Fate 90

“My job is… to sever it.” White light pooled between Yeon’s index finger and thumb, flickering before vanishing as he pressed them together. “The ill fate that binds you, Mr. Kang Dohyuk.” Yeon, a shaman from the spiritual organization Muryeong, had come to cut the threads of misfortune tangled around Kang Dohyuk. “What are you hiding?”“Nothing, ugh!” Dohyuk yanked Yeon’s hair tighter, dragging a sharp gasp from his throat. Pain twisted Yeon’s features, but his eyes—locked on Dohyuk—never wavered. Why did those eyes irritate him so much? Was it their unusual color? Or that maddening calm, like nothing Dohyuk did could touch him? Whatever it was, Dohyuk hated it. “Did you know me before this?” “Mr. Kang Dohyuk and I…” Yeon’s words came slowly. If he died, Kang Dohyuk would die too. He couldn’t let it end here. “…are bound by a red thread of fate. And at the end of this thread…” Yeon paused, fingers closing around the crimson strand floating in the empty air. “…there is only blood. Blood as red as the thread itself.” True lovers are bound by both red and blue threads woven together. But between Kang Dohyuk and Yeon, there was no blue thread. Only red, wound tight around them both.