Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(109)

He took off a bit too fast, Changwan’s shout of alarm trailing behind them.

Somin chuckled with Miyoung.

The girls had formed what could only be called a friendship over the past weeks. Somin had a lot of questions, some of which Miyoung hadn’t answered yet, partly because she couldn’t. Somin wanted to know the weirdest things, like how come gumiho eat food when they only need gi to survive. Or why gumiho are solitary creatures when they’d be so much stronger in a pack.

Once, Miyoung had caught Somin staring at her.

“What?” Miyoung asked.

“I think you’ll age well,” Somin mused. “You have the bone structure for it. I guess we’ll get to find out now.”

It had caused the girls to break out into laughter.

Oddly enough, Miyoung liked Somin’s blunt curiosity. In a way, it made her think of her gumiho state differently. Not as a monster, but as another being trying to figure out how to exist in the world.

“You look tired,” Somin said.

“Gee, thanks.” Miyoung laughed, but she worried about So-min’s sharp eyes. “I’m fine, just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Somin nodded and let it go. She knew Miyoung still had bad dreams about the night her mother died.

“Do you really not want a turn on the bike? It’s kind of fun.” Somin grinned and it pulled an answering smile from Miyoung.

“Maybe when Jihoon gets here.”

Somin rolled her eyes. “Good luck, that boy is worse than Changwan with hand-eye coordination.”

“Heads up!” Junu called as they rode by Somin, a bit too close for comfort.



“Ya!” she shouted, taking off after them.

Miyoung was laughing at the sight when someone clamped their hands over her eyes. “Guess who.”

She grabbed Jihoon’s wrists and pulled until he was hugging her from behind.

“What are you doing?” Jihoon whispered in her ear.

“Nothing,” Miyoung replied, releasing him so he could walk around the bench. “Talking to the sun.”

“What does it say?” He sat and swung an arm around her shoulders.

“Nothing much. Just hello.”

“Not very talkative, huh?”

“It doesn’t need to be,” Miyoung said. “The sun and I have a good relationship.” She set her head against his shoulder. Her own personal sun, plucked out of the sky.

“You finally got to come to the Han River. Is it everything you thought it would be?” he asked. “Full of magic and unicorns?”

Miyoung snorted out a laugh. “Unicorns don’t exist.”

“I’ve learned never to discount the existence of anything.” Jihoon winked. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Miyoung grinned as she glanced toward their friends. Somin was yelling curses as Junu chased her on the bike.

“It’s definitely nothing like I imagined,” she mused.

“And?”

“It’s perfect.” She smiled as the sound of laughter lifted in the air around her.

She linked her hand with Jihoon’s.

She didn’t know how long she had in this world. A hundred days, a hundred months, or a hundred years.

In this moment, as she watched her friends and held on to Jihoon, she was happy. And she would keep finding her happiness in each moment, until she had no more moments to spend.





EPILOGUE





THE FOREST WAS dark despite the full moon. The branches now held so much foliage that it created a barrier between the earth and sky. The moonlight no longer hurt her, but still, Miyoung was grateful for the protection.

She’d avoided the woods after losing her mother. But she’d missed her safe haven. The memories this place held were both comfort and pain. And now, as she picked her way over twisting roots and through reaching branches, she breathed in deeply. The scent of dirt and wood calmed her nerves.

She loosened her grip on the flowers she carried. She didn’t want to break their delicate stems. Was it useless to bring such a token? Yena had hated flowers; she said they made a mess when they died. But her mother couldn’t voice her disapproval of such a gift. Not anymore.

Miyoung swiped at her eyes, stinging with tears.

As she approached the maehwa tree that commemorated her mother, she blinked, wondering if her tear-filled vision was playing tricks on her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. But it was still there. A dark X burned into the tree, still smoking from the ugly brand.

“Miyoung-ah.”

She whipped around at the whisper. It had sounded so close, like someone spoke into her ear.

The forest behind her was empty. The shadows of tree branches twisting ominously.

“You are not free.”

She spun toward the maehwa tree and stepped back in surprise. The branches reached out, like sharp wooden hands. Grasping at her. She tried to run, but her feet sank into the ground. Roots rose to twist around her legs. Squeezing so hard they cut off her circulation.

The branches took her into their cruel embrace. They bit into her arms. Rough bark rubbing at her skin.

It’s a dream, Miyoung told herself. This isn’t real. You have to wake up.

She tried to push free, but the branches held tight. She tried to kick, but her feet were encased in dirt and roots.