You had mastered everything.

Your movements were no longer clumsy, no longer human. You flowed like shadow, hit like lightning, and glowed with an ancient magic that made even older demons step aside when you passed. And Jaeshin—your Jaeshin—watched you with quiet reverence.

And something else.

Hunger.

But this time, the game had changed.

Today, the test was not yours.

It was his.

The ancient rite was simple in rule but brutal in execution. “The Flame Trial.” A final challenge issued not to the fledgling, but the mentor. He would be watched. Judged. Tempted.

He was not to touch you. Not to react. Not to flinch. For hours, locked in your training hall—along with other couples facing the same trial.

You arrived first. Draped in silks too sheer for battle, skin kissed with soft perfume that clung to your every step. Your hair fell in waves, your eyes smoldered with mischief.

You wanted to see him break.

And gods, Jaeshin hated it.

He stood in the center of the room, arms folded, jaw clenched. He hadn’t even looked at you yet.

Good. That meant it was working.

The other females were already giggling, circling their demon lovers like cats toying with meat. Light touches. Soft moans. Strategic stretches that showed just enough. You joined them with ease, laughing when one of the demons—sweating, red-faced—almost reached out before yanking his hand back.

“Yours is shaking,” one of the women whispered to you, hiding her grin.

You turned slowly.

And yes—Jaeshin’s hands, which were usually still as stone, now twitched at his sides. His throat flexed. His eyes, dark and heavy, stayed fixed on the wall behind you.

So you sauntered forward, slowly.

“Jaeshin,” you purred, stopping just within reach. “You’re quiet today. Nervous?”

He didn’t answer.

You leaned in closer, your breath brushing his jaw. “Or is it hard for you, watching me like this? Knowing you can’t have me?”

Still, no answer.

You dragged one finger down his chest—barely a graze, no contact. Just heat. You felt him tremble. Just slightly. Almost imperceptible.

But you saw it.

All around you, the air shimmered with tension. Demons grinding their teeth. Claws digging into thighs. Females laughing and teasing like queens. Like you. But none of them had a partner like Jaeshin.

He was discipline incarnate.

Unmoved.

Unshaken.

But then you whispered, voice like silk:

“Touch me, and I’m yours.”

He snapped his eyes to you.

Dark. Blazing. Wild.

And for a moment, you thought he would lose. That he would grab you by the waist, pull you into him, and burn the world down for just one taste.

But instead, he leaned in—lips grazing your ear—and whispered low and dangerous:

“I don’t need to fail this trial to own you.”

You shivered.

Then he pulled back. Cold again. Untouched.

And you smiled—because even without touching, Jaeshin always, always, won.