The morning sun crept through the sheer silk curtains like a thief, stealing across the heated floor of the master suite in golden fingers that illuminated particles of dust dancing in the air—each one a witness to the sins committed in this room, each one carrying the scent of sex and sweat and submission that permeated every fiber of the space. Taehyung drifted awake slowly, her consciousness surfacing from depths of exhaustion, her body aching in places she hadn't known existed until Jungkook had taught her their purpose.

She was sprawled across his chest, her cheek pressed against the steady thunder of his heart, her legs tangled with his, her most intimate flesh pressed against the hard muscle of his thigh. The norigae pendant she had worn as an offering now lay discarded on the bedside table, but the marks he had left on her body were far more permanent—the bruises on her hips in the shape of his fingers, the bite marks on her breasts and throat, the tenderness between her legs that pulsed with every heartbeat, reminding her with each pulse exactly who she belonged to now.