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The card still sat on the counter—its wax seal cracked, the words inside sharp like thorns.
Hyme hadn't touched his food since.
San watched him closely from across the table, unsure whether to speak. The usual confident glint in Hyme's eyes had vanished, replaced by a stormy silence. His tail was stiff. His ears twitched, but not in amusement—only agitation.
"I had a lot of siblings," Hyme murmured, voice low, like he was reaching through fog. "Most of them never made it past childhood. That's how hybrid bloodlines work—especially ones like mine."
He looked up at San, golden eyes distant.
"My father… he's not just a businessman. He's royalty. One of the old bloodlines—the type that ruled before hybrids agreed to coexist with humans. They were obsessed with blood purity. Power. Legacy."
San leaned in, listening.
Hyme continued, "My father had dozens of children. Most were born from arranged pairings—pureblood hybrids like him. But me? I was the mistake. My mother was human."
He gave a bitter smile.
"They called me a 'blemish.' A half-breed. A danger to the legacy. But my father kept me—because I was stronger than the others. Faster. Smarter. I was the hybrid child that shouldn't have existed… but did."
"And Lys?" San asked quietly.
Hyme's expression darkened.
"Lys is the firstborn. He's everything I wasn't. Pureblooded. Groomed to be king of the old world. But after I was born, the council started whispering—asking if hybrid blood was evolving. If I was the new ideal. My existence… threatened his crown."
He stood up and paced, tail flicking sharply.
"Three years ago, there was an assassination attempt. Everyone assumed it was political, but I knew the truth. Lys sent those people. He wanted me gone before I could grow stronger."
"And now he's back," San said grimly. "Sending you threats."
Hyme stopped pacing. "He's not just after me. If he sent that letter to both of us, that means he knows about you."
"I can handle myself," San said, standing now too. "Let him come. He's not touching you."
Hyme looked at him—really looked at him—and something in his chest tightened.
"I wasn't supposed to be loved," he whispered. "Not like this. Not by anyone… but especially not by you."
San stepped closer.
"I don't care what you were supposed to be. I care about who you are now."
For a moment, there was silence. Then Hyme pressed his forehead against San's chest, clutching his shirt with trembling fingers.
"Then I'll tell you everything," he murmured. "Even the parts I never wanted to remember."
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