The sky was different here.

Jungkook knew it the moment he stepped past the veil separating realms, the surge of energy crackling over his skin like embers before fading into something softer—something unfamiliar. The Human Realm was quieter than he expected, filled with delicate sounds—the rustle of wind through towering trees, the distant hum of voices carried by the night. And above it all, the Blood Moon loomed, pulsing in slow, rhythmic waves, ancient and undeniable.

It was calling to him.

For years, he had ignored the pull, dismissed the legends that whispered of fate deciding who would rule alongside him. Yet now, as the Blood Moon bled across the heavens, its glow settling into something more purposeful, Jungkook felt his chest tighten. His mate—his equal—was here.

He took his first breath of the Human Realm, and the weight of centuries pressed against him. Then the world shifted.

A sensation—sharp and precise—rippled through his spine, dragging his gaze forward. The Blood Moon had marked its path, painting streaks of crimson light through the streets below, guiding him through winding roads and scattered bodies that knew nothing of the force moving in their midst. They didn’t see him, didn’t sense the quiet command woven into his presence, but he walked with certainty. He followed the path the moon laid before him, weaving through spaces unfamiliar yet strangely welcoming.

Then he saw her.

She was standing beneath the moon’s glow, bathed in its intensity, as if it had chosen her long before he had even arrived. His pulse was steady, controlled, but something in his being strained forward, recognizing what should have been impossible. She was human, fragile by every definition he had ever known—and yet the Blood Moon had placed her at the end of his path.

The moment stretched between them.

Jungkook wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t meant to step into this realm, to search for something beyond his throne. But none of that mattered anymore.

Because for the first time in his life, he understood the stories his mother told—the ones about longing, about choice, about what it meant to truly find someone.

And now, he had found her.