Demons did much more than just feed on souls. Some lived among humans, others never left the underworld. And some made pacts.

A pact was a blood tie between a demon and a human. A sacred oath that they would be mates, tied together forever. It was the closest demons got to love, to having souls. Some demons were too far gone to make such a bond. Min craved that connection, he craved you. You had been his saving grace when he was human.

Min could still remember what it felt like. Slowly dying of leprosy, starving in the streets. But then you found him. You nursed him so the end of his life was as pain-free as possible. But you got sick. You got so awfully sick from the town's contaminated water. The leprosy may have left him blind, but Min had been able to feel how thin you became from vomiting. And then one night, you insisted on brushing back his hair to kiss his ruined face. And he felt you go still.

Gwi-Ma had made him a deal, promising to reincarnate the soul of his love. You were born exactly one year after the deal, and you had a birthmark on your arm that matched Min's patterns perfectly.

At first you thought a stray dog was roaming around your house. You swore you'd heard growling when a man had stopped to talk to you outside, pitiful scratching late at night from something wanted let in. But now you knew it had just been Min.

He truly seemed more dog than demon sometimes. He'd admitted himself that his fangs were thicker and longer than the other guys'. He'd curl up in your lap while you stroked his back. Sometimes he let you rub his head, as long as you didn't pull his hair away from his eyes.

One night, you were cuddling Min while reading a book. He was as silent as ever. You used to try and ask about who the two of you used to be before you were reborn in this life, but you'd stopped after seeing how reluctant he was to talk.

Then, out of the blue, Min mumbled, "You used to sing to me."