Chapter 79 || BOUND AND TORN BY PROPHECIES

 

 The Breaking Spell

 

Jungkook could feel it again—the dizzy pull of exhaustion, of hunger, of something unnatural dragging his body like lead through cold stone corridors. The maids holding his arms whispered in low Neravan, never meeting his eyes. He stumbled once. One of them yanked him upright by the hair.

He didn’t cry out.

 

The chamber they dragged him to was different from the others. Older. Carved into the earth, lit by torches that hissed blue instead of gold. The air was thick with incense and something fouler—rotted flowers, burnt bones. A ritual circle pulsed in the centre, drawn in blood and ink. Sigils crawled across the stone like they were alive.

 

Iravelle stood near the circle’s edge in a gown of smoke and crystal. Her smile was painted in victory.

 

Jungkook swayed, barely upright. But his eyes—though rimmed with shadows and pain—still burned with defiance.

 

“You can starve me,” he rasped, voice thin. “But you can’t hollow me out.”

 

Iravelle crouched beside him, tilting his chin with two fingers.

 

“Ah, but I don’t want to hollow you. I want to replace you.”

 

She stood and turned to the witch overseeing the ritual.

 

“Begin. Today, the bond should shatter.”

 

Far away, in the fire-lit spires of the dragon palace, Taehyung staggered mid-step.

 

He had been walking toward the war council chamber, answering yet another barrage of questions and strategies. It’s been days since he burned those snakes’ palace down. He searched for Jungkook everywhere but ended up empty-handed. He is discussing possible places they can keep Jungkook—when he froze.

 

His dragon senses exploded. A sharp, searing pain ripped through his chest, not physical, not visible—his pain. His bond to Jungkook, thin and fraying these past days, flared for one terrible instant with the agony of being drained.

 

He dropped to one knee. King Caelum and Queen Luria rushed to his side. The king stood frozen as fire poured from Taehyung’s back in violent arcs, burning everything near him.

 

“Taehyung!” Mili shouted in his head. “What is it? What did you feel?!”

 

“She’s still alive,” he breathed. “They’re trying to rip her out of me.”

 

And then came the scream—not his voice, but his soul. Distant. Ghostly. A vision tore into his mind. Jungkook in a circle of blood. Pale. Swaying. And Iravelle’s voice saying—

 

“He’ll never find us. This place cannot be seen, broken, or reached. Not even by him.”

 

Taehyung roared, but it was not rage—it was grief, it was soul-deep panic. The sound cracked the stone walls.

He reached for the fire again. For his magic. For his thread. But it was slipping.

 

Yoongi and Nyla rode the sky in silence, flying under Niki’s cloaking illusion. Mili flew behind them with Spark, guiding the strike team. The Neravan palace rose beneath them like a black crown on the mountain’s edge, its once-glittering towers now fractured from the prince’s first rampage.

 

They didn’t wait for diplomacy. They burned through the gate. Guards scattered. Alarms screamed. But the dragons were quicker, meaner. Nyla turned to smoke and flame. Yoongi leapt from the saddle midair, landing like a dagger in the heart of the courtyard.

 

“Find. Any clue, anything that can be helpful to locate him,” he barked.

 

The team split up.

Room after room. Blood. Smoke. Echoes. Nothing.

 

Then—the chamber. His chamber. The one from the vision. They stormed inside. And found—nothing. Not a single trace. Just the ring of runes scraped clean. The scent of dragon energy long faded.

 

“He was here,” Nyla whispered. “But they moved him. They knew.”

 

Yoongi slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering it.

 

“We were too late.”

 

But as the glass cracked, for just a heartbeat, the reflection showed something else—another realm shimmering behind the shards, where time bled differently and nothing could be tracked.

 

“They’ve hidden him... in another fold of reality,” Nyla said softly.

 

“And we’ll find it,” Yoongi growled. “No matter what it takes,” he swore under his breath.

 

"We should go back. We need to tell him everything. Before it’s too late. Again."

 

Meanwhile, in the dark below Nerava, the spell began to hum. Iravelle raised her hands to the blood-lit ceiling.

 

“You were the heart of his storm,” she murmured again. “Let’s see what he becomes... when the storm dies. He will be broken and powerless. Then I will be there for him and his kingdom.”

 

Jungkook swayed. His body was failing. But in his mind, he clung onto one thread.

Him.

He would not let them take that.

Even if he had to burn his own soul to keep it.

 

Back in the dragon capital, the palace was under strain. Fires blazed and then froze, spells burst and collapsed. And in the deepest chamber, Taehyung lay still.

 

He had collapsed hours earlier, and no healer dared approach him. His skin glowed too bright, cracked with veins of gold and shadow. His dragon half was twisting, thrashing within him. He had not eaten, spoken, or breathed properly since Jungkook vanished from his reach.

 

Mili curled near him, weak and shivering. Her scales were dimmed, her energy erratic.

 

When Yoongi and Nyla returned, it was Nyla who first sensed the bond’s torment. She staggered forward, clutching her chest.

 

"He's in too much pain. I feel it. Through Jungkook’s bond with me, my shared link with him is just of guardian... but this... this is something deeper."

 

Mili replied in her head. "He's unravelling. He’s not just his guardian. He’s his anchor. His choice. His mate."

 

Yoongi knelt beside Taehyung. "We found traces. They’ve hidden him in a realm outside ours. He’s alive—but fading."

 

Nyla placed both hands over Taehyung’s chest. A soft glow passed between them. She gasped.

 

"He's trying to keep the bond alive, but it’s burning him from the inside. He’s feeding it everything he has. If he keeps this up... he won’t survive."

 

Mili whimpered. "And I can’t feel him properly anymore. I’m his soul dragon. If I can’t connect... it means he’s somewhere we don’t belong."

 

Taehyung’s eyes snapped open.

The room shook.

He sat up, coughing violently, blood staining his lips. Nyla tried to steady him, but he growled low.

 

"I saw him. I felt him. Surrounded by magic. Runes of separation. They’re breaking us."

 

Yoongi nodded. "Then we need to find the realm. We’ll call in more mages. Use royal magic—"

 

"No," Taehyung said hoarsely. "No mage can help. Not with this."

 

He turned, stumbling toward the black altar at the chamber’s centre. Nyla’s eyes widened.

 

"You’re not—Taehyung, that ritual is forbidden. That’s the Void Gate. No dragon has used it in centuries."

 

"Because the price is too high," said the Queen, who had followed silently. "You’ll be cursed."

 

Taehyung placed his hand over the ancient sigil. Flames burst to life, spiralling up his arm.

 

"Let them curse me," he whispered. "Let the gods smite me. I don’t care."

 

He looked up, eyes burning gold.

 

"He is mine. And no dimension, no curse, no death will keep him from me."

 

Mili cried softly. Nyla bit her lip to stop herself from begging.

Yoongi stood behind him, voice steady.

 

"Then we’re coming with you. You’re not strong enough to face them alone."

 

Taehyung didn’t object.

They would go with him.

And together, they would defy realms.

Even if it meant damnation.

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