace?”

 

Nyla didn’t answer.

 

She simply wrapped her arm around Jungkook’s shoulder.

 

Elsewhere, in the grand hall:

 

Taehyung stood near the central fountain, speaking with two war generals and a visiting dignitary. He had just accepted a formal scroll when he suddenly stilled.

 

The scroll slipped from his fingers.

 

He clutched his chest — breath tightening.

 

But it wasn’t pain.

 

It was rage.

 

Something inside the bond snapped.

Not like a thread tearing — but like a flare igniting.

 

His voice was a whisper laced with heat, unheard by the others:

 

“What made him cry again?”

 

Around him, the air shimmered.

The temperature rose subtly.

The dignitary stepped back, eyeing him nervously.

 

Taehyung’s eyes glowed faintly as he turned away without another word.

 

He was moving.

 

The flame was awake. 

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