Nine Tailed (Realm of Four Kingdoms, #1)

by Jayci Lee

Never expose the world of gods. Protect the magic. Keep the Amheuk, an ancient force of darkness, at bay.

As long as your gi originates from the sources created by the Cheon’gwang—Mountains, Sky, Water, or Underworld—you can join the Suhoshin’s ranks, if you’re powerful and talented enough.

And if you break the rules, the guardians will come after you no matter what you are—no preferential treatment. That makes me feel a smidgen better about the probability that I’m one of the Suhoshin’s most wanted.

“Ethan? I . . . what . . .” I’m the epitome of eloquence.

“I could’ve been anything I wanted, so I became the only thing I wanted to be.”

“Nice outfit.” He recovers from whatever passed between us quicker than I do. “Are you supposed to be a sexy leprechaun?” “You think I’m sexy, eh?” I force myself to smirk even as my stomach flutters at his offhand compliment. “Yes.” His full lips quirk into a lopsided grin, and my heart turns over. “For a leprechaun.” “Well, leprechauns are mean sons of bitches,” I say evenly, then show him my teeth in a vicious smile. “So I suggest you go get a drink at the bar before I bite you.” “If you’re trying to convince me to leave”—his eyes drop to my lips, which part without my permission—“you’re not doing a very good job.”

Giggling kicking my feet

I want the worlds around me to fade away, so I can lose myself in this kiss.

<3

The world of gods lies like gossamer over the human world—a shimmer in the corner of their eyes. The humans’ stories of gods and beasts weren’t born of wild imagination but woven together from the sudden goose bumps on their arms and the cold shivers down their spines. Human minds can’t grasp the truth, but they also can’t completely ignore the allure of the supernatural—the magic.

Fox spirits were once revered as deities in Korea, but that’s ancient history. Nowadays, most Koreans believe in the myth that gumihos are treacherous demons who turn into beautiful women to manipulate and control men to do their bidding.

There’s something important at the edge of my memory, but I can’t quite grasp it. I’m not too hard on myself about it, though. It’s not easy to think when my feet are dangling over the floor, with a scary-ass woman trying to choke me to death.

A quick glance tells me I only come up to his collarbone. He must be at least six feet four.

HEIGHT DIFFERENCE TROPE

This is why I hate peopling.

same girl, lmao

What he doesn’t know is that I can do obstinate and angry better than him. I’ve had over a century of practice. If I can’t convince him to leave, then I’ll leave. “And don’t even dream about ditching me,” he warns, as though reading my mind. “I showed up at your place because I had a feeling you might disappear again. I won’t stop searching for you, especially now. I can’t let you die too. Let me keep you safe, Sunny.”

He knows her too well lmao

“Are you wondering what I am?” “You’re Sunny Cho.” He finally looks at me, and his expression is fierce. “You’re the prickliest Sunny I’ve ever met, but you’re also the most generous person I know. You taught me how to protect myself, bought me beer without my brother knowing, and gave me the oddest but helpful pep talks. You’re my friend. That’s who you are.”

Having a near-death experience via weird-ass shit must make humans more open minded toward weird-ass shit.

The Johnnie Walker is an offering for the Seonangshin. I can’t show up empty handed. It would be disrespectful. Why booze? Beats me. Sometimes tradition is just tradition.

To him, I’m Sunny Cho—his friend—even when my eyes are on fire.

I was willing to die rather than take my gumiho form. Fuck destiny. Besides, what does my choice of going furry or not have to do with my destiny?

Who says selling shit at a casino in a tiny, hideous dress isn’t my destiny?

“All the folklore, fairy tales, mythology . . . they’re mostly not bullshit. The stories are bastardized and sensationalized, but they’re based on the truth. It doesn’t matter which culture the lore originates from—that’s just semantics.

“You’re a hundred-something-year-old gumiho who doesn’t age.” “One hundred thirty-two years young,” I quip, then cringe. He doesn’t laugh. Of course he doesn’t laugh. I clear my throat. “Yes.”

“There had to be a restaurant nearby,” he says, killing the engine. “You’re so pale, your lips look almost blue. You need a steak.”

HE IS MAD BUT HE PUTS HER WELL-BEING FIRST

“Why don’t you settle down?” the suhoshin suggests. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” I say, mimicking his gratingly calm voice.

“Let’s set one thing straight before I become overwhelmed with this new fucked-up reality. You and I? We’re sticking together. Period. End of discussion. Are we clear?”

He wants to stick with me. A one-hundred-thirty-two-year-old fox spirit with emotional baggage the size of Death Valley—plus the added bonus of having the most powerful dark mudang of all time on my tails. Only an idiot would want to stick with me.

“Call me sunshine one more time, and see how morbid my sense of humor gets.” I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror.

Ethan somehow pins me against the trunk, reversing our positions, and covers me with his body until his height and breadth cocoon me like armor. I hear the thunk of two more daggers piercing the side of the tree, much too close to us—to him. I’m suddenly furious, and I welcome the flare of violence that erupts inside me.

When he is willing to take several daggers to his back to protect her

“Slow down, Speedy.” I unsheathe my recorder. Shit. I shake off the glamour and raise my sword in front of me. “I wouldn’t want you to trip and get a boo-boo.” I’m lying, of course. I would like nothing better than for him to trip—preferably on top of my hwando—and die.

double over, blood spewing from my lips. It hurts so much that I want to weep and beg. On second thought, I would rather have him kiss my dead ass.

“And I will take your hand for touching her,” Ethan says in a steely voice I hardly recognize.

TOUCH HER AND YOU'RE DEAD TROPE

In the end, it is as easy as exhaling a long-held breath. There is no need to think or do. I simply am.

Ethan wisely keeps his mouth shut, but I want to kiss that cocky smirk off his face. No, not kiss. I meant punch. Like really, really hard. With my fist. Fuck.

If avoidance were an Olympic event, I’d be a record-breaking gold medalist.

Once again, same girl

“Come on, slowpoke,” I say over my shoulder. “Slowpoke?” He takes two long strides to catch up with me. “You need to work on your terms of endearment.” “Yeah?” I smirk. “How does dumbass work for you?” “I prefer dingus. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy when you call me that.”

“You’re pretty fast, but you’ll never be able to keep up with my gumiho.”

“And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you ride me.”

“I wasn’t asking for a ride,” he says in a low voice, his gaze dropping to my lips, then lower. “Besides, that’s not the kind of ride I’m interested in.”

AAAAAHHHHH

Considering the circumstances—where he’s being an unreasonable, noble asshole—maybe I can make time to throttle him.

I realize with a chill that I would destroy anyone who tries to hurt Ethan. Even the gods.

THIS

“But aren’t gods supposed to be . . . good?” “Aww, you’re sweet.” I pat his cheek.

So quick that I can’t pull away, he presses his hand over mine and turns his head to plant an open-mouthed kiss on my palm. I feel the barest flick of his tongue and gasp despite myself.

The mother knew her daughter couldn’t run from her destiny forever. She only hoped that the girl would find happiness along the way to sustain her through the devastation that would follow.

You must run, Daughter. You must never stop running.

I hear the death sizzle of my libido—Ethan’s words a bucket of cold water over the flames of my horniness.

massage and comb my hair. “Sit up.” He suddenly steps back from the tub and hisses out a breath. I obey unthinkingly, hugging my knees to my chest. “I’ll dry your hair, then help you get out.” I blink rapidly and shake my head. “I’m perfectly capable of—” “I want to take care of you, Sunny.” The heat of his words brushes against my ear, and my toes curl under the water. “Let me.”

Time to flex my avoidance muscles.

“You’re Ethan Lee.” I pull his hands away from his face and force him to meet my gaze. “You’re smart and funny, but stubborn as hell. You’re infuriating, but loyal, brave, and kind to the core. Ethan, you’re my friend. That’s who you are.”

“Sunny,” he says in a broken rasp. “I need to kiss you.” “Then do it.” I entwine my trembling arms around his neck. Then, not wanting to sound too bossy for once, I add, “Please.”

FINALLY

I thought his kiss would be soft and gentle, like the first rays of sunshine brushing awake the worlds. But I’m wrong. His lips are hot and hungry against mine, and every nerve ending in my body lights up. When I gasp at the sharp flash of pleasure, he plunges his tongue into my mouth, possessive and greedy. I whimper and push onto my toes. I didn’t realize kissing could feel like this. My

“I guess that means the last few days weren’t a bad dream.” “What kind of sick mind would dream up something like that?”