a blinding heat that engulfed him. Stars exploded behind his eyes. This time, when he gasped, it was in pain. He stumbled back, his legs shaking, giving way beneath him.
He heard Miyoung yell his name, a garbled sound that mixed with the ringing in his ears.
Then he fell and he fell and he didn’t stop until he lost consciousness.
56
JIHOON WOKE TO beeps and whispers, the all-too-familiar sounds of the hospital. He kept his eyes closed to give himself time to gather his wits. As he let his mind adapt, he realized the whispers were low whimpers, like someone holding back sobs.
Jihoon opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. Miyoung’s head lay in her arms at the edge of his hospital bed.
“Miyoung?” It hurt his throat just to say her name.
“Jihoon!” Miyoung squeaked, startled.
“I’m fine.” He pushed her probing fingers away. “Why am I in the hospital?”
“You started to convulse. It was . . .” She trailed off. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that. You shouldn’t be the one who’s sorry.”
He shook his head, but it just worsened the dull pounding that lived behind his eyes now. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
Miyoung couldn’t seem to meet his eyes. Tears hung from her lashes, threatening to fall. His throat tightened at the sight. Originally he hadn’t wanted her to see one of his episodes because he didn’t want her to think he was weak. And now he didn’t because she was obviously worried. He hated to worry people he loved.
He frowned at the unbidden thought. Did he still love her?
Then he sighed. Of course he did—only someone he loved could make him as angry as she did.
“Miyoung, come here.” He patted the edge of the bed.
She sat precariously on the edge of the bed so she was more leaning than sitting.
With a heavy sigh, he gripped her hand. It felt clammy, shaking slightly in his.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m stronger than I look.” He tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her face.
Tears created rivers along her pale skin.
“Don’t cry. I promise I’ll be fine.” He wiped at the dampness on her cheeks and her hand came up to catch his. It no longer trembled.
“It’s all my fault,” she said again. “My bead is causing this.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because—” She paused, taking in deep breaths of air so quickly, he worried she’d hyperventilate.
“You’re scaring me,” Jihoon said. “Just say it.”
“It’s inside of you.”
“What? How?” He didn’t realize he’d pulled his hands back until they were cradled against his chest.
“You almost died when my mother attacked you. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” Miyoung stood, creating more distance between them. “Your halmeoni told me to use the bead.”
“My halmeoni?” Jihoon’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“It started to heal you, but it wasn’t enough. It needed more gi.”
“Whose?” Jihoon asked, but the weight in his stomach told him he already knew.
Miyoung didn’t answer. She couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Tell me whose gi.”
“Your halmeoni’s.”
Disbelief spread through him, a wash of ice. He couldn’t feel his toes, his fingers, his heart.
“She wanted you to live. It was her final wish.” Miyoung’s hands folded together, like she was begging him to understand.
“‘Final wish’?” Jihoon spat out, anger twisting his gut. “That’s why she won’t wake up from her coma.” Realization splashed over him like a winter wave breaking on rocks. “It wasn’t Yena. It was you.”
“I’m sorry. It was the only way to save you.”
“That’s why you came back? Because you felt guilty after doing this to my halmeoni?” Jihoon tried to catch his breath, praying he wouldn’t throw up as nausea curled through him.
“This is what I’m talking about,” Miyoung said, urgency in her voice. “Having my bead inside you is making you sick. A mortal body was never meant to hold a fox bead.”
“You had no right.” Jihoon wasn’t sure what he was referring to. Trading his halmeoni’s life for his. Saving him only to leave him. Coming back and making him love her again.
“Jihoon-ah, I’m so sorry.” She reached out, and he jerked back.
“Don’t touch me.” His chest flared with heat that he would have attributed to anger, except it lingered, a warmth that washed over his ribs and into his shoulders. Then it centered in his chest, directly over his heart, like a ball of fire. If he concentrated, he could almost hear another heartbeat, one that mirrored his own. Miyoung’s heart. Her eyes flashed as she brought her