The Flowers That Bloomed on the Apricot Tree Do Not Fall
The night of the new moon was so dark that even the moonlight was faint.
Since ancient times, the night of the new moon had been regarded as an omen of misfortune.
In her childhood, her grandfather would say that on moonless nights, unholy things roamed more freely, and he would lock the front gate with even greater care than usual.
The unholy things her grandfather spoke of were the wretched humans who committed crimes under the cover of darkness. But for Yeo-won, the meaning was slightly different.
To her, unholy things referred to something invisible to ordinary people.
On the night of the new moon, those things appeared more clearly and in greater numbers.
Not only on the streets, but in alleys, courtyards, and even in the rice paddies and fields. Wherever her eyes landed, they were everywhere.
Their bodies grew larger too, making their grotesque forms even more visible. There had been more than a few times she nearly fainted at the sight.
If Yeo-won were asked to choose the day she hated most out of the entire year, she would pick this one without hesitation.
And this year’s new moon was an especially dark night.
Even the sliver of moonlight was swallowed by clouds, plunging the world into such complete darkness that she could not see even an inch ahead.
Mount Inwol, untouched by artificial light, was submerged in utter blackness.
In that perfect darkness where even the beasts held their breath, an alien sound echoed.
A sticky, slurping noise like someone sucking on candy, interrupted by labored gasps.
Normally it would have been drowned out by the wind or the chirping of insects, but tonight, as if spitefully, not a single breeze stirred.
Yet the animals on the mountain acted as though they could not hear it at all. They flattened their ears and closed their eyes.
The reason was simple: the source of the sound was Myoilgung—more precisely, Siniljeon, Shin-wol’s private quarters.
“Hah… haa.”
The sound of a breath that had been held back carried a trace of heat.
Between lips parted to draw air, a thick tongue pushed in once more.
“Mmm.”
As if refusing to allow any rest, the invading tongue coiled around hers with forceful insistence.
Saliva she hadn’t managed to swallow trickled from the corner of her mouth.
It was not a kiss that could be called gentle even as empty flattery. Her breath caught in her throat.
She tried to push against his shoulders, but the massive body did not budge.
Instead, he seized her hands, completely immobilizing her.
Because of the coercive kiss, tears welled in Yeo-won’s eyes. Only after those tears slid down her cheeks did the tongue that had filled her mouth slowly withdraw.
“Haa…”
Yeo-won gasped, mouth opening and closing as she fought for air. She pulled her captured hand free and covered her lips. If she didn’t, his tongue would invade again, driving her to the limit just as before.
Between her fingers, her saliva-slicked lips twitched.
Watching her, Shin-wol gave a languid smile.
There was no hint of sympathy or pity in his voice.
On the contrary, the tone sounded almost pleased. Yeo-won’s brows furrowed ever so slightly.
If he knew, he could at least move away.
But he clearly had no intention of doing so. Yeo-won lacked the strength to scold him and could only nod weakly in response.
While Shin-wol wore a bewitching smile, Yeo-won shook her head with an expression that suggested the world was ending.
“…This should be enough. Anything more is too much for me.”
Her voice was hoarse, as if the claim of exhaustion was no lie.
It was only natural. The longer their skinship continued, the more spiritual energy he drained from her, leaving her fatigued far more quickly than usual.
On top of that, the strange, thick scent filling the room made her head feel foggy.
Fearing she would lose consciousness the moment she let her guard down, Yeo-won squeezed her eyes shut and open again, desperately trying to hold onto her fading mind.
Whether aware of her efforts or not, Shin-wol paid them no mind. He continued pressing kisses to her eyes and cheeks while murmuring in a low voice.
“Wait… stop…”
When Yeo-won squirmed faintly and pushed at his shoulder, his eyes narrowed for a moment.
Shin-wol slowly lowered his head until cool breath brushed against the nape of her neck.
“Ah!”
A sharp sting bloomed where his breath had touched.
She felt along her neck and found scattered, round bite marks.
He must have bitten quite hard; the spot throbbed painfully.
“It hurts.”
Even when she tried to protest, Shin-wol ignored her completely and swept his tongue over the bite marks.
“Hng…!”
The hot, wet sensation sent shivers racing down her spine.
His voice was lower than usual. Yeo-won’s body flinched. Perhaps because her vision was blocked, her senses felt sharper than normal.
The low, quiet baritone seemed to caress her ear. She bit her lip hard to keep from being seduced by the enchanting voice that drained all strength from her body.
Shin-wol gripped her chin and pressed firmly. A thick finger slid between her parted lips and stroked her tongue.
His tone was gentle, yet his actions were anything but.
The clouds parted, and faint moonlight spilled through the wide-open window.
Normally the light would have been too dim to notice. But to Yeo-won, who had been steeped in darkness for so long, it felt blindingly bright, like a single ray of salvation.
In the darkness, Shin-wol’s profile gradually emerged.
He was a man of sculptural beauty with pale, translucent skin. With an appearance so perfect it seemed to have stepped out of a painting, he smiled with a beauty so exquisite it was almost chilling, urging her on.
“Hng.”
The fingers that had rudely rummaged inside her mouth withdrew. He laughed seductively and brought the wet digits to his own lips, licking them clean.
“…Lord Shin-wol.”
“Lord Shin-wol.”
Shin-wol gently stroked the bite marks on her neck.
Seeing the red imprints on her slender white throat, the corners of his mouth curved upward in satisfaction.
Right before her eyes, beastly golden irises glowed with fierce light. Those jewel-like, transparent eyes were brighter than moonlight, yet they carried a terrible darkness.
Shin-wol. A name that suited him horribly well.
The aura and oppressive presence he emanated could not be called sacred by any stretch of the imagination.
If this man—with his beauty that could topple nations and the arrogance to match—was not an ill omen, then what was?
An ordinary person like herself could never handle him, even if it cost her life.
Once again, Yeo-won’s mouth was forced open by a brutal grip.
It was not a request for reassurance, but a coercive declaration that he would have it whether she gave it or not. Yeo-won closed her eyes in exhaustion.