The Rogue

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/31750906.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Character: Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM,
Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Original
Characters
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Traditional A/B/O, Omega Jimin, Alpha
Jungkook, Head Alpha's Son Jimin, Jungkook is THE Rogue,
Captive/Captor, Captive Jungkook, Captor Jimin, Captain of the Guard
Namjoon, Attendant/Squire Taehyung, Guard Yoongi, Healer Hoseok,
fisherman seokjin, Antiquated setting, winter is coming, Food is scarce,
Mysterious illness, Prejudice when it comes to status/subgender,
Hunting, mentions of animal death, wolf forms, Blood, Injury,
Regenerative Capabilities, Healing Saliva, Licking Wounds (they're
wolves that's my excuse), Pack Dynamics, Pack Tension, Disturbing
Themes, Minor Character Death, suicide of a minor character,
Attempted Murder, Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault, Non-consensual
touching/groping, Coups, Rebellion, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Badass Park
Jimin, Badass Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook and Jimin are Protective of
each other, Love of Owls, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Imprinting,
Slow Burn, so slow it's ridiculous, Eventual Smut, Smut, Explicit Sexual
Content, slick, Knotting, Mating Bites, Bonds, Found Family, Mentions of
Infertility, heat/rut sex, Somnophilia, slight exhibitionism, Non-detailed
mpreg, Happy Ending
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2021-06-11 Completed: 2023-08-23 Words: 226,263
Chapters: 18/18

The Rogue
by Allnighter_Friend

Summary

His eyes flash like twin flames, something in his gaze enough to make Jimin shiver with
what he sees.

"Wild," they whisper.

"Feral," they warn.

 But even still, Jimin's omega claims something far more dangerous.

Mine.

Jimin, son of the head alpha and lord of the Park pack, organizies a hunting party into
Soksagim Forest, attempting to bring back food for their people and replenish their
dwindling supplies. He's never been one to believe in the fanciful tales about the forgotten
wolves in the woods, until he comes face to face with the rogue.

Notes

You can watch a trailer for this fic here

To my prompter, thank you for this, as soon as I read your summary the entire story played
out in my head. I hope you like it.

As stated in the tags, there is a scene where an open wound is licked as a means to promote
healing. They're wolves, that's my excuse, but if you're squemish and don't like the sound of
that, please do not read. If you're still with me, enjoy.
Prompt:

head alpha's son omega jimin is an alpha hater who is decided he doesnt need an alpha to
lead the pack in the future until he meets jungkook, a rogue alpha who was caught by
jimin's pack during a raid outside

jungkook, being a rogue, has no interest in taking the lead of a pack and that's exactly what
piques jimin's interest in him

dw: feisty jimin, equally feisty jungkook, but theyre soft for each other (eventually), size
kink, breeding
dnw: mcd

See the end of the work for more notes

 Soksagim Forest

* Beautiful artwork created by Dee and commissioned by the lovely Kayla. *

The anguished cry of a wolf howl is what pulls Jimin from sleep, and even in his dazed state, he
knows that the cadence is different, deep and unrecognizable...

It belongs to none of his pack.

He should be terrified by the possibility of an intruder in their territory, but there is a longing and
desperation in the sound of that cry, a kind of suffering that stirs up unexplainable empathy within
him. It tears at Jimin’s chest, insides twisting into knots, and compelling him from the comfort of
his bed. He shivers, brought on from more than just the frigid temperature as he pulls back the
covers, hissing when his bare feet touch the stone floor, and inches cautiously towards the
window, the full moon bright and high in the sky, illuminating the stillness of the village below.

Another howl startles Jimin, even as he tells himself he doesn’t hear it. It’s just the remnants of a
dream that still has hold of him, his imagination running wild. But those silent denials are enough
to have his omega lifting its head, scratching restlessly at the confines of his mind, its whining
growls contradicting him.

Liar, it says.

Jimin tells himself he doesn’t hear that, either.

He’s grown up on stories of the forgotten wolves that live in Soksagim Forest. Stories that mothers
recite to their pups, even now, as a way to ward them off from the thick line of trees on the eastern
side of their land. Cautionary tales detailing what happens to you if you get lost in the woods,
snatched up by rogue wolves that do unspeakable things to unsuspecting members of the pack.

Wild, they whisper.

Feral, they warn.

Absurd, Jimin thinks.

There has not been a single recorded incident of any member of the pack going missing—or
worse—in the woods. It doesn’t stop the stories, though, nor does it dissuade the woodcutters from
spreading false rumors to rival the tales of the mothers.

Jimin had to deal with one earlier this evening, and the only thing that kept him from reprimanding
the older wolf for believing such things was the genuine look of fear in his eyes, the pallor of his
skin pale as he gave his progress report on the lumber, recounting the events with a noticeable
waver in his voice.

“There’s something out there,” he’d sworn. “I could feel its eyes on me. Could hear it snarling as I
ran.”

Ridiculous.

Rogue wolves have been living in the forest for decades, yet no one has seen them? No injuries, no
casualties and no one gone missing?

Absolutely ridiculous.

Another howl echoes through the night, and Jimin trembles, eyes alert, but there’s no movement
outside the window of his bedchamber, and not even the moonlight appears able to pierce through
the thick treeline.

Jimin turns away from the woods, and instead skims across the reflective waters of Lake Geoul
before looking towards the north, where Hogok Mountain stands, its giant, imposing silhouette
reaching towards the sky, the dark rock covered in snow. The storms have been coming further and
further down the summit, a blanket of white burying the once grassy floor and announcing the
arrival of winter.

That is what the noise is. Not feral wolves or wild invisible monsters, but rather the roar of a storm,
and the solidifying change of the seasons.
His wolf bares its teeth, irritated over his excuses, but Jimin brings it to heel, moving away from
the window even as it fights him. He stokes the embers of the burnt-out fire in his hearth, adding
more logs in an effort to rekindle the flames and chase away the chill. Jimin stands there for a
moment, losing himself in the way the fire steadily grows, it’s heat bringing on a heavy drowsiness
in him, a reminder that he was awoken in the middle of the night with barely any sleep. He moves
back towards the bed quickly, where it’s warm and comfortable, made of down feathers and
covered in soft, thick furs, making Jimin sigh as he sinks back into it, eager for sleep.

It does not come so easily, though. Not when his eyes betray him, slowly traveling back to the
frosted pane of glass, watching as a flurry of snow begins to fall, the silence deafening. Jimin holds
his breath for a moment, body tense as he listens, but nothing happens.

And so he relaxes.

Just another storm from the mountain, playing on his exhaustion like easy prey.

When another howl rings out in the night, Jimin continues to tell himself he doesn't hear it.

________________

It's still dark when his eyes open next, another disturbance pulling him forcefully from sleep.
There’s a shift in the air, a scent that doesn’t belong, and the very sobering realization that
someone is in his room.

Rogue wolves, his mind whispers as panic tries to set in.

Jimin won’t let it.

He grasps the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his pillow, pulling it close as he springs up, his
breathing calm and controlled, gaze locked in the direction of his door, blade poised.

The intruder doesn’t so much as flinch, and before Jimin's eyes completely adjust, he makes out the
unmistakable scent of aloe, thin papery skin, white hair, and finally, the weary face of the pack’s
oldest and wisest healer, Haneul. She stares back at him in unimpressed apathy, as if her life
weren't in danger.

As the son of the high alpha, and lord of the village, If any other wolf had dared to enter Jimin’s
private chambers without permission they would be met with a harsh punishment, but he's been
expecting this, and the old beta poses no threat to him.

He watches as she lifts a gnarled, bone-thin finger, and slowly beckons.

“You must come,” she orders, voice cracking like autumn leaves underfoot. “He is worse.”

Jimin’s heart sinks, but he does as he’s told, throwing his blankets off and climbing out of bed for
the second time this night. He adorns his bare feet with slippers and wraps himself in a thick fur
robe before following her out.

The Great Lodge is quiet, its halls empty. Most of the candles and torches remain unlit, which
hasn’t occurred since the passing of his mother almost ten summers ago. Jimin’s home feels like a
ghost of its former self, the stillness and silence of it unsettling him in ways he cannot discern, nor
comfort.

They travel quickly down the winding halls, the double doors that lead to his father’s private
quarters coming into view, slightly ajar. Jimin watches Haneul slip through the opening,
disappearing inside without a word. He steals himself, taking in a deep breath and asking for
strength before going in after her.
There’s barely any light in the massive room, his father’s hearth unused and filled with nothing but
cold ash. As a consequence, it’s freezing inside, more so than it was in the halls, due in part to the
numerous great windows. Jimin pulls his robe tighter around himself, moving deeper into the room
towards the lone lit candle that resides on a chest of drawers next to his father’s bed.

“Should we not keep him warm?” he questions quietly, the elderly beta mixing something foul-
smelling in a wooden bowl.

“The fever rages in him. He complains of the heat,” she explains, lifting the spoon to her nose and
inhaling with a frown.

Jimin’s gaze lands on his father’s furrowed brow, and carefully places a hand over his forehead
before quickly removing it with a hiss.

“He feels like ice,” he complains, leaning over the imposing bedframe and tucking in the furs
around the alpha’s heavy body.

Her eyes narrow on him, mottled hands stilling on her mixture.

“Inside, he burns.”

Jimin sighs, but lets it go, not wanting to offend the old healer, especially knowing that she’s the
best chance his father has.

“What do we do?”

“We need his fever to break,” Haneul answers, going back to stirring the awful smelling
concoction. “This will help to settle his stomach. Keep the fluids down. Maybe some broth.”

Jimin stands silently by his father’s bedside, frowning whenever he whimpers, sleep fitful. His
usual vibrant scent of thyme is muted and dull, sending his wolf into a fit of confused and worried
whines.

“You must hold him down,” Haneul suddenly instructs, and Jimin obeys, attempting to place a
hand on each of his father's shoulders, but the healer shakes her head.

“Climb up,” she orders, motioning impatiently, and Jimin tugs his robe out of the way as he
complies, settling himself against the bed’s headboard so he can better place his hands, looking to
Haneul for approval and receiving a terse nod.

“He will not like this,” she warns, prying open his mouth and shoveling some of her mixture
inside.

True to her prediction, Jimin’s grip tightens as his father starts thrashing, weak attempts to get
away. But even weak attempts for an alpha as big as the leader of the Park Pack is hardly
manageable.

“Keep hold,” Haneul rallies, joining in the effort with one hand as she holds the lord’s mouth
forcibly shut with the other. Despite that, some of the watery fluid starts to leak out from the
alpha’s lips, dribbling down his chin. Haneul clamps her hand tighter, and eventually he stops
fighting, the tension slowly leaving his limbs.

When he stills once more, she turns to Jimin with a weary sigh, wiping her palm on the faded and
stained material of her cloak as he climbs back off of the bed.

“I’ll continue to see to his care personally, and begin giving him water every hour. If he cannot
keep even that down, you might have to prepare yourself.”
Jimin doesn’t want to think about the meaning of those words and what they imply, dredging up a
memory long since passed. His father’s voice echos in his mind during a time when he was still
healthy and young, this possibility a distant worry.

“One day, I will no longer lead, and then it falls to you, Jimin.”

“Me?”

“Yes, my son.”

“I will lead?”

“You will choose someone worthy to be the next leader. The alpha who will be your mate.”

An old, familiar anger rises up in him at those words. At his fate, and the unfairness he’s felt ever
since the day he learned of it. That he is no more than a means for an alpha to become lord.

“What does he need,” he asks stoically, not wanting to entertain the scenario that; should his father
become worse, he’ll be forced to tether himself to some wolf he has no desire binding himself to.

“Rest,” Haneul answers immediately. “Rest and water will help with the sickness. The herbs I have
can only do so much. And he will need food to regain his strength.”

“The whole village is in need of food,” Jimin whispers, panic setting into him like the roots of
weeds, finding the weak points of his mind and growing there, spreading until he feels like he’s on
the verge of a breakdown.
Winter is harsh, but it’s only just begun, and the harvests have not been bountiful, giving the pack
barely enough to live on.

“The gods,” some of the superstitious wolves whisper. “The gods are punishing us!”

What they are being punished for, exactly, Jimin does not know, but he does know that food is
getting scarce. Lake Geoul will eventually freeze over, and the supply of fish will slow until there
is barely anything. The crops have all died out, and the hunters have only been able to snare a few
rabbits with their traps, wary of venturing deeper into the woods.

No thanks to the fanciful tales and rumors.

Haneul’s eyes bore into him, the irises nearly milky white, her wrinkled lips drawn into a thin line.

“You should know that the lord alpha’s case isn’t an isolated one. I have seen these same
symptoms in others.”

Jimin’s mouth falls open, countless questions on the tip of his tongue that he can’t hope to voice.

“What does that mean?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It means it’s spreading.”

Maybe the gods are punishing us.

“I’ll take care of it,” Jimin vows, glancing at his father’s palid, sunken-in features before turning
and leaving him in Haneul’s care.

________________

Rather than return to his quarters, Jimin checks the kitchens attached to the Great Hall, finding the
shelves and cupboards bare. It’s the same for the pantries and the storehouses, no meat curing from
the empty hooks in the ceiling, flour reserves low.

He had heard the cooks complain about shortages, but his father never once alluded to how bad
their situation really is. They are not prepared for winter. In a months time, maybe less, they will
bring in no more fish, while most animals will; or have already begun to hibernate. The livestock
would have to be rationed, but won’t last long at this rate, and there won’t be enough to feed the
entire pack.

Some will starve. Others might succumb to this unknown illness that plagues the village…

Jimin can’t let that happen.

Lifting his robe away from his feet, he rushes towards the serving quarters that houses most of the
staff, entering the wing designated for the omegas. He halts in front of a familiar door with a silver
latch, and proceeds to knock continuously, rushing inside when it’s finally thrown open.

Taehyung stares at him through slitted eyes, lids swollen, one hand in his hair while the other
scratches at his side. It’s dark, the fire in the hearth burnt down to ashes, but at least the room is
warm, filled with the scent of bergamot and citrus. Jimin’s eyes adjust quickly, watching as the
other omega closes the door behind him and sluggishly goes about lighting the candles placed
throughout the room, used to Jimin visiting at all hours of the night.
“You’re upset,” the other wolf rasps, easy to discern from the sharpness of Jimin's scent. “Is it your
father?”

“Yes, but he is not my only concern.”

Taehyung raises a brow, and together they take a seat at the small wooden table where they’ve
always discussed important matters.

“What is it?” he presses, sounding much more awake than he did before.

“My father is getting worse. Haneul even warned he might not recover.”

“But then you will—”

“Be forced to choose a mate, yes.”

“Oh, Jimin.”

He holds his hand up, taking in a deep, steadying breath as the other omega waits patiently,
knowing just how much he detests speaking about the future that awaits him.

“That’s not all. Haneul also informed me that there are others like my father. Others with the same
symptoms. She says it’s spreading.”
Taehyung’s eyes widen, his mouth opening and closing, as if searching for the right words.

“Fuck me,” he settles on, and despite himself, Jimin gives an amused shake of his head.

“There’s more. I’ve just checked our food stores. We won’t be able to hold through winter. We
barely have enough for a few weeks, maybe less. My father didn’t tell me how dire it is, but if we
don’t rectify it now, I fear some of the pack will starve.”

“What do you want me to do?” Taehyung asks, quickly rising from his chair to collect some
parchment, ink, and a quill before returning to the table with his supplies.

“I need the fishermen on Geoul to stay out longer than usual. They need to bring in as much as they
can before the lake freezes over, at least until we gain some leeway.”

Taehyung scribbles furiously, and Jimin waits for him to finish before carrying on.

“I need arrows from the blacksmith, regular arrows, as well as the ones for hunting small game. I
need traps, and a horse-drawn cart that can be taken into Soksagim.”

Taehyung’s quill scratches a hole through the parchment, and he looks at Jimin incredulously.

"The forest? You want men to enter the forest?"

Jimin sighs, not expecting Taehyung to fall prey to the stories passed around.

"The pack needs to eat, Tae. I don't want a single member going without."
"What about you?" he demands, discarding the quill on the table and staining the surface with ink,
uncaring as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"What about me?" Jimin asks innocently, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't think I don't see you every night giving away your share of supper. When's the last time you
ate?"

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I will be, after our storehouses are full again.”

Taehyung gives him that familiar look of his that says he doesn’t believe a word he says, but if
anyone knows how stubborn Jimin is, it’s Taehyung. He lets it go with a defeated sigh, once more
taking the quill in hand, and continues to write on his ruined parchment.

“A horse-drawn cart,” he recites slowly, looking up at Jimin from beneath long lashes. “You’re
sure about this?”

“Don’t tell me you believe in those ridiculous tales.”

“Every tale is rooted in some basis of truth.”

A shiver runs up Jimin’s spine at Tae’s words, the echo of the wolf howl from earlier ringing
against the walls of his mind.

Even so.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he whispers obstinately, proud when his voice remains level and
firm.

The other omega sighs, shaking his head at the stubborn show of bravodo, quill hovering above the
parchment when he asks, "And who would you send into the forest?"

“Ten wolves, at least.”

He nods in approval at the answer, marking down the numbers one through ten, his affinity for
lists a trait that Jimin has always admired about him.

“Min Yoongi should be among them. He’s the best tracker we have, and he’s skilled with traps.”

Strangely enough, Taehyung hesitates briefly before writing the name down, licking his lips and
humming for him to continue.

“I’ve heard Son Yoonwoo is a good hunter as well.”

Tae fills in the number two spot with the wolf’s name.
Jimin quiets, not really wanting to voice his other options, but for the good of his pack, he must put
aside personal preference.

“Kim Doyun, Gwan Jaesung, Yang Hyunjung, Lee Eun, Kim Ilsung, and Mae Jungseo are all
capable.”

“And the last two?” Taehyung questions, eyeing the empty spaces.

Jimin takes in a breath and prepares for the incoming argument.

“Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin.”

Taehyung levels him with a firm look, his gaze hard as he stares into Jimin’s eyes, unblinking.

“You’re obviously still exhausted, you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Tae—”

“Your father is incapable of leading the pack right now, Jimin. You’re supposed to stand in his
stead, yet you want to go traversing into Soksagim Forest? No one will agree to this.”

“It’s not up to them, it’s up to me.”

“Why? Why do you need to go?”

It would be impossible to explain it in a way that Taehyung will understand and accept. How is he
supposed to tell him that he needs to see what’s out there, or not out there? That his omega feels as
if it's being called by the forest itself, the leaves whispering his name, the sound steadily gaining in
volume, no longer willing to be ignored and instead taking on the guise of a howl in the middle of
the night. His wolf needs to be appeased, to put to rest once and for all the draw that the woods
have on him.

So he shrugs instead and gives a half-truth.

“It’s just something I have to see through. To know our people will have enough.”

“The majority of this list is full of alphas you despise.”

“I despise most alphas, it’s unavoidable. Besides, Namjoon will be with me.”

Taehyung snorts.

“If he even agrees to this.”

“He’ll have to, I’m the pack leader until my father recovers.”

The omega snorts again and shakes his head, but next to numbers nine and ten he writes Kim
Namjoon and Park Jimin.
 ________________

Jimin goes back to the Great Hall and sends a messenger to bring Namjoon to him, not willing to
travel to the barracks at this time of night, alone. Likewise, Namjoon appears uncomfortable with
the audience at the late hour, Jimin so obviously still in his bedclothes beneath the thick robe he
wears.

It’s a reminder as to why Jimin has always respected and liked Kim Namjoon, even though he is an
alpha. After nearly half a decade of being Jimin’s personal guard, he has never once taken liberties,
nor has he ever overstepped or shown inappropriate behaviour, and as such he gained Jimin's trust
long ago, becoming one of his closest confidants and friends.

“You called, my lord.”

"Please, we've known each other too long, you need not be so formal."

"It is your title while you stand in for your father."

Jimin levels him with an unimpressed look, grinning when Namjoon sighs.

"You called, Jimin."

“I did, and I must apologize for disturbing you so late.”

Namjoon waves away his concern, so Jimin carries on.

“Winter is here, and I’m sure you’ve heard about the food shortages we face.”

“I've heard the rumors.”

“We must do something about it before the weather takes away the option.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, hands clasped behind his broad back.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I've asked that the fishermen stay on Lake Geoul for longer. Livestock must be rationed. And I
have devised a hunting party to go into Soksagim Forest.”

“How many?”

“Ten,” Jimin answers, swallowing slowly before continuing. “You and I included.”

Namjoon’s expression doesn’t change as he stares him down, his cypress scent barely even
souring.

“Absolutely not.”

Jimin cocks his head at the wolf, brow raised.

“That wasn’t a request.”

Namjoon’s collected expression falls, and he shifts on his feet, a restless energy overtaking him.
Like Taehyung, he is well aware of how stubborn Jimin is.

“I promised your father I’d look after you.”

“And that is why you’re coming with me.”

The alpha appears as if he would like nothing more than to argue still, but seems to realize how
fruitless it would be.

“Who else have you chosen for this venture?”

Jimin lists off their names, watching the way Namjoon smoothes out the crease in his brow with
the tip of a finger.

“I’ve already sent messengers to them. We’ll leave at dawn. You should get as much rest as you
can until then.”

“Should we not plan this more thoroughly? Plan—”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of time. People will starve if we continue to wait.”

Namjoon sighs, giving a terse nod because he knows it to be true.

“You listen to me out there,” he finally concedes, but of course, with stipulations of his own. “And
you do not leave my side.”

“Understood,” Jimin quietly responds with a pleased grin, wishing; not for the first time, that his
wolf held any interest for the alpha. Life would be so much easier if his omega desired Namjoon
and Namjoon's alpha desired him.

________________

When Jimin wakes again, he finds his gaze captivated by his window. Outside, the sky is
lightening with predawn, and already, as per his orders, there are fishing boats on Lake Geoul. He
rises, dressing in thick grey leathers and a floor-length, silvery-white fur cloak, matching the
pigment of his hair, the strands long and loose.

A nervous energy fills him as he stares towards the woods, the ominous shadows it casts and the
vastness of it's size putting him on edge. Meanwhile, in contradiction with his human nature,
Jimin's omega is eager and impatient, wanting nothing more than to run straight into the forest. He
pushes those feelings down as best as he can and turns away from the window, exiting his room
decisively, marking his progression by the tapping noise the heels of his boots make on the uneven
stone floor, echoing in the quiet. When he reaches the Great Hall, he’s met with the openly
lascivious stares of the alphas he selected for the hunting party, every one but Min Yoongi and
Namjoon eyeing him like a piece of meat.

Kim Doyun stands, and Jimin has to force himself to hold his ground, ignoring his omega’s urge to
recoil when the scent of smoked cardamom hits him.

In truth, he detests the alpha, callous and self-assured in the worst possible way, while vocally
looking down on others, belittling those he deems weaker than him. Unfortunately, he has made
his interest in Jimin common knowledge among the pack, going so far as to boast that his omega
will submit to him. The very idea of it sends unpleasant shivers down his spine, accompanied by a
sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. In a rare occurrence, both him and his wolf agree that
they will never accept the entitled alpha, who undoubtedly only wants to mate him for his social
standing and nothing more.
When Doyun addresses him he does so without title or respect, his voice booming in the stone
room, bouncing off the rafters and causing Jimin's teeth to vibrate, even as he clenches his jaw.

“While I believe this hunting excursion is needed, you should not be a part of it. Your place is
here.”

Your place.

Jimin’s nature might be stubborn at times, but beneath that his disposition has always been kind,
and gentle.

Doyun makes him want to change that, and likely sensing his anger, Namjoon is the one who
refutes the impudent wolf, his expression pinched in obvious displeasure.

“Questioning the standing pack leader? You would do well to know your place.”

Jimin feels a burning gratitude for him, but Doyun refuses to back down.

“The forest is dangerous for an omega.”

“I’m sure the forest is dangerous for anyone, regardless of subgender,” Jimin calls, remaining
poised, his lessons in etiquette ingrained in him. “But my decision is final and not up for
discussion,” he announces firmly, daring any of them to argue.

Every alpha in the room looks to Doyun then, waiting to see what he’ll do. It’s clear he’d like
nothing more than to force Jimin to obey, but wisely keeps his mouth shut in the face of an
audience.
“Is everything ready?” Jimin asks, directing his gaze towards Namjoon.

“Taehyung waits outside”

At that, he moves past the alphas gathered, sparing them not a second thought as he makes his way
towards the doors leading to the outer courtyard, hiding a shiver when a blast of cold air runs
through him as they're pulled open. He spots Taehyung immediately when he descends the stairs,
the omega comforting a bay-colored shire horse harnessed to the cart he requested.

Jimin’s lingering irritation vanishes, unable to help but smile when he sees his closest friend again,
even though he saw him just hours before.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he compliments, grinning when Taehyung offers a shrug. He gives one
final scratch between the mare’s eyes and comes around to the back of the cart to meet Jimin,
lifting some of the dark furs covering the supplies.

“Traps, arrows, provisions, rations. You have your bow?”

“I do.”

“The different arrows you requested are bundled separately. The furs should protect everything
from the elements, including you, should you get stuck out there, gods forbid.”

Jimin laughs, squeezing the other omega’s shoulder in delight.

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“It’s my job.”

Jimin hums, smiling fondly, only to have his expression fall when he observes Taehyung’s gaze
drift somewhere over his shoulder, staring at something behind him before quickly looking away,
cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

Slowly, Jimin glances in that direction to investigate, surprised to spot Min Yoongi steadily
descending the stone steps.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asks, turning back to face the other omega, so
obviously trying to distract himself by worrying over the satchels resting in the cart.

“Of course there isn’t, I tell you everything.”

Jimin raises a brow at him and Taehyung huffs in annoyance when he meets his gaze.

“There’s nothing to tell. I find him insufferable.”

“Insufferably attractive?”

“Insufferably arrogant,” he corrects, but the pretty blush that burns across the bridge of his nose
says otherwise.

Jimin snorts, but doesn't press for answers. Taehyung will tell him when he's ready.
“And you? How are you going to fare in the forest with a bunch of alphas you can’t stand?”

He recognizes the subject change for what it is, but allows it anyway.

“If they irritate me, I’ll put an arrow in their backside. Most of them think omegas can’t even latch
a bow, they’ll just assume I’m a poor shot.”

Taehyung giggles, leaning his forehead on Jimin’s shoulder and scenting him, soothing them both
as Jimin's petrichor and polianthes mixes with Taehyung's bergamot and citrus, the familiarity of it
putting them both at ease.

“I almost want to go now, just to see that.”

“You don’t want to go. Too busy believing the tales about rogue wolves.”

“For your sake, I hope they aren’t true.”

Jimin shoves him good-naturedly, looking up when he feels Taehyung stiffen, watching as Yoongi
approaches them.

"My apologies for interrupting. If it’s alright, I’d like to inspect the traps.”

Taehyung’s brow creases at the request, his expression one of clear annoyance.
“They’re traps, what is there to inspect?”

“There are many different types of traps.”

“I know that.”

“I simply wish to see which ones you’ve acquired.”

Taehyung’s face is turning red again, but before he can offer any more hostilities, Jimin nudges
him towards the alpha, trying to keep his expression composed.

“He’ll be happy to show you.”

Yoongi inclines his head in gratitude, and Jimin begins to walk away so they can have some
privacy, pretending he doesn’t hear Taehyung hissing after him.

“I hope you’re eaten by rogues.”

Namjoon intercepts him as he moves across the courtyard, face stern, eyes weary.

“You’re sure you will not stay?”

The question rankles Jimin, arms crossing over his chest, hip cocked as he raises a brow at his
guard.
“So was all that ‘know your place about questioning the pack leader’ posturing, then?”

The alpha flushes slightly, but adamantly shakes his head.

“Doyun would have you stay for archaic beliefs. I would have you stay to keep you safe. I know
you're more than capable, but as you said, the woods are dangerous, regardless of status, and if you
fall, who would our people have then?”

A smile tugs at the corners of Jimin’s lips at the sincere explanation, and he reaches up slowly,
cupping the alpha’s cheek while warmth fills him, the smell of cypress trees permeating the air,
mixing with his own.

“You worry too much, old friend.”

“Should we not be going?” A voice suddenly barks, and both Namjoon and Jimin look towards the
disturbance, his hand falling from the alpha as Doyun himself approaches. "Dawn will not wait
forever."

He moves past them at a brisk pace, setting his own satchel of equipment down in the cart.

Namjoon turns back to Jimin with a frown, voice lowered and concerned.

“He thinks I am an obstacle for your affections.”

“Well he is mistaken. I have no affection for him.”

The alpha grabs his hand despite the onlookers, and gives an imploring look.

“Be careful, Jimin. He has been telling anyone who will listen that he will have you, and challenge
those who get in his way.”

Jimin knows this, just as he knows Namjoon doesn’t agree with the old ways, but he still needs to
refute it to someone, hear the words spoken out loud.

“I am not a prize to be won. No one will have me. I will choose a suitable mate, and anyone who
thinks otherwise are the ones who should be careful."

A grin forms over Namjoon's lips at his declaration, clearly pleased, but deciding to speak on it no
further.

"Shall we go, then?"

Jimin nods and moves back towards the cart, raising a brow when Taehyung stomps towards him,
clearly irritated, while Namjoon moves past and approaches Yoongi, likely to discuss the hunt, the
smaller alpha seemingly oblivious to Taehyung's displeasure.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks quietly, genuinely concerned when Taehyung hugs his own torso
and huffs.

“I hate alphas.”

“Don’t imitate me.”

He watches the other omega snort, but it has the desired effect, the corner of his lips turning up in a
tentative smile.

“I didn’t mean it earlier, by the way. I don’t want you to get eaten by rogues.”

“Oh good,” Jimin sighs in exaggerated relief. “I was worried for a second.”

Tae shoves his shoulder before grabbing his wrist and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Come back, okay?”

Jimin wraps his own arms around the other omega and squeezes, inhaling his soothing scent.

“Promise.”

They spare each other one last glance before Taehyung reluctantly makes his way up the stairs to
return inside the Great Lodge. Jimin watches him go, the air biting at his exposed skin and making
his nose go numb, a mixture of feelings he cannot sort through running rampant in him.

“Do you wish to ride in the cart, my lord?” Yoonwoo calls, breaking the moment and making Jimin
roll his eyes before he turns back to face the others.

“That won’t be necessary, but feel free to do so yourself.”

He walks past the alphas, going straight for the lead harnessed to the shire horse, giving the mare a
pat along her shiny neck. He soothes her with a gentle hum, smiling as she shoves her head into his
chest, looking for more affection.

“Do you have a name yet?”

She nudges his shoulder, nearly knocking him off his feet, and he holds onto her as he considers.

“Hmm...how about...Bongcha?”

She snorts against his cloak, making Jimin giggle at her heated breath.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Bongcha it is.”

He gives her another scratch along her forehead before turning back and addressing the hunting
party.

“Everyone ready?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, clicking his tongue and gently nudging the giant horse along the
path.

It’s slow going, the recent snow making the journey increasingly difficult. They trudge through it,
and Jimin hates to admit even to himself that he misses the comfort of his room, his warm soft bed
and roaring fire. Almost wishes he chose to sit in the cart instead of trying to prove something, but
he'll be damned if he does so now.
His omega won’t let him dwell on it, though, already restless and becoming more worked up the
closer they get to Soksagim Forest. As if there’s something there waiting for him…

Jimin needs to know what it is.

The path becomes uneven and hard to manage once they leave the village, skirting along the edge
of Lake Geoul. The fishermen bob slowly along the surface of the water in their boats, and Jimin
watches them as he leads Bongcha forward, his gaze rising to Hogok Mountain in concern. He
sends a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that any additional snowfall is kept at bay for a
little while longer.

They leave the lake behind them, traveling through a field of cut down trees, the massive size of
the trunks catching Jimin’s interest.

There’s just...so many, and yet they still continue to harvest the wood.

“Do these not get pulled from the soil?” he wonders aloud, his gaze sweeping over the multitude of
stumps.

“It takes much effort for trees as big as these,” Jaesung answers him, but that answer does not
appease Jimin, the staggering amount that have been torn down is painfully evident.

“Would that not create more jobs for those in need? It’s unusable land as it is.”

“Not everyone would be willing to take part in that kind of work, my lord. Especially so close to
the forest.”

Jimin shakes his head in irritation. Those damn stories again.

When they reach the treeline, the woodcutters are already hard at work, only pausing in their
routine to mark their party’s passing, bowing respectively once their eyes meet Jimin’s. They look
trepidatious, a kind of uncertainty and anxiousness coloring their features, though they do not voice
their concerns.

Jimin recognizes the same beta who met him in the Great Lodge recently, convinced something
had chased him out of the forest. Kyeongsu, he thinks his name is. There's something in his eyes
that looks much like fear and resignation, Jimin's own anxiety spiking and has to look away
quickly, trying to think of other things.

Jimin urges the mare further, leaving the woodcutters behind. They don’t stop until the trees thin,
and an opening that will safely allow the horse and cart through presents itself.

Namjoon steps in front of him, then, clearly not comfortable with allowing him to continue leading
the way. Since Jimin did agree he would listen to the alpha, he; for once, doesn’t make a fuss
about it, handing the lead over when Namjoon holds his hand open for it.

He stays by the alpha’s side as they collectively enter Soksagim Forest, with only the sound of the
wind and the crunching of snow reaching their sensitive ears. It feels unnaturally quiet, even for
the season, a sense of foreboding hanging in the air. The trees are tall and imposing figures,
reaching up towards the sky with their bare branches, yet still somehow manage to block out the
rising sun. It feels like they're sentient beings, moving forth to close in on their group, surrounding
them.

Jimin isn’t sure how long they walk, but the feeling of being watched makes the back of his neck
tingle, his body tensing with each passing minute. Yoongi scouts ahead of them, his eyes searching
for tracks, nose twitching while he continuously scents the air. Ilsung and Eun spread out from the
left of the cart, while Hyunjung and Jungseo take the right. Jaesung and Yoonwoo hold the rear,
and Doyun cuts ahead just behind Yoongi, clearly not liking the other alpha taking point, if his
sneer is anything to go by.

When the trees start to thin again, Yoongi comes back to the cart, motioning for Namjoon to halt,
and the other wolves still as well. They watch him dig through the satchels, pulling one free from
the rest and going to a nearby mound of snow.

“Rabbits,” he directs over his shoulder, assembling one of the traps that Taehyung had provided.

They move on slowly, Yoongi periodically setting more traps. Jimin doesn’t know how he does it.
All he can smell is the freshness of snow, and all he can hear is the creaking wheels of the cart as it
rolls forward, accompanied by the eerie silence of the forest.

They walk farther still, and Jimin wonders how much deeper into the woods they’ll have to travel,
even as his omega pushes him to keep going.

How vast is Soksagim? How far is he meant to go to find what his wolf is searching for, and would
he ever be able to find his way back out again? Or would he be lost forever, swallowed up by the
countless shadows and piles of dead leaves, ice beginning to collect in the veins of them, turning
the copper hues of autumn into a radiant blue.

From between Namjoon and Jimin, Bongcha abruptly stops, eyes wide and ears forward, alert.
Namjoon tries to encourage the Shire to continue on, but the mare refuses, stomping at the snow-
covered ground while attempting to back up and rear her head.

“She’s scared,” Jimin whispers, his eyes finding Yoongi at the front.

The alpha is still, knees bent and almost fully crouched on the ground, gaze fixated on a cluster of
trees just ahead. Namjoon silently hands the lead back to him, keeping his attention on the trees
just like the others. Jimin takes it, his hands clammy with nerves, but steady.

As quick as he can, he gives the lead some slack, wrapping it loosely around his wrist as he steps
closer to the cart, throwing his cloak back to expose his shoulder in order to retrieve the bow slung
on his arm. Gripping it in one hand his other blindly digs inside the cart, latching an arrow from
one of the satchels. There’s some heavy rustling in the brush, the sound of a twig snapping, the
shire whining in distress—

It all happens so fast.

Yoongi throws himself onto the ground, changing forms quickly with no thought to his clothes, the
fabric tearing as fur covers his body, a smoky grey wolf taking his place. Just as he moves forward,
something bursts from the trees, giant and snarling.

Jimin’s eyes widen as he takes in the boar, the majority of the hunting party following suit and
changing into their wolf forms. Yoongi is already on the beast, sharp, elongated canines attempting
to snap at the enraged animal, but its skin seems almost too thick to pierce, and it bucks the alpha
off easily, slamming it’s head into the agouti-colored wolf that Jimin knows to be Namjoon, only
just missing him with it's tusks. More of the alphas move in to take it down, but the beast manages
to evade, heading straight for the biggest target.

Jimin and the mare.

He evens his breathing, raises his bow, takes aim and unlatches, watching the end of his arrow find
its mark between the creature’s eyes, its momentum almost thrown back into the snow, where it
falls and stills.

The surrounding powder stains red, spreading like spilled ink on parchment, holding Jimin’s gaze
captive, something flickering in the deepest confines of his mind at the sight.

With the boar disposed of, Bongcha calms considerably, and most of the alphas change back to
their human form, gathering what they can of their garments. Namjoon barely makes himself
decent, more worried for Jimin as he immediately goes to him, his gaze concerned.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Jimin responds, though there’s a slight tremble to his voice that gives him away. “It
didn’t even get close to me.”

“That was some shot,” Ilsung calls impressed, and Jimin is about to feign modesty when Doyun
speaks for him.

“A lucky shot.”

Luck.

As if it’s inconceivable for an omega to be a skilled bowman.

Still, he doesn’t argue, and instead watches as Eun and Hyunjung carry the boar carcass and load it
into the cart.

It’ll feed many, and that’s all that matters.

Though slightly rattled and filled with lingering adrenaline, they continue forward, deeper into the
woods with Yoongi once more leading the way. He’s opted to stay in his wolf form, and Jimin
collects what’s left of his clothes, folds them, and stores them away in the cart on the opposite end
from the dead boar for him.

The forest remains silent, and he still can’t shake the feeling that there are eyes watching,
following his every move. The others feel it too, their tense shoulders and shifting glances say as
much.
Yoongi goes after something, chasing a large hare and snaring it between his teeth. It dies quickly,
and the wolf takes care not to press too hard and spoil the meat as he brings the carcass to Jimin,
offering it up with bright eyes, his pleasant marjoram mint smell clinging to the air. Jimin takes it
with a small smile, Yoongi easily releasing it to him.

“Thank you.”

With that, he trots away, head tilted up as he sniffs the incoming breeze, his ears suddenly perking
before he takes off again.

It goes on like that, the hunting party mostly taking down small game, the boar a lucky find.
Overhead, the sun moves steadily across the sky, its rays of light attempting to pierce through the
thickest parts of the woods and not quite succeeding. It's past midday, and will likely be dark soon
ㅡwinter shortening the days considerablyㅡwhen Yoongi noses at the ground, an excited energy
filling them all at the fresh tracks in the snow he discovers, clearly from a deer.

They follow the grey wolf, ahead of them by at least fifty feet as he hunts. The trees thin again, and
Jimin leads the mare into a clearing, a meadow of sorts that has been blanketed in snow. There’s
something strange marking the pure white of it, dark spots like patchwork interspersed throughout.

Yoongi stops, the hair along his back standing on end. His hackles rise, ears alert, and it's then that
the scent hits Jimin, recognizing what those stains are.

Blood.

There’s a loud snap to their left, and Jimin watches wide-eyed as the deer they’ve been tracking—a
stag of great size—comes sprinting through the trees, it’s short fur matted with the very same
crimson viscous that covers the snow. It stops short, caught between them and where it just
escaped, and it’s hesitation is its downfall.

Something comes tearing after it, large and fast, almost too fast for Jimin to make out. In a second,
the stag goes down, felled expertly by another animal with fur as dark as a moonless night.

It’s a wolf. Bright-eyed and fierce, teeth stained red as it kills its prey quickly, holding onto the
meat of its neck while it stares down the rest of them, unblinking, challenging.

Rogue wolves, Jimin’s mind whispers for the second time, his heart skipping a beat, eyes refusing
to look away.

In the walls of his head and reverberating throughout his ears, his omega lets out a harrowing howl,
almost swearing he can hear a faint response.

All those exaggerated stories and tales he refused to entertain...

They were right. They were right, they were right, THEY WERE RIGHT—

The others move before Jimin fully registers what’s happening. Jaesung, Yoonwoo, Ilsung, Eun,
Jungseo, Hyunjung and Doyun, all in their wolf forms, and all advancing on the dark wolf, even as
Yoongi backs off, and Namjoon puts himself between Jimin and them.

They attack as one, the formation and teamwork of the pack ingrained in them, a lone wolf no
match. Even still, the creature holds his own, putting up a valiant fight from what Jimin can see
over Namjoon’s thick shoulder, bringing yelps of pain from his own packmates, but he can't keep
them at bay for long. Jimin watches as they lash out in turns, giving the animal no reprieve. They
go for the wolf’s legs, his vulnerable underbelly, and even his neck. All the while something twists
inside of Jimin, making bile rise up in his throat like he’s going to be sick, his heart squeezed by an
unknown pressure.

Jimin's omega whimpers.

“Stop,” he breathes, unable to stand the sight of the dark wolf being hurt. He watches as the animal
is overcome, the rogue forced to change, unable to keep its form from the stress and wounds to its
body, fur receding into skin, bone structure morphing. The wolves rally again, going in for what
Jimin knows will be a killing blow.

“STOP!” He screams, the sound of his voice a ringing echo in the sudden quiet, chest heaving as
all eyes; wolf and human alike, look to him.

Jimin moves out from behind Namjoon’s back, trudging through the snow in his desperation to get
to them, even as Namjoon tries to stop him, unable to do so. The wolf—man, now—looks at him
with big, doe-like eyes, bright and dazed, unfocused, almost. His features are striking, soft but
strong, a kind of duality to him that Jimin can't help but be drawn to. His hair is long, the same
raven color as his fur had been, and his skin appears like gold against the snow, marred with the
injuries his pack mates have incurred, blood covering gold.

The closer Jimin gets, the more affected he is by the unknown wolf's scent. An alpha, undoubtedly.
The smell of rut still clings to him, faded enough that it likely only ended maybe a few hours prior,
but Jimin feels viscerally affected by it, a pleasant mixture of Rosemary and something else...

Cloves, perhaps. It causes a longing in him he’s never felt before, his omega practically fighting to
go to the distressed man and soothe him.

Touch him.

Jimin takes another step forward to do just that, the rogue tracking his every move with his
unfathomably intense gaze. This close, it's clear that the skin on both sides of his neck is unmarred,
free of a mating bite, and the sight of that alone sends his omega even deeper into a frenzy.

Need to get closer—

An arm wraps around Jimin's waist, physically picking him up and shoving him behind a broad
back, causing him to recoil. The touch feels invasive and wrong in the face of this new wolf.
Jimin's omega wants to lash out at his guard for keeping them apart, but his eyes are drawn back to
the rogue when a snarling growl leaves him, piercing the quiet. Jimin's skin breaks out in
goosebumps at the sound, spreading throughout his form from his head to his toes. It’s a challenge
directed at Namjoon, body undulating under the weight of the other wolves that still have him
pinned as he seemingly struggles to get to Jimin.

His eyes flash like twin flames, something in his gaze enough to make Jimin shiver with what he
sees.

"Wild," they whisper.

"Feral," they warn.

But even still, Jimin's omega claims something far more dangerous.

Mine.

He's shaken by his wolf's claim, body continuing to tremble at the potential implications of such a
thing, but Jimin ignores it as best as he can, navigating the foginess of his thoughts. He knows he
can't let his pack mates kill the rogue, and no one will agree to releasing him. There's really only
one option.

"Bring him," his unwavering voice rings out in the clearing, stilling the tawny brown alpha that still
has its teeth poised to sink into the man’s neck.

Jimin watches, refusing to appear weak as the rusty-colored wolf he knows to be Doyun shifts back
into his human form. He's naked and covered in wounds, mostly to his torso and legs, and a strange
thrill runs through Jimin as he marks each injury the rogue inflicted, unsure how to process how
pleased his omega is at the sight.
"What are you saying," the alpha demands, attempting to intimidate. "He is a rogue in our territory,
hunting on our land! He must be disposed of."

There is a murmur of agreement amongst the others that have begun to change back, setting Jimin
on edge as he refutes the suggestion.

"Think of the old tales of rogues in the woods. We cannot kill him, we need to know if there are
more," he counters, quick with his words and hoping that his excuses sound plausible. "We'll bring
him to the village to be questioned."

"You would bring this filth into our home?" Doyun spits as the others also voice their concerns.

"But that's just another mouth to feed."

"If there are others this could be a trap."

"There must be more out there."

"He fucking bit my ear—"

"Silence!"

All eyes focus on Namjoon then, his expression enough to make even Jimin feel a little nervous.
"Are you arguing with the pack leader's son and your lord?" The alpha demands, tone furious.

Doyun looks as if he’s seething, shoulders shaking, eyes dangerous. Jimin refuses to look away,
and another thrill runs through him when the enraged alpha finally backs down, the others doing so
as well. Those who hadn't already, change back, and Jimin watches Eun make his way to the cart
before bothering to gather his garments, rummaging through the satchel bags and pulling out a coil
of rope.

They tie the rogue’s hands behind his back, and then his ankles for good measure. All the while his
dark eyes never once leave Jimin's, and Jimin returns the favor, holding the rogue’s gaze, unable to
look away until he’s carried past him, loaded into the cart next to the stag he felled, naked and
bleeding, as if just another casualty of the hunt.

While the others gather their clothes, Jimin's mind races, plotting. He taps Namjoon on the
shoulder before he can talk himself out of it, the alpha turning to him with a raised brow.

“We need to go back home, the light is fading, and the cart is full.”

“I agree,” Namjoon answers with a nod, turning as if about to address the others but stops short
when Jimin speaks again.

“I’m exhausted, I’ll ride in the cart as well.”

His guard turns back to him, eyes wide, expression incredulous.

“Jimin—”
“Check the ropes if you’re worried.”

He doesn't so much as blink when Namjoon levels him with a look of suspicion, keeping his own
expression blank and innocent. With a sigh, the alpha relents, moving to do what Jimin had
suggested as he follows along behind.

The rogue bares his teeth at Namjoon again as he approaches, but doesn’t fight once his gaze lands
on Jimin, remaining still as his bindings are tugged and inspected.

“Keep your distance,” Namjoon orders when he turns back to him. “If he tries anything, put an
arrow between his eyes, understood?”

Jimin nods, even though he knows he will do no such thing.

As instructed, he climbs into the cart and settles on the opposite end, feeling the rogue's gaze like a
physical thing, a caress across his vulnerable skin, not entirely unwelcome. His omega whines at
their proximity, the alpha's scent triggering his own smell of petrichor and polianthes, permeating
the air between them while Jimin takes in the heightened smell of the alpha, fresh from rut.

Inside his leathers, he starts to leak.

Jimin witnesses the way the alpha's nostrils flare, pupils dilating—almost the same pigment as his
iris—before his lids slowly fall closed, chest expanding with the motion of a deep inhale. He gasps
when the rogue opens his eyes once more, red bleeding into them, along with something burning
that looks a lot like carnal desire.

His omega preens.

They’re both jostled when the cart begins to move, Namjoon turning the mare around and heading
back the way they came.

They continue to stare openly at each other, only interrupted when another animal carcass is stored
in the cart with them, Yoongi collecting the fruits of his traps, or finding more easy prey.

Jimin isn’t sure how much time passes, his fascination and intense observation making it possible
to notice that the alpha grimaces with each harsh motion of the cart, hissing when they go over a
fallen branch or divet in the earth. But after a while even that ceases, and he seems to have
difficulty keeping his eyes open, gaze unfocused. When his head tips completely forward and lulls
on his neck, something cold runs through Jimin's veins, caution all but forgotten as he struggles to
get to the man, the uneven terrain throwing off his center of gravity and knocking him off balance.

No one pulls him away while he kneels before the other, likely too busy keeping their focus on the
surrounding woods, in case they’re ambushed by more wolves. Jimin cups the stranger’s cheeks in
his palms, frowning at the iciness of his skin as he lifts the rogue’s head up.

He’s unnaturally pale, breathing uneven and stuttery.

Jimin’s eyes wander down, blushing at the man’s nudity, affected in a way he hadn't been when the
other alphas were bare to his gaze, but quickly forgets about it, horrified when he takes in the
wound on his side, mostly hidden beneath a captive arm. As gently as he can, Jimin shifts the limb
to better inspect the damage, and gasps when he sees the extent. They’re teeth marks, stretched in
this form and bleeding still, obviously deep if his regenerative capabilities haven’t stopped the flow
of it, yet. Beneath him, a pool of blood sinks into the cart’s wood, and Jimin's omega whimpers and
whines, consumed by an inexplicable fear that the rogue will die.

He moves without thinking, lowering himself towards the worst of it and shakily exhales, the
warmth of his breath bringing goosebumps to the rogue's skin. Even in his unconscious state, the
alpha appears to shudder at the sensation, and Jimin steals himself, takes one last look at the man's
soft, lax features, and opens his mouth wide, placing it over one of the angriest looking gashes that
blemish his side. He laps his tongue along the wound, hoping that the healing properties in his
saliva will help coagulate the blood.
Jimin’s eyes nearly roll up in his head when the taste of the alpha enters his mouth, setting off
something almost frightfully primal in him, his carefully constructed control dismantled so easily,
leaving nothing behind but his wolf.

It feels as if he’s been pushed out of his own body, watching on in horrified intrigue as he goes at
the gash in the rogue's side, a broken moan leaving the man's mouth while Jimin continues his
ministrations until there's no longer any blood, the flow of it stopped completely.

When his omega is satisfied, it relinquishes control back to him, and he straightens up quickly, his
hand flattening out over the man's bare chest, counting the beats of his heart as it thumps slowly;
but steadily, beneath his palm. Jimin looks up, frozen when he's met with the now-open eyes of the
alpha, hazy and slightly unfocused, but present. The air is thick between them. Charged, as they
appraise each other warily. Jimin feels like there’s an exchange from the rogue to him, and from
him to the rogue.

Of what, he does not know, but it feels weighted and important.

Slowly, so the alpha can see what he's doing, Jimin reaches underneath his leather brigandine
where the plain white tunic rests below, and stretches the fabric taut. The rogue's eye's narrow
slightly as he watches Jimin pull a dagger free from the sheath hidden near his boot, remaining
surprisingly still, as if waiting to see what he'll do next. Carefully, Jimin cuts into the fabric of his
thick tunic, slicing the material into neat strips, and suppressing a shiver from his exposed skin.

He resheaths the knife and leans forward again, hoping that the alpha doesn’t put up any fuss. A
wounded animal is a dangerous animal, after all. But the rogue lets him do what he pleases,
passively observing while Jimin goes about his task, wrapping up his midsection, in case the
wound starts to bleed again. The only movement he makes, is a deep inhale near Jimin's neck
when he leans further into his body to secure the makeshift bandage, and It brings a flush to his
cheeks while his omega whimpers, wanting nothing more than to scent the alpha as well, the
sudden ache between his legs catching him off guard. Jimin forces himself to move away, instead,
discarding the ruined, unused scraps of his shirt.

He gathers one of the larger furs that Taehyung had supplied, encircling it securely around the
rogue’s shoulders, leaving no part of him exposed to the elements, and hoping some warmth will
soak back into him.
The alpha’s eyes attempt to remain fixed on his form, but flutter and close once more, losing the
battle with his consciousness from the ordeal he’s been put through. Jimin obsessively watches the
dark fur move with the rise and fall of his chest, making sure his heart still beats. When he shows
no signs of worsening, both him and his omega breathe a relieved sigh, relaxing. He rubs along the
rogue's arms and legs, hoping it helps to raise his temperature before forcing himself to go back to
his end of the cart, wanting to avoid being discovered.

Jimin can only pray they make it to the village quickly, that the rogue survives the journey,
wondering what he's managed to get himself into.
 The Great Lodge
Chapter Summary

Jimin knows he's being reckless, and to some he probably appears to be a naive omega
with a death wish, but there's this unshakable belief he has that the rogue won't hurt
him.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for the wonderful response to the first chapter. I know it takes me a while
to update, but I promise I'm not abandoning any of my fics. I only get a small window
each day to write, and unfortunately, I'm very critcal of my writing, so I edit A LOT. I
appreciate you sticking with this, and hope you enjoy.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The rhythmic swaying of the cart induces nausea in Jimin, the smell of the animal carcasses
surrounding him and the rogue’s spilled blood work in tandem to make his stomach churn
uncomfortably. Several times he is sure he’ll lose the meager contents of his stomach, only just
managing to keep everything down by sheer force of will. The last thing he needs is to show any
form of weakness in front of this lot, no matter how small.

The journey back home feels slower, painfully so, and more often than not they find themselves
waylaid as one of the cart’s wheels becomes loose, or the path they traversed before seems to
disappear entirely, the trees too thick to allow easy passage. It feels deliberate, like a trickster has
seen fit to change their surroundings for the purpose of entertaining themselves.

It cultivates a collective paranoia in all of them, widening their eyes and hunching their shoulders
while each of their gazes are drawn to sudden intrusive noises in the quiet, the distinct sound of
whispers echoing around them in harsh accusation, the forest living up to its name. Light is fading
fast, the density of the trees blocking it out like an uninvited guest, the very branches reaching out
for them, snagging on their clothes, inflicting superficial cuts to exposed skin, and even catching at
Jimin’s hair as they ride past.
If Jimin were the superstitious type, he would think that Soksagim itself were a living being, and
very displeased, doing what it can to ensure that they don't make it out. The ominous nature of its
atmosphere has become far more aggressive ever since they took the rogue captive, like it's loath to
let him go. Perhaps the spirit of the woods is enraged by their attempts to steal him away. Or
perhaps the rogue himself is the spirit of the woods…

Jimin shakes his head, blaming his exhaustion and the adrenaline still in his system for the fanciful
musings of his thoughts, wondering why he can entertain sentient woods and forest spirits, but not
the tales of the forgotten wolves. He’s already been proven wrong on that front, it’s best not to
tempt fate.

Jimin holds his breath as the trees become fewer and farther between, anxiety coursing through his
system, body tense, sure that something else is going to go wrong. He waits for it, nerves jittery
and his wolf agitated, but then the trees thin for a final time, and Soksagim is put behind them.

Their entire group breathes a palpable sigh of relief, the air feeling a lot less choked, their guard
relaxing. They let go of their shared fear, a fear that they would never make it out, make it home,
and with the release of that possibility, a light, weightless feeling takes hold.

Jimin looks up towards the now visible grey sky, following the shape of Hogok mountain, a gasp
leaving him when his gaze lands on the village just on the horizon, the slowly sinking sun lighting
its silhouette, hitting it just right to make it appear as if it were set aflame, the mirage a welcome
sight.

But it is also a reminder of what he is about to bring beyond the gates.

Jimin crawls towards the rogue again, and as gently as possible, lowers the still unconscious alpha
to lay on his uninjured side, sweeping the long raven locks away from his face, surprised at how
soft the strands are, with a penchant to curl at the ends.
“Almost there,” he whispers to him, losing himself in the flawlessness of the unknown man’s
features.

When the cart jolts again, it effectively snaps Jimin out of his trance, hands retracting. He moves
quickly, pulling another fur towards him and using it to cover the rogue completely, leaving
nothing of him exposed to the open air. He’s already sworn the other wolves to secrecy, citing that
the village doesn’t need to be thrown into a panic, not when they’re already spread so thin. Though
he’s well aware that it’s only a matter of time before someone lets something slip, accidentally or
with intent, and then word will spread like wildfire through dry brush.

He’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. He just needs time to work everything out.

Jimin tenses when they pass the woodcutters, packing up to leave for the day with the dwindling
light. They cheer jovially as the cart goes by, taking in the spoils of a successful hunt. Jimin holds
the fur protectively over the rogue, knuckles white from the tightness of his grip, and silently sends
a prayer to the gods that no one discovers him. A request made more difficult by his potent smell,
its effects still wreaking havoc on Jimin’s own ability to think clearly.

They receive the same welcome when they finally pass the gates and enter the village, cheers and
relief an obvious staple in their packmate’s expressions, bringing guilt to Jimin at what he’s so
desperately trying to hide.

Their pace slows further, anxiety causing Jimin to shake as everyone wants to stop them and hear
tales of the hunt. Namjoon remains calm but curt, and denies them gently, promising to recount the
day's events at a later time.

It begins to snow when they finally make it up to the Great Lodge, tiny flakes melting just as soon
as they land, but it’ll pick up soon, and stick. Namjoon leads Bongcha to the side entrance where
the kitchens reside, bringing the cart to a jerky stop, Jimin nearly losing his balance once more.
With a nod of the alpha’s head, Yoongi returns the gesture and makes his way inside, having
changed back into his human form, barely clothed, with dried blood decorating his mouth, neck
and torso.

He strikes an imposing figure, and will definitely be the topic of gossip and rumors.
Jimin waits with apprehension as Yoongi disappears inside, clearing the way of staff and guards, as
well as any other lingerers that could potentially witness what they’re about to attempt. He returns
less than five minutes later, nodding once more at Namjoon, who then addresses the other alphas
gathered.

“Unload the cart, and remember, speak of this to no one.”

Once they all give terse affirmations, Namjoon and Yoongi climb up into the cart with him, both
taking one end of the fur Jimin wrapped around the rogue’s body and lifting, motioning for him to
lead the way. The kitchens are deserted, food left in various stages of preparation on the wooden
counters. Jimin moves light on his feet, stealing into the hall and making sure it is abandoned as
well. When his sensitive hearing picks up nothing he turns back, urging Namjoon and Yoongi to
follow. They take the stairs designated for the staff two at a time, their exerted breaths echoing in
the silence around them.

Somehow, they don’t run into a single soul, and Jimin internally rejoices, leading the alphas up to
the fourth floor, and to a spare bedroom that neighbors his own. Ignoring the look of disapproval
Namjoon gives him, he pushes the door open and quickly ushers them inside, shivering at the lack
of warmth, the space in disuse for some time.

When the rogue is set gently on the large bed, Jimin rushes over, finally removing the outer fur
that covers him. His omega sighs in relief as he tracks the rise and fall of his broad chest, eyes still
closed and face smooth in sleep.

“Thank you,” Jimin whispers after turning back towards the two soldiers, addressing them both
with his gratitude before shifting his gaze to the smaller. “Yoongi, will you please bring Hoseok to
me?”

Yoongi nods, disappearing out of the room at once, taking care to shut the door behind him.
Namjoon waits until he gets a fire going, finding a supply of wood next to the hearth and putting it
to use, the flames high when he finally voices his grievances.
“Where is your head at right now? What were you thinking?”

Jimin was expecting these questions, but he still doesn’t have any answers.

“What was I supposed to do, let them kill him? He did nothing wrong—”

“He’s a rogue in our territory.”

“That shouldn’t warrant a death sentence.”

“But being a prisoner for the rest of his days is better? You’ve brought him into our home, Jimin.
He can never leave now, you know that. Do you think that’s what he would want? That he would
thank you for your mercy?”

His throat aches suddenly, like a lump has formed the way it sometimes does when he cries, and
Jimin takes in a stuttering breath, eyeing Namjoon in shock as something in his stomach twists. He
squares his shoulders then, and meets the alpha’s gaze head on, not lacking in his own conviction.

“I will never apologize for choosing mercy over murder, not to you, or to anyone who resents my
decisions. Even those I save from such a fate. At least my conscience is clear.”

Namjoon appears torn, a weary sigh leaving him just as his shoulders slightly deflate, and Jimin
knows him well enough to recognize that he's fighting the urge to pace. A bad habit of his that
manifests when he's stressed.

“He won’t remain a secret for long. You cannot count on those men to keep quiet about it. The
pack will demand answers, and their faith in your leadership will undoubtedly come into question
when they learn it was you who spared him and brought him here, and then kept it from them. That
is the last thing I want to see happen,” he softly assures. “With your father ill, and whether we like
it or not, because of your status as an omega, people will be easily swayed to find fault in you,
especially if things do not run smoothly. When they learn of him; and they will learn of him, they’ll
want answers on what’s to be done,” he finishes, motioning towards the still-sleeping rogue.

Jimin sighs, wrapping one arm across his torso to clutch the hip on the opposite side while his
other hand grips his shoulder, closing himself off, cold from his ruined tunic.

“What would they want to hear? That he’s chained up in a holding cell?”

“They might take that better than him rooming next to the head alpha’s omega son.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and looks out the row of windows, the sunlight getting fainter and fainter, but
he can still make out the view. It’s the same as the one in his own room, Soksagim becoming far
more menacing as dark approaches.

And yet he can't look away.

“We’ve grown up on stories about the wolves in the woods. It’s clear now that their origin is
rooted in truth. Perhaps there was contact made in the past that started the tales,” he whispers
quietly, gaze sliding over to the sleeping alpha. “There must be more of them out there, and would
they not want him back? All this time we’ve coexisted peacefully. I’ve not heard of any rogues
attempting to tear down the village gates, and our own have made it a point to never venture too
deep into the forest, until today. We can speculate about their numbers, their intentions, but we’ll
never know for sure. He can tell us. He can answer all those questions.”

They both stare at the unknown wolf, Namjoon’s face contemplative, while Jimin attempts to mask
the nervousness he feels, hoping the excuses he gives are convincing enough.

They both jump when the door bursts open, Jung Hoseok entering with his overstuffed bag of
supplies, Yoongi following just behind and sealing the room shut. The beta comes further in, gaze
fixed on the bed in disbelief, his grip tightening on the tanned leather of his satchel.

“Gods, you really were telling the truth,” he mutters, his fraser fir scent spiking slightly.

“Why would I Iie?” Yoongi asks in confusion, frowning when Hoseok shushes him and continues
to stare.

“My lord,” he says as an afterthought, barely sparing Jimin a glance, gaze glued to the unconscious
alpha. “Was he alone?”

“He was.”

“And the injury is where?”

“His right side.”

The healer dons his spectacles, making his eyes look almost comically magnified. He then
approaches the rogue, seemingly anxious and giddy at once.

Jimin watches, his wolf agitated again as the beta shifts the fur the alpha is wrapped in, baring him
to his midsection. He then pulls out some shears from his bag and gets to work on cutting through
the bandage strips Jimin had fashioned, meticulously unwrapping them, careful when they start to
stick around the wound.

Once the injury is revealed, he hums to himself, leaning in close to the marred skin that looks far
better than it did before, in Jimin’s opinion. Gently, the healer pulls and pokes at the flesh, and all
the while, Jimin watches the rogue’s face for any discernible changes in expression, and sees
none.

“Well?" Namjoon asks, sounding bored. “Is he going to live?”

Hoseok is still conducting his examination, eyes blinking owlishly as he does, remaining
stubbornly quiet until he concludes his appraisal and straightens back up again.

“Was this the worst of it?” he questions, eyeing the rest of the scratches and superficial marks that
cover the rogue’s arms, and chest.

“It is,” Jimin answers.

“It’s healing. Slowly, but still. His color isn’t too good, though. How much blood would you say he
lost?”

“A pint, maybe more.”

Hoseok tuts in disapproval, digging through his bag again.

“Have to do something about that. How long was he unconscious?”

The way the question is worded brings a frown to Jimin's features.

“In and out for three hours.”

The healer nods, eyeing the wound once more as he pulls out what looks to be a magnifying glass,
placing it over his already magnified spectacles, and studies each tear in skin, humming every now
and then, or muttering something under his breath.

“He’ll make it,” Hoseok finally assures, straightening and packing away his effects. “Though I do
recommend a thorough cleaning of the area. There’s dirt and other debris in and around the injury
that will breed infection if left. And he’ll need food to replenish the blood he’s lost so he can regain
his strength. Fish, red meat, eggs. All good things to speed up the healing process.”

Jimin doesn’t need to see Namjoon’s expression to know what he’s thinking. If the rest of the pack
gets word of this, they won’t be pleased. Special treatment for an intruder in their territory when
they barely have enough to feed their own would likely be met with rebellion.

Just another mouth to feed.

It’ll be fine. Jimin is no stranger to giving away his portions to others in need, now won’t be any
different. He pushes down his initial trepidation and gives Hoseok a grateful smile.

“Thank you for your valuable time.”

“My lord,” the beta addresses, a pointedness to his gaze. “Would you accompany me out into the
hall? I’d like to update you on your father’s progress, in private.”

“Of course,” Jimin answers smoothly, even though he knows it to be a lie. Haneul is the one
overseeing his father’s care.

They leave behind the room and its three alphas, moving a ways away from the door so as not to be
overheard. Once alone, he drops the formalities, and Jimin sighs in relief when his old friend
clasps his hands in his own calloused ones and meets his gaze.

“I’m sorry to drag you out on false pretenses, but there seems to be some hostility in regards to our
guest.”

“How could you tell?” Jimin snorts, shaking his head at the ground. He’ll worry about Namjoon’s
disapproval later.

“I assume it was you who fashioned the bandages,” Hoseok guesses, eyeing Jimin’s torn tunic and
exposed midriff under his leathers.

“It was. I tried to do it just like you showed me.”

“You did very well, but tell me, are you the one who will oversee his care, or is someone else
going to take on that task?”

Jimin’s mouth falls open, not at all prepared for the question. Namjoon won’t be too happy about
it, but there’s only one correct answer.

“He’s my responsibility.”

“I see, you will need these, then.”

Hoseok gently releases his hands, and Jimin watches him dig through his satchel once more,
producing medical grade bandages, a bottle filled with clear liquid, as well as what looks to be a
salve in a plain glass jar.
“Once the wound has been washed, pour a bit of this over it,” Hoseok instructs, handing him the
clear bottle. “It’ll sting, so fair warning. When dry, coat the area in this,” he adds, passing the jar
over to Jimin next. “Then wrap the wound with these,” he finishes, handing off the bandages last.
“Do this twice, daily. Once in the morning and once in the evening. With the way he is healing, I
think three days of this routine should suffice.”

Jimin nods solemnly, holding the items close to his chest when Hoseok poses another question.

“How was he the first time you bandaged him? Was he still awake or unconscious?”

“He was awake,” Jimin admits.

“And he did not fight you?”

“No.”

“Interesting,” the beta mutters, staring off at a point down the hall.

Jimin waits another moment for him to elaborate before pressing the issue.

“What’s interesting?”

Hoseok shakes himself out of his daze and aims his wide eyes at him.

“I find it interesting that he allowed you to help him. Just as he allowed me to examine him."
Jimin stares at the healer, confused by his words.

“What do you mean he allowed you? He sleeps.”

Hoseok blinks at him again, giving a shake of his head.

“He does not, he merely pretends to be. He was awake during my entire examination.”

Jimin’s mouth falls open, his mind trying to process what he’s just been told. He watched the
man’s face when Hoseok prodded at his injury, and there was no reaction, he didn’t move a single
muscle. Still, Hoseok’s judgement has never been wrong before.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Very skilled mimicry, but I can tell the difference. That’s what’s so interesting, isn’t it?
Both you and I were close enough that he could have caused quite a bit of damage to our person,
but he did not.”

"Just because he's a rogue it doesn't make him prone to violence."

"Of course not, but being someone's captive doesn't exactly necessitate peace."

Jimin let's those words sink in and releases a sigh.

“You're right. Why do you think he feigns sleep?”

“I cannot claim to understand how his mind works, and you probably suspect the same, but if I
were in his position, I would try to learn everything I could about my captors. We tend to reveal
more when we think no one is listening.”

Jimin nods at the explanation, carefully shifting everything in his arms and giving Hoseok’s hand a
squeeze, inhaling his pleasant fraser fir scent and allowing it to set his nerves at ease.

“Thank you again for giving me your valuable time. How does the rest of the village fair?”

Hoseok seems to collapse in on himself at the question, removing his spectacles and wiping at the
glass with a handkerchief he pulls from his pocket.

“Over a dozen sick, so far, not including your father. All with a variation of the same symptoms, all
in various stages, though none so affected as the high alpha.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“All any of us can do is wait, and pray that this passes.”

Jimin nods, eyeing the items in his arms and hopes he's not taking them from others in need.

“Thank you, my friend. I won’t keep you any longer, but please, speak of this to no one.”

Hoseok inclines his head and moves to take his leave.

“When it comes to my patients, I’m a firm believer in discretion.”

The corners of Jimin’s lips tick up in a smile as he watches his friend go, his gaze drifting over to
the windows that line the hall. Outside, darkness is settling over the village, and they’ll begin
lighting the torches soon. It’s still snowing, the flakes sticking to the glass and remaining, a sign
that the temperature is dropping as the sun gives way to the moon. Jimin breathes in the chill of the
air, lets it settle him, and then hastily makes his way to his own chambers.

Approaching his bed, he sets down the items that Hoseok entrusted to him, lining them up neatly
against the furs. His shoulder chooses that moment to give a sharp twinge, and with a hiss, he
pushes his cloak back and away, carefully removing his bow in order to hang it up on the hook
protruding from the stone wall near his door, moving the sore muscle in circles to help loosen it.

The rogue will need to be washed and fitted for garments, but until he can be properly measured
and given a new wardrobe, he’ll require something to wear. Jimin’s cheeks flush and he stops dead
in his tracks as the thought of the alpha nude drifts unbidden in his mind. He didn’t get to see much
before, since everything was so overwhelming and chaotic, but what he did see was...impressive...

He shakes his head at such distractions, trying to regain his train of thought…

Clothes!

Right.

Until new clothing can be fashioned for him, he’ll have to borrow from others. But the idea of him
in someone else’s garments has Jimin’s omega baring its teeth, and though he knows they’ll be
small, he searches through his own wardrobe and chest of drawers, grabbing a black tunic that
hangs loosely on his form, along with matching breeches.
Once he has suitable attire, he gathers his favorite comb, his sweet-scented oils and soaps, as well
as two large terry-cloth linens, laying them all out carefully on his bed next to the medical supplies.
Jimin looks over everything critically, checking each item off of a mental list and then hastily
grabs one of the large cloths to take with him, making his way back to the other room and rushing
inside. He purposely avoids glancing in the direction of the bed, and instead addresses Namjoon,
still in the exact place he was before.

“I need men guarding the door. Men you trust. I won’t keep him bound any longer than necessary.
Make sure they can be discrete.”

"What do you mean you don’t want to keep him bound? You would leave him to his own devices?
In the room adjacent to yours? You think that's wise?”

Jimin resists the urge to groan, only just managing to hold his tongue against the desire to order the
alpha to stop questioning him and do as he says, nerves frazzled and his patience depleted.

“That would be what the men guarding the door are for,” Jimin reminds him with a raised brow,
tone almost scathing.

“He will try to escape.”

“I’m sure the men you pick will be made aware of that possibility, and will be more than capable
of preventing such from happening,” Jimin assures.

Something flashes in Namjoon’s eyes that looks a lot like doubt, while Yoongi shifts from foot to
foot, and it’s easy to guess what must be the cause. All three of them witnessed what happened in
that meadow in Soksagim today. They saw first hand how the rogue took on seven wolves,
inflicting an impressive amount of injuries to his opponents in such a short time, able to hold his
own for a lot longer than most when going up against such numbers, the odds not in his favor. Still,
Jimin needs him to go, before Namjoon and his keen eye for detail notice that the rogue is actually
awake.
“He’s injured and lost a lot of blood. He’ll need time to heal and regain his strength. I doubt you’ll
have anything to worry about until then, now please?”

“You want me to go now?” Namjoon asks incredulously, his gaze flying to the rogue.

Jimin doesn’t want him to look too closely.

“Would you like to check the ropes again? He’s asleep, Namjoon, but he won’t be forever.”

Namjoon looks torn, his eyes shifting between them as he goes through one of his many internal
debates. Finally, he concedes, throwing a pointed look Yoongi’s way, taking part in some silent
conversation before he reluctantly exits the room. Jimin fidgets, studying the other guard's stoic
expression, and tries to wait as long as he can, but in the end his impatience and eagerness get the
better of him.

“I need you to find one of the staff and ask that they draw a bath in my room.”

The alpha’s mouth opens, clearly not expecting the request.

“You wish to bathe now, my lord?”

Jimin shakes his head, somewhat endeared at how confused he appears. Yoongi has always
seemed so nervous about potentially offending him.

“It’s not for me, but for him,” Jimin answers, inclining his head towards the bed. “When Namjoon
and the men he’s chosen return, have them empty the hall and guard the passage. Then send
Namjoon to me.”
Yoongi appears as if he wants to question the order, clearly uncomfortable with leaving Jimin
alone with their captive, but it's obvious he does not want to disobey an command from his lord. He
stares at the wolf and to Jimin’s relief, his sense of duty wins out, Yoongi bowing his head with an
almost imperceptible sigh before exiting the room.

Jimin’s heart races in his chest, eyes landing on the still “sleeping” alpha, futily attempting to
gather his wits as his body betrays his control and starts to tremble, hands gone clammy.

His omega is a mess.

Slowly, he approaches the bed, steps forcefully even while he tries to control his breathing and
rapid pulse.

They are truly alone.

Jimin sits on the edge of the mattress, keeping at least some distance between them, and stares at
the rise and fall of the stranger’s chest, bare from where Hoseok observed his wounds, the sinewy
muscle doing the utmost to try and distract him.

Jimin shakes his head and speaks.

“You do not have to pretend any longer,” he softly declares. “I know you are awake.”

For a moment, there is nothing.

Then, those same doe-eyes from before flutter open, long lashes caressing the tops of his cheeks.
Those irises; with the familiar intensity Jimin remembers in a shade as dark as night, zero in on
him, and he isn’t sure if he sees accusation or intrigue.

For a while, they appraise one another, inquisitive. Assessing. Jimin doesn’t know what to say.
After all, what is there to offer to the one you’ve forcibly taken prisoner? Honestly, a part of him is
surprised the alpha hasn't lunged at him yet, tied up or not.

Jimin takes in a deep, stuttering inhale, a shiver tip-toeing up his spine as the addicting scent of
rosemary and cloves fills his senses, sweetened by a fading rut. Desperately, he tries to keep a
reign on his omega's response to that delectable aroma and addresses him again.

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” he starts off quietly, gaining confidence as he goes, “but I am
deeply sorry for what has happened to you today. For what my pack has done. I couldn’t watch
them kill you, though being held captive against your will isn’t much better,” he rambles, trying to
surreptitiously gage the rogue’s reaction.

The alpha only blinks slowly, that gaze piercing as he makes no effort to respond, and Jimin feels
his cheeks flush pink. It’s quiet for several long minutes, neither one of them so much as moving,
with Jimin taking the time to once again study the man’s features, getting lost in the details of him.

Has he ever seen someone with eyes so big, appearing innocent and young? Jimin doesn't think so.
It clashes with the dried blood around his lips, painting them an earthy color that was once a
vibrant crimson, his wild contenance enough to instill fear in others.

Not in Jimin, though, his omega practically mewls in approval, bringing another unsubtle flush to
his cheeks that the rogue's eyes seem to follow.

When the man continues to remain silent, he tries a different tactic.

“I’m Park Jimin, son of the head alpha and leader of the Park pack.”

Nothing.

The rogue’s gaze penetrates him, as if able to see his innermost parts, the parts he keeps secret,
even from himself. It is both unnerving and absolutely thrilling, but the continued silence has Jimin
rushing to fill it.

"I’ve arranged for a bath to be drawn for you. Your wound needs to be cleaned, and um, since
you’re my responsibility...I’m going to...help you.”

That doesn’t sound very hospitable. Jimin’s wolf paces in agitation, almost desperate for
acknowledgement at this stage, and he frowns at the behaviour, even if it cannot be seen.

"Of course, if you would prefer someone else, that's perfectly fine. A beta, perhaps? Or another
alpha? I know you probably don't want anyone's help, but leaving you unattended isn’t exactly
possible right now.”

Again, nothing.

“I’m going to assume that means you don’t mind my assistance.”

The rogue merely blinks, and Jimin traces the large, dark purple spheres that decorate the lids of
his eyes with his own, skin no longer gold, but pallid. It’s a testament to how much he’s endured,
how near death he was, and something unpleasant burrows in the pit of Jimin’s stomach at the
thought, ugly and terrified.

It physically hurts to consider, but Jimin is immediately soothed by the intensifying scent of
rosemary and cloves, and it must be disconcerting for the alpha to be so fresh off rut and forced
away from the comforts of his own territory—

His brow furrows, mind racing, when a sudden thought enters his head, refusing to leave.

“Was that you I heard in the middle of the night? Howling?”

Something finally sparks in the alpha’s gaze, a barely perceptible widening of the lids before his
expression smoothes out again.

“It was, wasn’t it? You sounded lost, and distraught, like you were looking for someone. Your rut
just ended, did something happen?”

The rogue’s lips part, revealing blood that stains the whites of his teeth as well, and Jimin
anticipates the sound of his voice, like a wolf howl formed around words, but it’s short-lived.

The door creaks open revealing Namjoon, followed immediately by Yoongi, and with their arrival
the rogue once again adopts his mask of indifference.

Namjoon appears livid, eyeing Jimin’s position on the bed with a weary sigh.

“My men are stationed at both ends of the hall. No one will get past them without your
permission,” he informs, rubbing his brow in a familiar motion.
“The bath is ready, my lord,” Yoongi reports after, finally drawing Jimin’s attention away from the
other alpha.

“Thank you both. Bring him to my chambers, please.”

“Your chambers? Why must he be in your chambers while you bathe?” Namjoon sputters, and
again Jimin calls on his dwindling reserve of patience.

“The bath is for him,” he explains simply.

“Why didn’t you have them fill it in here?”

“Then the staff would have seen him, and the entire village would know by morning."

"We could've hidden him."

Jimin knows Namjoon is overprotective, and he has good reason to be, but now it's clouding his
judgement.

"It would still incite gossip about who could suddenly be staying in the room next to mine. I think
not.”

“My men could carry the tub from your room to this one.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll only spill all the bathwater on the ground.”

Namjoon looks as if he wants to protest more, but Jimin doesn’t give him the chance, rising
gracefully from the bed and passing the linen off to him as he heads for the door.

“Wrap that around his waist and bring him, please.”

He makes his way back to his room first, a large wooden tub already placed in the center and a fire
going, chasing away the chill. Jimin grabs one of his milder-smelling soaps as well as a vial of oil,
removing his long fur cloak as he goes, better able to kneel down beside the tub without it. He
looks down suddenly, the frigid air a reminder that the bared skin of his midriff is on display,
thanks to his ruined tunic. It's deemed as unimportant in that moment, the fire enough to keep him
warm. Steam rises invitingly off the surface of the bath, and Jimin pours in some lavender scented
oil, circulating it with his hand.

Namjoon and Yoongi half drag, half carry the restrained rogue into the room moments later, his
lower half wrapped up in the cloth Jimin provided. Wolves have little need for modesty, but this
already feels beyond invasive, and whatever comfort he can offer the alpha, he’ll gladly provide it.

Namjoon takes one look at his position on the ground next to the tub and shakes his head
adamantly, jostling the rogue.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Jimin sighs over this new argument and dips his fingers in the water again, humming at the
warmth.

“Someone has to clean his wound.”

“We will.”

Between the two, the rogue starts growling menacingly, and Jimin can’t help but smile in relief
that he did not receive the same reaction when he offered his own help.

“He doesn’t appear to like that idea.”

“I care not for his preferences.”

“I do. Now bring him here so I can untie his hands, please.”

“You want to untie his hands while you'll be within reaching distance?”

“What do you think he’s going to do, drown me? I doubt he’d have enough time before you two got
involved.”

“He could snap your neck before we have a chance to do anything,” Yoongi mutters absently,
shrugging at the looks he receives from all of them. "It's true."

Jimin puckers his lips and blows the wayward hair out of his eyes.

“Stop giving him ideas,” he complains, nodding towards the still-silent rogue, his eyes trained back
on Jimin, practically burning a hole in him with his unwavering gaze. “We'll keep his ankles tied
for now and you both can stand just behind me, I’m sure that’ll be enough of a deterrent.”

Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi look convinced, but they seem to realize there’s no swaying Jimin's
decision, and can’t very well refuse. They bring him to the center of the room, lifting and then
lowering him carefully in the bath first, the hot water rising to the top with the addition of the
wolf’s mass. Jimin watches carefully for any signs of discomfort, but on the outside; at least, the
rogue remains impassive.

Yoongi and Namjoon silently direct him to lean forward in the tub, better displaying his bound
wrists, and Jimin maneuvers himself closer, producing the dagger from the sheath near his boot
and making a clean cut through the ropes, dropping them outside the bath, the three of them on
their guard when his hands are freed.

Despite his defense of the man, Jimin expects a fight similar to what they saw in the woods. He
expects bared teeth, a mess of bathwater, an attempt at escape, a struggle, something. What he
doesn’t expect is for the rogue to calmly lean back against the tub, shoulders relaxing as his left
hand moves to massage the marked skin of his right wrist. He seems completely at ease, save for
his eyes, which remain wide and alert, watching them.

Jimin lets out a shaky exhale when a minute passes and nothing happens, but unlike the rogue, he
isn’t able to relax or feign the sentiment.

“Here,” he says quietly, offering the soap he picked out earlier.

Something like surprise flits across the alpha’s expression before it disappears quickly, but he
makes no move to take it.

“You need to wash that so it doesn’t get infected,” Jimin explains, nodding towards the red, angry-
looking wound on the alpha’s side.

The rogue stares at the soap a minute longer, then hesitantly reaches for it, a slight tremor in his
hand. His grip is weak when he grasps it, and Jimin watches as the bar slips out of his hold and into
the bath water with a small ‘plop.’ He retrieves it easily enough, but when he tries to lather his
hands, his entire body shakes with the effort, sweat appearing on his brow, his arm constantly
brushing against his side and making him wince ever-so-slightly. When his gaze finds Jimin’s
again, he can see the war that rages in him, no doubt too proud to want to ask anything of his
captors.

Still, it’s in Jimin’s nature to want to take care of those that need it.

“You lost a lot of blood. It'll take a while to regain your strength. I can help you,” he offers gently,
quietly, “but only if you want me to. One way or another, your wound needs to be cleaned, and if
you don’t want anyone touching you, that’s fine. We can wait as long as it takes until you’re able
to do it yourself, if that’s what you’re more comfortable with.”

The rogue frowns at him, as if Jimin is a particularly hard puzzle to solve. A frustrating enigma
that doesn’t make sense.

Jimin feels the same about him.

“Would you like me to help you?”

The silence that follows feels heavier this time.

“Does he not speak?” Namjoon questions absently, and Jimin fights back a sigh, pushing away his
disappointment.

He’s not sure why he hoped for a different outcome. After all, if their positions were reversed,
Jimin would be far less accommodating. He shifts on his knees, the stone floor unforgiving as he
tries to get comfortable and settle in for however long this endeavor will take. When he goes to
move again, his gaze snaps up in surprise, eyes fixed on the bar of soap that’s being held out in
offering to him. Jimin follows the length of that arm and meets the rogue’s eyes, flooded with relief
when the man gives a clipped nod and shakes the soap in answer.
With another stuttering breath, Jimin takes it and gives a tiny nod back, hating how nervous he
feels all of a sudden. He pushes the feeling down, and instead shifts again to lean over the lip of the
tub, working the soap to a lather between his hands. He meets the alpha’s gaze once more, hovering
above the bite mark on his side before he moves in further and touches him.

He's warm and hard all over, yet soft at the same time. Jimin tries to focus, but his omega makes it
unnecessarily difficult as he works to remove the blood that has long since dried. The rogue
remains still throughout the whole process, but Jimin has his skin beneath his hands now, and he
can feel every tiny jump, every spasm in the muscles with each pass, the way his ribs tighten after
each inhale. Even if he shows no outward reaction, Jimin can still tell he is not as unaffected as he
wishes to appear.

It must be painful.

He gives it a thorough cleaning, and once he’s finished he washes it again, just to be safe.

“Can I?” Jimin asks, holding up a cloth and motioning towards his own face. “You have blood
around your mouth.”

The rogue seems to consider it before giving another nod in wordless answer.

Jimin can feel Namjoon and Yoongi quietly watching, remaining alert as he gently scrubs away the
smeared stains on; and around, the alpha’s lips, taking note of the tiny mole revealed just beneath
the plump bottom one. There’s still a stubborn spot near the corner of his mouth, and Jimin doesn’t
think as he wets his thumb and rubs at it until he smoothes it away, the alpha’s chest seeming to
shudder with his sharp inhale.

“Here,” Jimin says, desperate not to acknowledge the action, nor the attention he’s receiving.
Instead, he wets another cloth in the bucket of clean hot water next to the tub, coating it in tooth
powder that’s laced with the pleasant scent of peppermint. “You have blood on your teeth as well.”
The rogue still doesn’t respond, but he does tentatively take the cloth, meticulously cleaning his
teeth with it even as a slight tremor runs through his hands, clearly exhausted.

“May I wash your hair?”

The rogue stills, gazing up at Jimin from beneath hooded lids before sliding up just behind him,
that stare shooting daggers Namjoon’s way when he gives an impatient huff.

"We don't have to wash it right now if you don't want to," Jimin rushes to reassure, pointedly
ignoring the others.

Those piercing eyes return to him, the rogue's expression softening ever so slightly. Again; to
Jimin’s surprise, he nods in agreement and sits up to allow easier access, silently finishing cleaning
his teeth and discarding the now red cloth.

Once given permission, Jimin stands, collecting the empty pitcher on his bedside table and dips it
in the clean warm water of the bucket until it's full. Carefully, he tilts the man’s head back,
unintentionally making him bare his throat to him as he pours the water through the inky black
strands of his hair, further darkening the shade of it. Jimin does it once more, making sure that the
entirety of it is drenched. He picks a vial of creme-colored soap, the fragrance of this one also mild,
and imbued with the same polianthes flowers that make up part of Jimin's own scent.

When he pours out a handful of the liquid into his palm and begins to lightly massage it through
the rogue’s hair, he watches his reaction to the scent, the way a shiver seems to travel down the
length of his spine, the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath the terry-cloth glued to them, the
bulge of his cock prominent beneath. Jimin forces himself to look elsewhere, somewhere safer, his
gaze shifting to the rogue's hands that tightly grip into the lip of the tub, defining the veins and
tendons in his arms. He doesn’t want to think about what it could mean, this visceral reaction, nor
does he want to look into his own physical response to the alpha, let alone his omega's. Instead, he
focuses on meticulously cleaning the man’s hair, which is thick and silky to the touch.

He goes willingly when Jimin urges him to lean his head back again, and just as carefully as the
first time, he rinses the suds from his hair, determined not to get any soap in his eyes.

“All finished,” Jimin quietly informs him after carefully wringing out the strands, grimacing while
he watches the alpha struggle to stand before begrudgingly giving up.

Namjoon and Yoongi move forward, lifting him upright in the tub, water stained a muted red from
the dried blood washed away from his injury. Jimin pours the remainder of the clean water that is
left in the bucket over glistening skin, then wraps the alpha in a dry linen, trying not to blush when
he hears the wet one that covered his modesty hit the water with another loud 'plop.' He takes a
smaller cloth and uses it to cover the alpha's long hair, rubbing it between his hands to assist in the
drying process and avoid dripping from the long ends. Once finished, the black strands fall down
his back, damp and weighted but still trying to curl.

Jimin motions to Namjoon and Yoongi, and together, they lift the captive alpha from the tub
completely, following Jimin's instructions and lowering him carefully onto the soft fur rug in front
of the roaring fire just before Jimin’s favorite armchair. When he remains cooperative, Jimin
moves towards his bed, gathering the supplies he’ll need and making his way back to the others,
depositing everything next to the rogue. Their eyes meet after he inspects the items, the alpha's
gaze lowering once more, only this time they do so in order to slowly take in his bare midsection,
and Jimin is filled with a nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach at the attention, coupled with a
self-consciousness he hasn't experienced in some time over that heated gaze.

“I-I’m going to free your legs, then I’ll tend to your wound, okay?”

The alpha blinks back up at him, not quite able to remain as apathetic as he’d probably like,
something akin to interest flashing in his expression.

Again, he is given a short, delayed nod.

“Please stay still,” Jimin nearly begs, once more pulling his dagger free, the man watching his
every move like a predator taking note.
In one swift, practised move, Jimin severs the ropes that bind his ankles, prepared like the alphas
behind him for any attempts of escape or struggle, but just as with his hands before, he simply
remains put, eyeing the marks that marr his flesh where the hemp chaffed. There’s a tremor in
Jimin’s own hands when he resheaths the blade, getting it under control just as he grabs the clear
bottle Hoseok had given him. They both wince when he uncaps it, the strong scent assaulting their
sensitive noses, sharp and unpleasant.

“I was told this would sting,” he warns, waiting for something from the man, but he merely returns
his stare and waits.

Jimin nods to himself, mentally preparing, and as carefully as he can, pours the liquid over the bite,
making sure every part of it is covered. Together they watch as it fizzes and bubbles when it makes
contact with the skin, but other than the muscles in his side visibly jumping, the rogue doesn’t
make so much as a sound. Jimin looks at him before looking back down at the marks, letting it sit
for a minute, then he carefully wipes away the dripping excess with a clean cloth.

Next, he uncaps the salve, relief flooding him at the more soothing aroma it gives off, recognizing
eucalyptus and capsaicin, among others.

“This will help with the pain,” he murmurs, gathering a decent amount on the tips of his fingers
and meeting the rogue’s gaze once more before moving to touch him. They stare at each other for a
moment, the alpha giving a barely imperceptible incline of his head, and it is only then that he
makes contact.

Jimin spreads the thick salve over the wound, covering every inch, hoping that it starts to numb
quickly. He finishes and then moves on to each of his wrists, as well as his ankles, rubbing the
salve into the skin, disliking the way they have begun to deeply bruise, not wanting them to be a
source of pain, even if his enhanced healing capabilities will do away with them quickly. Once
finished with that task, he uses the cloth from before to wipe his hands clean, reaching for the
bandages next. Attempting to concentrate, he ignores the way the rogue burns holes into him with
his gaze, or how he can feel both Namjoon and Yoongi tense behind him, prepared for the worst.

Jimin ignores it all, moving in as he uncoils the thick material of the fresh bandages Hoseok gave
him and begins. He has to get even closer than before, receiving the cloth as it loops around the
rogue's tiny waist, and each time their skin nearly brushes Jimin holds his breath in anticipation,
framing the the other's back in a strange imitation of an embrace while he attempts to once again
wrap up his torso.

It's a harrowing experience, the man's bare chest before him, nearly caressing his cheek each time
Jimin pulls the end of the material taut, the overpowering scent of him setting off his omega, who
in turn is more than receptive, doing everything it can to respond in kind, his own scent thickening.
It's embarrassing, made worse by the two alphas a few feet away who will undoubtedly be able to
work out what's happening. For that reason, Jimin finishes as quickly as he can, practically jumping
away from the man like a skittish deer in an effort to put space between them.

He doesn’t look at the rogue as he gathers everything up in his arms and stands, placing the
medical supplies on the chest of drawers near his bed, and leaving the wet towel and rags in the
tub, which the staff will come and collect to be washed by the end of the night.

“I’ll leave the room so they can help you get dressed,” he offers, lips parting in shock when a
rumbling, displeased growl starts up deep within the rogue’s chest, appearing as if he’s ready to
fight the other two alphas, even if he’s in no condition to do so.

“Would you rather I help you dress?”

Namjoon scoffs again, but the rogue settles down at Jimin’s words, making his cheeks burn at the
idea. He may have glimpsed the man naked before, but he didn’t really see. How is he supposed to
help clothe him and keep a sense of propriety? How is he supposed to keep his omega from
noticably reacting?

“Alright,” Jimin chokes out quietly, gathering the garments he chose before hesitantly approaching
the kneeling alpha once more. “I can help you.”

He starts with the tunic first, which seems like the safer option, the rogue lifting up his arms
cooperatively once Jimin holds it open for him. There's noticeable discomfort coloring his features
as the wound on his side is pulled taut from the position, but he stays like that until Jimin finishes
sliding the soft fabric down his arms, the alpha's eyes still boring into his own once the material is
pulled completely over his head. Though Jimin practically swims in the black tunic when he wears
it, on the alpha it hugs his torso almost indecently, but covers everything it’s supposed to, so it’ll
have to do.

The rogue’s lids flutter closed, and Jimin tries not to blush as he watches him indulge in another
quiet; but deep, inhale, a small hum leaving him when he does. He shouldn’t be surprised, after all,
he chose from his own wardrobe for this very reason, not wanting the alpha to be covered in
anyone else's scent but his own.

The breeches are next, and with the aid of Namjoon and Yoongi who help him to regain his feet
again, Jimin is able to direct his long, naked legs into the thick material, refusing to glance upwards
once the other towel is discarded, and instead keeps his eyes resolutely on the alpha’s calves and
thighs...which, admittedly, isn’t any better at quelling desire. Not when his defined muscles won’t
stop flexing, and the overpowering smell of the alpha’s recent rut still clings to him, even after a
bath. Rosemary and cloves cloud his senses, and Jimin's cheeks flush at being so close to his groin,
as if it's the source of it, no longer muted. It engulfs him, the room spinning from how hot it feels;
if scents can even feel hot, and he swears he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

It's ridiculously difficult trying to clothe someone while attempting to look elsewhere, his blush
deepening every time his hands brush skin. But steadily, he rises, making his way up the man’s
body as he pulls the breeches towards their destination. He struggles with the clasps, fingers
fumbling, but they finally catch and Jimin breathes an audible sigh of relief, something rather
mischievous flashing in the rogue's eyes when their gazes meet again, but it's gone just as quickly,
until Jimin has convinced himself he imagined it. At least the trousers fit well enough. They’re a
little short at the cuffs, the golden skin of his ankles on display, still marred in rope marks, but are
fine otherwise, his waist small in comparison to the rest of him.

Namjoon and Yoongi set him back on the rug again, and Jimin stares down at the man, blurting
out his next question before he thinks it through.

“Would you like for me to comb your hair for you?” he wonders, eyeing the way the dark strands
have begun to dry from the heat of the fire.

The rogue stares up at him before looking down, searching the pile of supplies he deposited on the
rug earlier. His answer comes in the form of the comb that Jimin had left on the fur, held out in
offering with a shaky grip.
Jimin accepts it, surprised by the easy agreement, and takes a seat behind him in the soft cushions
of the armchair, the surreality of this entire experience not lost on him, though he puts it in a drawer
inside of his mind to be taken out and studied at a later date. Instead, he focuses on gathering up the
alpha’s damp hair in a loose grip, and gently runs the comb through the ends, taking care of the
knots there before working his way up.

Out of everything that's occurred between them till now, Jimin can't explain why it is the simple
act of brushing the rogue’s hair that feels the most intimate.

He’s thorough, detangling every strand until the comb’s slide is smooth, and at this point he’s only
putting off the inevitable, Jimin genuinely perplexed over the way he’s enjoying this, his omega
not ready to stop, wanting nothing more than to take care of the alpha. It both fascinates him and
puts him off, the nature of his wolf grating on his nerves with how obviously infatuated it is with
the stranger, ready to roll over and show its belly. He’s never felt this way for another alpha before.
He’s never felt this way for anyone before—

Jimin startles terribly when the door rattles with a harsh knock, the comb falling from his his
fingers to land on his thigh, while his other hand accidentally tightens the grip it has of the alpha’s
wet hair, eliciting a hiss from the man, head tilting back between Jimin’s legs so their eyes can
meet. The way one of those dark brows arches pointedly at him has another flush blooming along
his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he whispers sincerely, his own wide eyes finding Namjoon’s. They share a look, a silent
conversation passing between them before his guard nods and makes his way to the door. He only
opens it a crack, Jimin unable to see who’s on the other side no matter how hard he tries to peek
over. He's surprised when he feels a sudden soft grip encircling his ankle, attention diverted as
Jimin looks down, but the alpha's touch is gone just as fast as it came.

Jimin glances back up, watching while Namjoon converses quietly with whoever is in the hall
before he shuts the door again and returns, expression pinched.

“What is it?” Jimin asks, his impatience getting the better of him.
“It’s Taehyung. He’s demanding to see you.”

Jimin’s shoulders sag in relief, a deep sigh leaving him at the way his quickened pulse begins to
calm, admittedly fearing something far worse. His eyes take in the inky black strands of the rogue’s
long hair that he still has a hold of, curls becoming slightly more defined while it dries, wrapping
around his wrist as if in possession of a grip of their own.

Realization hits him all at once.

There’s a rogue alpha in his bedroom.

He can’t keep this from his closest friend, not even if he wanted to. Taehyung would know
immediately that there's something he’s trying to hide. He has to tell him, even if all it would
accomplish is burdening the other omega with the knowledge, tasked with having to keep this a
secret.

It’s best to break the news gently.

“Will you escort him back to the other room?” he asks Namjoon imploringly, inclining his head
towards their captive.

Namjoon quickly approaches, pulling him to stand, an arm wrapping around his small waist to hold
him steady, and Jimin is just glad the alpha is allowing it, no warning growls or bared teeth this
time.

“I’ll tell my men to let Taehyung through once we’re out of sight,” Namjoon assures, adjusting his
grip on the weakened wolf.
“Thank you,” Jimin sighs again, watching them go.

They leave his room at a slow pace, Namjoon taking the brunt of the man’s weight, his feet
dragging.

Yoongi remains, looking to him for instructions.

“I don’t mean to trouble you, but could you please tell one of the staff that I’ll take my meal in my
room tonight?”

“Of course, my lord, it’s no trouble.”

The title still sits awkwardly with Jimin, especially when coming from those he’s always respected,
or been close with. He tries to assure himself it’s simply because he’s not used to it, and not
because he doesn’t deserve it, like some might think and quietly whisper behind his back.

Yoongi moves to step towards the door when it bursts open, Jimin’s wide eyes tracking
Taehyung’s fuming figure as he marches towards them.

“Didn’t think to let me know that you made it out of Soksagim alive? Am I an afterthought to you,
you thoughtless, reckless—”

Taehyung abruptly stops, his gaze stuck on Yoongi, and Jimin is reminded that the alpha is still
barely clothed, his mouth, neck and chest stained with dried blood.

Taehyung looks pale, as if all the color has been drained from his face, the lids of his eyes almost
too wide, searching rapidly over Yoongi’s form, like he’s attempting to find the source of an injury,
confused when he cannot. The look of fear he wears lasts for less than a minute, and then it is
hidden away, his expression forcibly hardening. Though his deep voice still trembles when he
speaks, giving him away.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Yoongi looks taken aback by the question, though if it’s from the concern in the omega’s tone or
the foul language, it’s hard to tell.

“Yoongi is single-handedly responsible for taking down nearly all the game we brought back from
the hunt,” Jimin praises, pointedly watching Tae’s reaction. His suspicion about the omega’s
feelings deepen when he sees how impressed he looks.

Like Jimin, Tae hardly ever finds anything an alpha does impressive.

Though Yoongi unwittingly puts an end to it a second later.

“But you took down the boar, my lord, and the—”

He coughs, catching himself.

“Someone else took down the stag.”

Taehyung looks at him with narrowed eyes at the news.

“So you just killed the rabbits and squirrels, then?”

Jimin wants to interject, but instead chooses to quietly watch the exchange, feeling somewhat guilty
for finding it entertaining. Poor Yoongi appears a little out of his element, but still sounds unphased
when he answers.

“That is correct.”

Taehyung looks the alpha up and down, not hiding his disdain.

“Made quite a mess of yourself from such small game, wouldn’t you say?”

Yoongi’s lips part, and from where Jimin is sitting he can see a slight tick in the muscle of his jaw,
though he remains; as always, calm and collected.

“My appearance is of little concern to me when the entire village is on the brink of starvation.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but before he has the chance to offer a retort or an olive branch, Yoongi
turns to Jimin and bows deeply.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have someone bring up your supper now, my lord.”

He leaves quickly, Taehyung watching him go while Jimin watches him.

“That was harsh,” he says over the crackling of the fire.

The omega turns back to him, head lowered in what could be regret as he approaches, taking a seat
on the identical chair angled towards his.

“I’m irritated. And why would you care? I’ve seen you do and say far worse to other alphas,” he
mutters petulantly, making Jimin shake his head, unable to quiet the fondness he feels over his dear
friend and his antics.

“I cannot dispute that, but I can say that they were all alphas whose behaviour warranted anything I
may have said or done. Yoongi does not. I have only ever known him to be kind and respectful.
Quiet. Keeps to himself. There’s never been a single complaint against him.”

Tae remains stubbornly quiet.

“Why is it him that sparks your ire so much? You’re usually so agreeable with others. I’ve only
ever seen you that way with him—”

“I know, okay. I know I was rude and unkind. I should apologize,” the other omega admits, trailing
off as he stares into the fire, wringing his hands nervously.

“But you won’t?” Jimin guesses, sighing when Taehyung shrugs.

“I will, I just—”

He stops short, his nose suddenly scrunching, eyes narrowing while his shoulders rise up towards
his ears. He looks uncomfortable.

“Jimin? Why does it smell like an alpha spent their rut in your room?” he demands, taking in
another deep inhale. “And why don’t I recognize the scent?"
Jimin lets go of a weary sigh, massaging his temples as he makes an effort to gather his thoughts.
Where does he start? How should he even word it?

Perhaps it’s best to ease him into it, a delicate breaking of the ice…

“The stories were right. There are rogues in the forest.”

Or perhaps ripping off the bandage is the best way forward.

Taehyung stares at him incredulously for maybe thirty seconds, and then he lets out a loud snort,
mirth filling his eyes and his laughter making his chest shudder. He actually wipes tears from his
lashes, as if Jimin has just said something to warrant them.

“Very funny. Trying to distract me so you don’t have to explain the scent? I thought we told each
other everything.”

“I am telling you. The reason why you don’t recognize it is because we captured a rogue in the
forest fresh off rut. If I didn’t intervene and bring him here, he would have been killed.”

Tae’s eyes narrow now, no longer amused. Instead, they search Jimin’s expression, attempting to
read his tells and discover the lie. When he can’t, his lids widen, mouth falling open and closed,
the picture of shock.

“You’re saying you found a rogue in the woods?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

"Swear!"

"I swear."

“And then you brought him back here?”

“They would’ve killed him otherwise.”

“Jimin—”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You did, you just went with the most difficult option, like you always do. Where is he now? Have
you hidden him in here?" He asks, once more searching Jimin's chambers.

"He's in the room next to mine."

Jimin's heart clenches, watching the way Taehyung's expression morphs into one of confusion and
then disbelief.

"But that's—"

"I know," he interrupts, not ready to hear what the other omega has to say about it. "It was the only
place I could think to put him."

"And the holding cells your father had built in the cellar…" Taehyung trails off, looking for an
explanation.

Jimin doesn't have one.

"It's freezing down there," he says, voice sounding small, unconvincing.

It's quiet as Taehyung attempts to process everything, fingers interlacing while his eyes jump from
one corner of his room to the other in contemplation.

"When are you going to tell everyone?”

Jimin glances guiltily at him from beneath his lids, chest tightening further when the other omega
huffs.

“Jimin, you have to tell the others. If they don’t hear it from you, it’ll make things worse.”

“I know, I just...it feels like the pack is barely hanging on as is, I didn’t want this to be the thing
that shatters what little hope they have left.”

“I understand that, but if the village finds out you tried to keep this from them, I doubt they would
care for the reasoning behind it, no matter how well-intentioned.”

“You’re right,” Jimin concedes with a sigh, running a hand through the long strands of his silvery-
white hair. “Would you spread the word for me? I want everyone to gather in the Great Hall
tomorrow by noon.”

“I'll see it done,” he promises, immediately rising to do just that.

“And apologize to Yoongi!” Jimin calls after him, snorting when the other omega begins to loudly
whistle, rushing from the room as if he didn’t hear.

Jimin sits in the sudden silence, trying to organize his thoughts just as there’s another knock on the
door. When he answers it, one of Namjoon’s men is on the other side, holding a plate in his hand
piled high with food.

“You’re supper, my lord.”

“Thank you,” Jimin answers, taking the plate with a nod. It's venison, no doubt from the same stag
that the rogue felled earlier today. Something uncomfortable settles in him at the idea of offering
this to the alpha like he has any right to, when it was the alpha who provided it...

He waits until the soldier has returned to his post down the hall before he makes his way to the
room next to his. Two more soldiers guard the door, hastily moving to bow to Jimin upon his
approach.

“Where is Namjoon?” He asks the older alpha, believing his name to be Sejin.

“He said he had to speak to someone, my lord. Do—Do you wish to go in?”

He looks uncomfortable with the question. Even more so when Jimin nods in answer.
"I shall accompany you—"

"That won't be necessary," he dismisses, a bit of guilt settling in him at the panic he sees in the
man's eyes. He knows he's being reckless, and to some he probably appears to be a naive omega
with a death wish, but there's this unshakable belief he has that the rogue won't hurt him.

The two move aside, Sejin leaning over to hesitantly open the door for him, as if hoping he'll come
to his senses and change his mind if he waits long enough.

He doesn't.

When Jimin enters, he stops short at the sight he’s greeted with, his wide-eyed gaze taking in the
rogue’s matching expression.

He stands at the far wall, one of the large windows pulled open, letting in the frigid air that carries
flakes of snow into the room. Jimin gives in to the urge to sigh, reminded of the young pups that
get caught and scolded for stealing sweets from the kitchens. He sets the food down on the writing
desk in the corner near the door, moving towards the man so he can stand before him. They stare at
one another, a thickness in the air that feels a lot like humidity during the summer months despite
the cold that sneaks in around them.

Pointedly, Jimin turns and begins to push the window close.

“We’re on the fourth floor,” he states simply. “Below is a steep drop, and I hope you won’t be
fooled by the cover of snow. It’s not that deep, since the groundskeeper salts it when he can, and
beneath is cobblestone. A jump might not be fatal, but the damage it would cause would be
substantial,” he finishes, latching the lock on the frame, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet.

When he turns back, the alpha appears to be studying him, his expression one of begrudging
fascination.

“It gets quite cold at night. There should be spare furs in the wardrobe at the bottom and plenty of
firewood to last awhile," he lists softly, never once looking away. "I brought you supper. You need
to eat to regain your strength, as I’m sure you remember hearing from the doctor while you feigned
sleep.”

The rogue doesn’t acknowledge anything he says, but Jimin doesn’t mind. He’s bone-tired, his
exhaustion far more prominent since he has been depriving himself of his evening meals, and
sometimes his midday meals as well, giving his portions to others so they do not have to go
without.

And now he has once again given away another meal, to an outsider this time, rather than one of
his own.

“Please eat. It’s venison. The same stag you took down,” Jimin whispers, giving the man another
weighted look before he takes his leave, feeling eyes on his back the entire way. He bids the
soldiers goodnight, allowing a heavy sigh to leave him when he hears them shut the door, lock
sliding into place.

When Jimin re-enters his own room, something catches in the firelight, a shiny glimmer resting in
the fur rug before the hearth and shoved underneath his comfortable armchair. He walks over,
bending down to pick it up, a frown taking over his features as he recognizes it.

Black leather, folded over and secured with a steel pin. It's the very sheath that holds his dagger,
the one he usually keeps strapped near his boot. He didn't even notice he was without it. Jimin
looks around, stooping low and peeking in corners and creavices, beneath furniture and articles of
clothing.

But the blade is nowhere to be found.

Chapter End Notes

Let me know what you think.

Twitter
 The Room and the Audience
Chapter Summary

For the second time in as many nights, Jimin’s hand wraps around the hilt of the blade
he keeps under his pillow just as the bed dips behind him near his legs, a heavy weight
clambering up the length of his body and pressing him deeper into the furs, radiating
heat and the muted pheromones of a faded rut.

Chapter Notes

I've been editing this for too long and now I can't look at it anymore. As always, sorry
it takes me forever to update, but if you're still here, I hope you enjoy it. Happy
Halloween!!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It’s the scent that hits Jimin first, pulling him from the clutches of a restless sleep long before the
frigid breeze from his now open window announces its presence across his skin, raising
goosebumps in its wake. He’s lived this before, the terrifying realization that there is someone in
his room. Only this time, it’s not the smell of aloe from Haneul that greets him, but that of
rosemary and cloves.

For the second time in as many nights, Jimin’s hand wraps around the hilt of the blade he keeps
under his pillow just as the bed dips behind him near his legs, a heavy weight clambering up the
length of his body and pressing him deeper into the furs, radiating heat and the muted scent of a
faded rut. A strong hand grips his shoulder, effectively immobilizing him, then forcefully turning
him onto his back, thankfully allowing his hand and what it holds to remain hidden.

Jimin's wide eyes meet even bigger ones, doe-like, dark as the night sky just before dawn, and yet
bright, as if filled with stars. His musings cost him, but Jimin is already anticipating it when he
feels a cold, sharp threat against his throat, recognizing his own dagger pressed precariously across
his neck, the steel kissing ever-so-slightly along the vulnerable skin.
Like introducing an old friend, the rogue reacquaints him with his stolen weapon, attempting to
gain the upper hand from this “unexpected” turn of events. But Jimin was expecting this; or some
variation of it, at least. Already foreseen this outcome when the knife came up missing earlier in
the evening with only one possible culprit. Though the alpha somehow sneaking his way into his
room; past the guards and locks, is something he did not anticipate, and a part of him cannot help
but find it impressive.

Still…

He moves all at once, mindful of the blade the alpha holds against him as he strikes, quick as a
coiled snake, basking in satisfaction at the way the rogue appears stunned by the nearly identical
dagger that now presses to his own throat, their positions mirrored. Jimin adds just a hint of
pressure, a warning that works wonders in garnering his complete attention as the shock slowly
settles into what looks to be indignant resignation.

“I’m curious to learn what your plan was,” he admits in a whisper, grinning in satisfaction at the
way the rogue’s eyes widen further once he presses more threateningly against his bobbing Adam's
apple.

The alpha remains as stubbornly mute as before, but his weight bears down on Jimin, and with
purpose. Strong thighs encase his legs, tangling them with each other along with the numerous
furs, trapping and rendering the bottom half of his body useless. The rogue slides closer still,
making Jimin bear the brunt of him so he can utilize his free hand. It snakes up into his hair,
gripping the long silvery strands in a tight hold that manages to pull, but not hurt. Jimin's neck is
forcibly arched, baring it to the sharp steel pressed against it, and his breathing hisses out of him as
a response, chest rapidly rising and falling, brushing against the rogue's with each labored inhale
and exhale as they share the same air, trying not to think about the intimacy of them baring their
throats to each other twice in one night, even if it is under these...circumstances.

Jimin takes note of their proximity, the way they're wrapped around each other, his silk night
clothes riding up around his thighs, bare skin warmed by the heat that surrounds him, the alpha
unbelievably hot to the touch. They resemble two lovers in the night—sans the weaponry, of
course—a thrill running through him at the indecency of it, his omega wanting nothing more than
to writhe in invitation, but Jimin keeps ahold of his wits, and though it appears as if he is losing the
upper hand, he does not acknowledge it.
“What did you have in mind, hmm? The time for silence is over, speak,” he demands quietly, ever
mindful of the guards in the corridor, feeling his heart flutter when the rogue leans down even
further, their noses nearly brushing. A delicious kind of heat ignites in Jimin's core, resembling the
flames that appear to burn in the alpha's eyes as he pulls back his lips to bare his teeth.

“Let. Me. Go.”

A full-body shiver runs through Jimin, his reaction at the mere sound of him taking his breath
away. The rogue's voice is deep. Deep enough to rain sparks down his spine, his omega yearning
to hear the cadence of it again. It's somewhat scratchy; likely from disuse, but it has that warmth
pooling in his core and spreading, thick like molasses and just as sweet...

He’s barely able to pull himself out of such thoughts, determined to keep the precarious hold he has
on his focus. One wrong move could be dangerous for the both of them, and it's almost humorous
when he finally processes the alpha's words.

Let me go. As if he isn't physically pinning Jimin to his own bed at this very moment, but he still
understands the sentiment.

“I can’t.”

Even in the dark, he can make out the man's intimidating frown, those wide eyes narrowing.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?” he questions, unafraid as the alpha growls and bares his teeth once more,
showcasing his canines; slightly longer than the rest, while becoming purposefully heavier, the
weight of him making it almost difficult to breathe.
Jimin’s omega practically mewls.

“It matters to me.”

There’s anger and frustration in his tone, but what Jimin responds to is the desperation and
uncertainty in his gaze, the very image of an animal caught in a trap. It's surprisingly open, and the
empathy it kindles within him is impossible to ignore.

“Both,” he answers firmly, hissing again when the rogue forces his head to tilt with the dagger, his
grip tightening slightly on his hair, exposing his neck further.

“If I were to let you go, my people would assume you have escaped, and either drag you back or
kill you. Or both," he calmly explains in a shudder, forced to keep eye contact through lowered
lids. "Even if you somehow managed to make it back to the forest, they would follow and hunt you
down. So I can’t and I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I have done nothing to you or yours. So why? Why am I here?”

Jimin’s heart breaks a little, his voice lacking certitude when he tries to explain the old ways of his
pack.

“You were caught in our territory.”

“Your territory?”

Jimin inclines his head as much as he’s able with a blade still pressed to his throat and the strong
hand gripping his hair to hold him in place.

“What makes it yours, then?” The rogue hisses in clear offense, his eyes flashing once more. “You
think a claim to land beholds it to you and your pack?”

The last is spit out almost derisively, as if the very word is abhorrent to him.

Jimin blinks up at those handsome features, even cast in shadows as they are, frozen in the wake of
the alpha’s tumultuous emotions.

“Who does it belong to, then?” He hears himself whisper softly, genuine curiosity coloring his tone
as he catalogues the subtle shifts in the rogue’s expressions.

“It belongs to no one,” he mutters in answer, more to himself than in explanation, his grip on the
blade loosening as he looks away, but Jimin does not take advantage of it just yet. Instead, he
waits, eager to see what he will do next.

Maybe because this version of the alpha is hard to reconcile with the one from earlier in the
evening. The one who let him wash and brush his hair, remaining still and cooperative. And yet
Jimin feels a draw to him all the same, to the flames in his gaze and the passion in his voice.

To the heat of his touch...

The rogue’s eyes flicker from one side to the other, processing. Thinking. When they land on Jimin
again, he presses the blade more insistently against his neck, another soft hiss escaping in response
to the danger of it.

"I’m not staying here, and I don’t need your permission,” he growls, decisive, pressing his weight
down more concentratedly, making movement near impossible. “I could just kill you," he finishes
on a threat, but there are numerous tells that Jimin takes note of that points to a lack of conviction
on that front.

"You had the chance to kill me earlier when we were alone. You already had my dagger, and there
was no one to stop you then," he whispers. "So why didn't you?"

Just as before, the alpha refuses to speak, eliciting a disappointed sigh from Jimin.

"Besides, killing me would only ensure that my pack will never stop hunting you until you're
dead...or worse."

"I could take you hostage, ransom you back on my terms."

Jimin presses his own blade deeper into the alpha's throat as a reminder, a thin line of red
appearing against gold, but not enough to cause any bloodshed.

"I don't make for a very good hostage," he warns, eyes fluttering when the rogue's thighs tighten
against his own, toes curling along the strength of his muscled calves. "Besides, all I have to do is
scream, and the guards will come running in here."

"Then why haven't you?"

Another sigh leaves Jimin, disturbing a strand of the alpha’s inky black hair, curling perfectly and
brushing against his cheek like a caress.
“I would think it obvious by now that I’m trying to save your life, not take it.”

The man stares down at him, brow creased and eyes narrowed. He looks distrustful and frustrated,
no doubt brought on by the confusion that so clearly lines his expression.

“I do not understand,” he admits before scoffing. “Your own people do not understand.”

Jimin remembers Namjoon, and all his objections. The other alphas from the hunting party, so
eager and ready to kill without being commanded to do so, and he can’t help but flush under such
truth and scrutiny.

“All life is precious,” he mumbles numbly in explanation, a distant memory attempting to overtake
his mind.

Jimin wishes he had the words that would encapsulate just how much he detests the act of needless
violence and bloodshed, of any life lost and the suffering of those left behind that it inflicts. But
instead, he’s left to stare at the alpha quietly, praying to the gods that he somehow understands.

You’re precious, he almost wishes to say, but knows that such a declaration would likely be met
with further misunderstanding and discourse. With knives pressed against each other’s throats,
respectively, that doesn’t seem like the best course of action, and furthering the animosity the
rogue undoubtedly feels towards him is the last thing Jimin wants to do.

"You've done nothing to warrant this—any of this—in my eyes. So I will do all that I can to ensure
that you are safe and comfortable.”

“You risk angering your own for a stranger? What’s to stop them from turning on you? You think
your station keeps you safe? If I disappear into the night, it benefits us both.”

Jimin frowns up at him, shivering at what he’s trying to imply and wondering if he’s merely
attempting his hand at subtle manipulation.

“I told you already, they would hunt you down and drag you back before you could make it to the
forest, let alone to the rest of your people.”

The alpha looks at him with a calculating gaze, and Jimin stares quietly, wanting nothing more
than to drop his own dagger and put his hands to better use, like tucking the loose strands of hair
back behind his ears, or smoothing the worry lines off of his brow, tracing the mole beneath his lip
—

His omega is a nuisance, he decides, clouding his judgement in times such as these. Jimin
forcefully gets a hold of it, bringing his thoughts to heel.

Unbeknownst to his inner conflict, the rogue adamantly shakes his head.

“I cannot stay here,” he reiterates, gripping the hilt of his stolen blade more firmly, conviction in
his stare.

“Can’t or won’t?” Jimin parrots back, feeling victorious when he sees how off-guard the question
catches the rogue, his grip; once again, loosening.

“I can’t, ” he insists, something shining brightly in his eyes.

“Then I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers softly, so soft, for a moment he doesn’t think the rogue hears
him, but at his furrowed brow he knows that not to be the case. With a deep breath, he readjusts his
own grip on his dagger and attempts to settle his nerves.

"Don't scream."

The alpha’s expression morphs from confusion to pained shock as Jimin uses his free hand to
roughly jab at the still-healing wound on his side, a dishonorable, dirty maneuver, but one that is
unfortunately necessary. The rogue lets out an agonized moan, grunting as he attempts to curl in on
himself and shield the vulnerable parts of his body. But Jimin uses it to his advantage, disarming
him easily and throwing the knife expertly across the room to find its mark in one of the wooden
posts that line the stone wall. He rolls them, then, flipping their position in a matter of seconds,
free hand covering the man's mouth as he lets out another keen against his skin.

“Shhh," Jimin soothes softly, careful not to add further pressure against his injury with his legs
when he straddles him. "I know, I'm sorry. Shhhh," he practically coos, as if to a fussy pup in need
of comfort.

The rogue seems to take the instructions to heart, silencing himself even as a grimace covers his
face, eyes clenched. In the quiet Jimin listens, his sensitive ears attempting to pick up any telling
sounds, like the guards rushing to check on him.

After a moment, there's nothing, and he turns his attention back to the other wolf, his expression
somewhat smoothed out, a hopeful sign that any pain Jimin inflicted has receded to a tolerable
level.

"I'm trying to save your life," he reiterates, nearly complaining, only to be met with; likely
warranted, offended and angry eyes, Jimin's hand still shielding the bottom half of the alpha's face.

"I never asked you to," he fires back once he’s completely managed to overcome the discomfort,
words muffled terribly against the palm of Jimin's hand, but he understands nonetheless, unable to
help but shiver as he feels the rogue's lips move against his skin.
Heat, moisture, and the soft slide of the man’s mouth on him is almost sinful, causing Jimin’s scent
to spike, his body reacting as the words are spoken into the line in his palm that Hoseok calls the
fate line.

Arousal hits him heavily, and almost in immediate response the rogue shifts beneath him, lids
lowering, eyes hooded with something other than pain or frustration, a soft rumble starting up in
his chest and his own scent thickening in reciprocation. Whatever is between them seems it cannot
be quelled, and will likely be difficult to ignore the longer they're near each other. Even now, in
times such as these, it’s magnetic, Jimin's omega so desperate for the alpha, nearly stripping him of
his common sense.

Jimin feels vindicated that he's not alone in this, the rogue clearly just as affected with his wide,
stricken eyes, labored breaths, and a slight tremor in his hands as they slowly and purposefully
reach up, gripping around Jimin's hips almost reverently, the heat of his skin sinking through his
silk night clothes and searing like a burn, branding him into his flesh, forever to remain.

Jimin takes in a deep, shaky inhale—which is likely a mistake as their combined scents do nothing
but muddle his mind further—valiantly attempting to regain control of his rebelling body. He
slowly removes his hand from the rogue's mouth and places it next to his head, which results in
him having to lean further down, shortening the gap between them. It’s with great force of will that
Jimin ignores the way the alpha so obviously scents the air, the lids of his eyes lowering, breathing
in their coupled fragrance, so clearly overwhelmed by it.

Rosemary and cloves coalescing with petrichor and polianthes.

Slick coats his skin, and he can feel himself fluttering around nothing, as if eager to be filled, eyes
wideneing when beneath him a hot, rigid line thickens to press along his backside, as if offering to
fulfill his wish.

It's horrifying and so deliciously welcome that he nearly presses down on it, longing to move his
hips until it slips along the contours of his soaked cheeks through the thin material of the silk—
Jimin physically shakes himself in a sharp motion, quietly humming on a deep inhale as he
attempts to gather his wayward thoughts. There's no room to be distracted, no matter how
appealing the distraction.

No matter how consuming—

“You say you cannot stay here, so you would rather die, then?” He questions, voice stilted, hoping
to sober them both, but remembering to be as quiet as possible.

“I want to go home.”

That softens something inside of Jimin, his exasperation and arousal fading away, and he sighs as
he finally lowers the dagger he holds, carefully climbing off both the alpha and his bed. He feels
the rogue’s eyes on him the entire time as he puts distance between them, covering the thin silk of
his bed clothes with a heavy robe and donning fur-lined slippers. He preoccupies himself by
lighting several candles on his way to checking the locks on the door to his chambers, then quickly
turns to the opposite wall that holds his still-open window, and the rogue's point of entry.

Jimin’s hair whips about from the wind, flakes of snow attaching themselves to the strands as he
leans his upper body out, unable to suppress a shiver when the cold sinks into his skin. He waits
for his eyes to adjust, the late hour and falling snow making it difficult to see, but the light from the
neighboring window helps, and it's easy to discern that it is open as well. There's a ledge attached
to each sill, wide enough to climb out on and strong enough to support the weight of anyone foolish
enough to make the attempt. The jump to his own isn’t terribly far, but for one injured and weak, it
must’ve been perilous.

“Did you exaggerate your current condition, or do you truly have a death wish?” He wonders as he
maneuvers his upper body back into the room, keeping his eyes on the window’s ledge. “A leap of
such in the dead of night; and winter, no less while in your state isn’t what I would call ‘well-
planned.’”

When he looks back, the alpha is propped up on his pillows, hair disheveled, chest slightly heaving
and his cheeks flushed. The glare he directs at Jimin doesn't make him any less stunning, but he
chooses to pay it no mind and closes the window instead, relieved when the biting chill is cut off.
“I never claimed it was well-planned. Desperate times and all that,” the rogue mutters in answer
behind him, and Jimin turns to meet his gaze once more, taking note of his reclined position on his
bed, tunic riding up and revealing more of that golden skin, the rest of him so appealingly
disheveled. He exudes an unbothered air, relaxed and unhurried, but firelight dances in his abyss-
like eyes that tells another story. One of discomfort, restlessness and distrust, cleverly hidden
beneath a mask of indifference.

Jimin studies him further, a shiver running through him when he notes he still wears the clothes he
picked out for him earlier. His clothes, and little else.

“Indeed. You even planned on making your great escape without a cloak, or any proper footwear.
You thought nothing of venturing out into a snow storm while injured, too weak to make the
change in nothing but thin clothing and bare feet. I doubt you would have made it far.”

The rogue’s eyes narrow further, his expression hardening, and Jimin feels another thrill run
through him, unsure why he’s purposefully baiting the man, but the excitement he experiences at
finally getting a reaction from him is almost too addicting.

“Maybe I would have stolen your boots after I killed you.”

“I don’t think they’d fit you,” Jimin mutters, eyeing the alpha’s feet, his toes curling as if they shy
under his gaze.

The rogue snorts and shakes his head, appraising Jimin with a perturbed expression.

“I don’t understand you.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“I am your captive. I stole into your room in the middle of the night and put a knife to your throat.
I’ve threatened to kill you, numerous times, and this is your response. Are you daft?”

“Depends on who you ask, I suppose, but despite your actions and threats, I don’t think you ever
intended to harm me. And I may be an omega, but I’ve already proven to be more than capable
against you.”

“What does being an omega have to do with anything?” The alpha questions, appearing genuinely
confused.

“Nothing,” Jimin says quickly, unsure of the reason for his embarrassment at the question. He's so
used to defending his status, endlessly frustrated with the way the vast amount of alphas in his pack
so casually spurn the capabilities of his gender that it comes naturally.

“I’ve already explained that I don’t want any more harm to come to you. Whether you believe it or
not, I didn’t want any of this, and though my opinion on the matter differs vastly from my people’s,
you were still found in our territory, and the only thing I could think of to stop you from being
killed was to bring you here. I cannot sufficiently apologize for what has transpired, but it is done,
and this is our reality now.”

The rogue stares at him in the silence that ensues, and Jimin refuses to fidget or look away, neither
one of them so much as blinking.

“I am not blind to your efforts," the alpha finally assures, something in his expression softening. "I
see you."

The easy declaration takes Jimin's breath away, his gaze unblinking, as if he physically can't look
away from the man. A string of simple, uncomplicated words that create something weighted when
they come together, their meaning striking something deep within him.
I see you.

Jimin opens his mouth as if to speak, but nothing comes out, at a loss for what to say.

The reasoning changes with the rogue's next words.

"But I will escape,” he promises quietly, as if he senses the chaos raging in Jimin's mind and puts a
halt to it with that declaration. “I’ll never stop trying until I escape.”

Jimin peers at him, his head tilting to the side and studies the alpha's features once more, positive
that he'll never tire of it. He lets his eyes travel over every inch, using the time to attempt to put
some order to his thoughts.

“What is your name?” He wonders aloud, tone light and lilting, finding it silly that he doesn't
already know.

The rogue’s eyes widen, a look of hesitation flitting over his expression, clearly not expecting that
particular question, so Jimin presses just a little, hopeful.

“Please? I wish to address you properly.”

Silence descends upon them again, and Jimin is sure that he’ll refuse to answer out of stubborness
when his lips part.

“Jeon Jeongguk.”
Jimin's lids flutter, his mouth already desiring to form the words, to try it out on his tongue and feel
how it sounds to his ears when he speaks it aloud, but he’s not that shameless.

Not yet, at least.

“Well, Jeon Jeongguk, if you are to escape, I would advise that you bide your time so that your
first attempt is your last. And stop taking unnecessary risks,” he adds, motioning towards his
closed window. “What would you have done if it was locked?”

“I would have knocked until you answered,” he mutters dryly, and Jimin can’t help the smile that
starts at the corners of his lips, overtaking his mouth.

“Exercise more caution in the future, and patience. Living today means freedom tomorrow.”

Jeongguk raises a brow at him before he attempts to sit up, visibly struggling as a wince colors his
features, his arm crossing over his side protectively.

It's hard to say if Jimin makes the conscious decision or if his body just sets into motion before he
can register it doing so, but he goes to him immediately, setting the dagger down on a chest of
drawers as he moves towards the bed and the tense alpha resting atop it, clearly gritting his teeth in
discomfort.

“Come, let me see,” he instructs, reaching out tentatively while Jeongguk’s wide eyes meet his
own, narrowed and hesitant.

“I’m fine,” he claims, but Jimin won’t be convinced.

“You’re not. Let me help you.”

“Why should I? You’re the one who irritated it.”

“You had a knife to my throat, I did what I had to do.”

“You had one to mine, as well.”

“Don’t be a child and let me see.”

Jeongguk glowers at him but removes his hand, hissing as he forces his posture to straighten,
crossing his arms over his chest and removing Jimin’s shirt in one swift move.

Jimin swallows his inappropriate gasp at all the bare, golden skin that is once more revealed to
him, interrupted only by a crisp white bandage. Upon closer inspection, he can see red blooming in
places where his wound likely reopened during the struggle, heart skipping a beat at the sight.

“Let me change this,” he murmurs, his focus returning in the wake of the blood adorning the once
clean fabric. “I’ll put some more salve on as well, to help with the pain.”

Jeongguk cooperates, as if regressing into the alpha that let himself be bathed earlier in the
evening, sitting quietly and remaining still as Jimin removes the soiled bandage. He meticulously
checks over the wound, wiping away any blood that still clings to him before spreading a thin layer
of the salve over the bite marks. Grabbing fresh bandages, he wraps it up tightly once more, just as
Hoseok showed him.

Another long silence settles over the room once he’s finished, and Jimin watches the rogue redon
his shirt, gaze staring off into the distance, contemplative. He leaves him there as he regains his
feet, discarding the soiled fabric before taking the time to add more logs to the dying fire, bringing
it to a roaring height, enjoying its warmth as he internally debates on what's to be done, remaining
quiet until he comes to a decision.

“I won’t send you back the way you came. The storm has picked up, and it’s too dangerous in your
condition,” he decides, watching the dancing flames as he speaks. “If the guards find out you were
able to sneak your way in here, I fear that you will be placed under far more restrictions than I had
originally hoped. You might even be moved to the holding cells beneath the lodge.”

What sounds like a sharp intake of air reaches Jimin’s ears, but he can’t be sure over the crackling
of the fire.

“You’ll stay here tonight, and in the morning I’ll come up with an excuse to move the guards
before the shift change. Then I’ll sneak you back in.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, but the look he directs at Jimin when he turns around is that same
familiar confusion, a lack of understanding morphing his features into what Jimin can’t help but
classify as endearing bewilderment.

“You think it wise to sleep in the same room as me? You would leave yourself vulnerable in the
presence of an alpha you do not know and have taken prisoner?” He questions, not bothering to
wait for an answer. “Foolish omega. How have you lived as long as you have?”

“Your concern is touching,” Jimin monotones with a frown, moving away from the hearth and
grabbing the dagger from the chest where he left it, as well as the one stuck in the post, resheathing
both and attaching one of the blades near his ankle where he usually keeps it.

He then grabs the book he’s been reading on the nights that sleep eludes him, and moves towards
his favorite armchair in front of the hearth.
“Sleep," he instructs when he sees that the rogue continues to gape at him. "Your body needs it. I’ll
be here, if you require anything.”

Jimin settles into the soft velvet cushions, cradling the second dagger in his lap, soaking in the
warmth from the fire and hating the way it makes his eyes feel heavy already. He hasn’t gotten as
much rest as he should these days, but one more night won’t hurt him.

That’s what he tells himself, at least.

“You look exhausted yourself,” the alpha points out, and Jimin scoffs, finding the page he left off
on and refusing to look away, even if the words printed begin to swim in his vision.

“You’re mistaken, now go to sleep.”

He sees the way Jeongguk shakes his head out of the corner of his eye before he settles, and Jimin
ignores him as much as he's able in favor of picking up where he left off in his novel. But the fire
coaxes his eyes to fall further, and Jimin jerks upright when his head does the same, blinking away
the tears as his sight blurs and unfocuses.

His body sinks deeper into the armchair, heavy and warm, lids sliding lower and lower…

________________

There’s blood in the snow. The heat of it; still warm from the body it spills from, melting the
surface. Jimin watches as the white hue slowly starts to disappear, overrun, until the entirety is
crimson. A scream reaches his ears, echoing in what is otherwise a mostly colorless void, but he
can’t look away to see where it originates from, can’t comfort whoever it is that wails at the sight.
There’s just so much of it—

Jimin startles when a boar falls dead at his feet, adding to the carnage, and not long after a stag
joins its ranks. A wolf, black as a moonless sky is next, and lastly, he sees his own mother,
withered and wasted away as she falls before him with wide empty eyes, swallowed up by red—

Jimin jerks awake to the sight of his ceiling, a sharp pain in his neck, protesting at the angle it’s
been left in for far too long, the high-backed chair he lounges on good for posture, but terrible for
sleeping. A wince decorates his features just as his lids fall shut again, body tense and coiled once
he begins to stretch out, a deep rumbling hum vibrating along his swollen lips. Jimin's lids blink
open again, clearing the blurriness from his vision, only to immediately jump back, eyes wide,
heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

The rogue—Jeongguk—kneels before him, his expression one of curiosity as he seemingly studies
his face, the sunlight from the window catching on the gleaming steel he twirls expertly in his
hand, once more in possession of one of Jimin’s daggers. He moves from twirling the blade to
flipping it up into the air and catching it expertly, Jimin's eyes widening at his easy confidence and
skill, breath hitching far too loudly in the quiet.

Jeongguk is clearly taunting him.

“You were crying in your sleep, you know,” he informs, tone soft, gentle almost. “You wouldn’t
wake up.”

Jimin feels mortified, barely able to meet his gaze, but when the rogue moves as if to strike with
the stolen weapon, he jumps back as far as he can, pressing himself uselessly deeper into the
armchair, as if that will protect him, only for the alpha to freeze just shy of causing any harm, a
hard look covering his features.

A lesson in his gaze.

“Foolish omega,” he tuts in disappointment, a victorious smirk gracing his lips just before he once
again tosses the blade in the air, catching sharp steel between his fingertips this time and offering
the hilt towards him, teeth sinking into his plump bottom lip as if to hold in his own amusement.

Jimin eyes the pretty pink shade of it, turning white when those teeth add pressure, heart pounding
while that knife is lowered towards him, unable to help but hesitate from cautionary distrust. But
when the alpha waves it in front of his eyes, a parody of harmlessness while he urges him to take it,
he decides to do just that, unwilling to wait and see what'll happen if he refuses. Jimin’s hand
lashes out and steals it back with no resistance, his mood soured by the turn of events, feeling as if
Jeongguk has just proven a point at his expense.

The rogue smirks knowingly, cocky almost, and then gains his feet and moves away.

Jimin watches him go before glaring down at the dagger, checking to make sure he has both
blades. The last thing he needs is another knife held to his neck. It’s a disconcerting way to wake
up, and it's happened to him twice now, the added memory of the nightmare keeping him on edge,
contributing to the anxiousness he hasn't been able to get rid of.

It’s been awhile since he dreamed of such things.

A groan leaves him when he pushes himself up from the chair, body aching in protest while some
of his bones crack loudly in the silence. One of the knives is still in the sheath around his ankle, so
for now he decides to tuck the other one carefully into his waistband.

Jimin makes his way to his wardrobe, feeling the rogue's eyes following him the entire time. He
ignores it to the best of his ability, but keeps himself aware of his movements and position in the
room, his ears straining for the tiniest sound in case the alpha makes any sudden movements.

Jimin hides the second dagger in a discreet compartment, and quickly grabs one of the finer pairs
of breeches he owns, coupling it with a thick tunic that hangs loosely on him in a way that he
knows to be flattering. He's addressing the pack at noon, and must take care in his appearance.
When he faces the alpha once more; that intense gaze still focused solely on him, Jimin remembers
his predicament.

He isn't embarrassed by any means, but they're alone in his chambers, alpha and omega, captive
and captor, and there’s just something so bizarre and cliche about this that makes him want to roll
his eyes. But he also knows what this would look like to someone if they walked in. That he could
maybe explain away. What worries him is what it feels like. He's hyper aware of the other wolf. A
kind of weightlessness in his stomach at the man's gaze, skin warm despite the chill, while his
thoughts rush around without any semblance of sense, and each one features the rogue…

“Would you turn around, please?”

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, something in his expression causing Jimin’s body to feel that
newly familiar heat simmering to a burn.

“Hmm?”

“I said would you turn around, please.”

“Why?”

Jimin resists the urge to huff out a sigh.

“So that I can get dressed.”

He watches one of those brows quirk, a look of surprise flitting over the wolf’s features. There’s
something almost shining in his eyes that appears to be amusement, but Jimin doesn’t get to study
it for long before he complies and turns his back, remaining completely still.

Jimin’s heart races, his omega whimpering softly...

His thighs are still tacky from where he leaked slick the previous night, practically adhering the
silk nightclothes to his skin. Jimin peels it away with a wince, retrieving a clean cloth that he wets
in the basin bowl in order to scrub it away, the water giving new life to the smell of polianthes and
petrichor thick with arousal. From his place near the bed, Jeongguk takes in a deep, long inhale,
head lifted, nose to the air, and Jimin; heart fluttering like the wings of butterflies, tries to keep his
balance as he both cleans himself up and keeps an eye on the alpha. He dresses quickly after his
skin is clean and smooth, keeping watch to make sure that Jeongguk stays facing away. He does,
body still as a statue, not so much as even shifting from foot to foot. Jimin finishes the day's
ensemble by adding another strap to his leather belt where he sheaths his second dagger after
retrieving it from the wardrobe, covering the weapon with a light; but warm, jacket.

“Done,” he calls, barely able to meet the rogue’s pointed stare when he turns back around, even as
he feels those eyes rove over his dressed figure, heat pooling in his cheeks from the attention. He
goes back to ignoring him as best as he’s able, reaching for the very same comb he used on the
alpha the night before, and running it through his long, silvery locks, making quick work of any
tangled strands. Grabbing a tie from his vanity, Jimin piles his hair high on his head and secures it
with quick, practiced motions.

Glancing in the mirror, he deems himself presentable, then finally turns back to the other.

“Keep out of sight. I’ll come back for you when the guards are no longer an issue.”

Jeongguk doesn’t acknowledge the words, but he does stay put as Jimin exits his room, making his
way towards one end of the corridor where there stands a lone soldier at his station.

“Shift change is soon,” he says in greeting, not familiar with the wolf’s name. “Before the end, will
you please go down to the kitchens and collect my morning meal? I’ll be taking it in the room next
to my own.”
The alpha eagerly goes, a determined look on his face as he does so, eager to please.

He doesn’t bother explaining himself to the other guards, just simply waves his hand with an order
to leave, ignoring the pointed looks of confusion and worry that are aimed his way. With the
corridor deserted, he quickly runs back to his own chambers, meeting the rogue’s wide eyes as he
motions for him to follow.

“We don’t have much time,” he says, gathering the medical supplies Hoseok gifted with him
yesterday. "More guards will be on their way to take their post.”

Jeongguk trails after him, and together they enter the room next to Jimin’s without incident, a
shiver running through them both once the door is closed behind them. He looks at the back wall,
sighing when he sees the still-open window due to the rogue’s “escape” the night before, leaving a
slush of melted snow along the stone floor.

An image from his nightmare flashes behind his eyes, heated blood burning through ice, but Jimin
refuses to waste time examining it, motioning towards the alpha, instead.

“Help me with this,” he mutters, rushing to close the frigid glass, hissing over the way it burns
when his skin makes contact.

“Go,” Jeongguk instructs, catching Jimin by surprise when his fingers carefully encircle his wrist,
gently removing his hand. “Start a fire, I’ll take care of it.”

Jimin’s eyes widen as he looks upon him, but the rogue is too busy getting the window shut to see,
so Jimin goes, adding more logs to the hearth as the alpha uses one of the rugs to soak up the mess.
When there’s a knock on the door not five minutes later, it's been carefully hidden, and Jimin
answers it cautiously, thanking the soldier on the other side when he announces, “Your breakfast,
my lord.”

“Here,” Jimin murmurs once the door is closed again, holding out the plate full of food to the other
wolf.

Jeongguk stares at him with narrowed eyes, Jimin's omega trying not to fidget under the hardened
gaze.

“The alpha said it was your breakfast.”

“The alpha was mistaken. It’s for you.”

It is difficult to suppress the shiver that wants to run through the entirety of Jimin’s body as
Jeongguk’s eyes appraise him boldly. From the top of his head down to his toes, he takes him in,
gaze heavy and thorough, as if committing him to memory.

“You’re lying.”

Jimin’s breath stutters and stills, his omega wanting nothing more than to whine in protest.

“What—”

“I can hear it in your voice,” Jeongguk claims, his expression revealing nothing, and Jimin’s
inability to read him makes the alpha appear dangerous. Unpredictable.
“It makes no difference who it was intended for. You need to eat, and I am providing you with
food.”

“Your food.”

“That is inconsequential.”

Something flashes in Jeongguk’s eyes, an emotion that Jimin can’t quite put a name to.

“Your hands say otherwise.”

“My hands?”

“They’re shaking.”

Jimin looks down, stomach dropping when he notes that his hands are indeed shaking, appearing
to struggle under the weight of the filled plate as the other continues.

“Your legs, as well. You look dead on your feet. Cheeks sunken in, countenance pale. When was
the last time you ate?”

“Do not concern yourself with me, you need this more than I do. Or have you forgotten your
promise? If you do not restore your strength, there is no hope of escape,” he scolds, impatiently
motioning towards the plate he still holds out.

The alpha looks surprisingly stubborn, his stance on this only succeeding in confusing Jimin
further.

After all, why would a captive care if their captor is going without? But his next question proves
otherwise.

"How is it that the lord of the pack has to give up his meals?"

"My father is lord. I am but a mere stand in."

"You are the son of the head alpha, you are not a mere anything."

Chills run up and down Jimin's arms at those words, and he watches the look of contemplation that
takes over the man's features, making Jimin feel a strange kind of anxiety, as if he is puzzling out
his secrets.

Jeongguk reaches out, carefully taking the plate from his struggling hands, but makes no move
otherwise as he stares at the food, as if he only accepted the offering to relieve Jimin from the
burden of holding it.

"That alpha from before, the one in the woods," he starts, pensive. "He complained that I was just
another mouth to feed."

"There are many who call this village home," Jimin informs, voice level, despite himself. "It is my
responsibility to see that each and every one of them is provided for. Not the easiest of tasks."

"That is why you ventured so deep into the forest to hunt. You're running out of food."
Jimin can't explain why he feels so full of shame and guilt at having that fact pointed out to him,
Jeongguk so easily being able to work out their circumstances when most of the pack is still
unaware.

"It was all I could think to do to prevent my people from starving."

"And I am a casualty of that decision," the rogue murmurs, though there's no accusation in his
voice, his features softening in a way that frustrates Jimin, because he does not understand the
reason for it. "And what of your own starvation? You would have me be the cause for why you go
without?"

"It is my decision."

"Not yours alone it isn’t. I could refuse,” the rogue decides, pointedly setting the food down on a
nearby chest, expression challenging.

Jimin feels heat begin to burn in his belly, anger and indignance churning inside of him at once. A
potent combination.

“Why would you do such a thing? And you call me foolish,” he hisses, stepping into the alpha’s
space without worrying over potential consequences. “Do you not understand? I am the reason for
it all. The reason we ventured so deep into the woods. The reason you were so unfairly attacked,
and hurt. I’m the reason you were torn from your home and now hold the title of prisoner. This is
my doing, but I refuse to be the reason you do not heal properly, let alone starve, have I made
myself clear?”

Jeongguk blinks down at him with wide, doe-like eyes, his expression is one of curiosity, interest
even. Jimin forces himself to hold his ground, though his boots are in danger of stepping over the
rogue’s still-bare feet.

“A compromise, then.”
The suggestion makes Jimin huff, moving away as his irritation grows.

“Why is this even an issue,” he growls, silencing his opposed omega, who seemingly just wants to
be docile and compliant.

“Why was it an issue when your own pack wanted to kill me?”

The question catches Jimin off guard, his blood running cold in his veins.

“What—”

“You said so yourself that a rogue in your territory warrants a death sentence, yet you spared me.
Why?"

Jimin gapes at him, mouth closing only to open again, yet words elude him.

"You're being ridiculously stubborn," he finally settles on, purposefully avoiding the question.

"As are you."

"Just eat the food."

"Eat it with me."

Jimin's mouth hangs open again, eyes wide and shocked into silence for some time.

"You want to...split meals?"

"You refused to let me be killed, I refuse to let you starve," is his answer. "We're even."

"Your recovery will suffer for it."

"How imprudent of me," he mutters in a monotone. "I change my mind. Starve, then."

Jimin scoffs at his dry sense of humor; if one could call it that, and shakes his head.

"Rude."

"Just eat the food, omega."

"I have a name, rogue."

Jeongguk shows no interest in that revelation, and instead motions to the plate.

"You first."
Jimin sighs, but stops arguing. He isn't getting anywhere, anyways, the alpha as headstrong as he
is.

They move closer to the fire and sit in the angled armchairs where he hesitantly starts to eat,
Jeongguk watching him the entire time, which makes an already embarrassing process even more
so. He's slow, but Jimin forces himself to finish the entirety of his share, even when his stomach
begins to protest, painfully nauseated after being denied for so long.

"Here," he mutters, pushing the plate towards the patiently waiting alpha when he can eat no more.
"The rest is yours."

Unlike Jimin, Jeongguk devours his share quickly, leaving nothing behind.

"What happens now," he wonders wearily, setting the plate off to the side and staring out the same
window he climbed out of the night before.

"Now," Jimin starts, his exhaustion apparent, making even his voice heavy. "We need to change
your bandage again. And then later today, I must tell the rest of my pack about you."

Jeongguk seems to tense before him, his eyes shifting, searching for something.

"You think that's wise, after the way the others reacted to you bringing me here?"

Jimin shrugs helplessly.

"I cannot hide you forever, and if they discover your presence, or learn of you from someone else, I
fear their response will be far worse. Try not to worry too much. I vowed to keep you safe."
"What good would you be in the face of a mob?"

"Despite what you've seen thus far, I assure you my pack is not a mindless horde out for blood. I'll
make them see reason."

Jeongguk's expression is one of doubt and apprehension, and Jimin cannot fault him for it, but he'd
rather put the reality of what he must later face out of his mind for now and take the day one step at
a time.

"Come, let me tend to your wound."

The rogue follows easily, sitting still as they go through the now familiar routine, and Jimin feels
proud when the sight of bare golden skin fails to make his heart pound.

Or that's what he tells himself, at least.

The door opens just as he's finishing wrapping his midsection, and they both look up to see
Namjoon standing in the entryway, clearly displeased.

"I would speak with you. Alone," he declares, his gaze snapping to Jeongguk briefly.

Jimin nods, gathering his things in his arms and giving Jeongguk a meaningful look before he turns
and approaches Namjoon, the alpha holding the door open for him, but his distrustful gaze stays
positioned on the rogue until the door closes behind them.
They travel quietly back to Jimin's bedchamber, allowing him to drop off the medical supplies
before walking the familiar route to his father's study, now used as his own while the alpha
recovers.

Jimin already knows what awaits him before Namjoon even opens his mouth.

"You dismissed the guards this morning before shift change."

It isn't a question.

"I did."

"Why?"

Jimin doesn't know how to answer, so he remains silent, frustrating Namjoon further.

"Not only have you been dismissing men at their posts in charge of guarding your captive, but
you've been having audiences with him, alone, after the fact."

"It's not what you think."

"What am I to think? You're being reckless, closing yourself in a room without the safety of your
own to come to your aid should you need it while you tend to your prisoner. That's what he is,
Jimin. A prisoner. And you're acting as if he's a docile pup!"

"I understand your concerns, but I'm fine."

“You think he won’t hurt you because your omega is drawn to him?”

Jimin’s eyes widen at the inquiry, his heart skipping a beat in his chest while his stomach
plummets, scent spiking in an obvious giveaway. Namjoon knows. It makes him feel caught out,
panic swirling inside him when alpha sighs.

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know. The way you acted in the woods, it was like you were in a
trance trying to get to him. And last night, both Yoongi and I could tell what was going on. Neither
one of you tried to hide it. Even now his scent is all over you.”

Jimin feels exposed, fingers itching to cover up something that can't be concealed. Despite himself,
his cheeks burn, the memory of every incident Namjoon spoke of replaying in his mind. How
affected he was during each instance, his wolf's instincts overpowering the more rational side of
him.

And that includes what Namjoon; thankfully, doesn't know about. What occured between them last
night, in Jimin's room.

In his bed.

“It wasn’t my intent—”

“I am not faulting you for that," Namjoon assures, tone soothing. "I am simply asking that; despite
what your wolf may feel, you try to be more careful. You do not know him, and even if he has
remained cooperative thus far, I fear he won't always be. I'm asking you as your friend, not as your
guard, to please be cautious. I know your nature, and I know how deeply you feel and care for
others, but think of yourself for once as well.”
Jimin stares at him, his heart swelling even as guilt forms heavy in the pit of his stomach.

"I will," he swears, vowing to listen and make things easier on the alpha, even if the older wolf
doesn't fully understand.

Jimin doesn't understand it himself, but when it comes to Jeongguk, his very being is sure that he
would never hurt him, as if he can feel it in the deepest parts of his energy, the humanity in him, as
well as his wolf in symbiotic agreement for once. He can’t very well tell that to Namjoon, though.
Already knows how well it would go over if he made the attempt to explain to him that Jeongguk
poses no threat, because of a feeling he has.

The poor guard would probably suffer a breakdown.

There’s a knock on the door, cutting through his thoughts when he meets eyes with Namjoon. The
alpha's brow furrows as he turns to answer it, letting in a flustered looking Hoseok, dark circles
ringing his eyes, skin pale and expression morose.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“What is it?” Jimin asks, waving away his concern as his anxiety spikes. Hoseok only ever looks
this upset if it’s something serious.

“I’ve been stationed at Lee Jongdae’s house all morning. He—he was one of the few to show
symptoms.”

“...Was?” Jimin murmurs, gaze taking in the way Hoseok’s face falls.
“There was nothing I could do for him. He succumbed to the illness.”

Succumbed.

The unknown plague that continues to spread throughout the pack has claimed its first fatality.

“Does...does anyone know? Should someone be informed?” Jimin wonders numbly, his thoughts
unorganized, ears ringing.

“He had no one, my lord. No family left.”

“Of course.”

Jimin knows that, but still, there must be those who will be sad to see him go. His death is painful
to hear, even if Jimin never cared for him. As the pack’s resident drunk, he was the root of most of
the problems and complaints that were brought before his father on multiple occasions. Never one
to know his limits, and an angry piece of work when inebriated, Jimin kept his distance, wary of
the alpha. He told outlandish tales, though, tales enjoyed by many throughout the village, and a
loss is a loss.

“I speak to the pack at noon,” Jimin sighs, rubbing at his newly aching temples. “I’ll inform
everyone then. Is there...can you make a list of all the people exhibiting symptoms and give it to
Taehyung when you have the chance? I would like to know who and exactly how many.”

Hoseok inclines his head, clearly still rattled, if his trembling hands are anything to go by, and
Jimin feels for him.

“Have you had time to rest? Eat?”

"Not yet."

“You should do so. You must care for yourself if you are to continue tending to others.”

Hoseok bows deeply, whispering a grateful, “my lord,” in acknowledgement before he exits the
study.

The silence he leaves behind is heavy, Jimin's thoughts once again thrown into turmoil and chaos.

“Are you alright?” Namjoon asks into the silence, and Jimin slowly shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think I am.”

“There’s still time before noon. You should go, see your father.”

Jimin nods at the suggestion, affection and gratitude building inside of him because he was just
thinking the same, and of course Namjoon knew.

“I should,” he agrees, flashing him a thankful look before he exits the study as well, making his
way to his father’s chambers, the alpha following behind him.

“I’ll be just outside,” he assures, leaving Jimin to enter the large double doors alone. He feels like a
child again, scared and uncertain as he seeks his father’s council.
But his father can’t answer him anymore. His pallid, weak form so still on the bed in the same
position he’s been in for nearly an entire moon phase. In a nearby chair, Haneul takes up residence,
keeping watch over the sleeping lord. She tracks his approach, her familiar aloe scent
overpowering that of his father’s once potent scent of thyme.

“How is he?”

“There is improvement.” she answers sounding surprised herself, voice raspy and loud in the
unnerving aura of the room.

Jimin sighs in relief upon the words, eyes sliding shut, because despite everything, his father is all
he has left.

“Too soon to tell if it'll last," the healer tacks on, "but he doesn't burn as hot, and so far he's
stomaching the broth and water I’ve been giving him when he’s lucid.”

“That is good,” Jimin whispers, his gaze locked on the diminished figure of his once proud
father.

“Then why do you appear so troubled,” the old beta wonders, her milky eyes sharp, face pinched in
a frown.

“Lee Jongdae passed this morning. He exhibited the same symptoms as my father and the others.”

His eyes widen when she scoffs, gnarled, paper-like hands swatting at the air as if shooing a pest.

“He was warned countless times to give up the drink. That it would weaken his ability to fight off
the illness, but he would not listen.”
Jimin doesn’t know how to process that claim, and guilt seeps through him that the words—though
callous—bring hope. Perhaps the others have a chance, then. Maybe it was Jongdae’s drinking that
affected his outcome…

"You really think that to be the reason?" He asks, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"The high lord has been sick for many days and nights, and now shows signs of recovery. Jongdae;
in comparison, only demonstrated symptoms for a short while, and instead of resting to give his
body time to recover, he was holed up in the tavern, living off the drink. I warned him, he chose to
ignore it," she finishes with a shrug.

Jimin nods at her words, his eyes sliding back to his father's form, watching as his chest rises and
falls.

“I must speak to the pack now. Please keep me informed of any changes,” he requests, quietly
taking his leave when he receives Haneul’s solemn nod.

He meets Namjoon in the hall, sighing at the inquisitive look he gives.

“She says he is improving. That he’s keeping fluids down.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Namjoon assures, walking with him side by side to the Great Hall.

“It is, but we don't know if it'll last, and now that someone has died I must inform the others of
what it is were facing. That; along with the issue of the rogue, will incite panic.”
“I will be with you,” Namjoon swears, the promise a source of comfort. “Every step of the way.”

Jimin sighs, reaching for the alpha’s hand and giving it a squeeze. A relieved calm washes over
him when Namjoon’s pleasant cypress scent reaches his nose, and he returns the gesture.

“There you are.”

Jimin nearly jumps when Taehyung rushes to meet them both, the stone hall causing his voice to
echo.

“Everyone is gathered and waiting,” he informs, carrying around what looks to be scrolls.

“Let’s get this over with, then,” Jimin decides, hoping that his nerves aren’t too obvious. He must
appear calm and unwavering in the face of the others, or else everything could fall apart around
him.

________________

Sitting in his father’s high-backed chair in the center of the raised dais while the rest of the pack
stands below and gazes up at him feels surreal, and not for the first time Jimin wishes he could rise
and pace, but this is the role he must learn to play while his father recovers, and the more
intimidated and uncomfortable he is by it, the more he’s sure the others can see it, too.

That he does not belong.

Every head of household has gathered in the hall, crowding it nearly as far as the eye can see, but
Jimin thinks the sheer amount of them is a blessing in disguise, their numbers making it difficult to
focus on any one person—except for those up front, and when his eyes meet Doyun’s, he quickly
looks away, his earlier relief vanishing.

With a deep breath, he begins, holding up a closed fist to signal the crowd quiet. Once the noise
dies down, he speaks.

“It saddens me that I must inform each of you of the loss of one of our own.”

He waits, ignoring the whispered murmurs of worry that spread throughout the room, until silence
slowly descends once more with the dawning realization that he won't continue otherwise.

“This morning, I was told by one of our healers that Lee Jongdae has passed.”

Those whispers escalate, the numerous conversations starting up grating on Jimin’s ears. He holds
his fist up high again, and it quiets the room down to a manageable decibel.

“I’m afraid there is more," he starts, taking another steadying breath. "As you already know, my
father, and our high alpha and lord, has been afflicted with sickness. Recently, there have been
others who have exuded the same symptoms as he has...including Jongdae.”

The pack erupts simultaneously, clear tones of panic and hysteria echoing around them.

Pain begins to pound away at Jimin’s temples and he resists the urge to rub them, his sensitive ears
ringing in protest. He puts his fingers in his mouth instead and whistles, the shrill sound garnering
the attention of all who have gathered as they stare up at him with wide eyes and open mouths.

Not exactly conventional, but effective.

"Jongdae was sick, yes, but as I’m sure most of you know, he had the tendency to overindulge in
drink."

There’s a whisper of agreement that runs through the pack, and Jimin takes it as a good sign.

“So while my father has shown signs of clear improvement, the healer, Haneul, has informed me
that Jongdae refused to give up his vice, weakening his ability to fight off this unknown malady.”

“How does it spread?” Someone shouts.

“Are there any more fatalities?”

“How many are sick—”

“Please,” Jimin calls levely, holding his closed fist up once more. “I promise to tell you everything
I have been made aware of. As of now, Jongdae is the only fatality. All we know is that he was
showing symptoms, but whether or not it was this particular illness that killed him, we cannot say
for certain. So far, a little over a dozen have shown signs, yet we do not yet understand how it
spreads. Members of the same house; though in close quarters, are not equally affected. I have been
at my father’s bedside on numerous occasions while he fights his own sickness, but I myself have
remained well.”

Jimin’s eyes sweep the crowd, waiting for them to still and listen before continuing.

“There is more," he calls, trepidation causing him to hesitate. "As some of you know, these last few
months have not been easy. The harvests were not plentiful, and our storehouses are low. With my
father falling ill, I took it upon myself to devise a hunting party that entered Soksagim in search of
game.”
Jimin takes another deep breath, doing all he can to prepare himself for the next part.

“The spoils of the hunt were plenty, but there was something else we caught.”

The crowd is as silent as the grave, and Jimin’s gaze runs over too many faces, too many waiting
eyes, the details blurry.

“We pass around tales of the forgotten wolves in the forest. Rogues that live in the woods.
Yesterday we discovered they weren’t just tales and stories, but are as real as you and me.”

The quiet is once more ended by the exclamations of the pack, an outpouring of fear and panic.
Jimin’s head protests again, his patience wearing thin as they shout over each other, disbelief
warring with dread and outrage.

He can’t understand what they’re saying and everyone is speaking at once. It’s never been like this
before, the pack showing deference to his father when he occupies this chair, and Jimin cannot
stand the noise any longer.

“QUIET!”

The voices cut off, and out of the corner of his eye Jimin can see Namjoon’s impressed expression
aimed his way, while the rest of the village stares up at him in various degrees of shock, surprise,
and even awe.

“The rogue was found hunting in our territory, and though the usual sentence for such is death, it
was I who spared his life. That may anger some of you, and others may not understand, but I
remembered the old stories. It is clear now that they must have come from somewhere, since they
are based in truth. Which means those before us may have dealt with them, and if so, how many
are there? If we have coexisted for so long, perhaps they are peaceful. After all, they have left us
alone all this time, but I feared that would change if we killed one of their own. I have brought him
here for questioning, and hope to find out more about him and his people, and so far, he has been
nothing but cooperative.”

“Where is he now?”

“Is he violent?”

“How can we trust anything he says?”

Jimin wants nothing more than to command for them to be silent again, but a voice speaks up that
has his omega’s haunches rising, the urge to growl overpowering while his other half desires
nothing more than to get away.

“We lack food, as you’ve already said. This rogue that you have brought into our home is using up
our resources, taking from yours and mine when we have little to give.”

Jimin stares Doyun down, anger heating him from the inside and causing his wolf to pace
restlessly.

“He takes from no one,” Jimin declares, tone as hard as steel, directing the fire in him at the alpha.
“I have provided him with my own clothes. My own meals, to assure as such.”

“So you will starve for the duration of his captivity? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t have to now,” Jimin calmly voices. “He can have Jongdae’s share.”
Despite his bravado, a chill runs down Jimin’s spine at the fury he sees in the alpha’s expression,
and he remembers hearing that the two had a somewhat unlikely friendship. The village's angry
drunk close with the resident bully who thinks too highly of himself.

How fitting.

Jimin does his best to ignore him, and addresses the other wolves gathered.

“I understand this is a lot to take in, but I would rather you know than keep it from you,” he swears,
experiencing more guilt over that particular lie. “I will do all that I can to find out everything there
is to know about this other pack, but until then, I would ask that you stay away from Soksagim
forest. This includes the woodcutters. There will be work elsewhere, I assure you. For now, we
have doubled the guard around the gates. As soon as I learn more, you will be informed. That is
all.”

Despite the dismissal, he stays seated, allowing a queue to form as people wait to be allowed onto
the dais, clearly eager to unburden their concerns onto Jimin, looking for answers. Yoongi directs
them, vigilant as he allows one forward and stands like a barrier between the others while
Namjoon remains at his side, ready to keep track of the time and usher away any who linger.

One of the first in line is the same woodcutter from before. The one who swore he was chased out
of Soksagim. Kyeongsu is his name.

“I tried to warn you what was out there,” he whispers, eyes wide and manic as he twists the
material from his worn cloak in his hands. “I told you, and everyone who would listen that those
woods are dangerous. That they hold beasts.”

Jimin purposefully softens his features along with his tone, attempting to make himself appear as
calm and sympathetic as possible.
“I understand your concerns, but I must tell you that the rogue we captured yesterday was at the
end of his rut cycle, so if he was what chased you out of the forest that day, then it was only a
territorial response from his wolf, nothing more. He has been amenable, despite his current
circumstances.”

Kyeongsu appears taken aback, but he gives a somewhat shaky nod and climbs down the dais
himself to make way for the next in line, muttering the entire way.

The questions Jimin receives from those who approach are not at all what he expects. He comforts
a few anxiety-riddled wolves to the best of his ability, reiterating that when it comes to the
spreading illness, there is; unfortunately, much they still do not know. He also reassures that the
rogue poses no threat, and is being held in a secure location with no possibility of escape.

That lie comes easier than it should.

What he isn’t expecting is the multitude of alphas coming to offer their condolences on the well-
being of his father. Jimin’s smile is tight while he thanks them for their concern, assuring that his
father is steadily recovering. None of them seem to acknowledge that, and if he is to be honest,
they don’t seem too concerned with their lord at all.

Jimin’s stomach roils distastefully when he picks up on the blatant flirtation and suggestion that he
is repeatedly subjected to. Nearly every unattached alpha that approaches seems to allow their
scent to leak out in droves, as if the smell of them will be enough to gain his omega’s favor. Their
intent becomes painfully clear, and as soon as Namjoon detects as much, he sends them away, only
for the next alpha to make the same mistake.

Jimin rises from the seat just as he sees that Doyun is next in line, wanting to avoid any sort of
exchange between them that will do nothing but further sour his mood for the remainder of the day.
He sends a nod towards Namjoon to take any questions in his place that he sees fit and disperse the
crowd, turning quickly away before anyone else can try and gain his attention.

Jimin catches Taehyung’s eye and beckons him to follow as he disappears into the corridor and
away from the Great Hall.
“I think that went well.”

He can't help but let out a very undignified snort at the claim, his eyes shining in gratitude when
they meet Taehyung’s, visibly relaxing from his presence.

“I’ll be lucky if they don’t send a mob after me,” he mutters, remembering Jeongguk's earlier
words.

“I think you don’t realize just how loved you are by the pack,” Taehyung answers seriously, and
Jimin raises a brow at him, shaking his head in clear denial and disbelief.

“And I think you’re confusing love with the desire to rule. Did you see all those alphas? Nearly
every one of them spoke as if my father was already dead in the ground. Many of whom have
shown no interest in me before, let alone had a conversation with me, and now that the severity of
this sickness is made common knowledge they choose this as the perfect time to woo and court
me.”

Taehyung sighs, shaking his head in empathy.

“You said that your father is showing signs of recovery?”

“That is what Haneul told me earlier.”

“Then perhaps you will not have to deal with such advances much longer, once your father
reclaims his place.”
“Even if it is put off, it won’t be forever. I will eventually be made to choose a suitable mate.”

“So long as it is your choice,” Taehyung points out, aiming to set his mind at ease, but Jimin
shakes his head, still weary and cynical.

“It’s hardly a choice when I find none of them suitable.”

“Ever the optimist.”

“As always. I need you to do something for me.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to fetch me the tailor.”

Taehyung’s boxy smile turns into a grimace, and Jimin stops short.

“What is it?”

“Hoseok delivered the list of those showing symptoms and the tailor is on it.”

Jimin curses under his breath, his eyes shifting as he thinks.

 “Can you bring me Seokjin, then?”

“It may take awhile, he’s still out on his boat,” he answers, pointing to the frosted windows that
face Lake Geoul, where many small vessels continue to drift along the water.

“Measuring tape, then? I’ll do it myself.”

Taehyung inclines his head and rushes off to find just that, while Jimin makes his way back
upstairs.

Chapter End Notes

Tell me your thoughts.

 The Cabin and the Tailor's
Chapter Summary

“You smell like him. Your rogue.”

“He’s not mine,” Jimin repeats, tone indignant.

Taehyung shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he makes another sharp turn.

“Perhaps you should tell him that."

Chapter Notes

Hi! I wrote this fairly quickly and didn't edit too much, so I hope it makes sense, and
that you enjoy. Happy new year everyone!!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jimin is digging around in his wardrobe when Taehyung finds him, eyes wide and a coiled
measuring string grasped in the palm of his hand.

“What are you doing?” he wonders, coming further into the room, nose twitching at what Jimin
can only assume is the lingering smell of Jeongguk.

“The cloak my mother kept is in here somewhere. I know it is,” he answers in frustration as he
continues to rummage through the neatly folded stacks.

He gives a victorious cry once he finds it, cut off by a cough as his nose is assaulted with the dust
it’s soft fur has been accumulating all these years tucked away. It had been a courting gift from his
father, though his mother had never worn it.
“Too cumbersome and heavy,'' she complained in secret, though kept it well, with the promise to
pass it down to the future alpha and heir of the Park pack that she would bear.

Though that particular hope would never come to fruition, and Jimin couldn’t bring himself to
make use of it.

It wasn’t meant for him, after all.

It should be something he passes on to his mate, but the idea has a rotten feeling curling in his
stomach, filling him with a sense of wrongness that he just can't shake.

However...

There’s something about giving it to the rogue alpha held captive in the next room over that makes
him feel strangely elated, as if he’s doing something wrong, but knows he won’t be caught, the
significance lost on others.

Taehyung watches him as he goes to the window, opening the same one Jeongguk climbed in
through the previous night, a small smile tugging on his lips unbidden. He feels unhinged,
thoughts of the alpha swirling in his head making him giddy, as if he’s eager to replace the
experience of all those others in the Great Hall with something else.

Something more preferable.

Or more accurately, someone…

Jimin keeps his grip tight as he shakes out the cloak with fur as dark as night, the weight of it just
as burdonsome as his mother had said.

According to his father, he had skinned the prize from a great bear on the outskirts of Soksagim
Forest, the animal terrorizing their livestock and leaving him with the scar that nearly blinded his
left eye, his father miraculously walking away with the cloak and enough meat to last the pack
several weeks.

A fair trade, he’d claimed.

Jimin brings the cloak back inside and adds it to the growing pile of clothes he’s gathered, joining
some of his father’s thick tunics that he borrowed, as well as a few pairs of trousers lined in wool.
It gets quite cold come nightfall, and Jimin wants Jeongguk to be comfortable. He’ll have new
clothes adjusted to his specifications as fast as he’s able, but until then, these will have to do.

Approaching Taehyung, he accepts the offered measuring tape and thanks him for it before hiding
it away in his sleeve.

“What are you going to do about him? The rogue,” Tae elaborates, expression speaking to his
curiosity.

“Take his measurements and make a suitable wardrobe for him. I’ve done it before, it’s just been
awhile—”

“No, I mean...how long do you intend to keep him here? He can’t be a prisoner forever, can he?
Will you try to release him or attempt to assimilate him into the pack?”

Jimin meets his friend’s familiar expression. The same one that speaks to serious matters he would
rather avoid, and his shoulders sag in response, because he doesn’t know.
“I have no answers,” he admits, feeling disappointed in himself for not thinking clearly. For not
formulating a plan beyond save him.

Taehyung drops it, sympathy and understanding painted across his features.

“Shall I go in with you, then?” he asks, nodding towards the pile of clothes.

“I was hoping you could bring me the tailor’s key. I’ll need a few things for him.”

Taehyung nods, exiting the room and going to complete his task. Jimin gathers his supplies,
bundling the pile of clothes in his arms before leaving his chambers and making his way down the
hall.

Sejin is back on duty, and Jimin smiles kindly at him as he hurries to open the door, no longer
questioning if he should accompany Jimin inside. Still, he does take Namjoon’s plea to heart.

“Could you leave it slightly open? I don’t foresee needing any assistance, but just in case.”

“Of course, my lord,” he agrees, bowing his head.

“And also, can you see that our guest’s midday meal is delivered soon?”

“Of course.”

Jimin enters the room, Jeongguk’s eyes finding him immediately from his position on the bed, a
light to them that likely wasn’t there before as he gains his feet. He’s undoubtedly bored, being
cooped up for long periods of time will do that to any wolf, even more so if you’re being held
prisoner.

And Jimin is not ignorant to the fact that he's the only person Jeongguk has to talk to, serving as a
break in the monotony.

“What’s all this,” he asks, curiously eyeing the pile in Jimin’s arms.

“You need clothes,” he answers, placing everything on the bed with a relieved sigh before
snatching up the measuring string from out of his sleeve. “Clothes that actually fit you.”

At that, he can't help but eye his own garments stretched indecently tight over the rogue’s body,
the image a terribly distracting one.

"I have clothes," Jeongguk brattily points out, "at my home."

There's a brazenness to him that Jimin finds oddly charming, which might explain why he enjoys
purposefully riling him up.

"Oh? Draw me a map to where you live and we'll retrieve them for you."

Jeongguk stares at him in unimpressed apathy, though there's something bright in his eyes that
makes it feel as if he's on the verge of smiling, and Jimin has to fight to keep his own at bay.

The rogue moves, seemingly ready to be accommodating, and comes closer towards Jimin,
appearing as if he’s about to speak again when his nose scrunches up, eyes narrowing while a look
of displeasure crosses his features, turning them sour.

“What? What is it?” Jimin asks, concern laced in his tone.

“Nothing, I…it’s nothing,” The alpha assures with a shake of his head, a look of confusion
overtaking his handsome features before his expression smooths out. “Where do you want me?”

“I'm sorry?”

“You are going to take my measurements, correct?” he asks, unsure, inclining his head towards the
measuring string still clutched in Jimin’s hands.

“Oh, right. Yes, of course. Next to the windows should suffice. I’ll need the light.”

Jeongguk goes easily enough, straightening his posture while Jimin walks to the writing desk near
the door, opening the drawer that houses the parchment, ink, and quill, and then moves to stand
before him. He sets his supplies down on the wide sill, but keeps the measuring string in hand.

“Can you hold your arms out for me, please?”

Jeongguk complies, eyes focused somewhere over Jimin’s shoulder as he does so, and Jimin can’t
decide if the lack of the alpha’s attention is a blessing or a curse.

He stretches the string taut, pinning it at the start of Jeongguk’s right wrist with his own fingers as
he measures up one arm and then the other, writing it all down on a small piece of parchment. He
circles behind his body, smoothing the string out over his shoulders next.
The alpha is broad. Jimin Can feel the heat and strength of the corded muscle beneath the tips of
his fingers when he traces over them, and struggles to swallow. It feels as if a current pulses
through his skin at the contact, traveling throughout the entirety of his body until it leaves him
sensitive and hyper aware. Jimin removes his hands quickly, circling back around to Jeongguk’s
front, unable to meet his gaze this time, afraid the rogue will see right through him.

“You smell.”

“I beg your pardon,” Jimin demands, feeling sudden offense and confusion, though the rogue's
wide eyes and parted lips as he rushes to explain makes it hard to stay mad.

“No, I mean…your scent. You don’t smell like you, anymore. You smell…”

Like other alphas.

Jimin sighs as understanding dawns.

“It’s a long story,” he mutters, tone weary while he leans forward, arms around Jeongguk’s middle,
encircling his waist with the tape.

“I have nothing but time,” the alpha jokes humorlessly, and Jimin cannot fault him for the bitter
note in his tone.

He knows he doesn’t have to explain, but he also can’t deny the desire to do so, finding a confidant
in the rogue, despite being an unwilling one. He's the only person who's removed from the
circumstances Jimin faces. The only one who doesn't have a stake in it, nor an opinion he wishes to
force on him. Jimin can talk and Jeongguk can listen without the burden of bias. Even if it's only
because he's bored.
“I held a pack meeting in the Great Hall earlier. News of your capture isn’t the only incident that
has us on edge lately.”

He tightens the string with a sigh, eyes widening at the low number; at least when compared to his
shoulders, his waist is tiny.

“To be perfectly honest, I am in this position because my father is ill. He isn’t the only one, either.
There is a sickness that seems to be spreading within our pack, and the cause is still unknown.”

“For how long?"

"A moon phase. It started with my father, but now others are showing signs."

"So...you’re low on food, there’s a plague going around, and you hid a prisoner within your walls,”
Jeongguk lists off, raising a brow at Jimin. “Is this...what a typical day looks like for you?" He
asks, appearing almost genuinely concerned, and Jimin can't help but laugh at the subtle teasing.

"You should see what I can accomplish in a weeks time."

"At this rate I'm not sure if I'll make it that long," he grins. "Still doesn’t explain why you’re
covered in alpha.”

“I’m getting there,” Jimin chastises, tightening the string. “As I said, my father is sick. The
unmated alphas know that with him ill, there is a chance he will not survive. Before he passes, their
easiest chance of becoming lord is by mating me.”
“Why would you need a mate? And why would they become lord?”

“Because I'm an omega.”

Jeongguk’s eyes narrow.

“That’s the second time you’ve said that like it’s an explanation. I don’t understand what your
status has to do with anything. You're the high alpha's heir, and from what I've seen, plenty capable
enough on your own.”

Jimin feels his stomach flutter, a warmth pooling inside that calls to both him and his wolf.

“Most of my pack wouldn’t see it that way,” he reveals on a whisper, arms once again wrapping
around the alpha, the measuring string encircling his hips this time.

“Sounds to me like you need a better pack.”

Jimin chuckles at the fanciful idea, shaking his head while trying to focus less on their proximity
and more on the task at hand.

“Unfortunately, if my father’s healer informs me that he is not recovering, it is my responsibility to

choose a mate. If he passes and I am unmated, the head alpha’s position will become fair game and
there will undoubtedly be infighting. As such, there is no knowing what would happen to me,
though I’ve already imagined numerous horrors.”

When Jimin glances up again, he’s startled to see that there’s barely a breath of space between him
and the rogue, but moreso, he’s surprised to see the fire burning in Jeongguk’s eyes, an inferno of
silent fury that has that dark hue appearing almost vermillion.

"What do you mean," he asks calmly, though Jimin knows it to be a front, his omega sensing the
tension mounting beneath his skin, thrumming with barely concealed anger.

Could all that be for me? For the prospect of coming to such a cruel end? Could it...

He wants to choose his words carefully. Soften the truth, but he knows it's likely the alpha will see
right through such an attempt and opts for brutal honesty instead.

"In the past, the offspring of an overthrown or deceased alpha were usually made an example of.
One way or another."

He doesn't have to elaborate, and hears it when Jeongguk inhales, deep and shuddering, letting it
out forcefully slow. Jimin lowers his gaze, watching as he clenches and unclenches his fingers into
fists until the knuckles are a stark white. He does this several times, only stilling once he seems to
calm himself.

"And you are...at peace, living with the possibility of such a thing coming to pass?"

Jimin smiles, recognizing that he's trying so hard not to offend him, and he finds it to be a strangely
sweet gesture.

"At peace? No. I recognize it as a potential outcome, but if that particular fate is what awaits me, I
do not intend to meet it quietly."
Strangely enough, Jeongguk bestows him with a look that could almost be one of pride.
Admiration, even, before the dark cloud that covered his features earlier rolls back in like the
beginnings of a storm.

“I feel I must inform you, the longer I am here, and the more I learn of your pack, I become
increasingly eager to put as much distance between me and your people as possible.”

Your pack. Your people, not 'you.'

Jimin’s lips twitch, but still, he knows his smile is filled with sadness rather than joy.

“I do not blame you, but it has been our way. It's how my father claimed the title. Not through
inheritance, but combat. Since becoming head alpha, he’s done all he can to change things, but
some are still faithful to the archaic methods of the past, and we’ve always feared that despite the
laws he’s implemented, without him around to enforce his morals and beliefs, those laws will fall.”

It falls quiet after his explanation, Jimin taking the time to study the alpha's bothered expression,
frown deepening when he shakes his head.

“They called me an animal when I was first captured,” Jeongguk mumurs, and Jimin remembers it
vividly, Doyun’s words echoing in his ears. “The irony.”

Quiet returns to the room, the only sounds being that of the crackling fire and the swipe of Jimin’s
measuring string.

“Your legs, next,” he softly informs, voice breathless in the awkwardness of it, eyes wide as he
lowers himself to his knees, suddenly weak once he witnesses that fury in Jeongguk’s gaze fade
away, till only the fire remains. Jimin's hands tremble while they reach for him, hesitant, as if
seeking approval.

The rogue remains silent and still, refusing to take pity on him as he observes, almost like he's
waiting to see what Jimin wants. What he'll do. As such, the omega swallows, and decisively
gathers what courage he has in order to measure first one leg and then the next, an easy task
compared to what awaits him.

“Now your thighs,” Jimin husks out, eyes wide when they meet the alpha’s once more, filled with
nerves.

No matter what he does, Jimin can't shake the feeling that he’s doing something wrong, well aware
that his touch isn't altogether innocent as he measures him, as if the reason for doing so serves as a
facade, nearly smothered by the desire laced in his lingering touches, the unsubtle connotations of
lust. He knows it, yet this situation has provided him with a viable excuse to indulge, allowing him
to get away with it.

It seems they both realize it's far from innocent, if the alpha's half-mast eyes and uneven, hitching
breaths are anything to go by.

Jeongguk steps forward with one leg, making it easier for him to access, and Jimin sucks in a
sharp, stuttery inhale as he wraps the thick muscle with the string, hard and solid beneath his hold
and so alluringly hot.

Gods above, he is out of his element.

Once finished with the first, the rogue steps back with that leg and steps forward with the other,
Jimin measuring the second thigh.

“Your, um…your inseam, now.”

Again, Jeongguk doesn’t speak. The only thing he offers is that weighted stare, his eyes alight,
expression hard to read.

But his scent.

It leaks out in droves, blanketing Jimin to the point where he feels lightheaded and disoriented with
it. Swears he can taste it in his mouth.

Rosemary and cloves.

As if compelled to do so, Jimin lowers his own gaze, and stares openly at the center of Jeongguk’s
trousers. His mouth dries, lips chapped, and he doesn’t think, doesn't consider the ramifications as
he traces his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, a greediness overtaking him as his mind
becomes focused with a singular intent fueled by the obscene, reaching out—

“Careful, foolish omega,” Jeongguk warns in a labored growl, raising the hairs on the back of
Jimin’s neck from the sound alone, hands frozen in mid air, their eyes meeting once more. That
overwhelming desire is back, recognizable in the alpha’s gaze even as he appears to try and rein it
in. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Jimin’s lips smack, lids slowly blinking up at his captive, though he feels as if he’s the one who
has been taken prisoner.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he denies petulantly, hands lowering, something like
amusement briefly shining through the blatant want that has taken over Jeongguk’s features,
though it’s gone just as fast.
“And I’m sure you do.”

They haven’t discussed it. The obvious pull and attraction between them that somehow
relinquishes control to Jimin's omega, causing him to both do and say inadvisable things, but this is
the closest they’ve come to acknowledging that something is happening between them.

Something that is damn near impossible to ignore.

“I need to do your inseam.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You just threatened me.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a threat, pup. It was a warning.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Don’t play coy. You’re smarter than that.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, determined to glare at Jeongguk until he buckles under his displeasure, but it's
likely the rogue could care less. He has no reason to fear angering him. Jimin is not his lord, he’s
his captor, and though they’re being cordial, Jeongguk himself has no desire to be here let alone in
Jimin’s company.
He’s made that clear several times.

“My inseam, pup.”

“Do you always give people insulting monikers, or is it just me?”

Jeongguk actually smirks.

“Only my favorites.”

"Do you have many?"

"Many what?”

"Favorites?"

Something in those eyes softens.

"...No."

Jimin ignores the way his omega flutters at that, as if it's something to be proud of.
It's not.

“How many summers are you, anyways?” he wonders, eyeing a path from Jeongguk's calf to his
inner thigh.

He appears to be made up mostly of leg and muscle.

“Twenty-two.”

The answer brings a victorious grin to Jimin's lips.

“Well I’m twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four summers and you still act like a pup?”

Jimin’s smile vanishes, teeth gritting as he slowly gains his feet, irritation rising over the mirth in
Jeongguk’s eyes, even as he tries to placate him.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clear laughter in his tone while Jimin moves away from the
alpha.

“You think me a pup, then fine, I’ll act like one. No clothes for you.”

“Are you jesting?”

“Why would I?” he mutters, moving towards the door.

“Omega—”

“I have a name, Jeongguk.”

Jimin gasps when warm fingers encircle his wrist, gently pulling him back to face the alpha, his
eyes round with that softness to them that has Jimin oddly responsive, heartbeat thundering in his
ears. He didn't even hear him move.

“WIll you finish measuring me? Please, Jimin,” he adds for good measure, and Jimin immediately
feels his resolve crumble, anger disappating.

Jeongguk didn’t even apologize, nor did he promise not to call him any more nicknames, but
suddenly it doesn’t seem so important.

Jeongguk said his name.

His skin ignites from the sound of it, body sensitive and tingling, omega giving a rumbling growl
in the walls of his mind that more resembles a purr, clearly pleased.

With an exaggerated put-upon sigh, he nods, looking up from beneath his lashes just in time to see
Jeongguk’s smile deepen, feel the way his thumb strokes over the delicate skin stretched across his
knuckles and fingers.

In answer to the rogue's request, he slowly sinks back down to his knees right there, eyes
purposefully lingering on Jeongguk's own widened gaze, and he can admit to himself that he does
so with gleeful intention, greatly enjoying watching the alpha squirm with his actions. If Jeongguk
wants to tease, he supposes he can do so as well.

Jimin doesn't indulge too long, though. After all, he has no idea how deep the rogue's patience runs
and he's still unsure whether he wants to test the limits of it and see how far this pull takes them.

His hands are careful as he stretches the string up the inside of Jeongguk's leg, traveling up his
thick thigh, swallowing loudly when he gets closer and closer to the heat of Jeongguk's groin, his
scent thickening as if it emanates from that intimate part of him, once more making Jimin dizzy
with it.

The front of the alpha’s trousers tighten visibly, and Jimin gapes up at him, Jeongguk showing no
embarrassment nor contrition, bold in his body's display of arousal, and Jimin feels his own
responding in kind, polianthes and petrichor filling the room, giving away his clear interest,
slicking his cheeks and thighs the way it did the previous night, legs pressing tightly closed in
search of relief.

"Jimin," that deep voice husks, fingers twitching, as if all he wants is to grab onto him, pull him up
and—

Taehyung and Hoseok find them like that, the door quietly swinging open and announcing their
presence too late, and once noticed, Jimin's hands fly away from Jeongguk's trousers as if he's been
burned.

"Right, um, all finished," he exclaims, too loud and obvious even to his own ears.

The room smells like them. Like rosemary, cloves, polianthes, and petrichor, along with an
underlying layer of sex, the arousal so potent in the air that Jimin has never so desperately wished
for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
He gains his feet, crossing back over to the windows and quickly jotting down the measurements
he took, tentatively looking back at the others.

Taehyung appraises Jeongguk; having never seen him before, though the alpha either doesn’t
notice or doesn’t mind either way, his focus remaining fixed on Jimin, and he realizes this is the
first time he’s witnessing the rogue in the presence of another unclaimed omega besides himself.
Jimin holds his breath, waiting for Jeongguk to show a hint of reaction as Tae's familiar scent of
bergamot and citrus begins to waft into the room, filling the space.

Taehyung’s beauty is ethereal, often described by many as a rare jewel of the village, and his scent
is both refreshing and pleasant, the kind that most alphas find agreeable…

And yet Jeongguk never once looks away from him.

Jimin tries not to be pleased. It doesn’t mean anything, after all. Not really. He quells the
possessive streak his omega demonstrates when it comes to the alpha, reminding his wolf that he
doesn’t belong to him, nor does he rightfully have a claim, despite what his wolf thinks.

He also comes to the realization that since learning his name, Jimin hasn't revealed it to any other
soul.

Perhaps now is the time to do so.

Pushing down the irrational desire to keep it to himself—like a secret just for him—he makes
introductions, voice frustratingly airy.

"Hoseok, Taehyung, allow me to introduce Jeongguk. Jeongguk, this is Jung Hoseok, one of our
best healers. He saw to your care yesterday. And this is Kim Taehyung, my attendant."
Both Tae and Hoseok bow to him, treating the rogue like an honored guest instead of a captive,
expressions kind.

Jeongguk stares back at the two, and though he doesn't bow, Jimin is honestly surprised to see him
incline his head in acknowledgement.

“If you’re through,” Taehyung starts, “I have acquired the key to the tailor’s, and Hoseok is here to
inspect Jeongguk’s wounds.”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Hoseok is quick to interject, addressing Jeongguk.

Though he continues to remain silent, Jimin watches the alpha nod in permission, arms crossing
over his chest to swiftly remove his shirt and reveal the bandages beneath, free of shame. Jimin
turns away, already feeling his pulse quicken, cheeks turning red, and is met with Taehyung’s keen
stare. He fusses with some of the garments he brought as a means of distraction, listening to the
quiet questions that Hoseok poses, Jeongguk offering honest—but clipped—responses.

“It’s healing quite well,” Hoseok assures, louder than before so that Jimin hears.

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, turning just in time to catch Jeongguk redonning his shirt.

“Continue as you have been and it’ll disappear soon.”

Hoseok bows to Jimin; who thanks him sincerely, before he leaves the room.

While Jimin continues to fold the clothes there’s a knock on the door not long after the beta's
departure, and Taehyung moves to answer it.

It’s one of Namjoon’s men, holding a plate of food in one hand. Taehyung accepts it with a quiet
thank you, and sets it down on the corner writing desk.

“I’ll wait for you outside, my lord,” he offers, overly formal in the presence of another, bowing
before taking his leave.

They're quiet in the aftermath, both of them appraising the other, neither one bringing up what
nearly transpired between them, but Jimin fancies he can still recognize the effects of his touch.

But then Jeongguk raises a brow at Jimin, motioning towards the plate of food, and such thoughts
are pushed aside.

“You first.”

Right, he almost forgot.

“There is no need for us to split meals any longer.”

“Oh?”

“Someone died recently. His share goes to you, now.”

“How did they die?”

“From the same spreading illness I spoke of earlier.”

“So it is a fatal plague.”

“He’s the first and only fatality as of yet. He also overindulged in drink, which I’m told affected his
outcome.”

“I see, and now no one will object to the village prisoner being fed?” he asks, a bit of bite to his
voice.

“If they do, their objections will fall on deaf ears.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“We no longer have to share, so I assume you’ve already had your midday meal?”

For a moment, Jimin considers lying to him, but the last time he did so, Jeongguk called him on it.

“Not as of now, but I will,” he rushes to reassure, something warm given life inside his chest at the
realization that he cares. For whatever reason, the alpha cares.
Jimin thought his answer to be a satisfactory one, though Jeongguk merely stares him down, eyes
piercing with their displeasure that has Jimin fighting the urge to squirm on the spot. “I will,” he
insists, rolling his eyes when the corners of the alpha’s lips finally curl upwards, pleased.

“These are for me, then?”

Jimin turns when Jeongguk inclines his head towards the bed, regarding the pile of clothes he
brought in with him.

“They are. Until I can put these to use,” he explains, motioning towards the measurements he took,
“these will tide you over.”

Jeongguk approaches the pile, immediately singling out the black fur cloak, his hand running over
it slowly, reverently. He holds it up, shakes it out, clearly impressed with its size and weight.

“Are you sure this is meant for me?”

“I’m sure,” Jimin answers with a soft smile, unable to help but think that in Jeongguk’s hold, the
garment suits him better than it ever could anyone else.

“Seems too extravagant for a captive,” he remarks pointedly, and Jimin shrugs.

“It was meant for my brother, though it’s never been used.”

Jeongguk’s brow furrows.

“I was not aware you had a brother,” he says in surprise, which Jimin finds interesting.

It’s not as if they know anything about each other, after all. Jeongguk could have a multitude of
siblings. Hell, he could have someone waiting for him back home, and Jimin wouldn’t know.

The thought is a sobering one, as well as an unpleasant one, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth and a
clenching in his stomach.

“I don’t have a brother,” he reveals apathetically, head held high. “Not anymore, at least.”

Jeongguk’s eyes follow him as he moves towards the door, planning to take his leave.

“Jimin,” the rogue calls after him, stopping him in his tracks, and Jimin turns, expression urging
him to continue. “This is a cloak.”

“It is,” he agrees.

“What use have I for a cloak locked away in this room?”

Jimin gifts him with a small smile, fingers curling around the edge of the door as he pulls it open.

“I’m working on it,” he says in farewell, moving out into the hall, the heavy wood closing softly
behind him.
Taehyung stands at the window, face impassive when their eyes meet, moving into step beside
him, the two making their way down the hall.

“The servants have noticed the guards.”

“I had no doubt that they would.”

“Gossip has begun to circulate. It’s not hard to put two and two together. They know that your
rogue is on your floor.”

“He’s not mine.”

Taehyung snorts without humor.

“Not here,” he mutters, eyeing one of the maids they pass with narrowed eyes.

They remain quiet and vigilant as they leave the Great Lodge, descending the stone staircase in the
outer courtyard that leads out onto a path, one that will take them deeper into the village and the
square that houses most of the shops and markets, including the tailor’s store.

Everywhere they go, Jimin suffers the gaze of others, heavy eyes that bore into him, raising the
fine hairs along his skin, his wolf agitated.

Taehyung feels it too, scent souring, body tense.

“Perhaps we should’ve taken an escort.”

“I am inclined to agree,” Jimin whispers, trepidation filling him when they’re approached by an
alpha, determination hardening his features.

Strangely enough, the wolf stops short, face contorting unattractively, and what looks to be
discomfort crossing his expression.

Before the alpha has the chance to recover or speak, Taehyung pulls him onto a side street, their
pace rushed as he makes another sharp turn.

“What was that about?” Jimin wonders, voice winded while they quicken their steps.

“You smell like him. Your rogue.”

“He’s not mine,” Jimin repeats, tone indignant.

Taehyung shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he makes another sharp turn.

“Perhaps you should tell him that,” he mutters, bringing Jimin to a sudden halt in front of a
weathered door, fist coming up to connect with the surface in three hard knocks.

“Where are we?” Jimin wonders, not recognizing the address.

“A friend of mine lives here. They work in the kitchens.”

“They don’t live in the servant’s wings?”

“Don’t need to. They inherited their parent’s home after they passed.”

The door slowly creaks open after that, one wide eye staring at them cautiously before recognition
dawns.

“Taehyung,” the occupant greets happily, opening the door further, eyes widening exponentially
more when he registers Jimin standing next to him. “My lord,” he practically whimpers, quickly
averting his gaze and dropping into a deep bow.

He looks young, barely grown into adulthood, and by the muted scent of beeswax, the boy is a
beta.

“I’m so sorry to impose, Minhei," Taehyung apologizes, "but may we come in?”

“Yes, of course. Please,” he assures, stepping aside and motioning them through.

Once inside, Jimin watches Tae gift him with an encouraging smile, careful with the skittish youth.

“We’re grateful. Unfortunately, with the state of things lately, we’ve learned the hard way that we
would feel more comfortable in public with the presence of a guard.”

“Did someone do something?” he questions, clearly appalled by the idea.

“Nothing untoward, no,” Taehyung rushes to assure, "but for our own peace of mind, we would
feel a lot safer accompanied.”

“Of course. I’m not much of a detorrant myself, but if you don’t mind waiting here, I can go to the
Great Lodge and request the aid of a guard.”

“Are you sure you do not mind?” Jimin asks, feeling the terrible imposition they’re putting on the
poor young lad. He barely looks sixteen summers.

“It’s no trouble,” he reassures, and Jimin smiles brightly at him, internally promising himself to
send him a gift in gratitude.

“Thank you, Minhei, this is most kind of you.”

Minhei blushes, clearly affected by Jimin's praise, but shakes his head.

“Shouldn’t take too long. Fifteen minutes, maybe less. Make yourselves comfortable,” he offers,
gesturing to the chairs that surround the small table just off of the tiny kitchenette, reminiscent of
the one in Taehyung’s own room in the serving quarters in the omega wing at the Great Lodge.

They watch Minhei don his cloak; a worn thing that has seen better days, before he sets his face in
determination and leaves his small home. Once he’s out of sight from the foggy window, Jimin
collapses heavily in one of the chairs, Taehyung following suit, weary sighs escaping them both.

“Is there something you would like to speak to me about, now that we’re alone?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Jimin mutters, inspecting his nails.
“Need I remind you of what I walked in on earlier?”

“I was measuring his inseam,” he huffs, offended, looking away when Taehyung flashes him a
withering look, clearly unimpressed.

“And he just happened to be seconds away from tearing his trousers with that monster in his
breeches while you soaked your own?”

“Taehyung!”

“You’re far more obvious than you think you are. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I sure as hell
could smell it. Nearly fainted from how hard it was to breathe in that room. Even Hoseok rushed
his examination in an effort to leave as quickly as possible, poor thing.”

Jimin stares at him with wide eyes, mouth open in horror.

“Gods,” he groans in mortification, covering his burning face with his hands.

“Wanna try again?”

“Why should I tell you? You didn’t tell me about Yoongi,” he mutters petulantly, and Taehyung
purses his lips.

“Fair enough. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Jimin considers it before giving a sharp nod.

“You first.”

Taehyung snorts but concedes.

“There’s not much to tell,” he sighs with a shrug. “I like him, he hardly pays me any mind. The
end.”

“Oh, please,” Jimin huffs. “Look at you, you’re gorgeous. And if you like him, why are you so
horrible to him?”

“Don’t you think perhaps you’re judging me too harshly?”

“Not from what I’ve seen.”

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at him childishly, and Jimin returns the gesture with a giggle.

“Well, there has to be more to it, yes?”

It's Taehyung's turn to blush, and from that alone Jimin knows he's right.

“It was some weeks back,” he starts, running a hand through his hair in a familiar nervous gesture.
“It was the night of the Harvest Moon, during the Autumn Festival, you remember?”
“Hardly,” Jimin admits, the night a blur of avoiding alphas who attempted to pull him into the
dancing crowd of wolves, all while sneaking more drinks then what his father would deem
necessary in order to keep a sense of propriety.

“Well, that night I ran into Yoongi, quite literally,” he murmurs, blush deepening as he fiddles with
the ring on his finger that marks him as Jimin’s attendant. “He steadied me before I embarrassed
myself, was sweet really. Spoke more than I ever remembered hearing him.”

Jimin smiles softly, encouraging him to continue.

“We danced most of the night, and it was just…perfect,” he sighs, cradling his chin in the palm of
his hand. “There wasn’t that pull you hear about in those ridiculous stories, you know? The one
that makes your wolf useless and irritating, but I was okay with that, because I liked him. Wasn’t
till the next morning I found out otherwise. Found out a lot of things,” he grumbles.

At Jimin’s clear confusion, Taehyung explains.

“Nobody had seen him the next day. I overheard Namjoon talking about it, and I quickly offered to
check his quarters, eager to see him again. When I arrived at his room I could tell immediately
something was different. His scent was leaking out into the hall, and it was—”

Taehyung visibly shivers.

“—Powerful. Funnily enough, you know how incense messes with my nose?”

“Yes,” Jimin answers, already suspecting what happened.

“Apparently, I could hardly smell him because of all the damn incense they burn during the
festival. But of course the next day, I had no such problem, and it was as if I was no longer in
control of myself. Almost like…”

“Your wolf took over?” Jimin whispers in understanding, having gone through the same with
Jeongguk, and Taehyung lifts a brow at him.

“Exactly. I remember banging on the door, desperate to get in, and when Yoongi answered it was
obvious he was in the beginning stages of rut. We clawed at each other, tearing at our clothes,
scenting one another. My wolf has never been so happy, before or since. I don’t know why I did it,
what possessed me, but I bore my throat to him, practically begged him to mate me.”

Jimin releases a shocked breath, eyes wide and eager to hear the rest, to learn what happened to
make them end up where they are now.

Taehyung shakes his head, and Jimin’s heart clenches at the look of sorrow that crosses his
features, the other omega clearly hurting.

“Next thing I know, I’m being thrown out of his room, a disoriented mess left in the hall. He
wouldn’t open the door for me again. Demanded I leave, so I did.” Taehyung shrugs, pausing to
take in a deep breath before continuing. “After his rut ended, he sent me a letter detailing his regret
over his behavior, and the situation, apologizing. He claimed he took advantage of me, but when I
tried to assure him that wasn’t the case, he cut me off, avoided me afterwards. Acted as if it never
happened.”

Taehyung stares at the tabletop, and Jimin knows how proud he is, how sensitive. It explains his
hostility towards the alpha, clearly masking hurt with a curt attitude. Jimin’s expression is gentle as
he takes the omega’s hands in his own, bringing his wrists towards his face so he can nuzzle the
vulnerable skin, scenting him. Taehyung visibly relaxes, shoulders sagging while he gifts Jimin
with a fond smile.

“Just another dumb alpha,” he mutters with a brave face. "I’ll get over it.”
But they both know that’s likely not true, if his wolf's reaction is anything to go by.

It's a rare thing to find a potential mate that pleases the more animalistic side of their nature and not
just the human one.

“Enough about that. Your turn,” Taehyung declares, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“It’s a similar story, honestly,” Jimin murmurs. “I saw him in the forest and I just felt like he
was...mine. Like my omega claimed him. I Couldn’t watch him be killed, so I had him brought
here. It was like I was under a spell or something.”

“And your rogue?”

“He seems to feel it too,” he reveals, for once not arguing with the choice of words after what he's
admitted. “Though, neither of us have addressed it directly, and to be quite honest, the
circumstances we’ve found ourselves in are becoming increasingly indecent. I've been careless and
selfish with my body's reaction to him. I should put more distance between us before something
happens that cannot be undone, but...everytime I'm near him it's like being a victim to the whims of
my omega."

And it feels good. Freeing, he doesn't dare say aloud, but it's the truth all the same.

The sigh that leaves him is both weary and stressed, his next words carrying a sense of self-
deprication that brings with it it's own bitter amusement. "Leave it to my wolf to set its sights on a
rogue. Of course it would choose an unattainable mate.”
“Why unattainable?” Taehyung asks, tone serious.

Jimin raises an incredulous brow at him, momentarily speechless.

“Have you lost your senses?" Jimin demands, his disbelief mounting at the other omega's absent
shrug. "Shall I list the reasons why nothing can come of this silly fixation?" He holds his fingers
up as he does so. "One, he's currently being held prisoner in the room next to my own. Two, he
wants nothing more than to go home. Three, You really think the pack won’t be up in arms if I
mate a rogue,” he demands, Taehyung’s second shrug incensing him further.

“I know that with the support both you and your father have from people like Namjoon, and the
majority of the guard, any possible objections to such a union would be drowned out.”

Jimin shakes his head, unable to even entertain such a possibility.

"You're actually being serious right now."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I know nothing of him. He knows nothing of me. Support or not, the majority of the pack would
surely oppose such a union, and even though my father granted me the power to choose my own
mate, I very much doubt if he were well that he would bless such a union."

"And yet, if every obstacle were removed, and the conditions were right, would you do it? Would
you mate him?"
Yes, his wolf screams.

“I can't even consider it," he murmurs. "Sounds too fanciful to me."

“Doesn't have to be. Integrate him into the pack. Make him one of us. They won't be able to
disapprove, then.”

Of course they could. They will.

“You're still forgetting one important thing. Jeongguk does not desire to be one of us. He wants
nothing to do with the pack, and by extension, me. He’s made that abundantly clear. And claiming
him as one of our own won’t make the others forget he’s an outsider. They never do."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Tell me what?"

"That he wants nothing to do with you?"

"He didn't have to."

“Sounds to me like you’re just making up excuses as to why you can’t have something you so
clearly want, the way you always do.”
“They’re not excuses, they’re legitimate reasons.”

“Are they? Then what was the reason your private chambers were blanketed with the rogue’s
scent?”

Jimin freezes, eyes wide while Taehyung continues.

“He hasn’t left that room, correct? So why did yours smell as if he stayed there for hours?”

Jimin's mouth opens and closes, stuttering before he forcefully collects himself.

“You must speak of this to no one,” Jimin whispers, Taehyung unconsciously leaning in at his
demand for secrecy.

“I swear.”

Jimin looks around for good measure before answering.

“He snuck into my room last night.”

“How—"

“The windows. He jumped the ledge.”

“Gods,” Taehyung mutters, shaking his head before his eyes go wide.

“Jimin…he didn’t—you didn’t—"

“No, of course not. He demanded I let him go,” he explains, though wisely chooses to forgo the
information that it was made with the point of a dagger to his throat, in his bed no less. Taehyung
would be furious. "I couldn't very well send him back to his own room, the guards would have
locked him in the cells before I could get a word in, and I couldn't send him back the way he came,
either. He stayed in my chambers till I could sneak him back in."

Taehyung cups his chin with a dreamy sigh, Jimin's eyes rolling over his behavior.

"Sounds like those scandalous romance novellas Hoseok used to pass to us when we were young."

"Those were terrible, and again, nothing happened. I gave him my bed and slept in my armchair.
Woke up with a neck ache."

Taehyung snorts and gives an absent shrug.

“I wonder what his own pack must be like,” the omega murmurs, sounding sympathetic. “He must
miss them.”

Jimin doesn’t like the way his chest constricts, and he likes it even less when he feels that streak of
possessiveness from his wolf that wants nothing more than to covet the captured alpha.
But Jeongguk isn’t his, nor is he a possession to lock away and hold close. He wants to see the
rogue returned to his own, because if their positions were reversed, Jimin knows he would feel the
same as Jeongguk does.

With a sigh, he glances out the small window again in time to spot Minhei moving towards the
front door with Yoongi following close behind.

“Fuck me,” Taehyung groans, noticing as well.

Jimin flashes him a genuine look of sympathy before the door is pulled open and the two wolves
enter.

“My lord," Yoongi greets, bowing his head before extending Tae the same courtesy. “I’ll escort
you to your destination.”

Jimin expects a scathing remark from the other omega, and is surprised when none are
forthcoming. Taehyung seems to be ignoring Yoongi entirely as he rises to his feet, remaining by
Jimin’s side as they exit the cabin, thanking Minhei profusely for all his help.

"We were on our way to the tailor's shop," Jimin informs the guard.

“We’ll take the side roads,” Yoongi states, his gaze observant as he leads them quickly, no further
incidents forthcoming.

Jimin uses the key Taehyung acquired for him to enter the shop, Yoongi going in first and
Taehyung following before Jimin enters the dark building, closing and locking the door behind
them. He takes the time to admire the store's contents, bolts of fabric stored away neatly, a clear
system in place. There are premade clothes displayed, as well as a ledger that details anything
between payment and custom order requests.

Jimin pulls the list of Jeongguk’s measurements from his sleeve, picking out items that have been
dyed in darker shades, favoring black and deep greys for the rogue. He does grab a couple of white
tunics, as well as one in deep emerald, knowing these will offset the color of his hair and eyes, not
bothering to examine why he does so. Anything that doesn’t fit perfectly Jimin can always adjust
later.

He grabs everything the alpha could need, arms weighted down until Yoongi insists on carrying
the rapidly growing pile. He’s about to suggest they leave when he spots a selection of cloaks in
the corner. They’re nowhere near as nice as the one he gifted Jeongguk earlier, but he thinks of
Minhei and his tattered cloak, and what he did for both him and Taehyung and grabs one in a pretty
shade of blue.

Taking the time to tally up everything he owes, Jimin retrieves his coin purse from his belt and
leaves the sum beneath the counter, writing a receipt in the ledger as Taehyung grabs a large
satchel for Yoongi to store the garments in.

“Shall we?” Jimin asks, and the two nod quietly, Taehyung continuing to pay Yoongi little to no
mind, while Yoongi in turn steals curious glances at the omega.

They stick to the back roads and side streets again, making it to the Great Lodge without incident.

“Thank you for accompanying us,” Jimin says to Yoongi in gratitude, Taehyung impassive next to
him.

Yoongi seems unsure as he looks between them, and Jimin can’t help but wonder if Taehyung’s
newfound silence is throwing him off.

“I know this is unwelcome, but it might be best if you have an escort on all of your outings for
now. Things are tense, and these are stressful times.”

“I agree,” Jimin sighs, much to Yoongi’s relief. “I’ll discuss it with Namjoon. How long was he
kept answering questions in the Great Hall?”

“Nearly two hours, my lord."

“And where is he now?”

“The inner courtyard with the men, training.”

“When he’s through, send him to my study, please.”

“I’ll see to it. Would you like me to fetch some servants to bring these to your chambers,” he asks,
motioning to the garments.

“My study, please. That is where we’ll be,” he informs. “And can you request a sewing kit be
brought as well?”

“Of course.”

Yoongi bows again before taking his leave.

Jimin and Taehyung travel up the stairs quietly, their fingers interlacing as he leads the way to his
father’s study. They both breathe a sigh of relief once the door closes behind them, Jimin sliding
down the smooth surface and Tae running a hand through his dark locks, contemplative.
“Are you okay,” he asks the other omega, brow marred when Tae giving nothing away.

“Hmm? Oh. I’m fine,” he answers, though he looks anything but.

“You were uncharacteristically quiet around him.”

“I’m tired of being angry all the time,” Taehyung softly admits. “Talking about it with you made
me ask myself what’s the point?”

Jimin stands then, pulling him into his arms, scenting him with the intent to comfort, and Taehyung
collapses against him gratefully. They stay like that for a while, until a knock on the door disrupts
them. Jimin watches Tae smooth out his clothes and take a deep breath before answering,
motioning the servant inside. The large satchel of clothes is placed carefully next to the desk, while
the sewing kit is balanced on top.

The servant bows before taking their leave and Jimin sighs, his eyes staring out the window,
watching as the sun sinks lower and lower.

“Your shoulders must feel deeply weighted, my friend,” Taehyung whispers, and Jimin turns away
to glance at him. “You’ve been asked to take on a substantial burden. I want you to know you don’t
have to carry it alone. I’m here with you, if you need me.”

“I always need you,” Jimin answers just as quietly, sincerity laced in his tone.

Taehyung gifts him with a bittersweet smile, knowing how difficult it is for Jimin to ask for help,
but he surprises them both as he does just that.
“There is something I could use your assistance with.”

“Name it."

Jimin digs through the satchel, pulling free the blue cloak he purchased.

“Will you see that Minhei gets this? I’d rather neither one of us leaves the Great Lodge, and you
know his schedule better than I. Perhaps before he starts his shift in the kitchens you can pass this
along?”

Taehyung smiles softly, accepting the cloak with a fond look.

“I’d be happy to,” he assures, and Jimin sees the emotion in his eyes when they meet before he
shakes his head, noting the way it’s darkening outside. “I’ll deliver this now. Seokjin should be
here soon. Did you still wish to speak to him?”

“Yes please.”

“I’ll see it done,” the omega assures before leaving Jimin alone with his thoughts.

Jimin pulls the satchel to him, setting aside the sewing kit and inspecting the clothes with a critical
eye, reading the measurements and comparing them to Jeongguk’s own on the folded parchment
paper that is becoming more worn the longer he handles it.

Most of them have to be taken in at the waist.

Well, they don’t have to be, but Jimin cannot deny the clear desire he has to see the alpha in well-
fitted garments, and if he’s able to do it himself, he will.

Namjoon finds him like that, hunched over his father's desk, candles lit brightly so he can see as he
pulls the needle through fabric.

“You’re sewing?”

“I learned how to sew when I was a pup,” Jimin murmurs, keeping his focus on the dark shirt.

“Yes, but I’ve never seen you do it before.”

Jimin snorts as he receives the needle, holding it tightly when he finally glances up at the alpha.

“I’m told you were detained at the meeting for two hours.”

Namjoon sighs at the reminder, motioning to the chair on the opposite side, waiting for Jimin to
nod in permission before taking it.

“Yes, I was, and before you ask, no, it wasn’t worth it. Most of the questions I could not answer,
and the ones I did angered me.”

“Those questions wouldn’t be about my unattachment, would they?” Jimin scoffs, and Namjoon is
just as irritated.
“Yes, and they started with Doyun.”

“Do I even want to know what he had to say?” he wonders, going back to his sewing.

“He wants to speak with you. made one of those suggestions that really isn’t a suggestion, advising
that you be mated as quickly as possible to avoid potential coups in the event of your father’s
death.”

“His concern is touching,” Jimin monotones, uncomfortable when Namjoon remains quiet before
speaking again.

“He wasn’t the only one, Jimin. Everyone is mostly in agreement. Your father’s rule is but a
fledgling system compared to what he overthrew. There’s no telling who could be lying in wait,
eager to watch everything he built, crumble. They know dissention is unlikely if you have a mate
by your side.”

“My father is improving.”

“We don’t know if that will last.”

“Who am I supposed to tie myself to, then, hmm?” Jimin demands, hands shaking on their grip of
the fabric. He knows he’s getting irrationally upself, because everything that Namjoon is saying is
true.

He just doesn't want to hear it.

“That is your decision,” Namjoon answers softly, clearly attempting to soothe. "Your choice."

Jimin huffs and looks away.

A forced decision isn't a choice at all.

But the last thing this pack needs is another head alpha like the one his father bested in combat.
Jimin was too young to recall how things were before, but some of his earliest memories feature
the echo of screams and the smell of blood.

His oldest nightmare; which still haunts him to this day, is a testament of the savagery that was
once an everyday occurrence.

He shouldn’t throw fits, Jimin has known this was coming after all, but now that it’s here, he feels
like he wasn’t prepared for the reality of it, evoking sudden fanciful thoughts that make him
wonder if he could just disappear one night, leave the heavy responsibility for someone else to
handle.

But then he thinks of Namjoon and Taehyung, and every kind person who has ever accepted and
cared for him. Believed in him. He can’t leave their fate up to chance just because he despises his
own.

No, he has to stay.

“I’ll have Taehyung draw up a list of suitable candidates. I’m sure it won’t take too long.”

Despite himself, Jimin smiles when he sees the corner of Namjoon’s lip turn up at the subtle jibe
towards his subgender, and he feels grateful that at least he’ll always have people around him who
care and can brighten his mood.

There’s a knock on the door, and before Namjoon can stand to answer it, Jimin invites them inside.

“Come in,” he calls, grinning when Seokjin enters, the other alpha’s face souring when he notices
Namjoon, who returns the expression.

“My lord,” Seokjin greets, pinched, and it’s hard for Jimin not to laugh outright.

“Have a seat, Seokjin.”

He lowers himself in the chair next to the other alpha, doing his best to ignore him, his usual
pleasant scent of cinnamon sharpening, making Jimin's nose twitch.

“How fares the lake?”

“Freezing, my lord. There’s hardly any fish to be had.”

“I suspected as much. You were out on your boat during this afternoon’s meeting, did you happen
to hear word of it?”

“Yoongi gave me a summary. Seems you’ve caught a rogue.”

“I have, and I would ask for your advice.”

Both Seokjin and Namjoon raise their brows, waiting for Jimin to elaborate.

“Your grandparents were both…involved in the way the pack was run before my father took over.
They remember how it was. If I wanted to find a method to safely allow my captive outside, how
would I go about it?”

For once, Namjoon does not protest, and instead points an intense gaze at Seokjin as they await his
answer.

“I can tell you that. You want iron forged with wolfsbane. A collar or a bracelet would do, with just
enough wolfsbane to keep him from transforming.”

“And would it hurt? I don't want it to hurt.”

“It wouldn’t hurt if the proper amount was used. It would be irritating, but it wouldn’t be painful.”

“Can you make me such a thing?”

“Collar or bracelet?”

“A collar would be harder to remove.”

“I’ll start on it first light.”

“I would ask one more thing of you.”

“Go on.”

“Once you’ve made this collar, would you consider taking the rogue with you out on your boat. I’m
sure he can be useful.”

Seokjin doesn’t look too pleased with the request, and Jimin is proven right with his next words.

“I’m a fisherman, not a nanny. Keeping an eye on an escape risk and a liability while I try to do my
job will only slow me down.”

“Ah, but he’s not an escape risk out in the middle of a freezing lake.”

“I’m sure he’ll have no qualms making an attempt. I thought we needed more food, shouldn’t I
concentrate on fishing?”

“You said yourself there’s hardly any fish to be had." Namjoon points out, surprising Jimin. He
honestly expected more of a fight from him about his unvoiced plan, but he turns that
argumentative nature towards Seokjin instead. "Soon it’ll be back to the kitchens with you anyway.
Or the forge,” he mutters.

“You’re only okay with this because you know it'll irritate me.”

“And why would I want that?”

“Because you’re bitter I left the barracks and the Gods saw fit to bless me with so many talents.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” Namjoon says with an absent shrug, to which Seokjin smirks.

"Though oftentimes better than one," he quotes, and Jimin interrupts when Namjoon’s cheeks
flush, about to interject.

“Unfortunately for you, you’re the only one I trust with this task. The lake is the perfect location to
try out your collar, and I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself if the need arose, but
I can send someone with you if you wish for assistance?”

Baiting alphas is likely one of the easiest things in the world. All you have to do is question their
capabilities and they're rushing to prove themselves.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll get started on the collar and keep you informed.”

Jimin inclines his head, pleased, Seokjin gaining his feet to bow to him before his eyes glare at
Namjoon just as he takes his leave, the door closing softly behind him.

“When will the two of you reconcile, do you think?” Jimin wonders absently, going back to his
sewing.

“There’s nothing to reconcile.”

“You used to be quite close.”

“People grow apart, it’s normal.”

“Then why do you sound so upset about it?”

Namjoon looks at him with wide, caught eyes, and Jimin huffs a quiet laugh.

“Keep your secrets. I have no right to press anyways.”

The guard appears grateful, and Jimin’s smile twitches when he tellingly changes the subject.

“Yoongi told me you’ll be requiring an escort for every outing.”

“Seems smart. Everyone is either on edge or attempting to strike up a courtship, having a guard
with me could deter those bold enough to try something.”

“I agree, it’s a smart decision,” Namjoon admits, seemingly suspicious that Jimin is giving his
approval.

“Contrary to belief, I don’t have a deathwish,” he grumbles, offended. “I can be smart about these
things, you know.”

“You usually don’t like to be though, you can’t deny it.”

Jimin shrugs, admitting to nothing, before changing the topic of conversation. “I’m surprised you
didn’t object to my proposal.”

“About letting the rogue out?”

“Mhmm. You've been rather vocal in regards to your disapproval ever since I ordered him brought
here. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Namjoon sighs, fingers smoothing over the thighs of his trousers, an awkwardness to him that he
adopts whenever speaking in sentiment.

“It is unfair of me to expect your trust but to put no effort in returning it. I suppose there comes a
time when I must acknowledge that you don't always need my overprotectiveness telling you what
is a danger or not. You are a man grown, and are more then capable of taking care of yourself and
making your own decisions than I give you credit for."

Namjoon sighs, and Jimin knows how difficult it is for the alpha to say, assigned as the omega's
guard at such a young age, and taking to that task with the utmost seriousness.

"I don't know his intentions, and so I'll admit, I'm wary, but I only wish for you to be happy, Jimin.
You’re going to have to find a mate soon, and despite my reservations, as we spoke of it earlier I
know your wolf is drawn to him. These things are beyond our understanding or control, and is not a
mere inconvenience we can fight against. The sooner the rest of the pack becomes accustomed to
him, the better.”

Jimin is rendered speechless, because it sounds like he's beginning to imply the very same thing
Taehyung had earlier, which can't be right. His mouth opens and closes while he stutters.

“W-What—”
“The more the pack sees him out and about, helping with daily tasks and contributing to the
village, the more they’ll see him as one of us, and the less objections they’ll have to you potentially
choosing him as your mate.”

Jimin is beyond shocked, his mind thrown into pandemonium over the simple way in which
Namjoon explains it, as if it's that easy.

But it's not.

"How can you say that? They’d never accept him.”

“We’ve taken in outsiders before.”

“And they’ve always remained as such. Branded outsiders.”

“If there’s anyone who can change their perception it’s you.”

Jimin shakes his head in denial, hands still on the needle and thread, shaking, unsure of what to
do.

“I know nothing of him."

"An easy fix. Seems like he's going to be here a while."

"Yes, held captive against his will. He does not wish to stay here.”

“I’m sure you can change his mind as well. Help him find a reason to.”

They sit in silence, the words hanging heavily in the air while Jimin considers it, only to
immediately reject the idea. He can't keep Jeongguk from his home and family for his own selfish
reasons. He'd never forgive himself.

Those somber thoughts are interrupted by the growling of his stomach, and he flushes.

He skipped his midday meal again.

“I have things I must attend to,” Namjoon softly informs while gaining his feet, the conversation
put on hold. “Shall I have your meal delivered here, or will you take it elsewhere?”

“In here, please.”

“Make sure you eat it when it arrives.”

“I will,” Jimin assures with a soft smile, going back to his sewing once the door quietly shuts.

A servant enters ten minutes later, an omega that smells pleasantly like nut meg and creme. Hanyu,
she is called, and is usually the one responsible for serving him his meals in the Great Hall. She
carefully places a full plate on his desk as well as a tankard of water before bowing and leaving as
quietly as she came. Jimin sews for longer still, until both Namjoon's and Jeongguk’s words about
eating his food echo in his mind and he reluctantly sets the sewing aside.

It’s still unfamiliar to dine in silence, used to the days of eating in the Great Hall, his father sat in
his chair at the head of the raised table while they ate with the soldiers and staff, and any other
wolf who wanted to attend, the cacophony of numerous conversations and laughter swelling around
him.

He really should make an appearance soon. It’s been quiet and relatively empty since his father fell
ill.

Jimin finishes his food quickly, a perfunctory task, and sighs, lacing his fingers together and
turning his hands out, a series of pops echoing in the quiet room. Packing up his supplies, he stows
them away in the satchel before throwing it over his shoulder and exiting the study, moving
towards his corridor.

He stops in front of the soldiers guarding the hall to his chambers, waving away their offer to carry
the bag for him.

“I’d like a bath drawn in my quarters, as well as my guest's, but please, don’t allow any of the
servants entry, I’d prefer it if you handle the task if it's not too much trouble.”

“Of course my lord. No servant has been allowed inside thus far.”

“Thank you. I’d like to keep it that way. For now, at least.”

They bow to him as he moves past, and Jimin is sort of getting used to the gesture, though it still
makes him slightly uncomfortable. He drops the satchel off in his room, rummaging through his
oils and soaps, trying to guess at what the alpha would find pleasing.
His hand stills on the thick pearlescent one, the same soap he used on Jeongguk the night before,
the scent smelling of his own polianthes. Jimin knows he shouldn’t, it’ll be blatantly obvious why
he’s choosing it, but a part of him doesn’t care, and an even stronger part of him wants Jeongguk to
smell him on his skin, to be wrapped up in his scent, a constant reminder on the alpha’s mind and
body.

He knows he could have one of the soldiers take these items to Jeongguk’s room, but he can’t lie to
himself, he wants to see him again, be in his presence. Jimin grabs the vials and the tunic he’s been
working on and exits his chambers quietly.

The guards let him in without question, and Jimin smiles when he spots Jeongguk seated in one of
the high-backed chairs in front of the roaring fire. He’s not sure if he imagines it, but the alpha
seems to brighten again when his gaze lands on him.

“I’m having a bath drawn for you,” Jimin says in greeting, holding up the vials before placing
them on the chest near the four-poster bed.

Jeongguk’s lips turn up in a smirk, fingers cupping his chin as a mischievous glint enters his eyes.

“Are you going to help me bathe again?”

Jimin scoffs, though his own lips betray him in a small smile of their own, cheeks flushing.

“Merely dropping these off this time, and I wanted you to try this on, see how it fits.”

Jeongguk eyes the shirt Jimin displays, and without further instruction, stands and removes the one
he wears, baring his chest to Jimin’s eyes for what has to be the fifth time, lacking embarrassment
or self-consciousness as always.
And yet he’s still not used to it.

Jimin passes him the tunic, careful not to touch the other, but it’s a wasted effort when Jeongguk’s
own fingers skim feather light over his inner wrist, zeroing in on his pulse point where his
heartbeat is noticeably quickened.

His hand falls away from him before he can react, the shirt in his grasp, arms lifting over his head
and sliding the material down his torso.

It fits…well. Yes. It’s…it looks—good.

Almost indecently so.

“How’s it feel? Is it comfortable?” Jimin asks, tone strangled.

Jeongguk twists, swinging his arms back and forth and eyeing the cuffs.

“It’s perfect,” he quietly praises, gaze sliding up to Jimin. “You did this yourself?”

“I didn’t make it, just some minor adjustments so it fits your frame better.”

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says simply, though his eyes are far too intense to hold.

Jimin doesn't know how to handle that type of gratitude, nor that type of attention, for once making
him flutter rather than recoil, so he changes the subject instead.
“Are you being treated well? They’re bringing you your meals?”

“They are,” Jeongguk answers, still staring. “Though no one speaks to me but you, and those you
brought earlier today.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure that will change soon.”

Jeongguk raises a brow at him, inquisitive, and Jimin smiles gently, posing a question, even if he
already knows the answer he'll receive.

“If there was a way you could leave this room, would you do it?”

“Is that really something you need to ask?”

Jimin giggles when proven right and warns, “It might be uncomfortable.”

“Explain.”

“A collar, imbued with wolfsbane to keep you from shifting.”

“I’ll do it.”

Jimin almost wants to narrow his eyes in suspicion at him over the quick answer, but he’s also
battling with his amusement.

“It hasn’t been made yet, and we don’t know if it’ll work or not. But if it does, you’d be able to go
outside, explore the grounds.”

Find a way to escape. Or a reason to stay…

“When it's made, I'll do it,” he repeats.

“You’re sure?” Jimin tests, and he can’t fathom why, as if his mind has decided that if Jeongguk
chooses to stay in this room, it somehow means he won’t ever try to leave.

A ridiculous notion.

“I’m sure.”

His stomach sinks and Jimin internally berates himself. He's not being fair.

“I’ll need to measure your neck, then.”

Jeongguk nods in easy agreement, and Jimin shivers. The neck is a sensitive and vulnerable area on
a wolf. Erogenous, even, and Jeongguk is giving him permission to touch his...
He still has the measuring string tucked away in his sleeve, along with the list of measurements
he’s already taken. He straightens the parchment out on the writing desk and once again sets aside
some ink and a quill.

Jimin unfurls the string, approaching Jeongguk with a fluttery feeling.

“Can you, um, pull your hair up for me?”

Jeongguk arms move up, gathering the long, midnight locks, hands trapping the curly strands atop
his head, the elongated position raising the bottom hem of his tunic, exposing the golden skin of
his midriff, and Jimin struggles to swallow.

He closes the distance between them, Jeongguk’s eyes focused on his face, the intensity of his gaze
never once wavering. Jimin is careful about weaving the measuring string between his limbs,
positioning it until it’s flush against his throat. He exhales, tightening it around, a tremor going
through his hands when he brushes the alpha’s scent gland and he’s hit with a wave of rosemary
and cloves, his own petrichor and polianthes thickening.

It's improper, the way his fingers want to grip and stroke as Jeongguk bares himself to him.

Overly sensual...

This was a bad idea.

He doesn’t realize he’s spoken the thought aloud until Jeongguk answers him.

“Was it?” he whispers, hot breath fanning over Jimin's cheek like a caress.
“I...I need your measurements.” Jimin husks nonsensically, and Jeongguk’s eyes are burning again,
traveling from his lips and back to his eyes, his voice an airy thing when he next speaks.

“So take them.”

“I’m trying,” Jimin nearly whines, candid when he reveals, “I can’t concentrate.”

Jeongguk tilts his head back even more dramatically, baring his throat further, and Jimin wants to
groan and growl. To complain that he’s making it worse, that he's doing it on purpose, but his body
is done listening to him, and Jimin finds his fingers moving seemingly of their own accord,
stroking down the side of that neck in an unnecessary motion, obvious in his designs, the alpha’s
scent so thick Jimin swears the room is fogged up with it.

Jeongguk’s warning growl shakes him from his thoughts, his wolf coming to attention.

“Foolish omega,” he murmurs, and though he tries to keep his voice firm, it wavers to reveal how
affected he truly is, torn between endeared and overwhelmed, a deep rumble in his chest that Jimin
can feel along his throat vibrating beneath the pads of his fingers as he warns, “I only have so much
control.”

Jimin’s wolf wants nothing more than to convince the other to lose what little of it he has left, but
the more logical part of him shakily makes note of the number on the measuring string before he
pulls it free, backing away quickly, moving towards the writing desk on quivering legs. His
shoulders tense at the feel of the alpha’s eyes boring into him the entire time, hoping that; even if
he smells it, he cannot hear the way slick clings to his inner thighs, the wetness making his skin
slide and stick.

He wants to address this impulse between them, demand answers from the rogue because he
simply has none himself, and his mind begs to be put at ease. He must feel it too. It’s clear that he
does…
He's just afraid to ask about the nature of it. If it's just attraction, or if his wolf is drawn to him in
equal measure.

And what good would it do either way? It wouldn't change their situation, no matter how much
Jimin wants it to, no matter how Taehyung and Namjoon try to convince him.

He writes the measurements down and exhales deeply, centering himself.

“Perhaps we should no longer be alone together.”

“Afraid of what might happen?” Jeongguk guesses, releasing his hair as he begins to remove the
shirt Jimin had him try on, those twin flames returning to him immediately after he redons the old
one.

“Not afraid,” Jimin denies, and his voice rings true. “But it would only complicate things for you.”

“And you? Would it not complicate things for you as well?”

He carefully forms a response that doesn’t actually answer Jeongguk’s question at all.

“My place is here, with my people. Soon, I will have to choose a mate who I find worthy enough to
help continue my father’s legacy and uphold our values. Just as your place is with your people in
the forest.”

Jeongguk gazes at him for a long while, his stare unnerving.

“You’re right,” he finally agrees, and his clipped, abrupt tone twists something in Jimin’s chest.

Because he doesn't want to be.

He nods, gathering the discarded shirt and the rest of his things before facing the wolf once more.

“Will you need any help with your wound or can you manage?”

“I can manage,” Jeongguk assures, voice softer this time, and Jimin can’t meet his gaze, grateful
when there’s a knock on the door to draw his attention.

“That’ll be your bath,” Jimin explains unnecessarily, moving towards the door to open it, trying
and failing not to feel like he's running away. “I’ll have the medical supplies sent over. Make sure
you clean it and wrap it in fresh bandages after.”

Jeongguk looks as if he wants to say something, but Jimin opens the door before he can, letting the
soldiers carry in the tub and buckets of steaming hot water. He meets eyes with the alpha once
more before slipping away, quietly moving down the hall to his own room.

His bath is already placed in front of the fire, steam curling off of the surface in wisps of fog. Jimin
breathes a sigh, fighting the urge to sink down to his knees and let the exhaustion claim him.
Instead, he gathers the bandages, salve, and the disinfectant, passing them off to one of the guards
in the corridor with instructions to bring them to Jeongguk.

When Jimin shuts the door to his quarters for the final time, he releases another weary breath,
disrobing as he moves towards the bath. Standing bare in the center of his room, he releases the pin
from his hair and then the tie, moaning when the heavy strands fall down his back, tickling his
skin.
 The appreciative noises continue as Jimin lowers himself into the hot water, neck lolling along the
smooth wooden edge.

He pictures Jeongguk in the room next to his doing the exact same thing. Wants to see the look on
his face when he uncaps the vial that smells heavily of his own scent.

He imagines the rogue's eyes widening, pupils blown wide while the irises tint red. Can envision
the way his grip would tighten around the glass, nostrils flaring. Maybe he wishes Jimin were there
with him, maybe his body hums with the same desire Jimin feels for the alpha, that thick cock he's
only seen beneath the hinderence of fabric hardening deliciously between his thick thighs…

Jimin gasps when his hand sinks beneath the water’s surface, as if he has no control of his own,
hearing the way Jeongguk's voice growled near his ear with the same sentiment.

I only have so much control.

Tentative touches grace his hard cock beneath the bath water, but not taking it further even though
he wants to, even as his entrance leaks...

Despite the fantasy he's weaving, it comes with the harsh reality that Jeongguk isn’t his. Won't ever
be, and like water to embers, it puts out the desire that has been burning steadily in his core.

It leaves him cold, instead.

Chapter End Notes

Thoughts?
 The Nightmare and Lake Geoul
Chapter Summary

"You smell like me."

Jeongguk sounds amused and frustrated in equal measure when he responds.

"You saw to that twice now."

Jimin is too tired to feel shame at being so easily caught out.

"Is that why you're so tightly wound?"

"I am not."

"You are," Jimin argues, leaning further into him. "Don't remember you being this
agitated the first night."

"I was in your room the first night. I had you in front of me, not in the next room
over."

Chapter Notes

Two updates in one month?! I'm on a roll. Thank you everyone for your patience and
lovely comments. They keep me going.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There’s screaming in Jimin’s ear, joined by the wail of an infant, and he feels it when his face
furrows, a wince squeezing his eyes closed tight enough to have bright spots dancing behind his
lids. He forces himself to look. To see, but can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from.
Someone calls his name and Jimin turns towards the familiar voice, desperate to respond, to shout
that he’s here, that he hears them, but his lips are stuck tight, not even a whimper able to break
through. He’s kneeling in the snow, the cold of it seeping up into his trousers, skin numb, shivering
with it. His hands fall to steady himself after he slips attempting to gain his feet, and when Jimin
looks down, he's horrified to see it’s not snow.

It’s blood.

And it’s everywhere.

His gaze flies up when he hears approaching footsteps, and no sooner has he laid eyes on the big,
black wolf that it simply falls and dies, collapsing heavily into the crimson river that stretches
between and swallows them.

Another scream rings out, shrill and manic, and Jimin closes his eyes once more, doesn’t want to
see—

“Look at me,” a voice whispers, and this time a whimper does leave Jimin’s lips, the sound of
Jeongguk’s deep baritone echoing in his ear—

His eyes fly open, panting breaths loud in the dark as he stares up at the high ceiling of his
bedroom, the nightmare clinging onto him still, slowly receding back into the shadows where it
belongs.

Jimin lies there, sweat beading up along his brow and dripping from his hairline. He’s shaking like
a leaf in the wind, holding onto the tree branch the same way he holds onto reality, his sanity, and
tries not to analyze why the nightmares have become far more frequent since Jeongguk’s capture.

Lying there motionless, Jimin feels his heart steadily slow in his chest, no longer beating against
his ribcage as if desperate to escape, and tries to relax further. He’s afraid to dream again. Can’t
watch that black wolf get swallowed up in a void of red.
Instead, he throws his blankets off, knowing that sleep is impossible now. Jimin dons his robe,
carefully guiding his feet into a pair of fur-lined slippers and makes his way to the large windows,
gazing up at the waning moon high in her sky, just barely visible behind Hogok Mountain.

It’ll be dawn soon.

Jimin stokes the dying fire in the hearth, adds more logs and then sets about lighting all the candles
in the room, needing the light.

If he can’t sleep, he may as well do something productive, and he still has an entire satchel full of
clothes that he can adjust. The high-backed chair in front of the fire is comfortable, and Jimin loses
himself in the repetitive movement of the needle as he takes in the waist of Jeongguk’s shirts, as
well as the trousers, so they’ll fit more snuggly.

His neck hurts by the time he looks up again, squinting at the sunlight pouring in from the
windows. Jimin sighs, eyeing the pile of finished clothes, far higher than the one of unfinished
garments he has yet to get to, a testament of how much work he's done.

At least something good came from the night, he supposes that’s all that matters.

Jimin goes back to sewing, trying to be mindful of his posture so that his pain subsides, not eager
for the resulting headache he knows he’s not far from.

A knock on the door has him pricking his finger, unable to help but stare at the blood that wells,
transfixed, and for a moment, he’s back in that nightmare—

The knock rings out again, and Jimin shakes his head, guiding the digit into his mouth and laps his
tongue over the miniscule opening.
“Come in,” he calls around it, removing the finger when he sees that it’s Namjoon with a plate full
of food. “Is that for me?” he asks, features softening as he inclines his head towards the meal.

“You skipped breakfast,” is Namjoon answer, setting it down on the nearby chest. “Figured you
were up to something and lost track of time.”

“You know me too well,” Jimin admits with a fond smile.

Namjoon takes the seat next to him, and Jimin can feel his inquisitive, keen eyes, working out the
details Jimin unwittingly gives away I order to come to a conclusion.

“You didn’t sleep much, did you?”

“How could you tell,” he murmurs, keeping his focus on his task.

“You’re still in your nightclothes. Your hair isn’t combed, and the circles under your eyes are like
khol.”

“That bad?”

“You need to sleep, Jimin.”

“Can’t. Having nightmares again.”

He peeks up at Namjoon’s sigh, a clear look of sympathy crossing his features.

“I had hoped you’d grown out of those.”

“You and I both,” Jimin smiles, almost self-deprecatingly, slowly going back to his needlework
even though his eyes are so blurry they’re nearly useless.

“Come back to that, then,” the alpha suggests, motioning to the clothes. “You’ve done more than
enough, for now. You should eat, gather your strength that way.”

“How are we on food?” Jimin quetions, and then slides his eyes closed in contrition.

“Apologies. I’m not trying to ignore your advice or discard it. Just tired. Can’t focus,” he admits,
and Namjoon gifts him with a small, affectionate smile.

“I understand. We’re making do with what we have, spreading it where we can so it’ll last, but
we’ll need to hunt again, and soon.”

“Can’t return to the forest,” Jimin huffs, sounding weary, and Namjoon shakes his head, morose.

“No, we can’t.”

“And the fish are scarce. I looked into the reports after what Seokjin said. He's right. We’re not
catching much, and the lake will soon freeze.”

The air is heavy with that spoken truth, and Jimin turns lowered lids onto his friend. For a moment
he sinks into the burden of expectation he bears, and lets hopelessness hold him in its grasp.

But he cannot wallow in it for long. He needs solutions.

“Where is there to go, then?”

“The plains to the west,” Namjoon suggests, but Jimin knows it might as well be a lost cause.

The plains will likely be covered in snow by now, or soon enough, and any animals that made use
of it’s plentiful grazing lands and streams would’ve likely moved on, nowhere for them to hide out
or hibernate in such an open area.

“Maybe,” he offers, not wanting to waste time or resources, but he can’t say if it’ll be a waste for
sure until they get out there and see for themselves.

“We could always ask the packs to the north,” Namjoon suggests, even though Jimin can tell it
pains him to do so.

“You know as well as I what that would accomplish.”

Favors don’t come free, and appearing ‘weak’ even to an ally pack is a potentially dangerous thing.
Especially since the duration of their alliance pales in comparison to how long they warred.

Namjoon releases a weary sigh and shakes his head, staring into the fire, face pinched in thought.
“We’ll think of something,” he assures, and the decisiveness of his voice puts Jimin at ease. “We
always do.”

It's easy to believe the Captain. To put his faith in those words. He has to, and he knows neither of
them will stop trying until they all get through this. It’s not in their nature to give up.

“Will you hand me my plate,” he asks with a smile, one that grows wider when the alpha returns it
with a small, melodramatic bow.

“Of course, my lord.”

Jimin snorts, but sets the needle and shirt aside and gratefully accepts the food.

________________

After Namjoon takes his leave and Jimin finishes eating, he further secures the long robe over his
night clothes, not bothering to make himself "presentable'' before he gathers the completed
garments and carries them to Jeongguk’s room. He'd undoubtedly be scolded if Namjoon caught
him, or by his father, if he was well. A lecture would undoubtably await conerning indecent
behavior for one of his station, and any omega, for that matter, willfully entertaining the company
of an alpha while in a vulnerable state of dress; or undress, as it were.

Sounds ridiculous in his current sleep-deprived state.

Jimin has decided that today he’ll try to find out more on where the rogue comes from, the pack he
belongs to and wants to return. He needs something to offer his own people, barely able to set at
ease the anxious wolves seeking answers whenever he meets their eyes, fearful that any day their
home will be invaded.
Jeongguk is reading when he enters, a surprising thing since Jimin didn’t think there were any
books left in the room. He seems to pick up on his confusion, giving the bound leather a shake
before motioning to one of the old chests.

“Found it in there,” he admits, not at all ashamed that he went snooping, though Jimin can’t very
well fault him for it. The alpha seems tense, eyes shifting, the muscle in his jaw twitching
periodically and a seemingly permanent furrow to his brow.

“Any good?” Jimin asks, attempting to gage his mood as he walks further into the room and sets
the folded pile of clothing on the writing desk.

“They’re children's fables,” he answers, tracking Jimin’s movements like a predator.

It feels dangerous almost.

Jimin likes it.

“They're quite dark, actually.”

"Hmm?" he asks, clearly distracted.

"The fables," Jeongguk elaborates, gaze slowly sliding up and down Jimin's form.

“Ahh,” he hums in understanding, a bittersweet smile taking over his lips. “My mother was fond of
fables.”
It’s quiet for a moment, Jimin taking some of the pile and moving towards the wardrobe as
Jeongguk continues to follow him with that intense stare.

It's never wise to turn your back on a potential threat, but it doesn't stop Jimin from doing so,
feeling anticipation in place of fear.

He must be far more exhausted than he originally thought if that is his thinking.

That he desires for Jeongguk to pounce—

“Who’s room is this?” the alpha asks, and it nearly makes Jimin stop midstep, feeling wrong-
footed, though he corrects himself quickly, keeping his voice impassive when he answers.

“It’s your room.”

“And before me?”

“Before you it was in disuse,” Jimin answers, pulling the wardrobe open, beginning to store the
garments away.

“And before that?”

Jimin’s shoulders rise to his ears, muscles tense. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose and
out through his mouth, relaxing before he turns.
“Before that, it was my brother's, though not for long. And before that, it was my mother’s. Her
nursery, to be precise."

Jeongguk looks as if he’s about to ask more questions, but Jimin interrupts him.

"They both died over a decade ago, so like I said, it’s yours for the remainder of your stay. Now, I
have some questions of my own.”

Jeongguk’s mouth closes slowly, eyes narrowed, a familiar mask pulled up over his features that
has a whine leaving Jimin’s wolf.

He soothes it quiet and holds his position.

“What questions?”

“Your pack,” he starts, getting right to the point. “How many are you?”

“You want to determine our size for what purpose?” he demands. “To see how much of a threat we
hold?”

“Merely to understand.”

“What is there to understand? We’ve lived in peace thus far. We can continue to do so.”
“I don’t know if that is possible anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because everything changed the moment we took you against your will,” Jimin answers with a
hardened edge, cataloging the way the alpha’s face falls.

“It doesn’t have to," he almost pleads. "We can go back to the way it was.”

“You’re asking me to take your word on faith. More than that, you’re asking me to tell my people
to do the same. To release you and hope there will be no consequences.”

“What is it you think I would do, hmm? Go to them and point the finger in your direction? That I
would ignite fury over this? At your expense.”

Jimin holds firm, despite Jeongguk’s accusation, frustrated that he can’t see it from his point of
view.

“I don’t know you,” he answers simply. “Nor do I know what you would do, or what you’re
capable of. That is why I’m asking these things.”

Jeongguk stares at him with something akin to disbelief, and also disappointment. Maybe even
hurt. But Jimin blinks and those emotions are gone.

“If you can’t take my word on faith, then there is nothing for me to say on this matter.”
“Jeongguk—”

“No matter what I say, it won’t be believed, correct? Then pick a number yourself and let that be
the end of it.”

Jimin glares at him, meeting Jeongguk’s matching heated stare without flinching away.

“You’re so frustrating,” he complains, features hardening further when the alpha gives a humorless
laugh.

“I’m frustrating?” he demands, spilling sinuously from his seat, arms spread and a fire in his eyes.
“I’m your captive and you call me frustrating!”

Jimin tries to keep his expression, but it warbles and falters, and the next thing he knows he’s
laughing. Can’t help it, really. An inappropriate reaction brought on by exhaustion, to be sure. And
his laughter nearly morphs into sobs when Jeongguk looks at him incredulously, his own lips
twitching, though he does not give in.

Jimin's eyes fall closed, a hand held out in an attempt to silently communicate regret.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes heavily, eyes opening once more, though he looks around and takes
nothing in. “For everything. I am not myself today,” he admits, frowning down at the rug that
covers the uneven stone floor, suddenly wanting it to swallow him whole, to be anywhere else.

He’s so distracted, he doesn’t register movement until Jeongguk is right in front of him, expression
softer, eyes kinder than before. A hand reaches up, slow, as if giving Jimin enough time to escape
if he wants. He does, but he wants to be caught even more.
Fingers slide up to his chin, grip gentle when he cups it between his fingers and turns his head
towards the light, studying his face in silence.

“You didn’t sleep?”

“I did,” he whispers, “just not enough.”

“More nightmares?”

Jimin hums in answer, lids fluttering, amazed that the alpha can deduce so much about him while
knowing so little.

The exhaustion must be the reason it takes him longer than usual to notice, but there it is,
polianthes mixing in with rosemary and cloves along Jeongguk's skin, and he gives another pleased
hum.

"You smell like me."

Jeongguk sounds amused and frustrated in equal measure when he responds.

"You saw to that twice now."

Jimin remembers his choice of soap, but is too tired to feel shame at being so easily caught out.

"Is that why you're so tightly wound?"

"I am not."

"You are," Jimin argues, leaning further into him. "Don't recall you being this agitated the first
night I used that particular soap."

"I was in your room the first night. I had you in front of me, not beyond a stone wall."

He couldn't see you. Couldn't get to you, Jimin's mind supplies in further explanation, and he
shivers at the thought.

The alpha sighs, and Jimin waits to be released. Dreads it, really, because the rogue’s touch settles
him, and he can’t remember the last time he felt safe. Protected. Like he could drift away and
Jeongguk would pull him back before he got too far.

“You should rest,” the alpha suggests, voice quiet. Calming.

“Don’t wanna wake up with another knife to my throat,” he slurs in jest, and Jeongguk gives a soft
laugh, one that he swears he can feel in the tips of his fingers.

“I meant in your own chambers.”

Jimin shakes his head nuzzling into the alpha’s palm and delighting in the sharp inhale it elicits.

“Don’t want to go.”

“Why?”

Because you’re here, he wishes to say, but doesn’t.

It’s obvious.

Jimin takes in a deep breath, their combined scents clouding his judgement as he noses along the
soft skin of his palm, moving down that big hand towards Jeongguk’s wrist, watching the way the
veins and tendons flex, prominent in his strong arms.

He remains frozen still as if he waits, waits to see how far Jimin will take it.

Jimin doesn’t know himself.

He trails his lips over Jeongguk’s skin, and every so often, they catch, tugging them open before
being released as he continues his path, reveling in the way the rogue trembles in his hold. A
powerful feeling, to have an alpha such as Jeongguk at his mercy.

Heady. Intoxicating.

“You smell…” Jimin's voice fades, and he indulges in another pull of his scent.

“How do I smell?” Jeongguk murmurs, encouraging, pliant in Jimin’s hold.

Like us, he wants to say.

“Delicious,” he hums instead, tongue sneaking out—

The hand is pulled from his grasp, and Jimin stares at his own empty one in confusion before he
blinks up at the other, the alpha clearly struggling, face morphed into something that resembles
remorse.

That appeases some small part of him, though the fact that Jimin so easily loses control around the
other, while Jeongguk is able to hold onto his own sensibilities should serve as an answer to his
burning question.

Jeongguk doesn’t feel the all-consuming want that plagues Jimin every second of every day since
first laying eyes on the rogue. If he did, maybe they both would have eagerly surrendered to it by
now.

“Y-You’re tired,” Jeongguk stutters, interrupting his thoughts like it’s an explanation, a claim that
he has Jimin’s best interests at heart.

And maybe he does. Maybe if it were a different alpha, he would’ve already taken advantage and
not thought twice about it. Of course Jeongguk isn’t cut from the same cloth, and maybe if Jimin
wasn't so exhausted; his omega whimpering over the obvious rejection, he would see that clearly.

“I am tired,” Jimin, agrees, gathering himself and forcing his expression to smooth out as he steps
away.

They shed their desire like a snake sheds its skin, and it’s as if it never happened.
“The clothes are in the wardrobe,” he points out unnecessarily, “And I delivered your
measurements last night, so it won’t take long for the collar to be ready.” Jimin mumbles, moving
further away. “I’ll just...go rest, then.”

Jeongguk doesn’t try to stop him, and Jimin feels like a fool. A desperate, infatuated fool.

________________

Something tickles his nose, causing it to scrunch up, lids squeezing tight as a featherlight caress
traces near the bridge between his brows. Bergamot and citrus fill Jimin's senses, and he shifts,
burrowing deeper into his nest of furs.

At least his brief nap was dreamless.

“I know you’re awake,” Taehyung whispers, a smile in his voice as he continues to stroke his
finger over the freckles that dot his skin

“I don’t want to be,” he rasps, voice rough, even to his own ears.

“You’ve slept the day away, my love. Are you feeling ill?”

Those same gentle fingers move up, a hand cupped over his forehead.

“You don’t feel warm. Do you need a healer?”

“Not ill, Tae. Just tired. Didn’t sleep much.”

“Again?”

“Nightmares,” he murmurs, purposefully keeping his eyes closed to the worry he knows graces the
other omega’s features.

“We can make that tea again at night, hmm? Give you something that’ll help you sink deeper into
sleep.”

Jimin finally blinks his lids open, meeting Taehyung’s affectionate expression, and he’s so grateful
he could weep.

“You’re too good to me.”

“No one is too good for you,” he assures, brushing the wayward strands of silver hair out of his
eyes. “Now come, Seokjin waits for you in your study.”

“Why?” he wonders, confusion gracing his features. “I don’t remember a meeting being
requested.”

“He says he’s done with the collar.”

“Already?” he exclaims in clear surprise, groaning as Taehyung helps him to rise, body aching,
head fuzzy.
“He works fast.”

Jimin hums, the other omega leading him to his wardrobe to assist him with changing, even though
Jimin can do it himself, he still allows Taehyung to lift his arms and remove his silk bed clothes in
order to slide a new, unwrinkled tunic over his head in a pretty shade of blue, belting it at the waist.
The trousers he settles on are grey with a matching jacket, finishing off the ensemble with coal
black boots.

“May I?” he asks next to his vanity, holding up Jimin’s brush in one hand and a tie in the other.

“Of course,” he answers with a smile, sitting for him so he’ll have better access to the long strands.

Taehyung brushes the knots out, then takes a section of hair just above each ear and pulls it back
behind his head, braiding the strands into each other and securing it.

“Beautiful,” he compliments as they stare in the reflection of Jimin’s standing mirror, the other
omega’s fingers running through the loose hair that cascades down his back.

Jimin's mind wanders with the gentle touches, and Namjoon's earlier words about a mate echo
deeply in his mind.

"Tae?"

"Hmm?"
"Would you do one more thing for me?"

"Anything."

"I need a list. A list of all the eligible unmated alphas that would be a good fit for me."

"Jimin—"

"Please. You know my preferences."

The omega sighs behind him, but in the reflection of the mirror, Jimin watches the way he
concedes with a nod. Reaching up, he grips the other omega's arm in gratitude before moving
towards the door, Taehyung at his side once they leave the room, speaking of it no further.

They make it to the study quickly, and both Seokjin and Namjoon are already inside, staring each
other down with unkind eyes.

Both alphas stand when he enters the room, quick to rush into bows and formalities. Jimin waves it
away, taking a seat behind his father’s desk.

“I’ve heard a rumor that the collar is finished.”

Seokjin pulls out a square wooden box from his satchel, and opens it for Jimin’s perusal, where
inside rests the ringlet of iron, a small, but thick padlock, and a key.

“Finished my lord, but effective? That has yet to be seen.”

Jimin’s eyes sweep over the collar, the metal plain but well made.

“That was fast,” he compliments, his gaze once more meeting the alpha’s.

“If you wanted it to look prettier, it would’ve taken longer.”

“I only care that it works,” he assures, making Seokjin smile.

“Shall we try it?”

Jimin suddenly feels a hardened resolve, and he leans over the desk, carefully taking the metal
from the box before Seokjin can warn him.

His hand tingles, and it feels as if the skin is starting to go numb.

“Careful, my lord. The wolfsbane takes some getting used to.”

His strength feels slightly depleted, but he doesn’t let it deter him.
“I’m glad it is not painful,” he remarks, Seokjin shaking his head.

“Merely uncomfortable.”

Jimin tries it on, the coldness of it heating up when it makes contact with his skin.

“Shall I try to change, then?”

Seokjin motions for him to go ahead, and Jimin backs up and away from the desk, giving himself
some room, just in case.

He attempts to shift, even though it has been far too long since he last did so, his wolf yipping in
excitement at the prospect as it paws along the corner of his mind it seems to inhabit, eager to be
set free. Jimin's gums itch when his teeth try to elongate, but they only grow so much before forced
to revert back, wolf whimpering when it realizes it’s still stuck in his human form.

“I—I can’t,” he admits, giving up.

Slowly, Jimin removes the collar, Seokjin seemingly pleased.

“It’ll be best if we test it on the rogue, my lord. Everyone’s tolerance is different, after all.”

Jimin’s stomach flutters at the thought of seeing Jeongguk again, and then plummets, remembering
their last encounter.

He’s mortified over his behavior, and can’t help but hate the way the alpha has that much power
over him without even trying. But he supposes he can’t avoid the man forever.

“I’ll take you to him,” he answers softly, resigned as he leads the way while the other three follow.

At least they won’t be alone. That’s a small consolation.

Jeongguk appears to be...training when they enter the spacious room, working his body in a way
that requires the use of nearly every muscle, sweat beading along his brow.

At least his shirt is on, Jimin thinks, sending up a grateful prayer to the gods.

He keeps his expression neutral and his tone distant when he addresses him, ignoring the way the
alpha lifts his tunic up to dot at the moisture that's accumulated on the glistening surface of his
skin, revealing a toned, golden abdomin.

“Jeongguk, you’ve met Namjoon and Taehyung. This is Kim Seokjin. He’s designed a collar for
you that will make it possible for you to go outside.”

Seokjin inclines his head and Jeongguk straightens, returning the wordless greeting with a nod of
his own. Jimin watches the exchange as he tries not to let the overpowering smell of rosemary and
cloves take over his sensibilities.

“I ask that you try this on,” Seokjin explains, revealing the collar to Jeongguk’s eyes. “We need to
make sure it works properly, otherwise you stay in this room.”

The threat gains Jeongguk’s cooperation, and he hastily lifts his long black hair off of his neck,
Seokjin approaching with the collar and Namjoon next to him, in case he needs the assistance,
while both Jimin and Taehyung hang back.
The collar is quickly secured over his neck, Seokjin far more careful than Jimin was when it comes
to avoiding making contact, and he immediately notes how much better it fits on Jeongguk than it
did on him, made to his specifications.

“Now, I want you to try shifting, but be warned. I’ll know if you’re putting on a ruse, so don't
attempt to fool me.”

Jeongguk nods again, and backs away, hands flexing at his sides.

Jimin watches as his nails begin to elongate, trying to form into claws, only for them to sink back in
again, Jeongguk’s cheeks flushed and more sweat gathering near his hairline. He lets out a
stuttered breath and relaxes, shaking his head.

“I can’t,” he admits, and Jimin sighs, unsure how to feel.

“I’d say it works,” Seokjin says, bestowing Jimin with a charming smile.

“You’re certain?” Namjoon asks, ever the cautious one, but of course Seokjin takes offense.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. You’re the one that’s going to be alone on a boat with him, wouldn’t you
like to make sure your little creation is fail-proof.”

Jeongguk’s eyes find Jimin's with a furrowed brow.

“What does he mean I’m going to be on a boat?” he questions, and Jimin is surprised to see he
looks none to thrilled by the idea.

“I thought you’d like out of this room. Being stuck on a boat in the middle of the lake seems like
the perfect environment to test the effectiveness of the collar to me.”

“Not to me, it doesn’t.”

“That’s fine, too. You can stay in here, then.”

Jeongguk gapes at him, and Jimin knows he’s not being particularly kind, or reasonable, and he
hates that he feels petty.

“It’s just for now,” he adds, trying to soften his tone. “If it goes well, we can try other things.”

“I’ll set out with him tomorrow,” Seokjin assures, and Jimin smiles at him.

“Namjoon and I shall see the two of you off when you go.”

The fisherman’s face falls at that, but he knows better than to argue. Namjoon as well, though he
does shift uncomfortably at the idea.

“Shall we?”
Seokjin nods, collecting the collar and placing it back in his wooden box before the four of them
head for the door, leaving Jeongguk behind in the quiet of his room.

Before Jimin can slip out with the rest of them, he hears the softness of his name being called, as if
floating to him on the wind.

He turns, taking in doe-like eyes that seem to glow in the dim lighting, and he feels caught. Like a
hare in a trap. He could ignore it, but the more he looks into those eyes the more he realizes the
impossibility of such a thing.

“Do you have further need of me?” he asks the others, receiving negative replies from each of them
and a promise from Seokjin as he holds up the wooden box.

"I’ll drop these off at your study and take my leave.”

One by one they exit the room, leaving Jimin alone with the rogue, though Namjoon gives him a
pointed look before he goes, a silent reminder that help is just outside.

“Did you want something?” he calls, remaining by the door, comfortable with the space between
them.

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to share the sentiment, as he slowly steps forward to bring them closer, and
Jimin considers escaping before he can get to him, his body ready to spring into movement.

Perhaps that is why the alpha keeps his pace slow, luring him into a sense of security, even as he
gets closer and closer.

“You’re angry with me,” he states, nearly within arms length, and Jimin feels heat burn in his
cheeks at the easy declaration.

“I’m not,” he denies, not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie, either.

He’s angry with himself, mostly.

“You are,” Jeongguk argues. “I want to understand why.”

“I do not wish to speak of it,” Jimin huffs petulantly, hating that he sounds like an unruly child, and
never has he felt more worthy of the nickname ‘pup,’ which Jeongguk so aptly gave him.

They’re toe to toe, now. Jimin’s eyes widening as he's forced to tip his head back slightly in order
to continue meeting that penetrative gaze, the lump in his throat making it difficult to swallow.
Difficult to breathe.

All he can smell is rosemary and cloves, his own scent that had clung to his skin now dulled with
the sweat he's worked up.

“Did I wound your pride?” the alpha murmurs, and Jimin wants to throttle him almost as much as
he wants to beg for his touch while he continues to speak in that calm, remorseful cadence, his
voice as smooth as a caress.

“Did you see it as rejection earlier today?” he presses, and Jimin’s lips remain sealed, an answer in
and of itself if Jeongguk’s widened eyes are anything to go by. “Yesterday you told me it would
complicate things, you and I, and yet today you are upset I listened to you.”

Heat licks up Jimin’s spine, watching the way the alpha’s gaze lowers to his lips.
They’re so close—

“Did you not want me to listen?”

The whispered words are more like a physical thing, and Jimin swears he feels it across his skin,
chasing away the cold.

I don’t know, he wants to say. I don’t know anything anymore.

He wishes to bask in this, the emotions this enigma of a man instills in him. It makes him feel as if
he's gone through life with a thin cover over his eyes, able to see light, and discern shapes, content
with such an existence because he didn't know any better.

Until Jeongguk came along, ripping the cloth away, his eyes able to see for the first time…

But he can't have this. Can't be selfish. Even as a dalliance it is impossible. When Jimin mates, he
is expected to be untouched and unclaimed in every sense of the word, that honor bestowed on the
alpha he chooses, and them alone.

He cannot love, not even in secret.

“It will complicate things,” he answers, and steps away, a clear message. “I apologize for my
behaviour. It is not fair of me to go back on my decisions, nor blame you for your own.”

He moves to turn towards the door, but a hand at his waist stops him, firm, but careful as Jimin is
turned back around to face the alpha.
“Me?” he asks, curiosity filling both his tone and his gaze, along with a frustration that Jimin is all
too familiar with. “What decisions do you think I've made?”

Releasing a deep sigh, the beginnings of a headache forming behind his temples, Jimin gathers
what he can of himself, no longer in the mood for riddles or vagueness. He just wants transparency.

“There’s no point in discussing this further. We both have our place in the world. I belong here,
and you’ve made it clear where you stand.”

“I feel as if I have not made myself clear at all. Or perhaps you are misunderstanding me.”

“Whose fault is that?” Jimin challenges, voice ringing out in the quiet and nearly making him
flinch. He forces himself to keep his expression as neutral as possible, stepping out of reach again,
and this time Jeongguk doesn’t pull him back. They stare at one another, and Jeongguk’s resolve
seems to harden before he speaks.

“If I upset you earlier then I apologize for it, but I don’t take advantage of others. You were tired.
You didn’t have to tell me, I could see for myself.”

His finger traces under his own eye, and Jimin knows what he refers to, saw the purple bruises
lining his lids in the mirror earlier.

“I can hear you, you know?" The rogue continues. "Through the walls at night. Been witness to
your dreams,” He reveals, and Jimin feels exposed as Jeongguk continues to study him. “What
nightmares visit you that cause you try cry out?”

Jimin is quiet for a moment before shaking his head, unable to hold the rogue’s perceptive gaze.
“I don’t remember,” he lies, and he knows Jeongguk knows he lies, the disappointment and
frustration clear in his face.

Jimin tells himself it doesn’t matter.

“The boats leave before dawn,” he hears himself inform, stilted, lacking emotion. “You should get
some rest. I’ll bring the collar in the morning, and escort you to Lake Geoul.”

He doesn’t get a response, and Jimin doesn’t wait for one, just turns and leaves, purposefully
measuring his steps so it doesn’t appear as if he’s running away again.

He goes back to the study in order to retrieve the wooden box Seokjin left for him, and when he
opens it, he stares at the small gleaming lock that will secure the piece together, as well as the
matching key. Jimin takes it back to his chambers, and rummages inside his vanity and the small
chest where he keeps his jewelry and trinkets.

He pulls free a long, simple chain made of silver, threading one end through the key to the lock
before securing it around his neck. Jimin eyes himself in the mirror and fixates on the way it hangs
over his heart.

He stays like that, frozen in place, feeling as if the key burns itself into his skin.

There's a metaphor in there somewhere, he's just too tired to puzzle it out.

________________
The night is long, filled with restless bouts of intermittent sleep, though Jimin’s body seems to jerk
awake whenever he starts to dream. Like a defense mechanism he can’t shut off.

He stays in bed this time rather than force himself to be productive, a pile of neatly folded clothes
stacked on his side table, finished, and leaving him with nothing to do anyways. He supposes he
could try to read, but his vision is in a constant state of bluriness, and he is sure such an attempt
will only result in making him feel worse.

So he stays wrapped up in the nest of blankets he’s made and watches the sky lighten instead.

His body is heavy when he finally drags himself from his resting place, a weariness to him that
feels as if it marks him like a scar, visible for everyone to see. Jimin dresses for warmth, pulling
the silvery-white fur cloak from his wardrobe and donning it over his leathers, the riding boots
coming on last. He leaves his hair free, the long thick strands suitable protection for his vulnerable
ears.

It’s snowing.

He glances out the window no more than a minute, watching the flakes fall and taking his time to
center himself before he turns his back on the view, grabs the wooden box which he balances on
top of the pile of adjust garments, and leaves his room behind him.

As per usual, the guards open the door to Jeongguk’s room for him, and Jimin moves with
practiced steps inside, attempting to appear as unaffected as he can, until Jeongguk turns from his
own position at the windows, already dressed and ready.

He’s in all black, the trousers and the tunic part of the clothes Jimin himself had taken in, and over
those he wears the black fur cloak he gifted him, making his shoulders appear even more broad.
The top of his hair is pulled up, keeping the strands away from his face while the rest curl loosely
down the back.
He looks breathtaking.

They stare at each other, neither one of them speaking, and Jimin tries not to feel awkward when
he sets the pile down on the writing desk, using one of the tunics to carefully pull the collar and
lock free from its box, sets the wood aside and approaches the alpha. They stand before each other,
and Jeongguk wordlessly lifts the inky black strands of his hair without prompting, his eyes far too
intense for Jimin to hold.

Removing the lock, he opens the collar up, careful not to linger over bare skin this time as he fits it
into place. He circles behind the rogue, sliding the lock in the circular hollows of the metal and
clicks it shut, connecting the pieces together.

Jeongguk lets his hair fall and Jimin comes back around, eyeing the way the metal fits snugly
against his throat.

There’s a knock at the door, and at Jimin’s invitation, it opens, Namjoon standing in the entrance.

“Ready?”

He nods to his guard and turns back to Jeongguk, the rogue appearing as if he wants to say
something, but decides against it.

“Are you ready?” he asks instead, eager to fill the silence.

Jeongguk glances at him, an almost bittersweet look in his wide doe-eyes when he nods.
“Follow me,” he whispers, hating that it feels like it has a double meaning.

Yoongi is just beyond the door, and trepidation fills him as he turns and watches Jeongguk exit the
room he’s been forced to inhabit since he was brought to their village.

Anxiety fills him, and he holds his breath, waiting to see what the rogue will do. If he’ll take this as
his chance to run or bide his time.

But Jeongguk merely crosses the threshold of the door and stands there, looking back at them
expectantly. Jimin exhales and turns, leading the way, Jeongguk just behind him and both
Namjoon and Yoongi bringing up the rear, the journey through the Great Lodge carried out quietly.

The chill is biting outside, snow sticking to his lashes when it falls, and Jimin immediately draws
the fur of his cloak tighter around himself, nuzzling his numb nose into its warmth. The walk to the
lake is quiet, the people in the village just getting started with their day or sleeping in a little longer
if afforded the luxury.

It’s snowing harder by the time they make it to the docks, Seokjin waiting for them near the
boathouse.

“Give me a minute to get her ready and then we’ll set off,” the fisherman assures motioning
towards his boat, Namjoon following after him with Yoongi in tow, leaving Jimin and Jeongguk
together.

He doesn’t know what to say, but he knows he wants to say something, has to.

“I’ll see you again, right?” he asks, proud of himself that his voice remains steady. “You wouldn’t
go without saying goodbye?”
When he looks up at the alpha his expression is soft, eyes kind. Almost wistful.

“You said so yourself there’s nowhere I can go out in the middle of a freezing lake. And this only
makes things harder,” he assures, fingers skimming over the collar.

“I’ve seen you take on seven wolves, I'm not going to start underestimating you now.”

Jeongguk chuckles, the air growing quiet between them again before the alpha tentatively asks,
"You really want me to say goodbye when I leave?”

“I do,” he answers without hesitation, refusing to let on that he has a rock in the pit of his stomach,
weighing him down even more than he already feels.

“Then I swear, if it is possible, I’ll bid you farewell.”

Jimin shifts his eyes on him, the alpha already facing his direction, and the two share a small
smile.

“Yah, rogue,” Seokjin calls, and they both turn to give him a look. “We’re setting off, come on.”

They move down the dock together, Namjoon and Yoongi flanking their sides once more, and
Jimin watches as Jeongguk climbs onto the deck of Seokjin’s midsize boat, steady on his feet,
though his expression is unsure.

“We’ll be back at dusk,” Jin assures, and Jimin’s heart clenches oddly.
“We’ll meet you here,” he answers back, though his eyes fix on Jeongguk when he says as much,
meeting his stare openly.

Jimin watches them sail away, the distance between them growing as the boat gets smaller and
smaller. His breath catches in his throat when an image flashes behind his eyes. One of a crimson
lake, and a black wolf consumed by its depths.

He has the sudden irrational urge to call them back again, to get Jeongguk off of the water, but he
holds his tongue, knowing it to be a ridiculous fear brought on from nightmares and exhaustion.

“You think he’ll kill him,” Yoongi wonders, and Jimin feels his own lips curl up into a humored
smirk when he hears Namjoon snort.

“I’m not that lucky.”

Jimin turns with a click of his tongue, shaking his head at the two of them though his amusement is
visible, and makes his way back down the docks with the soldiers in tow.

________________

Jimin’s morning consists of meetings with various members of the pack. The woodcutters want to
return to work, a replacement is needed for the tailor. And then of course, there are the suitors.

They come with petty problems they use as a shield to hide behind, though some are brazen
enough to be honest with their intentions. Jimin thanks them for their interest and sends them on
their way.
As soon as he’s able, he steals into the library, the Great Lodge’s collection vast and impressive. In
retrospect, he should’ve done this sooner, and it’s only because he discovered Jeongguk with the
book of children’s fables that the idea came to him.

Being cooped up in a room without any form of entertainment is its own form of torture.

He grabs several titles that catch his eye, one of which—The Art of Escape—makes him giggle. He
wonders if it would be taken the wrong way if he adds something from the romance genre to the
pile, and decides to make it stand out less by pulling from every other genre as well, just in case.

He’s just about to return to his study when another book catches his interest. It’s clearly old, the
leather worn with the title barely legible. He sets the books he already has down on a nearby table,
turning back to the shelf and carefully pulling the binding free from its neighbors.

His fingers wipe over the cover, eyes tracing the looping words.

The Imprinting Wolf — Mating Rituals

Imprinting?

Jimin’s brow furrows, and he fights off the urge to open the book now, in clear view. He adds it to
the others and quickly leaves, gratefully shutting himself back in his study.

Namjoon finds him there not long after, bent over the desk as he squints down at the words of the
mysterious book, refusing to stop, not even to light the candles as the sun sinks behind the trees.

“Have you heard of this,” he asks before the alpha can get a word in.
“Heard of what?”

Jimin holds up the book, showing the cover for Namjoon’s perusal, the guard squinting to read the
faded words before sinking heavily into the opposite seat.

“Imprinting? My grandparents claimed it used to be common knowledge, until it became a

hindrance for survival, and then it was presented as foolish.”

“Why would it be a hindrance?” Jimin wonders rubbing at his strained eyes, his exhaustion making
his thoughts feel muddled and slow, affecting how little he was able to look into the matter.

“If everyone concerned themselves with finding “the one,” mating would decline since the
majority would be holding off, and as such, our numbers would decrease. Our history is fraught
with battle, territorial spats, war. When pack size became integral to survival, the idea of a
soulmate; for lack of a better word, was easily dismissed.”

Jimin shivers at that, his eyes returning to the book.

"I've always heard it described as a kind of pull. More of an attraction and compatibility between
wolves."

"Which makes it a lot easier to deem it unnecessary for a successful mating. If it's merely a pull,
you can rationalize it away as to why you don't feel it for your chosen partner. But if it is a bond, a
connection between every part of them and every part of you, well. That would be more sought
after than something presented as simple desirability."

Jimin hums in understanding, expression morose while he considers the ramifications of such,
Namjoon interrupting his thoughts.
“Is that what you think happened? Between you and your rogue?”

Jimin's eyes widen, but he tries to hide his response behind irritation.

“I wish everyone would stop referring to him as such. He is not mine.”

Namjoon opens his mouth, likely to refute that claim, only for a knock on the door to interrupt
him.

“Come in,” Jimin calls, giving Yoongi a small smile when he enters.

“I’m sorry to intrude, I only came to retrieve you since the boats will be arriving soon, but on my
way here one of the staff asked me to inform you that there’s someone downstairs wanting to speak
with you.”

Jimin sighs, a sharp pain beginning to dig into his skull, not looking forward to any more audiences
with potential suitors or anxiety-riddled packmates.

“Do you know who it is?”

Yoongi appears to almost flinch.

“Kim Doyun.”
Jimin’s eyes slip closed, headache intensifying. This is exactly what he doesn’t need.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Namjoon says softly, and Jimin breathes another sigh through
clenched teeth.

“I know, but a little longer is always preferable.”

“Yoongi, can you manage on your own,” Namjoon questions, and Jimin opens his eyes in time to
see the smaller alpha nodding without hesitation, the two of them aware that Namjoon won’t leave
Jimin’s side, especially in the presence of one that makes him so uncomfortable.

“Bring them both back here, please,” Jimin requests. “I wish to hear a report on the day they’ve
had.”

Yoongi nods again.

“And Doyun?”

With deep breath and a slow exhale, Jimin relents.

“Tell them to send him up.”

Yoongi leaves quickly, and Jimin can feel Namjoon’s worried eyes on him.

“He won’t try anything as long as I'm around.”

“I am not worried about that,” Jimin reveals. “It’s more in his mannerisms and entitlement. The
things he says that he doesn’t find fault in or simply alludes to. His very person is draining to me,
yet his opinion of himself is so high, it’s almost as if he cannot read my disdain.”

“He always was a right prick.”

Jimin snorts, unable to contain his laugh.

When the knock comes, their eyes meet again, a silent conversation exchanged before Namjoon
gains his feet and answers the door. Smoked cardamom hits him with an intensity that has Jimin’s
nose twitching unpleasantly, and he can honestly say it's one of his least favorite scents.

Kim Doyun has always been a brute-looking thing. Tall, even as a pup, with a mean streak that
made more than a few of his fellow pack members steer clear. Jimin can’t claim that the man finds
omegas inferior, because when it comes to the alpha, he finds everyone but himself inferior.

He carries a horizontal scar across his chin that Jimin never cared to learn the cause of, hair long
and the color of rust. But his eyes are what unnerve Jimin the most. Windows to soul, poets call
them.

Jimin sees nothing when he looks upon Doyun’s. They’re empty.

“I’d like to speak with you. In private,” he adds, eyeing Namjoon with visible contempt.

Jimin’s first instinct is to deny him, but he allows others of the pack confidence if they request it.
He can’t very well show preference. Igniting fury in the wrong wolf could prove to be dangerous.
A good leader knows how to placate. To make others feel heard, even if they do not agree.
His eyes fly to Namjoon, and he gives a small nod, the alpha’s jaw tightening, clearly upset at
having to leave them alone.

“I’ll be right outside,” he says before he goes, serving as a warning more than a farewell.

Jimin sits behind the desk, hands resting on top, fingers interlaced. He keeps himself as at ease as
possible when he asks.

“What is it you wished to speak to me about?”

Doyun doesn’t sit down, and the part of Jimin that wants to find fault in everything the alpha does
is sure he remains standing so he can tower over his form. Make him feel vulnerable.

He refuses to let on that it affects him.

Doyun doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze sweeps over Jimin’s desk, taking in the pile of
books he’s acquired for Jeongguk, though they only narrow when they settle on the old one near
his arm that focuses on imprinting.

“I didn’t think you would be into such silly concepts.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches.

“Forgive me, but I don’t understand what’s silly about it.”

“The idea that there is someone out there meant to complete us? A ridiculous notion propagated by
a foolish romantic.”

“And yet our kind mates for life,” Jimin retorts. “Some might consider that foolishly romantic as
well.”

“There is a difference in biology and flights of fancy born from the naive.”

Despite the fire that licks up the back of his throat, eager to spill out, Jimin’s expression doesn’t so
much as falter.

“I’m sure you did not come here to discuss my reading inclinations, and I’m afraid I’m rather
busy.”

“Then I’ll get to the point. You may not hear it, but the pack is in a state of panic. Your father has
not been seen nor heard from within a fortnight. No one knows for sure if he is regaining strength,
worsening, or on death’s door. There are whispers that he’s already dead. These rumors will only
continue and gain traction if you do not do something. Soon the pack will be divided, and anxiety
makes idiots of most who only know how to expel that energy by reacting before thinking. You
need to put a stop to it. You must take a mate.”

Jimin blinks up at him, white noise ringing in his ears.

“Who are these dissentious wolves?”

Doyun raises a brow at him.

“You want a list?”

“I would,” Jimin nods.

“To what end?”

“To the end that I may lay their fears to rest. Perhaps give them a tour through my father’s
chambers, so they may see for themselves that he yet lives. I could even have Haneul give hourly
reports in the Great Hall.”

Jimin shouldn’t, but he feels a curling satisfaction at the way Doyun’s lips turn down in a sneer.

“I have never seen an omega so unwilling to do their duty. The pack is in chaos and all it would
take to fix it is for you to choose the next head alpha, and yet you sit here instead, reading
unrealistic fantasy,” he spits.

“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” Jimin calmly replies. “I’ve already set into motion gathering
information on those I would find suitable for the position. One who is compatible with both
myself, my omega and the disposition to rule. So, if that is all, I hope it will assuage your
concerns.”

Doyun does not like to be dismissed so casually. It’s obvious in the way his shoulders tense, and
the muscles in both his jaw and temple jump. His fingers curl into his palm, a white-knuckled grip
that bores the slightest tremor. It must kill him that he cannot simply demand what he so clearly
wants. That he has to go through someone like Jimin to get it, and Jimin can only hope that he soon
gets the message that he will not; in this life or the next, ever willingly mate one such as him.

“And what do you consider the proper disposition to rule?" Doyun wonders, more of a demand
than an inquiry.
"One who puts the interests of those they are meant to serve above their own. One who is rational,
mild-tempered, fair and just."

Everything you aren't, he says without speaking the words.

Doyun seems to seethe, moving as if to round the desk and get to Jimin.

“You—"

Just then the door to the study bursts open, cardamom being overtaken by rosemary and cloves.

Jimin’s shoulders sag and he sighs, feeling as if he can breathe easy again, the sight of Jeongguk
practically vibrating in the doorway one that evokes pure relief, even if the alpha's nearly red gaze
is focused challengingly on Doyun.

“Sorry, my lord,” he hears Seokjin say, faux contrite. “He’s eager, this one.”

“Not at all,” Jimin assures, waving them inside. "I’m finished here.”

Fire ignites in Doyun’s eyes, but with the added company Jimin has no problem meeting it with a
smile, knowing he's only adding fuel to that flame, and hopes he doesn't come to regret it.

Doyun storms out of the room, purposely bumping into Jeongguk’s shoulder as he goes, the rogue
releasing a menacing growl in response.
“A regular ray of sunshine, isn’t he?” Seokjin huffs, eyes on the door Doyun just stormed out of
while his hand moves to Jeongguk's shoulder to give it a sobering squeeze.

Jimin sags deeper into his chair as Namjoon, Seokjin, Jeongguk and Yoongi all file in. The
fisherman and the rogue take the chairs opposite of him while Namjoon and Yoongi flank the
door; though Jeongguk appears tightly wound, and Jimin wonders if he's merely imagining the way
he seems to want nothing more than to round the desk to get to him.

“Well, how was it?”

“He’s a terrible fisherman,” Seokjin mutters, pointing his thumb accusingly at the other alpha, only
for Jeongguk to scoff.

“I’m a wolf. A hunter, not a fisherman.”

“Some wolves are more well-rounded than others, I suppose.” The elder grins, mirth in his eyes.
“Gets a bit too green in the gills to go back, I think.”

“Don’t you have hunting parties?" Jeongguk wonders. "Let me join one of those and I’ll bring you
back food.”

“S’not a bad idea," Seokjin mediates, "I can join him if you still want someone to keep an eye on
him?”

“What about your boat,” Namjoon interjects. "Shouldn’t you be catching fish?”

“Plenty of fishermen out on the lake with hardly any fish to be had. I see no harm in it.”
“The hunters don’t venture out anymore. Not since the weather changed. The plains are too far and
thought to be deserted, and the forest is off-limits,” Jimin answers, motioning towards Jeongguk as
to the reason why.

“We could hunt along the treeline,” he suggests, an eagerness to his eyes that makes Namjoon
distrustful.

“And what if his people lie in wait to take him back?”

“Let ‘em have him,” Jin mutters, receiving a sharp glare from Jeongguk himself, and Jimin
wonders what they must’ve experienced on that boat to make them so bratty towards each other.

“Yoongi is a good tracker,” Jimin says motioning towards him. “Would you mind accompanying
them?”

“Not at all, my lord. We can go tomorrow at dawn.”

"If it goes well, perhaps we'll devise a hunting party and search the plains next, see if anything yet
remains."

Seokjin claps his hands, a clear excitement to his disposition.

"You could always go with them," Jimin suggests in Namjoon's direction, attempting not to laugh
when he sees Seokjin's face visibly sour, only to be filled with relief when the other alpha
immediately declines the offer.

"My place is with you."

Jimin's smile widens at him before turning back to Jeongguk.

"You cannot change to hunt," he says, eyes sliding towards the collar that glints in the light. "Are
you any good with a bow?"

"I am," he assures, gaze intense.

"Very well. We'll outfit you with a bow and tomorrow you three can scout the treeline."

He knows it's a risk, gifting Jeongguk with a weapon and placing him so close to home. Jimin's
own words echoing back at him.

If you are to escape, make sure your first attempt is your last.

Maybe he's doing it on purpose, tired of dreading when the day will come, not wanting to be
caught off guard when it does, so he forces its hand.

Maybe.

Another knock echoes in the room, and Yoongi answers it, letting go of a sharp, audible breath
when he sees Taehyung behind the door. The omega ignores him and handles the five sets of eyes
admirably well, coming further into the room with his head held high, circling around to Jimin's
desk. He hands him a rolled up parchment tied with a simple red bow.

At Jimin's inquiring brow, Taehyung's eyes quickly slide over to Jeongguk before returning.
"The list of alphas, my lord."

"Already?"

This time Taehyung's gaze darts over to the rest of the room—full of alphas—and his lips twitch
upwards when he answers.

"Of those available there are but a few who would be suitable."

Jimin can't help but give an amused smile of his own, pocketing the parchment on the inside of his
cloak.

Taehyung stays by his side, and Jimin turns back to Seokjin, doing his best to ignore Jeongguk’s
inquisitive stare. He looks almost uncomfortable, restless in his seat again.

“How long would you say we have left on the lake?”

Seokjin shrugs.

“A week, if the weather holds. Maybe less.”

Jimin nods, the sudden onset of exhaustion giving way to the almost overwhelming desire to
collapse down onto the desk in despair, the mountain of hardships they face getting the better of
him. He manages to withstand, but only just.
“Thank you for all of your help, Seokjin. I know you’re very busy, so I won’t keep you any
longer.”

The alpha inclines his head gratefully, smacking Jeongguk on the shoulder as he stands.

“See you tomorrow, wobbles.”

Jimin bites his lip to keep from laughing, watching as Jeongguk snaps his teeth after the retreating
alpha, which has the added affect of having Namjoon appearing far more pleased with him than he
ever has since they brought him to their home.

He looks up and over his shoulder, gracing Taehyung with a soft smile.

“You may retire as well, if you’d like.”

“My lord,” he bows, a pleased glint in his eye as he takes his leave as well.

Jimin rises from his chair fluidly, ignoring the urge to pop the bones in his neck and back as he
does so, surprised when Jeongguk stands as well.

“If you two would be so kind as to accompany me as I escort Jeongguk back to his room?”

They nod, waiting for Jimin to gather his pile of books and exit the study first to lead the way,
followed closely by Jeongguk with Namjoon and Yoongi once again bringing up the rear.
“Would you like me to help you?” Jeongguk asks, and Jimin turns to see him motion towards the
stack he holds.

Smiling in gratitude, he hands over half as they continue to move with a quiet; but appreciative,
“Thank you.”

The guards open the door for them when they approach Jeongguk's room, and Jimin motions for
Namjoon and Yoongi to hold back while the two of them enter alone, wanting to put the rogue at
ease after being around a stranger all day.

He sets the books on the writing desk next to the pile of clothes he left this morning, and turns,
stilling when he sees Jeongguk staring at one of the leather bound covers, cheeks heating with
realization.

“Oh, that one—that one is mine, actually,” he mumbles awkwardly, pulling the book on mating
rituals and imprinting free from the pile and clutching it to his chest.

The alpha stares at the mostly hidden cover, as if transfixed before reluctantly looking away.

At least he doesn’t say anything like Doyun had.

“So, all these are for me?” he asks, setting down his own stack of books.

“Thought they might be a little bit more engaging than children’s fables.”

“You’ve clearly never read the wolf and the hare. Riveting stuff.”
Jimin snorts, covering his mouth with his hand as he shakes his head, and Jeongguk’s features
soften in a way that gives him pause, his thoughts already trying to analyze their meaning. He’s
quick to change the subject though, weak in the face of those open emotions swirling around in
wide doe-eyes.

“Why did Seokjin call you wobbles?”

That soft expression from before morphs into one of exasperation, arms crossing from beneath his
black cloak as he shakes his head.

“The fisherman claims I have no “sea-legs,” no matter how many times I informed him that his
lake did not equate to a sea.”

“So you are unsteady on the water,” Jimin clarifies, and it’s hard, but he manages to keep his lips
from twitching upward, even as the alpha gets surly.

“I’m a wolf,” he says again, as if it’s all the defense he needs, and Jimin’s shoulders shake from the
giggles he’s no longer able to contain.

“Why are you laughing?” Jeongguk demands, though not unkindly, and it only makes Jimin laugh
more, the sound surprising, even to himself.

It has been a long while since he has felt joy so acutely.

“I d-don’t mean to,” he stutters to reassure as he shakes his head. “You just seem to be a little
sensitive on the matter.”

“I’m not sensitive about sea-legs and whether I have them or not,” Jeongguk huffs, shoulders
sagging when Jimin laughs again.

The rogue watches him while his amusement slowly dies out, his expression suddenly serious, as if
recalling something unsettling.

“That alpha in your study. I remember him from the forest.”

The remainder of Jimin’s mirth disappears with just the mention of him, and he can feel his
features harden in response.

“Kim Doyun," he offers before shaking his head. "The alpha leaves an impression,” Jimin mutters,
gaze falling to the book he still covets, as if suddenly finding it the most interesting thing.

“He certainly has on you,” Jeongguk murmurs. “I could smell your discomfort in the hall.”

“And what does my discomfort smell like?”

It's a silly question, but one he grabs ahold of in the hope that the subject of Doyun will fall to the
wayside.

The rogue moves closer, steps slow and measured, and Jimin has been here before, but he does not
want to change the outcome any more than he did the previous times, gaze looking up at Jeongguk
from lowered lids.

“Smells like...flowers fallen from the vine, left to wilt and die on the forest floor.”
“You can tell my moods from scent alone,” Jimin challenges, and Jeongguk smirks, a clear
acceptance.

“I can,” he claims. “For instance, now,” he trails off, taking two more steps. “Right now, you smell
like a sudden rain during a sunny day. Soft, warm, clean earth and flowers in bloom."

Jimin's stomach flutters, heart quickening in his chest.

"Do you read poetry, Jeongguk?"

The alpha's teeth sink into his bottom lip as he takes another step forward.

"Sometimes."

"Then I'll be sure to bring you a book of poems once you read through these."

Jeongguk's lips widen in a smile, the mole beneath the fuller bottom one catching Jimin's attention,
and suddenly they're toe to toe again.

"What does he do to make you uncomfortable?"

Jimin looks back up into his eyes as he is reminded of the original topic, his fingers reaching out,
burying themselves in the soft black fur of Jeongguk's cloak while he shakes his head.

"His scent. The way he speaks to me. His values," Jimin sighs. "The list is long."
"What did he want?"

"He wants to be lord," Jimin shrugs, tracking the path his fingers take as he goes from the softness
of the cloak to the hard heat of Jeongguk's chest, golden skin peeking out from the undone buttons
of his tunic. "And in order to be lord, he needs me."

Jimin doesn't realize the gravity of what he's doing until he looks back up and sees the itensity in
the alpha's gaze, unwavering and clearly affected by the touch.

He removes his hand as if burned, trying as subtly as he can to put a small bit of space between
them.

"And the list of alphas that was brought to you?" Jeongguk asks, referencing the rolled up scroll
that Taehyung put together for him.

He decides to be truthful, a part of him eager to see the other's reaction.

"Suitable prospects for mates."

The alpha doesn't disappoint, and a thrill runs through Jimin when he sees the way Jeongguk’s jaw
clenches, that same restlessness from earlier overtaking him, the scent of cloves turning bitter from
his upset, though the emotion gets cleverly hidden by a familiar stoic mask.

Jimin changes the subject when guilt overtakes him, eager to cut the sudden tension.
“So, you are to hunt tomorrow? Are you going to bring back anything good?”

Or are you going to take your chance?

A look of determination crosses Jeongguk’s features this time, and he appears self-assured when he
answers.

“I’ll bring you back food,” the alpha swears, and Jimin tries not to fixate on the ‘you,’ aspect. “Or
have you forgotten the stag I felled?”

“I haven’t, but I also recall you were in the form of a giant black wolf when you took it down.
Won’t have that advantage tomorrow,” he grins, fingers reaching up to trace the metal of the
collar.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Why he’s suddenly comfortable with initiating all these
intimate touches after everything that’s happened, and all that he’s come to terms with. After his
own self-imposed restrictions that he's tried hard to follow. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to believe his
behaviour either, though once the initial shock fades after each tentative touch, he's clearly
receptive. Inviting, even. Pleased.

“A giant, huh?”

“A wolf of impressive size,” Jimin corrects, more eloquent this time. “Speaking of, shall I remove
this for you?” he asks, fingers back to slide over the metal, skin tingling from the wolfsbane even
with the briefest contact.

Jeongguk lifts his hair out of the way in answer, and Jimin sets the imprinting book down on the
side table and circles behind him, pulling the key from under his tunic and fitting it into the lock. It
releases with a snick, and he hears the alpha breathe a sigh of relief before he lets his hair fall down
his back in waves.
Jimin removes the collar, holding it carefully so it doesn’t make contact with his own skin again
and weaken his constitution, and comes back around to Jeongguk's front.

“How do you feel? You had to wear it for a long time.”

“I’ll be okay,” he softly assures, eyes shifting over to the writing desk.

“Thank you for the books, and the clothes.”

Jimin blinks up at him, cheeks flushing over his easy gratitude.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

Jeongguk’s eyes dart to his lips, and Jimin’s breath shudders on an exhale, turning away quickly
before things can escalate further, as they have a tendency to do so.

“I’ll come to collect you tomorrow at dawn.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, but his stare follows Jimin out like an answer in itself.

________________

After Dismissing both Namjoon and Yoongi, Jimin goes back to his room, putting the collar in its
 wooden box, eager to glimpse the list Taehyung put together.

It takes at least two attempts until he’s able to roll out the parchment, which prefers to snap back
into its original position unless he gets a good enough grip on it.

When he finally pulls it taut, his heart skitters in his chest, like a frightened animal in the presence
of a predator.

There at the top, written in Taehyung’s familiar neat scrawl, is the name Jeongguk.

Chapter End Notes

Tell my what you think, or come say hi on twitter

 The Wolf and the Treeline
Chapter Notes

I'm not sure about this one, but here you go.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jimin is practically fuming, the loud click from the heels of his boots echoing rhythmically after
each rushed step he takes, following him down the hall through the staff’s quarters of the omega
wing. He passes several servants, and they avoid his gaze, seemingly wary of his uncharacteristic
mood, and Jimin knows he’ll feel bad about it later once he calms.

Not now, though. Now he is angry, but he still remembers to knock when he reaches his
destination, the door opening quickly as if Taehyung expected him, and it’s more than likely that
he did. He appears far too smug.

“What’s this?” he hisses, holding out the rolled-up parchment in explanation as he storms his way
inside.

Gently, the other omega closes the door to his chambers and turns to face him.

“Looks to be the list of alphas I made for you.”

“Exactly. A list of suitable alphas was my requirement.”

“Are you angry I put Namjoon on there?”

Jimin freezes, his vexation melting away while his expression morphs into a confused frown, his
gaze sliding down to the scroll in dismay.
“Namjoon is on here?”

“Among others. Didn’t you notice?”

“No, I didn’t. I was too distracted by the first name.”

“I see,” Taehyung answers, a clear sparkle in his eyes.

“Why would you put him on the list?”

“You know why.”

“I can’t mate an outsider, Taehyung! We don’t even consider it as a means of alliance anymore.
The pack would see it as an insult.”

“As long as they are protected and provided for, they shouldn’t have a say in your happiness.”

Jimin sighs, collapsing into the usual chair he claims during his visits, feeling as if he’s a thread
being pulled from the spool, beginning to unravel until he has no form anymore, left a tangled,
useless mess.

“I can’t even do that right,” he mutters, hating that he feels pity for himself. It accomplishes
nothing. “Between the illness, the lack of food, and the dissension that is happening amongst our
own…I fear something will give soon.”
“Who says there is dissension?” Taehyung demands, coming around the table to take his own
chair.

“Doyun.”

The other omega scoffs, appearing furious.

“If there is any, he is the one that ignited it.”

“I cannot prove that. Not unless someone comes forward with sufficient evidence to brand him a
traitor. And he’s not a fool. If he is the cause, he’ll be smart about it.”

Taehyung’s eyes harden, a seriousness to his features that speaks to the severity of the situation.

“You need to combat whatever it is Doyun claims is happening.”

“How?”

“You must endear the pack to you,” Taehyung instructs. “Start having meals in the Great Hall
again. Show them your presence, your attention and care. Win them over.”

Jimin’s teeth sink into his bottom lip as he considers it, nodding along to the idea.

“But don’t you see? This is exactly why I can’t mate someone like Jeongguk. Everything is so
tenuous already, if I announced that that was my intention I would likely face a mutiny rather than
congratulations."

“Bring Jeongguk with you. When you eat in the Great Hall let him sit by your side. When you
speak to them, or go into town, have Jeongguk at your arm. Introduce him to others, let them ask
him questions, get him talking. Let the pack get used to seeing you two together until it’s common.
They will not find fault in it when the time comes.”

“That would take planning. Preparation. I do not know if I even have much time,” Jimin admits,
shaking his head. “And even if all of that worked in the end, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s not
what Jeongguk desires. He wants to go home.”

“But have you even posed the option to him? Have you asked?”

“Of course not. He already told me he wishes to leave.”

“People change, you know. Things change.”

Jimin huffs.

"I am not even sure if he feels the same draw that I do. Jeongguk always seems so much more in
control of himself than I. Whatever is between us, what if he feels it less intensely? How could I
ask him to give up where he came from for something I don't even understand myself?"

"The only way you can understand it is if you speak of it to each other. Discover what it is that
draws you, otherwise you may never know."
“How is it that both you and Namjoon are encouraging this?” he wonders in disbelief. “You two
are supposed to be my voice of reason. The rational ones. Now I feel as if you’ve both lost it.”

“We are rational. Maybe it’s because neither one of us wants to see you miserable for the rest of
your life, and we know the decision we’re encouraging you to make will result in your happiness.
Yet somehow you’ve managed to convince yourself you don’t deserve that, which couldn’t be
further from the truth.”

“Don’t say things like that,” he tries to reprimand with a teasing smile, though his emotions are
once again fluctuating. “You’re weakening my resolve.”

“Real friends tell each other what they need to hear, not what they want to hear.”

Jimin shakes his head again, though no words are forthcoming to argue his point. They're quiet for
a moment, and despite Taehyung's assurances, Jimin can't help but whisper his confession.

"I want him...I'm just so afraid everything will continue to keep falling apart around us. Of my
decisions being the catalyst that will bring about our end."

Taehyung’s hand suddenly takes his own, Jimin’s gaze rising from the scarred surface of the
tabletop to grant him a curious look.

“None of this is your fault. You know that, right? The illness, the food shortages, any of it.
Everything that has transpired was caused by circumstances beyond you. Beyond any of us,” he
declares, and Jimin forces back the rising emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

He nods to show that he’s heard the omega’s words, and Taehyung so easily senses his mood,
remaining silent in order to give him time to collect himself. Once Jimin has regained a sense of
calm, Tae poses a soft question, deliberately changing the subject
“Any word on your father?”

“Haneul reports no change from his initial recovery. He’s rarely lucid, but his fever is down and
he’s still able to take in fluids.”

“That’s good. He’s stable.”

Jimin nods again, swiping his fingers through his hair, gaze falling as his mind wanders, an acute;
albeit familiar exhaustion making him bone-weary. He attempts to unfurl the parchment bearing
the list of alphas, desperately looking for a distraction and grumbling when it takes him a few tries
to smooth it out.

“You weren’t jesting, you really did put Namjoon on here.”

“Your choices are few,” Taehyung admits with a frown. “This is going to be someone you’re tied
to for the rest of your days. ‘Slim pickings,’ I believe the saying goes, and you love Namjoon.”

“Not like that.”

“Could you ever come to love any of them like that?”

He looks over the list with a sigh and a small shake of his head.

“I suppose not,” Jimin softly admits, his eyes flying back up to Jeongguk’s name as he feels his
heart squeeze.

Except maybe one.

“A mating of convenience,” he mutters to himself.

“Isn’t that what it was always going to be?”

The question makes him shrug, not sure why he feels so sad all of a sudden.

“After everything, my father made me a promise that it would be my choice. I just thought that
meant I would love whoever it was I chose. I guess that makes me naive,” he admits, frowning
when he remembers Doyun’s words from before. “A foolish romantic.”

“It isn’t foolish, Jimin,” the other omega swears, eyes imploring, as if he needs Jimin to believe
him. “It isn’t.”

Jimin clasps his hands, but Tae is the one to pull him closer, bringing the delicate skin of his wrists
to his face, nosing along the veins and scenting him there, immediately calming his frazzled
nerves.

“Come, let me take you back to your room. I’ll even make that tea for you that’ll help you sleep.”

Jimin whines in protest, but doesn’t argue when the other omega pulls him from his chair and the
room, exiting the staff wing and taking him upstairs back to his own guarded corridor.
“Have a bath brought in for our lord and guest, please,” he hears Taehyung request of one of the
soldiers, receiving affirmations in reply.

“I’m so tired I’ll fall asleep if I bathe now.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Tae promises, and Jimin feels overwhelming gratitude and affection for
him.

“You’ll stay with me?”

“You couldn’t be rid of me if you tried, of course I’m staying.”

A giggle leaves him, and Jimin allows himself to be ushered into his chambers, and then to his bed
where he sits, Taehyung kneeling before his slumped form to pull his boots free.

“Rest. I’ll get the fire going, fetch the tea and by then your bath should be ready.”

“Life without you would be a hollow existence,” he announces, collapsing heavily against the
feather-down of his mattress.

“I love you too, Jimin,” Taehyung replies, making him giggle again.

He’s sure he falls asleep, because in the next instant, Taehyung is gently nudging him awake, a
carved mug in his hand.

“Your bath is ready,” he says softly, placing the drink on the nearby stand, and when Jimin turns
his head, he can see that the tub has already been placed in the center of the room, filled to the brim
with water, steam dancing along the surface.

“I didn’t even hear them come in,” he rasps, rubbing at his eyes.

“Exhaustion will do that to you.”

Jimin inclines his head towards the tea in question, only for Taehyung to shake his own in denial.

“After your bath. You’re tired enough as it is and it’s much too hot.”

Jimin hums, gaining his feet with the omega’s help, cooperative as Taehyung disrobes him until he
is bare and shivering, even though the room is already warm from the fire.

He’s helped into the tub, Tae holding his hand as he lowers himself into the hot water, grip firm so
he doesn’t slip. Once Jimin is reclined against the lip of the smoothed wood, Tae peruses his soaps,
grabbing the ones he thinks smell best and returning. He helps Jimin get clean, lathering him up
and rinsing him off thoroughly, and then bundling him in thick terry cloth wraps.

“I’ll find you some clean nightclothes,” he whispers, going to the wardrobe and searching its
drawers, while Jimin is left seated on the rug in front of the fire to help his hair dry. When his
friend returns, he lifts his arms obediently, positioning himself in whatever way is needed to help
the other omega fit the pretty material over his head.

Taehyung grabs his brush next, and with great patience he works out every knot from the long
silvery strands until they’re smooth, ending just above his lower back. It makes Jimin’s heart swell,
unable to remember the last time he felt this well taken care of, and gods, does it feel good, the
stress that has been piling on his shoulders lightening.
When Tae’s hand moves to do another pass through of his hair, Jimin reaches up, gripping it softly
in his hold. His head turns, eyes meeting the other's, and he only hopes Taehyung can read
everything in his gaze, because he isn’t sure he could articulate what he feels in that moment even
if he tried, words falling short.

“I know,” Taehyung whispers assuringly, and Jimin shakily exhales, his relief palpable.

His hair is brushed a moment longer, the strands still damp but no longer dripping.

“Come, let’s get you to bed.”

They move together, Taehyung stopping him in front of the stand where the tea rests, and
carefully, he lifts it to his mouth.

Jimin drinks the whole thing down, beyond eager to keep the dreams at bay and sleep through the
night.

Taehyung then guides him to the bed, turning down the blankets and furs to lay him softly on the
covering and then pulling them back up to his chin. Once he has Jimin settled he climbs in after
him, pulling him close and wrapping his small body up in his arms, nuzzling into his neck to calm
him further.

“Thank you,” Jimin slurs, lids already heavy as Tae hums against his neck.

“Sleep now, love. Everything will be better in the morning.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion, but Jimin believes him.

 ________________

Awareness comes slowly, Jimin’s lids feeling swollen shut, body heavy. He blinks open blurry
eyes, taking in the somewhat foggy view out his window.

He slept the night through, not a single dream that he can recall, good or bad, and though he’s still
tired, he hasn’t felt this well-rested in a very long time.

Jimin turns his head, stiff and achy in the way it gets when he’s been in the same position for too
long. Taehyung is still asleep beside him, wrapped around his midsection with a firm grip.

Shifting in his arms, Jimin turns until they’re face to face, Taehyung’s brow furrowing from the
movement before smoothing out again.

“Tae?” he hums, voice hoarse from disuse. “We have to get up, Tae.”

The omega’s long lashes caress his cheeks, fluttering open to reveal tired eyes.

“Hmm?”

“We have to get up. I’m escorting the alphas to the gates at dawn.”

Confusion marrs his expression, that furrow deepening, and Jimin realizes he never told him.
“Which alphas? And why?”

“I gave Seokjin and Yoongi permission to take Jeongguk to scout the treeline of Soksagim in
search of game.”

The omega tenses, suddenly more awake than before.

“Why would you? So close to the woods, aren’t you worried—”

“Of course I am,” Jimin answers honestly. “But we need food, and what will be will be.”

“And what of Seokjin and Yoongi? What if something happens?”

“The watch on the walls will keep as much of an eye on them as they can. And Yoongi and Seokjin
can hold their own.”

Again, Jimin has that feeling. The one that seems to just know that Jeongguk would never do
anything to harm him, and by association, those he cares for.

It's an indescribable kind of certainty.

“If Jeongguk were to somehow escape, he would do so in a way that would not involve or bring
harm to the others. He would just run.”

Taehyung worries his lip, and Jimin is surprised with his next question.
“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What becomes of you if he does escape?”

Jimin’s chest clenches, pain in his lungs as it becomes suddenly difficult to breathe from the
thought alone.

“Whether he stays or goes, I will do what is expected of me.”

The omega looks at him a moment longer before shaking his head in exasperation, though his eyes
are soft and fond.

“Come on, let’s get you dressed then.”

Jimin wears gray, the color complementing both his hair and his complexion, and he covers the
garments with the usual silvery-white cloak he treasures, pairing it with dark riding boots thick
enough to withstand the snow.

Taehyung helps him with his hair next, Twisting the strands near his temple before pinning them
in a swooping line towards the back of his head, collecting every piece to then pile them high in a
ponytail, the long silver of it falling down his back.

Once he's finished, Jimin grabs the wooden box that houses the collar, turning to Taehyung with a
gentle look.
“You don’t have to accompany me outside. I’ll find you when I see this through if you’re more
comfortable.”

But the omega shakes his head before he’s even finished with the offer, a determination taking
over his expression.

“I’ll go with you. Would you like me to check the Great Hall? See if the others are ready?”

“If you don’t mind.”

Taehyung smiles wide and boxy, coming over to smooth down the fur of his cloak.

“I don’t mind,” he assures. “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchens as well. They’ll need provisions
before heading out.”

“Thank you,” Jimin says, squeezing his hand in gratitude.

When they exit his chambers, Taehyung goes one way down the hall while Jimin goes the other,
taking the familiar route to Jeongguk’s room, the box housing the collar in hand.

When he enters, he’s greeted by an unexpected sight, breath leaving him in a rush.

There, atop the bed, gazing out the windows, is the silhouette of a wolf the color of a moonless
sky. Its head turns to gaze at him, dark eyes blinking slowly, unbothered by his presence.
Jimin’s face nearly falls, suddenly so sure this is a nightmare, and that any second the gorgeous
creature is going to fall down dead, as he’s seen it so often do.

Only it doesn’t.

The wolf rises gracefully, loping down off of the bed and slowing its stride as it comes towards
Jimin, as if giving him ample opportunity to ward him away or flee if he wanted to.

Jimin doesn’t want to.

Making no sudden movements of his own, he places the wooden box on the writing desk and
carefully lowers himself to his knees, hands open and held aloft, inviting.

The wolf’s stride quickens as it approaches, and Jimin has to stop himself from cooing when a big
fluffy head nuzzles into his chest, his arms coming up in the form of an embrace, fingers burying in
that thick, soft fur.

“Look at you,” Jimin whispers in awe, the wolf’s eyes glancing up at him, waiting. “See, I was
right. You are a giant,” he grins, playfully ruffling him.

The wolf’s snout bumps up near his throat, wet nose snuffling along his skin and making him
giggle. They stay like that for a moment, Jimin feeling as if he drifts, getting lost in the repetitive
motions of his hands as he pets over tall ears, then along curved ribs.

He watches the great animal back away, moving towards the side of the bed and out of sight. Jimin
hears the telltale snaps from the reshaping of bones, and it isn’t long before Jeongguk’s human
form stands, gifting Jimin with the glorious sight of his bare backside before he averts his gaze,
cheeks burning while he searches desperately for a distraction as the alpha redons his trousers.
“How is your wound?” he calls in question, eyes up towards the rafters.

“See for yourself.”

Jimin really shouldn’t, but he can at least admit for his own peace of mind that he’s weak where
the alpha is concerned.

His traitorous eyes slide over to him, torso bare as he’s come to be familiar with, but that's not what
makes his eyes widen this time. The bite marks have almost completely vanished, leaving behind
new skin.

“That looks…good. Yes—I mean, I’m no healer but it looks…good.”

Even from as far away as he is, Jimin swears he can see an amused curl to Jeongguk’s lips right
before he pulls a thick tunic over his head.

Something seems...different about him.

His hair is down and wild, like he spent hours running his fingers through it, and as Jimin
tentatively inches closer, he notices a heaviness to the alpha’s movements that wasn’t there before,
a weariness to his mannerisms and deep dark circles under his eyes that could rival his own.

“Are you alright? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine, pup. Just tired. It’s been a while since I’ve shifted, and it took more out of me than I
thought it would.”

“Why did you?” Jimin wonders in obvious curiosity, watching as Jeongguk shrugs.

“The collar. My wolf doesn’t like it. Feels like it dulls that side of myself. Besides,” he adds,
continuing to fit his leather brigandine over the tunic, “it’s good to change frequently. Keeps me
and my wolf in tune with one another.”

Jimin hums, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, brow furrowed.

“Does it?”

The rogue suddenly stops, looking up at him from beneath thick lashes.

“When was the last time you changed?”

Jimin turns away, cheeks heating again as he tries to remember and fails.

“I um, I'm not sure.”

He feels it when Jeongguk continues to stare at him incredulously, something unreadable flashing
over his features before they smooth out.

“You should do it,” he advises. “Soon. You might just find a kind of clarity that alluded you
before.”
Jimin doesn’t know about that, or what it’s supposed to mean, but it’s almost impossible to ignore
the despair in his own wolf as it whines in longing inside the confines of his head. They aren’t
exactly of the same mind, and he’ll be the first to admit that he keeps that part of himself almost
completely locked away, preferring the more rational side of his humanity to that of the
impulsiveness of his wolf.

He forces the thought away, and instead refocuses on Jeongguk as he goes to pull on the cloak
Jimin gifted him, watching the way he seems to struggle with it.

“You’re sure you're okay? You don’t feel ill?”

“I’m okay,” he reiterates. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

It seems Jimin isn’t the only one that has that particular problem, then.

“Why not?”

Jeongguk ties the cloak securely, eyes seeming to burn when he returns Jimin’s gaze.

“Lost track of time reading one of the books you left me. Couldn’t put it down.”

It brings an empathetic smile to Jimin's lips. He’s been there before, even still, he cannot help but
worry.

“Would you rather the hunt be postponed?”

Jeongguk is already shaking his head before he can finish his sentence.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures again, and a warmth fills his features that puts Jimin at ease, and before
he can think it through he poses his next offer.

“Would you like me to do your hair for you? I can pin it back so it’s not in the way.”

Jeongguk doesn’t even take time to consider it, just asks, “Where do you want me?”

Swallowing, Jimin avoids the bed as he eyes the room. There’s an old vanity near one of the
windows, made of beautiful mahogany with a dusty mirror perched on top. It was his mother’s
once, and Jimin’s hand is shaky when he motions the alpha towards it.

“Go ahead and sit down, I’ll retrieve my things.”

He’s quick about it, grabbing his brush and several ties, just in case he has need of them. Jeongguk
is still seated when he comes back, unmoving while he gazes at himself in the reflective surface of
the smudged glass, though his eyes slide up to follow Jimin’s form as he approaches. When his
own gaze dares to meet the alpha's, he cannot hold the stare for long. Slightly nervous, and as a
means of distraction, he gets to work.

The alpha’s hair is soft. Jimin already knows this, but each time he feels it sliding between his
fingers he has to force himself not to dwell too long. Not to card through it and pull.

He brushes the knots free instead, and then begins separating the top section from the bottom,
leaving half of his hair loose and pulling the rest away from his face. He pins it back in an intricate
design that Jimin is quite pleased with, having practiced on his own hair in the past until he was
content with the outcome.
He indulges in another run through of the long, loose strands before he removes his hands with a
sigh.

“All finished,” he whispers, freezing when Jeongguk’s fervent gaze once again meets his own in
the reflective glass, something far more intense than what he’s used to staring back at him,
emotions on display rather than hidden behind his usual mask. Instead, he appears startlingly open
and vulnerable.

Jimin knows he’s not imagining it now, Jeongguk is acting differently, and he has no idea why, or
if he should even address it.

“Right,” he declares, a slight tremor to his voice as he backs away in order to retrieve the wooden
box he left on the writing desk. “Let's put this on and then we can go.”

Jeongguk doesn’t bother to stand, just moves his hair up and off of his neck, continuing to study
him in the mirror as Jimin once again approaches.

His movements are quick but careful when he fits the metal around the rogue's throat, the small
padlock clicking into place with finality.

“You look beautiful,” Jeongguk compliments, a small gasp escaping from Jimin's parted lips with
the unexpectedness of alpha's compliment, his voice even and deep, sending tingling shivers down
his spine.

Their eyes meet in the mirror once more, and Jimin can see how calm he is in his sincerity, how
comfortable the rogue is in his own skin, while he; in turn, squirms, cheeks flushing over the
praise.
“T-Thank you,” he stutters, fingers twisting into the soft fabric of his tunic, wrinkling the material.
“You do as well.”

It comes out in a rush, and Jimin really didn’t mean to. There was no thought to reciprocate, even
though he often feels that pressure to receive a compliment with a compliment for lack of anything
better to say.

It’s just that; in his mind, everything falls short where Jeongguk is concerned. Words will never
measure up nor do him justice. To him, the alpha is exquisite in every sense, and anything less
than being able to aptly articulate such will never be enough.

Another glance in the reflection reveals the alpha is still openly staring, though now his lips curve
into a satisfied and pleased smile. Jimin feels caught in it, and he shakes himself before he loses his
sensibilities.

“We s-should—we should go.”

Jeongguk rises fluidly, quiet, though his gaze remains trained on Jimin once he turns, and he can
feel the those eyes the entire way downstairs, even with his back turned.

Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin and Taehyung are already gathered in the Great Hall when they enter,
empty save for the six of them.

“The cart is outside,” Seokjin greets, his scent of cinnamon soothing Jimin enough to put him at
ease. “I’ve got enough arrows to outfit the three of us.”

“And bows?”
“Plenty of them, too.”

“Have you eaten?”

The question seems to catch him off guard.

“Me, my lord?” Seokjin asks, and Jimin smiles and nods.

“All of you. I believe Taehyung is having rations packed. Make sure you don't go too long on an
empty stomach.”

Seokjin’s frown smooths out and he gives a small bow in gratitude.

“Of course, my lord.”

They wait a moment longer until someone from the kitchens comes to meet them on quickened
steps, offering a basket full of warm, covered food.

“Minhei,” Jimin greets in pleasant surprise, watching as the boy’s cheeks flush red when he lowers
himself into a bow. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You as well, my lord. I cannot thank you enough for your gift.”

Jimin waves that away with a warm smile.

“It was the least I could do after all your help. Does the cloak fit you alright? I had to eye the size."

"It f-fits perfectly my lord. You are too kind."

"If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to let me know.”

Minhei stutters his repeated thanks, bowing once more as he backs away to retreat to the kitchens,
his nervous stare taking in Jeongguk's imposing figure as he goes, and Jimin realizes this is the first
time a regular member of the pack has seen him.

He looks terrified before disappearing, and Jimin has to fight the urge to chase after the boy and
reassure him.

“Are we ready?” Yoongi asks, gesturing towards the doors, and Jimin nods, already drawing up
the hood of his cloak in preparation.

"You care deeply for your people," Jeongguk murmurs near his ear, another shiver shooting down
his spine over the heat of his breath and the soft cadence of his tone.

"Of course," he whispers back. "Their lives are hard enough, if I can ease that burden even a little,
it's worth it."

When Jeongguk speaks again, there's a warmth to his voice that takes his breath away.
"You're a good leader, Park Jimin. A rarity for most in positions of power."

Jimin knows that to be true, knows he strives to be fair and just, but to hear it from an outsider,
from Jeongguk, pleases him beyond words, a blush decorating his skin.

He can feel how much the temperature has dropped as soon as they step foot outside, Jeongguk
once again a quiet presence beside him, his own black cloak drawn close, the large hood nearly
concealing his eyes.

They move carefully down the stone steps and approach the cart waiting for them. Jimin
recognizes the horse harnessed to it immediately, and makes time to give her an affectionate rub
between her big brown eyes, happy to see her again.

“Bongcha, old girl. How are you?”

She snuffles and throws her head down, making Jimin giggle.

“My apologies,” he replies with contrition. “You’re not old at all.”

Rather than walk like the last time he ventured into Soksagim, the six of them climb up into the
cart, Seokjin taking the front and the reins, guiding Bongcha down the snow covered path.

They’re all silent on the way there, the only sounds are that of hooves sinking into the fresh
powder, and the squeakiness of the cart's wheels. Jimin curls in on himself, attempting to conserve
warmth while his eyes watch across the wagon at the way Yoongi sneaks surreptitious glances in
Taehyung's direction, the omega’s gaze focused on the road ahead. Each time he shifts, Yoongi
quickly averts his gaze, clearly fearing he’ll be discovered.

It makes Jimin feel sad, sure that if they just spoke to each other, they could soothe the hurt
they’ve caused and make sense of the misunderstanding that now forms the basis of their
relationship.

Though he knows he doesn’t have room to talk, his own eyes flitting towards Jeongguk, jumping
when he sees the alpha is already watching him.

Unlike Yoongi, Jeongguk doesn't look away. He doesn’t pretend that it was an accident that their
eyes met, either. No, he holds Jimin’s stare, unashamed, and Jimin’s omega lifts its head, wanting
to nip at the alpha’s ear to see what he'll do.

Or his neck.

Jimin doesn’t address it, but he also refuses to shift his gaze. It would feel too much like giving up
if he did.

When they finally reach the northern gate, They all clambor out of the cart, Jimin boldly grabbing
the rogue’s hand and taking Jeongguk aside as soon as their feet sink into the snow. He wants to
use what little time they have left to speak to the alpha, while Jin inspects the integrity of the cart’s
wheels, muttering to himself and the shire horse all the while.

They’re granted as much privacy as can be afforded, and Jimin tries to smile, keeping his
expression bright and his tone teasing when he asks his question.

“Will you bring food for me, or am I never going to see you again?”
Jeongguk’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, the sharpened points of his canines turning the skin
white as he stares at Jimin’s own mouth before glancing up with those wide expressive eyes.

“This isn’t goodbye,” he swears, though he seems distracted, lost as he searches Jimin's features,
his breathing labored. “I’ll come back to you.”

That seems…like a more intimate declaration than what Jimin was expecting, heart skipping a beat
when abyss-like eyes bore into his own.

“Just be careful out there, okay? Don’t stay out too long, whether you find any game or not you do
not want to be caught out, and it looks like the snow will keep up.”

“Your nose is very red,” Jeongguk points out, and Jimin stares at him open-mouthed, eyes wide.

“Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

“Of course,” the alpha assures, and the next thing Jimin knows, the back of his head is cupped in a
gentle grip, and his face is being guided into the rogue's chest, covered with the soft black fur of
the cloak he gave him.

No longer does it smell of dust, nor the muted scent of thyme carried over from his father. It smells
like Jeongguk now, and he can’t even find it in himself to fight the urge to nuzzle deeper into it, his
nose regaining feeling as it’s inadvertently warmed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeongguk promises for his benefit, fingers caressing over his hood-
covered neck and making Jimin’s eyes flutter. “And I’ll be careful. We’re not even going into the
woods, but I know them better than anyone here.”
“Yes, well, still,” he mumbles into the fur, his voice terribly muffled. “Stay safe.”

He lifts his head back up, directing imploring eyes at the alpha, who stares down at him with a
look of fondness that fills Jimin's stomach with molten liquid. Jeongguk's other hand comes up, and
Jimin can’t even shiver when cold fingers trace along his neck; beneath the hood this time, right
over his scent gland, the warmth in his belly becoming too intense, an ache throbbing between his
legs.

“I will, Jimin.”

The moment breaks when Bongcha whinnies, Seokjin calling that they’re ready, the two of them
slowly stepping away from each other as if loathe to do so.

“Remember, just until dusk," Jimin says, addressing the three alphas once they come together
again. "We’ll meet you back here, but if you need to come in sooner do not hesitate to do so."

Jimin steps back, Yoongi and Jeongguk climbing into the cart once more while Seokjin reclaims
his place at the front, reins in hand.

Jimin watches them go with Namjoon on his right and Taehyung on his left, Jeongguk’s eyes never
leaving him, even as the distance between them expands and grows, and he's left to try and puzzle
out what just happened between him and his captive.

The trek back is far more challenging, having no additional horse-drawn carts to carry them up to
the Great Lodge, and the cold is brutal.

Jimin’s nose is numb again, and likewise the warmth that Jeongguk always manages to kindle in
his core has diminished with his absence. It’s as if the alpha took it with him when he left, and
Jimin fears he’ll be cold for the rest of his days if he does not return.
Once they ascend the slippery steps of the Great Lodge, Taehyung poses a question to him, gaze
curious.

“What would you like to do now?”

“Now?" Jimin wonders. "Now I would like you both to join me in the Great Hall. We shall dine
together.”

Taehyung beams at him, clearly pleased that he's taking his advice, while Namjoon raises a
surprised brow, though he looks just as taken with the idea.

They sit at what Jimin labels as his father’s table, raised on the same dais as the one he uses to
address the pack. He takes his usual chair rather than that of the head alpha’s, the other two
choosing one seat next to him, and one seat across. It’s still early yet, but as the servants bring out
rice, fish, and eggs for them, early risers begin to pour in, eager for their share of the food on offer.

Hoseok is the first among them, and Jimin immediately invites him to their table. Though he
doesn't address it yet, it must be obvious that he's eager to, his eyes seeming to hold his questions
in his gaze as the healer shakes his head, offering answers to unspoken inquiries.

“The number of infected holds, my lord. As of now, there are no more casualties, and no more
reported to be showing symptoms.”

“That’s good then?”

“I’m optimistic, but the nature of these things is unpredictable.”

More of the pack begin to file in, and a great number of them appear to be pleasantly surprised to
see Jimin there. He greets as many as he can before the hall becomes too crowded and chaotic,
making conversation difficult.

During the meal, he looks over at Taehyung in gratitude, basking in his warm smile. This was the
right decision, and he has every intention of following through with the omega’s other suggestions
as well.

He’ll endear the pack to him, until all rumors of dissension vanish.

They finish their meal, the omega server Hanyu bowing to him and taking their plates away,
Taehyung and Namjoon once more flanking him as Jimin stops to greet several pack members,
inquiring about their health and that of their families, happily accepting their eager well wishes for
his father, sincere in the way his would-be suitors have not yet managed to emulate.

He stays as long as he can before informing his two companions about his plan to visit his father,
dismissing them to their own devices, though Namjoon escorts him to the high alpha's chambers,
leaving with a gentle squeeze along his shoulder.

Haneul is knitting in the chair next to his father’s bed, what looks to be the beginnings of a blanket
or a scarf in the color vermillion, the shade startling enough that Jimin’s mind flashes with the
image of a crimson lake, so hot it melts snow into slush.

He’s shaken from such thoughts once the old beta speaks.

“I get very little opportunity to leave the lord's side these days, you know, but even I have been
made aware of the rogue within our walls that is being held in the room next to your own.”

Jimin remains quiet, eyes sliding over to his father’s unresponsive form, unreasonably nervous that
he’s heard what he's done, and will shoot up in bed to scold him at any moment.
When he remains as still as ever, he meets Haneul's gaze again, her milky eyes wide behind
magnified spectacles, and there’s almost something he would describe as mischievous in her
expression.

“Your servants don’t know how to stop their tongues from wagging. Too young to remember the
ways of the old alpha and his punishments, otherwise they wouldn’t spread gossip so freely.”

“Part of the reason for his overthrown rule was to avoid living in fear. As long as their gossiping
doesn’t hurt anyone, I don’t see a reason to put an end to it.”

Haneul shrugs as if it is inconsequential.

“So it is true, then?”

Once again, Jimin’s eyes shift to his father’s form, a sadness filling him over his diminished state,
but at the same time thankful he can't bear witness to Jimin's questionable decisions.

It is likely he would be disappointed.

“It is true.”

Haneul laughs, a withered, rasping sound that almost has Jimin wincing in sympathy, a question
leaving her cracking lips once she settles down.
“He came from the forest?”

“He did.”

Haneul laughs again, though quieter this time.

“How very interesting.”

Jimin feels his expression shift, wanting her to elaborate, but he came here for his father, not the
vague riddles of an old healer.

“Any news?”

“He sleeps, though fitfully. Periods of lucidity are becoming more common, but they do not last for
long. I have hope that he’ll wake fully, rather than these short instances of disorientation.”

“Has he eaten anything?”

“Small scraps, food high in nourishment that is easy on the stomach. As I said, I have hope he’ll
make it. He’s doing well.”

Jimin feels relief, but it’s already gone too far. His father has been asleep for so long, and it is
unknown what state he’ll be in once he fully wakes up.

If he wakes up.
And though detestable, Doyun was right about some things.

Jimin needs to take a mate. It’ll put everything back to rights and quell any talks of rebellion or
potential coups.

He nods at the old beta, going around to the other side of the bed where he pulls another chair to
the edge and leans forward towards his father, grabbing his limp hand in his own. Jimin maneuvers
his body closer, trying to ignore the fact that he technically has an audience, and buries his nose
against the alpha's wrist, tears prickling along his eyes when the smell of thyme is hardly
discernible.

They’ve had their problems in the past, he and his father, but they have both suffered the same
losses, and he’s the only family Jimin has left.

He stays there for some time, the sound of his alpha’s labored breaths joining with the clacking of
Haneul’s knitting needles, a strange amalgamation that makes Jimin far more aware of the passing
minutes than he’s comfortable with. The sun is high but hidden behind dark ominous clouds when
he finally stands, bowing deeply to the healer and leaving.

Jimin is adrift and listless the rest of the day, unsure what to do.

Jeongguk’s absence is strongly felt, making the hours drag, that thrill he’s been carrying inside of
him; like a little secret that whispers of possibilities and excitement thrumming just beneath his
skin, is extinguished.

He's almost despondent, which is ridiculous. What’s going to happen when the alpha returns home
and they never see each other again?
Jimin is almost too afraid to think about it.

Instead, he has his midday meal in the Great Hall again, Namjoon and Taehyung rejoining him.

Speaking to the pack keeps him occupied, and it feels good to be able to converse normally,
without the pressure to find a solution to their problems, or to settle disputes or evade poor attempts
at courting, but to just talk.

Maru is expecting. Yoonjae is taking over his father’s work, and Seiha lost her first tooth. Jimin
laughs with them. Congratulates them and does his best to be encouraging. Attentive, like
Taehyung had advised, and he’s so grateful it feels natural. That for the first time in days, he feels
like his regular self again, and not a replacement for his father.

Just Jimin.

Time goes by quickly after that, and Namjoon informs him it won’t be long before dusk, and that
he should prepare himself for the trip to the gates.

He’s on his way back from his chambers, securing his fur cloak around himself when he
remembers.

The book!

He left the book on imprinting in Jeongguk’s room.

Jimin goes straight there, the guards still at their post to keep out any potential nosey staff. Once
they open the door for him, he immediately goes to the side table where he remembers setting it
down, only—
It’s not there anymore.

Jimin’s eyes search the space, checking the tops of chests, the empty shelves and even the floor,
trying to spot where it had got to. Dropping to the ground, he even searches underneath the bed as
well as the armchairs near the fire.

Nothing.

Taehyung finds him like that, brow pinched in concern.

“There you are, we should be going if we want to catch them.”

He pauses when he takes in Jimin’s agitated manner.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Jimin sighs. “Was just trying to find something, but it can wait till later.”

Together they exit Jeongguk’s room, meeting up with Namjoon at the large doors that lead to the
outer courtyard. Once again, Jimin dons the hood of his cloak and braces himself.

It feels colder than before, the impending night bringing on a significant drop in temperature more
aptly felt after Jimin reacclimated to the warmth of the Lodge. They stick close together,
attempting to share in their body heat as they traverse the quickest path to the gates. Jimin’s legs
ache by the time they get there, and he holds a fist up to signal the keeper on duty, the doors
groaning open a moment later.
His eyes squint, visibility poor since the snow has picked up, and it feels as if there’s a lump in his
throat and a vice grip around his heart.

They're nowhere to be seen.

He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he had been half-hoping they would already be
on the other side, waiting for them to be let in. His omega begins to whine, panicking.

What if Jeongguk lied, and he really did leave?

No. He wouldn’t. He promised.

What if something happened? What if they came across an animal that overpowered them, or the
storm is worse closer to Soksagim, and now they can’t find their way back.

Next to him, Taehyung takes hold of his hand, while Namjoon leans close to his ear.

“Breathe,” he orders, calm as can be.

Jimin breathes, soothed by the sudden spike of both cypress trees and bergamot and citrus.

“We’ll give them a few more minutes,” the guard decides, and Jimin bites his lip to ground
himself.
He shouldn’t have let them stay out so long. The weather alone is treacherous—

The sound of creaky wheels is what he hears first, mistaking it for the wail of the wind, but then
Bongcha materializes from the flurry of white, and just behind her is Seokjin’s red, pinched face,
worry clearly written in his features before his eyes widen, yanking on the reins quickly so he
doesn’t run them down.

“Sorry my lord,” he calls, barely heard above the storm. “I can’t see fuck all out here.”

Jimin’s never felt such relief, but it’s short lived with the alpha’s next words.

“Climb in quickly, we need to get to a healer.”

Jimin’s stomach drops, and he immediately rushes to the back of the cart, scrabbling up, ignoring
the few game carcasses piled off to the side as his wide-eyed gaze desperately tries to find
Jeongguk, to make sure he’s okay.

Yoongi is on the left near the middle, looking tired but otherwise no worse for wear, and when
Jimin turns frantically to the right, he sees Jeongguk then, curled in on himself at the back, arms
tucked beneath his cloak, appearing to clutch his stomach.

Jimin goes to him immediately, hearing both Taehyung and Namjoon climb up behind him.

“Jeongguk,” he whispers when he moves in close, and it’s easy to discern how terrified he is, if not
from his unsteady voice, then from the wilting of his scent. “Jeongguk, are you alright?”

His voice trembles almost as much as his hands do when they reach out and cup the tepid skin of
the alpha’s cheeks, and as Jimin touches him, Jeongguk seems to reanimate, wide, worried doe-like
eyes finding his, and Jimin tries to get closer, wants to offer comfort in his proximity, his wolf
eager to nuzzle and scent.

But Jeongguk holds him at bay, giving a sharp shake of his head that stops Jimin in his tracks. The
cold sting of rejection is far worse than winter’s biting chill. It hurts, his wolf crying out in sorrow,
but Jimin still needs to know. Needs to make sure the rogue is okay.

“What happened? Where are you hurt?”

Jeongguk shakes his head again, chin motioning down.

“Not me,” he tells him, features softening, and Jimin watches as his cloak is shifted aside.

There, nestled in the curve of his arm, is a small, snowy white owl.

________________

Hoseok is no stranger to tending animals, but even Jimin thinks that this will be his first raptor
patient. While they wait for him to make the journey to Jeongguk’s room where only Jimin has
dared to follow, the alpha recounts how he discovered the bird of prey.

“Near the treeline, in the field of cut-down oaks. Your woodcutters have yet to return, leaving most
of what they cut down where it landed. Her home was one among many. Found her attempting to
fly. Never would have seen her if she hadn’t cried so loud.”

Jimin’s heart aches, something in him twisting that the bird’s home was lost because of them. That
she was hurt for it.

“How do you know it’s female?”

Jeongguk looks at him, and there's something sharp in his features that catches him off guard, the
alpha clearly upset.

“She’s an albino screech owl. Their breed is small, but the females are always larger.”

The tense air is forgotten when Hoseok arrives, his fraser fir scent as familiar as his overflowing
satchel of supplies.

It's more than likely the owl is in shock, as it puts up virtually no fight when Jeongguk lays her out
on her back on the nearby side table.

“It’s her wing,” he says, holding her firmly with one hand and stretching the limb with the other.

She has a nasty gash near the bone, long but thin. Hoseok dons his magnified spectacles and
inspects it, working fast in order to thoroughly clean the area.

“She’s been exposed to the cold for too long. It’s likely affected her ability to fight off infection.”

Hoseok digs in his satchel again, and produces a clear bottle that both Jimin and Jeongguk
recognize, the harsh scent wafting in the air when it’s uncapped to make them flinch.

“Jimin, get that bowl on the chest over there and the pitcher next to it. We need to dilute this.”
Jimin eagerly retrieves the items, grateful to be of use and to have something to do.

“Good,” Hoseok praises when he brings them back. "Now pour the water until I tell you to stop.”

Jimin pours, and at the same time, Hoseok adds some of the strong-smelling fluid from the bottle.

“Stop.”

He holds the pitcher upright, cutting off the flow before returning it to the chest.

Hoseok just finishes stirring it when Jimin comes back, the bowl held aloft.

“Try and keep her still,” he directs at Jeongguk, the alpha giving a firm nod.

The liquid is poured over the angry wound, the area immediately fizzing and bubbling while the
owl lets out a horrific shriek, attempting to get away from the pain. Her small beak latches onto the
stretched skin of Jeongguk’s hand, unable to get a good grasp, but drawing blood all the same.

Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch.

Hoseok takes the ointment out next, uncapping it, and they watch as his fingers scoop up a
generous amount, smoothing it gently over the torn skin. The owl trills pitifully, and Jimin nearly
whimpers in sympathy along with her, his wolf whining as well.
Jeongguk continues to hold her as Hoseok further extends and begins to wrap her injured wing.

“It’s not broken, but she’ll likely try to pick at it. I think she’ll be okay, but I would still advise
watching over her in case she gets sick. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I’m already full up on
patients—”

“I’ll watch her,” Jeongguk interjects, and Jimin eyes him, noting the concern in his gaze.

“Do you have something she can burrow into? Preferably dark that can be placed high up.”

Jimin goes to the chest of old toys that were meant for him and his brother, digging through it until
he comes across the wooden house his father had carved when he was a child. The back opens and
closes, the inside dark and empty with only two small windows cut out.

“Will this do?”

“That’s perfect,” Hoseok assures after Jimin holds it up for him to see.

Jeongguk is heartbreakingly gentle when he sequesters her in there, her little soft trills and the
clicking of her beak muffled slightly when the back is closed shut. Carefully, he takes the wooden
house from Jimin’s hold and places it on one of the high, empty shelves.

“Try and check on her every hour,” Hoseok advises. “Offer water and meat, but don't force her.”

Jeongguk easily agrees, his eyes focused on her makeshift home, until the beta poses another
question.
"Do you still have what I gave you for your side?"

"Some, but not much."

"Then I'll leave these here and come back to change her bandages in a couple of hours," the healer
informs, motioning to the medical supplies. "In the meantime, use them on your hand," he instructs
the alpha, and Jimin winces when he sees that blood still flows sluggishly from the wound.

Jimin thanks him profusely, accompanying the healer to the door, a heavy sigh escaping his lips
once he’s gone. Jeongguk is watching him when he turns back around, and that soft affection from
earlier this morning is nowhere to be seen.

It makes him wary, but he still wants to take care of him.

"Let me help you with your injury."

He receives no fight at the suggestion, Jeongguk merely keeping still and holding his arm up while
Jimin goes through the familiar motions of cleaning and dressing the broken skin, moving away to
dispose of the now red-stained cloth he used to wipe away the area.

“What has made you so angry?” he finally asks, voice unwavering.

Jeongguk doesn't bother to feign as if nothing is wrong, and immediately lists his grievances.

“You’re killing the forest. I saw the fields of torn down trees out there, the roots left to rot in the
ground. Your people keep taking and taking and taking and yet they give nothing back. They do
not cultivate new growth, nor remove the old. Animals are being displaced,” he seethes, motioning
to the dark wooden house on the shelf, a fire in his eyes. “It’s selfish, and greedy, but most of all
it’s unnecessary and you're allowing this to happen.”

Jimin doesn’t know how to react, or what to feel, the experience akin to that when his mother
would scold him when she was still alive. He shouldn't be as upset as he is, even if it feels like just
another thing to drown in. Tears spring to his eyes, Jeongguk swimming in his gaze, and he wants
to defend himself and apologize all at once.

And then he wants to hurt Jeongguk as much as he's hurt him, the childish part of himself he was
never fully able to be rid of eager to lash out in embarrassment, especially when the alpha's blurry
figure seems to regret his harsh-worded approach, a look of contrition overtaking his features,
discernible even in his current state.

“Oh, pup, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” Jimin sniffles, the word loud and harsh in the quiet space as he holds up a hand to stop
him in his tracks. “Don’t apologize, and Don’t take it back. You’re right, so I don’t need your
regret,” he spits out, though his voice dips and cracks in obvious upset, feeling as if every stress
and hardship he’s managed to somehow balance on his shoulders thus far comes tumbling down
around him, all his effort in attempting to keep everything from falling apart wasted.

Jeongguk ignores the flat palm he still holds out towards him like a deterrent, and crosses the
distance in three long strides, pulling Jimin into his chest and wrapping his arms securely around
his trembling form.

“Shh,” he coos, fingers dancing over the aching muscles of his back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m
sorry. I know it’s not your fault, I didn’t mean it.”

Jimin shakes his head adamantly, cheeks heating further over the endearment, and lifts his arms,
unsure if he wants to hang onto the alpha or push him away, hating that he appears so vulnerable
before him.
His body trembles and quakes as he finally lets his tears fall as quietly as he can, the wave of
emotion rolling over him relentless and unyielding, as if he can hold back the dam no longer.
Through it all, Jeongguk holds him tightly, humming beneath his breath, chest rumbling against his
cheek. It's oddly soothing, almost as much as the familiar pheromones of rosemary and cloves he
purposefully emits, settling his nerves.

When Jimin calms down enough he tries to speak, unsure why he feels the need to explain himself
when the only crime he's committed is one of ignorance on the matter, but he does.

“I didn’t know,” he whispers, voice small. “Not until the day we met, I didn’t know.”

Jeongguk shushes him, thumbs gentle when they trace under his eyes, wiping his tears away with
the calloused pads of his thumbs while he repeats his earlier sentiment.

“It’s not your fault. I was upset and I took it out on you when I had no right. I’m so sorry, pup.”

Jimin buries his face in Jeongguk’s chest again, body shivering as if back out in the cold. His arms
finally decide to wrap around the alpha’s waist, gripping him tightly, like he's afraid he'll slip
away.

When he thinks about it from Jeongguk's perspective, he can't help but feel It must’ve been a
terrible sight for him. After all, the forest is his home, and Jimin has long since wondered about the
wood that is harvested, obviously more so in preparation for the winter months. But even still, he
was appalled to witness that same field of cut-down trees he mentioned, their stumps left like grave
markers in the ground, land wasted.

He had planned to make changes come spring. Starting with the removal of the trunks in order to
till and cultivate the soil. Then they would plant anew, replacing what they had taken, exactly as
Jeongguk had said.
If it were his home, Jimin would be angry too.

“I’ll change it,” he vows, lifting his head to stare up at the other man. “When the snow melts, I’ll
have the stumps removed and new trees planted.”

Jeongguk’s eyes soften even more, that warm, gentle hand sliding down to cup his cheek.

“A worry for another time. How can I help you calm down, pup? You've been trembling with panic
since the gates.”

“I thought something had happened to you,” Jimin admits, almost too quiet to be heard. “Thought
you were hurt.”

“And it affected you this much?” Jeongguk asks gently, though it’s as if his eyes sparkle with
emotion, like he knows something Jimin doesn’t.

Rather than answering, he pouts.

“You yelling at me didn’t help.”

“I’m very sorry, truly. I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

Jimin hums at the sincerity, and though things feel easier, he still can’t stop himself from shaking,
the response so bad his teeth nearly chatter, unable to calm his body's reaction.

“Let me help you, sweetheart,” Jeongguk pleads, causing Jimin’s stomach to burn at the return of
the endearment, that fire spreading when he looks up and sees the pure need in the alpha’s eyes, as
if Jimin’s comfort and happiness affects his own.

He knows what will help, they both do, but with their visceral reaction to each other, it's
inadvisable.

Dangerous.

At this moment, Jimin can’t find it in himself to care.

“Scent me?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen as if he can't believe Jimin actually said the words, rosemary and cloves
surrounding them both.

“You’re sure?”

“Scent me, alpha. Please.”

Jeongguk’s pupils dilate, a tinge of crimson bleeding into them, fingers clenching and unclenching
as he seems to try and get ahold of himself, so clearly affected by the title that Jimin can't help but
grin, though it falls away with Jeongguk's next question.

“And if something is to happen that you are not ready for?”

“Why would it? You’ve managed to maintain your control thus far,” he retorts, bratty, challenging
with a complacent smile, and that familiar fire flashes in the rogue’s eyes.

“Oh, pup, you have no idea.”

“How could I when we refuse to address it.”

Jeongguk’s voice is husky with his reply.

“Let us address it, then.”

Jimin...was not expecting that. It shouldn't be that easy.

Should it?

Though it would seem it is, and now that he’s been given the chance to discuss this, words fail
him, and ultimately decides that actions might be better.

Taking Jeongguk’s hand in his own, he guides it up to his neck, right over his scent gland where he
so desperately wants to feel him, lids fluttering when his heart picks up, polianthes and petrichor
filling the space to mingle with rosemary and cloves until Jimin feels dizzy with it, his body
practically thrumming in the alpha’s hold, an ache spreading inside of him that makes his thighs
clench in an attempt to soothe it away, flushing at the way his hole flutters, releasing a steady flow
of leaking slick.

“This—” he moans, his eyes not wanting to stay open when his head tips back, baring his throat to
the wolf’s hungry gaze, the sound of a sharp, ragged exhale reaching him through the fog. “It
shouldn’t feel like this, should it?” he wonders, unsure. “Does it always feel this good?”
He knows it doesn’t. He’s scented Taehyung and Namjoon countless times, reveling in the
affection both him and his wolf have for them.

But this.

This is something else entirely.

One touch from the alpha and he’s lost.

Jeongguk’s grip around his waist tightens, toeing the line of too tight, but it only makes Jimin want
it more, his omega whining to come out.

“Gods, look at you,” he hears Jeongguk whisper, and he silently preens, guiding Jeongguk’s hand
along his skin, feeling his fingers spasm.

“Tell me,” he begs. “Am I alone in this? Is it the same for you? Is it just as consuming for you as it
is for me?”

Jimin’s head lolls forward, and when he manages to open his eyes again, Jeongguk’s are nearly
swallowed up by his pupils, barely any white visible from the size of it, more wolf than man,
though he still wears the collar, and Jimin’s heart skips a beat at the way his lips part, sharp
canines gleaming in the dim light while his nostrils flare, as if attempting not to let any of Jimin’s
scent escape.

“Touch me,” the alpha commands, the sound a deep rumble of a thing, absorbing into Jimin’s body
and making him tremble even more.
He reaches out a hand, eager to obey, fingers twitching just before they brush along his unlaced
tunic, petting over the patch of exposed skin along his chest. He wants to trace over Jeongguk's
own scent gland, feel its heat as it thrums beneath his touch, but the damn metal of the collar
thwarts his attempts, and he's so far gone he never once realizes he could remove it with the key
that still burns against his sternum.

Instead he whines when a growl vibrates beneath his touch, the rosemary in particular spiking,
getting headier from this alone.

Their eyes meet, the distance between them shrinking smaller and smaller.

“It’s not just you,” Jeongguk promises, and Jimin’s knees nearly buckle he feels such startling
relief.

Slowly, and with purpose, he bares his neck.

That’s all it takes.

Jeongguk lunges, as if to attack, and in a way he does, his face burying into the crook of his skin,
the tip of his nose tracing over the slope of it, his soft lips following.

Jimin whimpers, fingers clawing at the alpha as he tilts farther back to give him better access.
Jeongguk’s arms wrap him up, pulling him in even tighter to his own body when he feels unsteady.
Right over his scent gland he takes in a deep inhale, polianthes and petrichor blooming beneath his
attention.

A moan tears passed Jimin's mouth, eyes rolling up when the wolf buries his face in his neck as if
he'll never leave, never again come up for air, skin burning along the delicate curve as he takes in
another deep pull, lips warm and wet when they follow.
“Gods, Jimin, the moment I saw you—”

A hot, wet tongue laps right over that sensitive place, Jimin’s eyes wide and then fluttering with the
sensation, the grip he has on the rogue almost painful, afraid to fall. He’s hard and hot all over, the
strength in his frame alone making his omega whine in approval.

"T-Tell me."

Jeongguk nuzzles even deeper into Jimin's neck, making him mewl with pleasure, more slick
dripping down his thighs, seeping into his clothes.

"The world became brighter. Felt like a missing piece of myself that I didn't even realize was gone
came back to me."

"I—I know,” he stutters, remembering the feeling. “It was the same for me. Want you. Want all of
you all the time.”

Jimin cries out again after the confession, can't help it, the intensity of Jeongguk's assault
increases, the alpha growling into the curve of his throat, lips kissing the sensitive flesh like one
would a lover.

"You're leaking through your clothes."

His cheeks flush at the observation, and Jimin clings to him out of both desire and necessity,
fearing he'll lose himself if he doesn't.
"Can't help it. You make me feel so good."

Jimin writhes against him, almost crying overwhelmed tears when his thigh brushes up against
Jeongguk's arousal, rigid with heat. A testament to his desire.

"I always will," the alpha swears. "If you let me, I'll spend a lifetime and more making you feel this
way."

Jeongguk’s teeth graze at the junction near his shoulder, and Jimin shivers so violently that the
rogue has to tighten his hold on him just to keep him from collapsing to the ground.

Both Jimin and his omega are in agreement, neither one wishing for anything more, except for the
alpha’s mouth to widen, teeth clamping, sinking in to mark him as his mate.

"Please," he begs. "I want you too. I want you."

“Shhh,” Jeongguk soothes against his ear, taking the lobe into his mouth before letting it go again.
“You can have me, I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

...

But for how long, Jimin wants to ask, and with that sinking question, his body goes cold.

Tense.

Jeongguk feels it too.

He pulls away slowly, a furrow in his brow as he attempts to clear the haze of desire from his eyes.

“What is it?" Jeongguk whispers, concern laced in his tone. "What’s wrong?”

Nothing, he wants to say. Everything?

Because though the mutual pull of whatever this is settles him and lifts him high at the same time,
filling him with a warmth he cannot describe—nor has he ever felt before—it doesn’t change
anything in the end.

Does it?

“We can’t,” he whispers, regret coating his voice in sorrow. “I can’t.”

Jeongguk’s eyes search his, and Jimin hates that he sees a flash of deep-rooted hurt take over his
expression. But rather than fight it, he simply murmurs, “You did say it would complicate things."

“It would. It does. I have to choose the next high alpha, and you have said many times that you do
not wish to stay.”

Jeongguk’s face falls, and he has never seen him appear so torn.

“You could come with me.”

Jimin's heart breaks with how hopeful he sounds, already shaking his head before his offer is even
finished, rejecting it even as it pains him to do so.

“My place is here.”

“In a pack where you’re forced to mate because they do not value your status?”

“That’s exactly why I have to stay,” Jimin implores, desperate for him to understand. “I can change
things here. For the better. If I leave, it all falls apart, everything we’ve tried to build. I can’t do
that. There are others counting on me.”

“You’re making a martyr of yourself.”

“It’s not so dramatic,” he mumbles, tugging on an ink-black strand, the curl bouncing back into
place once he releases it, allowing its shape to reform.

They hold each other a moment longer, Jeongguk nosing along his temples as he follows his
hairline, tightening his grip and clearly putting off having to let him go.

“It’s getting worse,” Jimin reveals, even as he knows this only makes it harder, shivering when he
feels the other’s hot breath ghost over his skin.

“What is?”

“This,” he answers. “What I feel for you. I think about you all the time. Want to be near you. Feel
you. You’re everywhere and it’s only been a matter of days. What’s going to happen when you
leave? How am I supposed to mate someone else?”
Jeongguk keens low in his throat, grip tightening once more for a moment before it eases like an
involuntary response.

Jimin can’t help but wonder what the rogue’s home must be like, since he’s so eager to get back to
it, and a thought invades his mind, persistent and unable to be ignored, like a pebble in his shoe.

“Is there someone waiting for you,” he asks tentatively, afraid to look at him, scared of what he
could see.

“What do you mean,” Jeongguk wonders, the words spoken into the silver strands of his hair.

“Back home, in the forest. Is there someone waiting for you there? Someone you miss?”

“I am unattached,” Jeongguk answers, pulling away so he can study Jimin’s expression, and both
him and his omega mourn the loss of his proximity.

“Why do you ask?”

His lip nearly wobbles.

“I just want to understand why you’re so eager to leave.”

The 'me' at the end of the sentence isn’t spoken aloud, but it’s heard all the same.
Jeongguk shakes his head, soft cooing sounds emitting from him meant to comfort as Jimin is once
again pulled to his chest.

“I’m not,” he swears. “How could I be?”

At that, his fingers drift feather light over his neck once more, sending shivers curling down
Jimin’s spine.

“It’s just…”

Jimin looks up at him then when he drifts off, their eyes meeting as the same thought enters their
heads.

“Complicated,” they both say in unison.

Jeongguk smiles down at him, so sweet that it makes Jimin’s chest constrict, heart quickening
when the pad of his thumb traces along his bottom lip.

“I have something of yours,” Jeongguk suddenly reveals, and Jimin sighs when he is released,
watching him approach his bed, lifting up the furs and pulling free a familiar leather-bound book
with a faded title.

“I was searching for that,” he admits, reaching for the book when Jeongguk offers it to him,
realization dawning. “Did you read it? Is that why you were so tired this morning?”

Jeongguk nods in honesty, brow slightly pinched.

“I have never heard of it before,” he reveals, and Jimin is surprised when his expression transforms
into something more determined. “You should read it. Some things might start to make sense.”

Jimin nods even though he wants to ask the alpha to elaborate. Instead, he wraps the book up in his
arms, as if afraid he’ll leave it behind again otherwise, wondering what it was that Jeongguk
learned to make him act so differently afterwards.

“I’ll just—” he motions behind him towards the door, the alpha grinning over his sudden
awkwardness. “I’ll drop this off in my room."

"You might want to change as well, sweetheart," he smirks, eyes sinking to Jimin's trousers.

His cheeks burn, tugging his cloak tighter around himself to hide the material.

"Right, yes. I'll do that," he practically chokes out, mortified over his obvious state of arousal even
as Jeongguk's smile and fondness grows visibly in his features.

It softens something in Jimin, and the offer is out before he really knows what he's doing.

"Would you like to accompany me to the Great Hall for supper?”

Jeongguk’s expression morphs into one of surprise, and he searches Jimin’s face extensively,
slightly hesitant, so Jimin rushes to put him at ease.

"You don't have to, of course. Only if you're comfortable."

 Jeongguk seems to carefully consider it before making his decision.

“I would like that,” he decides, and Jimin feels his lips spread into a wide genuine smile, the two of
them staring at one another as if unable to look away.

He remembers what Taehyung had said, his words echoing around in Jimin's mind with their
suggestion.

Let the pack get used to seeing you two together until it's common. They will not find fault in it
when the time comes.

Now that he knows Jeongguk is equally affected, that he's not as eager to leave as he was before, it
fills him with a lightness he hasn't experienced in weeks. For the first time in a long while; at least
when it comes to his future, Jimin feels the beginning stirrings of hope.

Chapter End Notes

Now we're getting somewhere.

 Dinner, the Book, and the Owl
Chapter Notes

Screech owls are cute, google them, you won't regret it. Her name is pronounced Yoo-
noy-uh, if you're wondering.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jimin runs to his room, slamming the door behind him. He’s still clutching the imprinting book to
his heaving chest as he slides down the smooth surface of the wood, cheeks red, breeches soaked.

All he can hope for is that the guards didn’t pick up on his scent, he’s mortified enough as it is,
that’s the last thing he needs.

Jimin can’t think about what happened in Jeongguk’s room without his heart threatening to break
free of his ribcage, and his blush is so intense it’s uncomfortable, skin heated and tight. Why did he
invite the rogue to dinner? Why did he even think he could ever face him again after what
transpired between them?

He’s really done it, now. It’s not as if he can just pretend he doesn’t remember issuing the invite,
not only would it be rude, but also obvious and more than a bit pitiful.

Jimin forces himself up off of the ground and safely deposits the book on the chest next to his bed.
Peeling the trousers from his tacky legs he makes a face as the overwhelming smell of polianthes
and petrichor takes over the room, and underneath that, the underlying scent of rosemary and
cloves. As quick as he can, he sets about wiping his skin clean, using water from the basin bowl
and his sweet-smelling soaps to mask the evidence.

Jimin redresses, purposefully choosing thick trousers and switching out the heavy fur cloak for a
warm riding jacket, belting it at the waist and checking himself in the mirror. His hair is slightly
disheveled from Jeongguk running his fingers through it, so he takes his brush and smooths it into
submission until the strands lay the way he wants.
There’s the sensation of his stomach swooping with nerves, pulse thrumming in every point of his
body; wirsts, neck, thighs…

A deep shuddering breath echoes out in the quiet of the room as Jimin tries and fails to calm
himself. He can feel his omega pacing, snuffling in displeasure the longer they are away from
Jeongguk, and surprisingly, Jimin can’t help but share in the sentiment, an anxiousness gripping
both sides of his nature.

Quietly, he slips from his chambers, too embarrassed to look those who guard Jeongguk’s door in
the eye, afraid of what he’ll see, of what they likely suspect. Taking in another deep breath and
holding it, he enters the room once more, Jeongguk leaning against the hearth, heated gaze already
searing across Jimin’s skin.

He’s also removed his cloak since Jimin left, clothed in his simple black tunic and matching
trousers. The boots he wears are scuffed leather, a hand-me-down that Jimin took from his own
father’s wardrobe. His hair is still pinned back away from his face, falling in curls along his spine,
the dark hue nearly blending in seamlessly with the dyed fabric of the shirt.

He looks so beautiful it makes Jimin’s chest ache.

Shakily, he lets the breath he’d been holding go, and when he breathes in again, he's hit with the
nearly overpowering aroma of their combined scents that continues to linger in the air.

It's divine.

“Are you ready?”

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk replies honestly. “Am I?”

At Jimin’s raised brow, he elaborates.

“Is there anything I should know before we go?”

“It’s going to be awkward for you.”

Jeongguk snorts at that, shaking his head while his gaze refocuses back on the ever-changing
flames of the fire.

“I had already surmised as much.”

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“No, I want to,” he rushes to reassure, though that couldn’t appear farther from the truth, so Jimin
tries to prepare him as much as he can.

“The Great Hall is full during meals. Some families that live outside of the Lodge usually eat in
their own homes, but some travel here to eat communally. We will be sitting at what is known as
the high alpha’s table. It’s on a raised dais so everyone can see us—pretentious, I know—but it’s
meant to be a place of honor. You will be sitting to my right, the chair to the left of mine is meant
for my father.”

“You’re not sitting in his chair while you stand in for him?” Jeongguk asks, surprised, and Jimin
shakes his head.

“Still feels strange, so I just kept to my own. There will be others sitting with us. Namjoon, of
course, and I sometimes invite those that have reports to give or issues to discuss with me, and
Taehyung; my attendant, will be there as well.”

“You two are quite close, aren’t you?”

“We are. We grew up together. Most of us did,” he admits, a fond smile unable to be kept at bay
covering his lips.

Shaking his head, he continues.

“Do not be surprised if we are approached by members of the pack. Everyone will be curious
about you. Some might even be outright rude, or demand answers to questions. They’re still very
much on edge, and a lot of them fear the gates will be stormed by a pack of rogues in the middle of
the night.”

Jeongguk huffs, and Jimin nearly smiles again when he rolls his eyes at that, appearing far younger
than his years.

“You cannot blame them. It’s not as if I’ve been able to give them any answers on the matter, and
as such their fears have only increased.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to convince you that you will not be met with retaliation if you
just let me go. We are the people of the forest, and we just want to live in peace.”

Jimin’s body tenses, wishing more than anything that he could assure Jeongguk he believes him,
that he’ll let him go back home if he so desires, because there’s this part of him that’s so
consuming that merely wishes to see the alpha happy…
But he can’t.

Jimin forges ahead, instead, choosing not to acknowledge that statement.

“If you are asked a question you do not wish to answer, you can let me know, and I’ll find a way to
get rid of them.”

Jeongguk unfolds his body from the fireplace, steps careful and measured as he approaches.

“And how shall I let you know, then?”

“Subtly,” Jimin answers, tracking his progress as he gets closer.

The rogue hums, coming to a stop directly before him, seeming to scan Jimin’s appearance, eyes
soft, admiring. Then he turns, and does something Jimin did not anticipate.

He offers his arm.

“Shall we?”

“Are you sure,” Jimin asks again, can't help it, suddenly wanting to protect Jeongguk from the
ordeal he knows he’s about to go through. “I can have your food brought up like usual.”

Jeongguk gives him another look of affection and a small nod of his head.
“I’m sure.”

Jimin can’t help but smile as he takes his arm in hand, fingers gently squeezing once they exit the
room together. He probably should’ve informed Namjoon or Yoongi that he was letting Jeongguk
out, and it’s likely he’ll be met with another earful later.

But he can't find it in himself to mind.

They exit the corridor, and Jimin wisely avoids the wary gazes from the guards, the two of them
descending the stone steps carefully. The closer they get to the Great Hall and the growing noise,
the more tense they both become in equal measure.

“Relax,” Jimin whispers as they near the final staircase.

“You first.”

He can’t help but giggle, nearly collapsing against the alpha, his joy doubling when he sees him
give a genuine smile as well, their eyes finding each other and holding for a moment, the air
charged.

Once their feet hit the ground, Jimin directs them to the main set of doors that lead into the Great
Hall, the guards on either side moving to draw them open.

"If it helps," he whispers, leaning closer to the alpha to better be heard, "don't look at anyone. Just
keep your eyes straight ahead."
Jeongguk shifts, head turning to meet his gaze, Jimin's breath hitching when their noses nearly
brush, barely any space between them.

"Can I look at you?"

Heart stuttering, he loses himself to the rogue's intense stare, to the warmth of his body heat
pressed against his side, and the smell of rosemary and cloves surrounding him in such a
comforting way, that the only thing he can really compare it to is his nest.

A startling thought, to be sure.

Jimin doesn’t realize that the quiet that descends around them is unnatural, his gaze still caught in
Jeongguk’s, those irises dark like the hour just before dawn, and yet glimmering with light to
emulate the stars.

It isn’t until the lids around those same eyes tighten with a frown that Jimin remembers, a heavy
weight forming in the pit of his stomach when realization hits. He almost doesn’t want to look,
would prefer to keep his gaze focused solely on the alpha beside him, but he knows better.

Keeping his head held high, he turns back to face the room.

Every table is full tonight, and every single occupant is staring right at them, the quiet louder than
the crescendo of their voices could ever be. Jimin meets none of their pointed looks, choosing to
follow his own advice, and simply stays focused on their destination. Namjoon is already seated in
his usual spot at the high alpha’s table, next to him is Yoongi, and across from them is both
Taehyung and Seokjin, as well as Hoseok. His guard stares at him with both exasperation and
begrudging affection, while Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin appear curious, and Taehyung pleased.
Together, they climb the dais, Jeongguk holding him steady and then moving forward to pull out
what he correctly guesses is Jimin’s chair; since the high alpha’s is far more opulent than the
others, and Jimin’s is just to the right of it. Jeongguk helps him scoot the heavy wood back into
place and then takes the open seat to Jimin’s right.

There’s already plates set before them, and Jimin wastes no time filling his with bread from the
loaded basket to his left as well as rice. It’s still silent in the hall, but he continues to tactfully
ignore it, passing the bowl of rice to Jeongguk with a raised brow. He accepts it, a wide-eyed look
of dismay in his expression that speaks to his discomfort and nearly makes Jimin laugh in
commiseration.

Slowly, murmurs start up again, and from there, the volume of multiple conversations at once
increases, filling the hall all the way up to the echoing rafters of the vaulted ceiling.

“That went better than I expected,” Taehyung beams, leaning across the table in order to be heard.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Namjoon mutters, eyeing every single pack member, almost
daring them to try something.

“Gods, there’s a lot of them,” Jeongguk whispers, likely too quiet for anyone else but Jimin to
catch and it captures his full attention. He watches as the alpha’s gaze sweeps over everyone in the
hall, as if estimating their size. “And you say there are more who don’t even attend?”

“That’s correct.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, gaze dropping to the food on the table.

“We didn’t catch much today,” he admits, his eyes traveling back up and landing on a family of
five, the pups rowdy in their seats. “It won’t last.”
Jimin looks at them as well, that anxious feeling threatening to take over whenever he dwells on
their situation.

“We’ll keep looking. Keep trying,” he swears. “We still have livestock that can be rationed, and the
plains we can scout.”

Jeongguk hums, as if he wants to be encouraging, but likely knows the reality of what they face.

Jimin doesn’t want to think about it.

“What did you catch today,” he asks instead, picking at his bread with the need to keep his hands
busy. “I didn’t even think to ask.”

“Not much,” Jeongguk answers honestly. “Yoongi is good with traps and tracking. Got lucky with
a couple of rabbits and squirrels. We need to wait for a clear day. The deer will come out then.”

Jimin hums, distracted when the staff begin to file out of the kitchen, servers carrying large platters
filled with meat to be set on the tables. Hanyu; the omega who usually brings Jimin his meals and
tends to the head alpha’s table, approaches, visibly nervous, her nutmeg and creme scent souring.
She eyes Jeongguk with wide wary eyes, and her hands shake so much she nearly drops the plate.

“Here,” Jimin offers, holding his arms out to relieve her of it so she doesn’t have to get any closer.
Her scared features turning to Jimin then quickly back to Jeongguk; who is looking at her now
with a narrowed-eyed frown that has her skittering away.

“I think you scared her,” Jimin remarks while the alpha stares after the server's retreating back
before shrugging and turning away.
The rest of dinner is far more peaceful then Jimin expected it to be, but as soon as the dishes start
to be cleared away, the high alpha’s table is approached, but not by someone Jimin could have
predicted.

A pup Jimin recognizes clambers up onto the dais, no more than four summers, and after she
makes it onto the platform, she slips under the table and climbs right up into Jeongguk’s lap, the
alpha cleary taken aback by the turn of events as she settles herself and stares up at him
expectantly.

“Hello,” he murmurs, like he’s afraid if he speaks too loud he'll upset her.

Jimin watches the exchange quietly, wondering where her parents are as a soft emotion takes over,
a warmth filling him that he cannot explain at the sight of Jeongguk with a child.

“Hi,” she answers. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you?”

“Are you going to kill all of us?”

“Aecha,” Jimin scolds, and she looks slightly remorseful, but not by much.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Jeongguk promises, tilting his head in curiosity. “Who told you I
would?”

“Papa says it to mama sometimes.”

“I see,” he answers quietly, another deep furrow in his brow that makes Jimin want to rub it
smooth. “We fear what we don’t understand, and sometimes when we don’t have all the answers,
we come up with the worst possible outcomes, but it doesn’t mean they’re true.”

She’s too young to even begin to fathom what that means, latching on to the one thing she does
understand without acknowledging the majority of what the alpha has told her.

“Papa’s not scared of anything,” she proudly boasts, making Jimin giggle at the stubborn look on
her face.

“Are you sure?” Jeongguk asks with an exaggerated tone, clear disbelief laced in his voice.

“I’m sure! He’s brave.”

“Even the bravest wolves can be scared of something.”

Another member of the pack approaches, the lids of their eyes open far enough that the stark whites
of them are prevalent, the man shaking the same way Hanyu had been. Jimin recognizes the alpha
as Sonwu, the girl’s father.

“See,” Jeongguk whispers to himself, and Jimin turns back to note the fear in Sonwu’s eyes.

“M-My lord,” he stutters, bowing to Jimin hastily, though his gaze never once leaves Aecha’s
small figure.

Jeongguk leans forward, whispering something in the girl’s ear, and a second later she climbs off
of his lap and runs into her father’s trembling arms, the alpha holding her tightly to his chest,
adopting a clear protective stance.

“I’m sorry,” he rushes, stumbling over his own words. “I should have been watching her more
closely.”

Jimin goes to answer, but Jeongguk beats him to it.

“No harm done,” he assures. “She’s very sweet, and thinks very highly of you.”

Sonwu’s eyes fly from Jeongguk to Jimin, before he bows deeply and climbs off the dais, refusing
to let Aecha go even as she loudly protests.

They watch them leave, and Jimin feels unease in his mind, his eyes cataloging the way
Jeongguk’s expression shifts minutely, from morose to sadness to nothing.

“They think me a monster.”

Jimin shakes his head, and beneath the table, his hand grips Jeongguk’s thigh, gaining his
attention.

“You said so yourself people fear what they do not understand. That can change, if you want it to.
You can show them who you truly are.”

Jeongguk hums in a non-committal answer, though his doe-eyes soften as he studies Jimin, the
distance between them seeming to shrink while they lean into each other, Jimin’s grip sliding up
along Jeongguk’s leg, the alpha’s breath becoming labored—
Jimin feels a boot come into contact with his shin, making him hiss in pain, eyes searching until
they land on Taehyung. The omega gives him a pointed stare, one that Jimin understands to mean
‘what are you doing,’ and causes a flush to adorn his cheeks.

He has a tendency of forgetting where he is when Jeongguk’s involved.

Once the rest of the dishes are cleared away, a few brave wolves approach their table, sharp gazes
intent on Jeongguk, and the alpha tenses once again. Namjoon remains ready, as does Yoongi, the
two moving to stand and flank both Jimin and Jeongguk’s sides, hands clasped behind their backs
and prepared to turn inhospitable should it be required.

The wolves approach as if only wishing to speak to Jimin, inquiring about his father, the illness—
which he directs their questions to Hoseok if that is the case—or food. But it becomes abundantly
clear that they merely wish to get a better look at the captured rogue, and soon their questions turn
to him.

“What is your name?”

"What is the collar for?"

"Does it keep you from massacring us?"

“How long have your people lived in the forest?”

“How many of you are there?”

“Are you peaceful?”

“Are you feral?”

Jeongguk answers what he can, even the ridiculous questions that Jimin wants to wave off. But
sometimes, the alpha’s own hand will reach under the table to squeeze Jimin’s upper thigh in a
signal of subtlety, and Jimin will send those wolves and their questions on there way with an
excuse.

He tires of it faster than Jeongguk does, the overprotectiveness that takes him completely by
surprise flaring up, and he puts an end to the impromptu line of questioning, revealing that it was
Jeongguk who helped provide the pack with tonight’s dinner after a long day of hunting, and
excuses them both by citing exhaustion.

Namjoon escorts them back to Jeongguk’s room, while Yoongi and Taehyung remain to field off
any lingerers still demanding answers. The Captain goes as far as the door, revealing his plan to
return to the Great Hall in the event that Yoongi needs any help, leaving them to enter the alpha’s
room alone after Jimin bids him goodnight.

Jeongguk immediately goes to the wooden house atop it’s shelf, bringing it down onto a side table
with a careful grip. Then he unfolds a napkin he removes from his pocket, and inside looks to be
pieces of meat he stowed away, which he leaves near the back of the house where the opening is.
After, Jimin watches as he retrieves water from the pitcher next to the basin and fills a small saucer
up to the brim, placing it next to the meat. And finally, he unlatches the back of the toy house,
leaving it open and the food within reach.

Once finished, Jeongguk returns to Jimin, not wanting to hover too closely and put the owl off of
the food from his presence.

“You took on a lot today when you didn’t have to. I want to thank you for that,” Jimin murmurs
quietly, his gaze periodically drifting to see if he can catch snow-white feathers.
“It wasn’t so bad,” Jeongguk assures, a small shrug to his shoulders and a lilt to his lips that makes
him look boyish.

He’s being generous, having been up and about since dawn, spending most of the day outside in
the harsh conditions of the unpredictable weather, finding the owl and seeing what's been done to
the forest…

And then what happened after, between them—

Only to end the day by being scrutinized and suffering demeaning questions.

Jimin already regrets asking him to attend—

“I can hear you thinking,” the alpha claims, clicking his tongue until Jimin’s frown turns into a
gentle smile. “I said it was fine, pup. Honest.”

“I don’t like the way they spoke to you.”

“I know. You were more upset about it than I was.”

“Couldn’t help it,” Jimin mutters petulantly, watching as an expression full of genuine affection
crosses Jeongguk’s face, softening his features further.

Feeling brave, Jimin slowly reaches out, giving the alpha ample time to pull away if he so desires,
but Jeongguk remains, and Jimin’s hand glides over warm skin, cupping his cheek in the palm of
his hand, fingers framing his ear while he tucks loose strands of black hair just behind it. He
shivers when the rogue nuzzles into his touch, inhaling deeply from his wrist and holding his arm
in a gentle grip, keeping them together.

They stay like that for a while, the moment interrupted by the sound of water sloshing around, both
of their eyes widening as they realize what it is.

The owl is drinking.

Jimin can just see a small fluff of white over Jeongguk’s shoulder, and he feels such relief he
nearly sags into the alpha, his strong arms easily holding him up.

Neither one of them dares to move, not wanting to disturb her as she eats and drinks, ruffling her
feathers with a soft trill before climbing back into her makeshift home.

Jeongguk sighs, curling in on himself while he relaxes, and Jimin can’t help but nuzzle
affectionately at his chin, his omega wanting to offer comfort. This closeness they've established
after addressing their connection feels so natural, as if they've been acting on the pull they've felt
all along, and not just recently.

Jimin both hates and loves that he's already used to it. That he craves it.

“You should sleep. It’s been a long day for you.”

Jeongguk hums in agreement, though pulls him closer, putting off the moment when he’ll have to
depart as long as he can. His nose sweeps over Jimin’s temples, his hairline, and he inhales deeply,
arms wrapping tighter around him.

They stand there in silence and sway, rocking back and forth until Jimin feels nearly lulled from it,
a heaviness pulling at his tired eyes.

“Sleep,” he encourages Jeongguk again, hating it even as he forces himself to let the alpha go; who
nods in reluctant agreement.

“Let me remove this before I go,” Jimin whispers, feeling that familiar tingling sensation the metal
of the collar causes when it makes contact with his skin.

The wolf lifts his midnight-black hair out of the way, and Jimin circles around behind him, pulling
the key free from his tunic and carefully unlocks it, Jeongguk letting out a relieved moan once it’s
off of him.

Jimin wraps it up carefully in the hem of his riding jacket and comes back around to face him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alpha,” he whispers, knowing what addressing him in such a manner does
to him, but still giddy to witness it.

Jeongguk’s eyes appear far more alert, desire sparkling in them, so clearly affected every time
Jimin uses the word.

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” he murmurs in response, kindling that familiar heat inside of Jimin that
lingers and burns even as he leaves.

He makes his way back to his room in almost a daze, the events of the day feeling more like a
fever dream than reality. Too much happened, too many things to process and sort through.

The book on imprinting is one of the first things he takes in as he enters his room, it’s faded letters
calling to him, his curiosity burning.
Both his bath and Jeongguk’s will be brought up soon, but Jimin’s eyes continuously slide over to
the book on the chest next to his bed in consideration. If he starts now, it’s likely he won’t put it
down until he’s finished, already going off of little to no sleep, so with a patience he does not really
possess, he forces himself to wait.

________________

Jimin awakes in a cold sweat, another nightmare sinking its teeth into him and refusing to release
its grip. He shakes in the furs he’s wrapped up in, simultaneously too hot and too cold as he relives
the image of the big black wolf falling down dead in a river of crimson while the echo of screams
ring out.

Tears spring to his eyes, and Jimin has to remind himself that it was just another nightmare, and to
breathe, in through his nose, out through his mouth, just like his mother used to instruct him to do
when he was a boy and the dreams were just as frequent as they are now.

Turning his head, Jimin sees the moon still high in her sky, casting shadows from the trees of
Soksagim. It’s still late, but he doesn’t want to risk going back to sleep. Doesn’t want to see that
magnificent creature be felled by an invisible foe.

Slipping the covers back, he pulls on his robe and dons his slippers, lighting the candles near his
bed and stoking the fire back to life before climbing beneath the furs once more, the book on
imprinting held in his hands. He’s careful with the worn leather, not wanting to damage the old
binding as he flips to the start.

The light is just bright enough to make out the words without straining his eyes, and so, Jimin
begins to read.

________________
Taehyung finds him in the same position hours later, when the sun is high and bright despite the
fog. His fingers hurt, white-knuckled in their grip as he reads, going over passages more than once,
and reciting them until the words burn behind his eyes and are whispered in his ears. He’s read the
book in its entirety nearly twice, now, but even so he wants to read it again. Won’t be satisfied until
he’s memorized every nuance—

“What are you doing?” Taehyung demands, clearly displeased, and Jimin already knows he must
look a sight if the other omega is wearing that frown.

“M’reading,” he mumbles, suddenly excited despite his friend’s disappointment. “I have much to
tell you.”

“Jimin, look at you! You’re so exhausted, you’re shaking.”

“Bad dreams,” he whispers, terrified to close his eyes, and his heart breaks a little at the look of
worry the other wears.

“You can’t go on like this. Your body can only take so much,” he warns, climbing onto the bed
next to Jimin. “I would’ve made you that tea again if you asked. Would’ve slept beside you if it
helps.”

“I can’t rely on you for everything, it’s not fair to you.”

“You get that out of your head, right now. I would gladly do it for the rest of our days if it meant
you got a decent night’s sleep, understood?”

Jimin hesitates but eventually gives in, leaning back against his friend as he’s pulled into his arms.
“Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?”

“I’ve been reading up on imprinting. Have you heard of it?”

“Vaguely,” Taehyung admits, running an absent hand through Jimin’s unkempt hair.

“It’s based on the idea that our wolves are kind of…split into two, almost. That for every omega,
there is an alpha. Someone specifically made to complete us.”

“Mmm. I don’t feel incomplete now,” he murmurs, making Jimin’s lids flutter with his unhurried
motions of his fingers, pride stemming from his outlook.

“I don’t know if that’s the right word, then. It’s like…when you meet this other half, you realize
how unsatisfying everything was up until then, how you were just going through life but not really
living it. Does that make sense?”

A crease takes over Taehyung’s brow, and Jimin can’t help but think he looks uncomfortable with
the idea.

“So how do you find this other half?” he wonders.

“That’s the thing! The book says it’s triggered the closer you are to your wolf.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Heat, rut, or physical transformation. It’s that side of us that recognizes our match.”

It takes a moment, but Jimin watches with a pleased smile as Taehyung’s eyes widen.

“You said Jeongguk was a wolf fresh off rut when you first saw him.”

“And Yoongi went into rut that day the two of you lost control of yourselves.”

It’s quiet as the other omega seems to take that in, eyes flitting from left to right, mouth slightly
parted.

“W-What else does the book say?”

“It says that while in this state; where one or both parties are closest to their wolves, we imprint.
It’s like a bond, or a connection that’ll always be there, like a longing until we solidify it.”

“Solidify it?”

“Mate. Claim each other. Apparently after doing so, the bond strengthens into something the likes
of which I’ve never heard before. But it talks about shared emotions, a sort of inner presence of
your other half that goes beyond the physical. It even says that if something were to happen to one
of you, the other would likely feel it, and if one were to die, the other would soon follow.”

“Sounds a bit fanciful, like those romance novels we used to read.”

“It does, but it’s also made the most sense to me since what happened in Soksagim. It has an
answer for every question I’ve had.”

“Does it say what happens if you don’t mate your… match?”

“It says that feeling never goes away and only gets worse. The longing, the incompleteness. It just
gets bigger and bigger until you’re miserable. You can’t mate anyone else, your wolf wont claim
them. Wont accept them. You’re just...stuck.”

They’re still for a moment, the quiet stretching as they both process that, Taehyung for the first
time, and Jimin for the third since reading it from the old book.

“So…according to this…we’re fucked?”

Jimin smacks the omega’s arm, unable to help the tired; almost delirious, laugh that escapes him.

“If this is true, then yeah, I think we are.”

He turns, wanting to take in Taehyung’s expression, needing to know where his head is at, and
what he sees saddens him.

“Still no luck with Yoongi?”

The other omega shrugs.

“I’m sure he still thinks he took advantage of me. That what happened between us was a mistake.”
“You should talk to him,” Jimin suggests, turning in the omega’s arms. “I see the way he
constantly stares at you when he thinks you’re not looking. How sad he gets. Maybe you could
read this and then give it to him. Maybe it would help?”

Taehyung sighs, a hand carding through his hair in what Jimin considers to be weary exhaustion.

“I’m still not used to this whole idea of having a destined mate,” he admits. “It’s so foreign to me.”

“That I can understand. According to this, if I don’t mate Jeongguk I’ll be miserable.”

“You were going to be miserable anyway, whether you came upon this realization or not.”

Jimin shrugs.

“True.”

“Do you think it would be worse if we changed around them?” Taehyung wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“It sounded to me like the book claims the closer we are to our wolf, the more affected we are.
Only Jeongguk was transformed, and fresh off rut when your connection was established, but you
weren’t. And in my case, Yoongi was the only one in pre-rut. Maybe it would be worse for us if we
were in the same situation.”
“Maybe,” Jimin acknowledges, while silently hoping that not to be the case. He’s already
overwhelmed with his current feelings, he can’t imagine what it would be like if they were
suddenly more intense. He makes to throw the covers off, as if to stand, determined. “I could
always go and test that out.”

But Taehyung pulls him back down with a firm shake of his head.

“The only place you’re going is to sleep. I’ll make you some more tea.”

Jimin grumbles, wanting nothing more than to argue, but he’s bone tired and uncoordinated,
sluggish from lack of sleep in the most obvious of ways. He’s of no use to anyone like this.

Despite the exhaustion, he stays awake the entire time Taehyung is gone, down in the kitchens to
make Jimin his tea. Thoughts on the book plague him and the reality it claims his situation to be. If
true, Jimin can mate no one else but Jeongguk, and the likelihood of his pack accepting such a
union by citing an old book that details a practice that is no longer believed in is slim to none.

Still, it's a relief in its own way, the fact that he no longer has to consider mating another on the
basis that it’s for the good of his people, which is a huge weight lifted from his shoulders.

If what the book claims is true, that is, and if Jeongguk believes it. After all, it was him who
encouraged Jimin to read the old book after doing so himself. Said some things might become
more clear...

Taehyung comes back minutes later, a mug cradled carefully in his hands as he measures each
step.

“Wait for it to cool,” he warns, setting it down on the bedside table.

“Are you okay,” Jimin wonders, realizing that this information has as much of an effect on Tae as it
does him, and he wants to make sure he's not drowning in it.

The other omega shrugs, appearing pensive.

“I’d like to read the book further. It won’t solve all my problems, but the more I know, the better
prepared I’ll be.”

“Go ahead. You can read it while I sleep. Maybe give it to Yoongi when you’re done with it.”

“We’ll see,” He mutters, making Jimin huff in amusement.

When the tea finally cools enough to be tolerable, Jimin drinks it all down again, settling back
against the cushions and furs, warm and curled up next to Taehyung, who props himself up against
the headboard, imprinting book in hand.

Jimin lets the sounds of the old, crinkling bound parchment lull him, eyes heavy as they flutter.

He falls asleep not long after, a dark dreamless void enveloping him.

________________

The owl survives the night, and more so than that, she appears to have gotten used to Jeongguk’s
presence, tolerating his proximity while he feeds her pieces of meat off of his own plate. When
Jimin enters his room, he’s sliding the saucer full of water closer to her tiny form, movements slow
and careful.
Nearly every finger is bandaged.

Jimin can’t help but quietly laugh, deliberately keeping his tone gentle when he speaks so as not to
spook her.

“You look as if you’ve been through an ordeal.”

“She’s a vicious little thing,” Jeongguk complains, moving his hand back when a small beak
makes to snap at it. “I think if I’m able to hunt again I’ll try and bring back some fresh kills for her.
She’d like that better than this,” he explains, motioning towards the small pieces of meat, the little
owl snapping at him again when he gets too close.

Jimin giggles.

“She seems very lively for what she’s been through.”

“It’s a good sign,” Jeongguk agrees, turning his attention away from the white ball of fluff, the
strength of his gaze catching Jimin by surprise as it’s oft to do.

“I thought you would ask me to join you in the Great Hall again for a meal,” he admits, and Jimin’s
hands tug at his tunic, pulling at the pale fabric.

“I was going to, but I—I wasn’t able to get much sleep last night.”

“I know. I could hear you,” he reveals, motioning towards the walls in explanation. “Another
nightmare?”
Slowly, Jimin nods.

“Still can’t remember them?”

His body tenses at the innocent question, the inhale he tries to take in loud and shuddering when he
answers honestly.

“I remember them.”

Jeongguk’s expression doesn’t change with that revealed truth, his eyes seeming to discover every
secret Jimin has ever tried to keep hidden.

“I know,” he says again, though nothing further, no pressing for answers or attempts to make Jimin
talk about it, and he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful that he doesn’t feel capable of sharing
that part of himself.

Not yet, anyways.

“I read the book. The imprinting book,” he elaborates unnecessarily, watching as one of the alpha’s
brows flies towards his hairline.

“And?” he wonders, though he keeps his voice unassuming, as if attempting to put on an air of
nonchalance that Jimin sees right through in turn.

He’s nervous. It’s easy for him to tell, and Jimin questions if it’s because he’s good at reading him
or if it has something to do with the connection the book spoke of.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it? A lot of what was written just seemed to clarify or explain what’s been
happening between you and I.”

“It made sense to me as well,” the alpha softly admits, the sound of the owl trilling behind him as
she ruffles her feathers distracting him momentarily.

“The only thing to decide now is what we are to do about it.”

“Do you want me?”

The bluntness of his words startle Jimin, and he doesn’t know how to answer at first, mouth
opening and closing as he struggles, but Jeongguk persists.

“Despite your obligations, and everything you feel you must do in your position. Despite that we
essentially know nothing of each other, and come from different worlds…do you want me?”

Jimin doesn’t hesitate this time.

“Yes.”

A slow smile transforms Jeongguk’s features, and in that moment Jimin is sure he has never
looked more radiant, more beautiful.

He’s transfixed.
“My answer is the same,” the alpha reveals.

Jimin takes in another labored breath, his honesty and Jeongguk’s both making him feel suddenly
weightless, but he has to ask.

“Even knowing that I cannot leave? That I must remain here?”

“Even still,” Jeongguk swears, and Jimin feels such startling relief his eyes nearly swim in it.

“Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know,” the rogue admits, “but wherever it is, I know that I want to be with you.”

A wet noise escapes passed Jimin’s lips, unable to help the emotions building up inside him. He
wants that too, more than anything.

He just doesn’t know if he’s allowed to have it.

________________

Jeongguk names the owl Eunoia, whispering it to her as he continues to see to her care. Jimin
steadily witnesses the disappearance of bandages from around his long fingers, the creature no
longer snapping at him, and even seeming to welcome his advances, cooing pleasantly whenever
he sets out her food.
Within a week’s time Lake Geoul is frozen through, the fisherman bringing their boats in just
before the ice claims it completely. Jimin sees Seokjin more frequently now, the alpha switching
off shifts from the kitchen to the forge, while also making time to take Yoongi and Jeongguk
scouting along the forest treeline.

Jeongguk continues to accompany Jimin to meals in the Great Hall, the countless sets of eyes he
must endure seeming to no longer make him uncomfortable. Not all are wary of the rogue, some
more curious than cautious. They approach Jimin’s table after every meal to pose their questions,
an omega by the name of Naeri seems to be particularly taken with him, making Jimin’s shoulders
tense every time she invites herself up in the guise of assuaging her “worries.”

“Do you and your pack live in great buildings, such as ours?” she wonders, long lashes fluttering
while her eyes take in Jeongguk’s seated figure, trailing over the contours of his face and the
strength of his body as she let's her own sickly sweet scent drift out in droves.

Jimin’s ears are turning red, and he can’t help but stab at his plate, aggression escaping in what he
knows to be a childish manner over the clear way in which she attempts to snare Jeongguk’s favor.

“We do not,” the alpha admits. “Most of us live in small cabins. Nothing so—” he looks around
“—extravagant.”

“That sounds amazing,” she claims dreamily, cupping her chin in her palm, and Jimin wonders
what’s so amazing about it.

She sounds desperate, and that nearly has him snorting rudely.

Jeongguk’s hand on his thigh beneath the table is what stops him, those long nimble fingers
digging into the meat of his skin and muscle in order to give it a squeeze. It sends tingles across his
nerves and has Jimin’s groin aching, a heat burning inside that makes him tremble. His legs snap
shut, nearly trapping Jeongguk’s hand between them, those same dexterous fingers massaging
gentle circles until he relaxes and they fall open once more.
The hand stays there as the two continue to converse, Jeongguk polite yet distant, while Naeri
attempts to show her tenuous interest and fails, overly obvious, in Jimin's opinion. That hand starts
sliding maddeningly upward, where his arousal is beginning to become obvious, petrichor and
polianthes thickening in a giveaway as to how much the alpha affects him. Then it slowly slides
back down towards his knee, making Jimin want to whine before the process repeats all over
again.

Sometimes, those fingers trace along the inseam of his trousers and Jimin’s eyes nearly roll up
when they do, teeth sinking into his quivering bottom lip to keep himself quiet.

“Are you alright, my lord?” Jeongguk asks after Jimin releases the tiniest of whimpers, addressing
him by his title in the presence of others, which had been a shock at first to some of the pack,
surprised by the respect and deference he showed.

“M’fine,” he promises, waving away their attention, wanting nothing more than to go back to
being relatively ignored, poking at his food and silently enjoying the feel of the alpha’s hand on his
overheated body.

But Jeongguk presses still, grip tightening until he gives another cut off whine.

“Are you sure? You don’t look well. I could escort you to your room, if you’d like.”

Naeri looks more than disappointed by the alpha’s offer, and that has Jimin feeling oddly smug, no
matter how immature it may be.

“If you don’t mind,” Jimin agrees, playing it up, rendered breathless by the smile Jeongguk
discretely sends his way, full of mischief when he squeezes Jimin’s inner thigh once more, nearly
causing him to squeal.

They excuse themselves and travel back up the stairs at a slightly hurried pace when Jeongguk
makes an observation.

“You don’t care for her.”

“She has nothing to do with it,” Jimin huffs, sinking his own fingers into Jeongguk’s forearm,
comforted by his proximity.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t like her blatant interest in you. Nor do I like her using that interest as a guise to gain
answers to her questions.”

Jeongguk leans in closer, though his steps are careful as they continue their ascent.

“I could show her where my affections lie, if you wish,” he whispers into Jimin’s ear, making his
shoulders rise up as goosebumps cover his skin, shivers dancing along the surface, like little
flashes of illuminating lightning.

“Do you like that idea, sweetheart?”

“Almost too much,” he admits, barely above a whisper, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing, clearly pleased.

They return to their familiar guarded corridor, the alpha leading Jimin past the door to his
chambers and continuing on to his own room instead, the soldiers that flank the entrance not so
much as blinking.
“I wanted to show you,” he says while escorting him inside and softly closing the door behind
them. “Look.”

He motions with his chin and Jimin’s eyes glance in that direction, taking in the sight of Eunoia
perched along the back of one of the armchairs, wing stretched as she cleans it, and Jimin notices
that it’s her injured one, currently devoid of any bandages.

“Is she…”

“She’s fully healed. Been flying around the room all day and driving me crazy,” he chuckles,
though his eyes are fond as he stares at the tiny thing.

“I’m glad,” Jimin whispers sincerely, watching as Jeongguk approaches her slowly.

“Watch,” he whispers, holding out an arm, and Jimin observes in amazement as Eunoia spreads her
wings, takes flight and glides onto it, settling before going back to grooming herself while perched
on his sleeve, Jeongguk carefully coming back to stand before Jimin.

“This morning she flew onto my shoulder, nearly scared me half to death, but she just burrowed
into my hair and fell asleep against my neck.”

Jimin’s smile widens at the image that puts in his head, wishing he could’ve witnessed such a sight
while staring softly at the tiny screech owl.

“Did you want to pet her?”

“Will she bite me?”

“It’s very likely she will.”

Jimin giggles again quietly, reaching out a tentative hand. Eunoia is still busy with her feathers, and
Jimin’s eyes widen as he trails two fingers down the length of her spine, marveling at how soft she
is.

He watches her raise her head at the sensation, curious, then nearly cries out in surprise when she
latches onto his hand.

“Eunoia,” Jeongguk quietly chastises, distracting her with his own fingers while he tickles under
her chin in order to get her to release Jimin.

There’s a mark when she does, but the skin isn’t broken and it hardly hurts.

“She’s gotten better about that,” Jeongguk murmurs to himself, gently cradling Jimin’s hand in his
free one in order to inspect the area, the care and concern in his gaze taking Jimin’s breath away,
even more so when the alpha’s eyes meet his.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he answers, voice thick and off-sounding, Jeongguk gifting him with a knowing smile.

“I plan to set her free soon.”

That revelation has Jimin feeling equal parts happy and sad, the small creature making a place for
herself in his heart, and he knows she’s managed to accomplish the same with Jeongguk.
“She has her strength back, and her wing no longer pains her. When the weather is clear I wish to
take her back near the treeline and release her.”

“Of course,” Jimin agrees, watching the way she tucks her wing back in, ruffling herself until she’s
fluffier than usual, big reddish-pink eyes slipping closed. “Let me know and I’ll arrange it.”

They stay like that for some time, the warmth from the fire blanketing the room in a comfortable
atmosphere, the two of them watching the snowy-white owl slumber with matching bittersweet
expressions.

________________

It snows horribly the next day, but the day after that is clear, the sky unobstructed. Jimin collects
Jeongguk just as the sun begins to sink beyond the trees, Eunoia secured away in her wooden
house, little nervous hoots leaving her now and then.

Namjoon and Yoongi escort them past the Great Hall and down the steps to the outer courtyard,
along the path, and towards the northern gates.

The moon is bright and glints off of the blanket of fresh snow, Jimin squinting as he holds up a
closed fist to the gateman, the heavy door slowly swinging open for them. The lake is empty as
they hug its shoreline while they travel, the water frozen silent and still. Soksagim is fast
approaching, the treeline dark and thick.

They’re close enough to its border when Jeongguk stops, a heavy breath escaping past his lips in a
puff of air while he carefully unlocks the tiny wooden house. Eunoia’s big round eyes blink in
intrigue, immediately hopping out and onto Jeongguk’s arm as she’s gotten used to doing.
Jimin takes the wooden house from his hand, wanting him to be able to give a proper goodbye.
With the tip of one gloved finger, the alpha scratches between her eyes, the owl’s lids closing as
she actually nudges into the touch, though she does give the finger a playful nip eventually.

“Off you go, Eunoia.”

He gives her one last look that nearly breaks Jimin’s heart, and then thrusts his arm up into the air,
the tiny albino screech owl taking flight towards the trees. They watch until they can see her no
longer, and then slowly turn back to the village.

________________

Jimin awakes in the middle of the night, though for the first time in a long while, not from a
nightmare. There’s a persistent noise pulling him from a fitful sleep, an annoyance that manages to
pierce through his dreams. He didn’t drink any tea this time before bed, not wanting to become
dependent on such things, and as such is able to regain conciousness quickly.

It’s a ‘tap, tap, tapping,’ sound, akin to a small pebble on glass. Half-asleep, vision blurry, he
stumbles towards the windows, stomach swooping at the thought of Jeongguk trying to steal into
his room again.

But it isn’t Jeongguk.

As quick as he can, Jimin unlatches the window, throwing it open and holding out his hands
invitingly.

“Come on.”
Eunoia hops onto the ledge and then up onto his arm, slowly inching towards his shoulder and the
warmth of his neck. Jimin winces from the sharpness of her talons, as well as the tepidness of her
feathers as he closes the window again, and though he knows it’s indecent, he goes out of his room
in just his silk nightclothes, not wanting to disturb her by throwing on a robe.

The guards are clearly surprised to see him during the late hour and in his state of undress, but once
they notice the owl, they quickly open the door for him, closing it softly behind.

It’s dim in Jeongguk’s room, the only light coming from the dying fire in the hearth, but Jimin’s
eyes adjust quickly, making out the figure slowly rising from the bed.

“Jimin?” Jeongguk’s tired but concerned voice reaches him, approaching slowly with unfocused
eyes.

He takes a moment to admire the alpha, curly hair disheveled and falling freely around his face,
tunic unbuttoned and slightly hanging off of his frame, trousers unlaced and loose around his
waist.

He looks soft when he’s tired. Warm...

Beautiful.

"Are you alright?"

“I’m fine," he quickly assures. "Sorry to wake you, it’s just that—”

Eunoia makes her presence known then, clicking her beak and trilling as she comes out from
behind Jimin’s hair, jumping off of his shoulder and gliding towards Jeongguk’s, where she
happily settles.

Jeongguk himself appears at a loss, clearly unable to believe what he’s seeing.

“How—”

“Woke up to her tapping on my window. I think she thought it led to your room.”

Jimin has no answers as to why she came back, except maybe, after losing her home, she claimed
another.

________________

Jeongguk tries to set her free two more times, and each time, Jimin wakes up to tapping on his
window.

He sits in one of the matching armchairs across from Jeongguk in the alpha’s room after once again
returning her to him, eyes intent on his slumped form as the rogue gazes pensively into the fire.

“You seem troubled,” Jimin murmurs, his omega restless at the thought of the alpha being
distressed.

Jeongguk hums, gaze remaining on the dancing flames.

 “She’s free but she chooses to keep coming back,” he softly whispers, clearly perplexed in the most
endearing way, that Jimin can’t help but cup his own chin in the palm of his hand and smile.

“It’s because she cares for you. You’re the reason she wants to be here.”

“A whole forest calling her back, and she chooses to give it up and tie herself to this place in order
to be near someone she cares for.”

Jimin quickly realizes they aren't strictly speaking about Eunoia anymore, his eyes widening with
the alpha’s next words.

“I suppose in that sense, we are the same.”

Jeongguk looks away from the hearth, and when his eyes meet Jimin’s, a quiet understanding is
shared between them:

I choose you.

Chapter End Notes

Jeongguk is Eunoia, Eunoia is Jeongguk.

Thoughts?
 The Mothers
Chapter Notes

Sorry for the delay, if you didn't already know, I'm moving, so there might be a longer
wait between chapters.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The feeling is indescribable to Jimin, witnessing Jeongguk climb off of the dais of his own volition
and approach members of the pack that he’s become familiar with, comfortable in their presence
and establishing an easy rapport. He speaks to Hana first, and her little pup Jaein, kneeling down so
that the excited boy can get a better look at Eunoia—who has once again burrowed against his neck
and hidden herself in his hair.

She’s far more camouflaged when she does the same to Jimin, his slivery-white strands nearly
making her invisible; save for her two large, red eyes, but she prefers Jeongguk. He’s warmer, and
their bond is without compare.

She isn’t fond of the collar though, and can often be seen unleashing her displeasure on it, nipping
at the metal with her beak.

Jeongguk speaks to a handful of wolves, his features clear with genuine concern while he asks after
them, laughs with them. They’re a small but close-knit group he’s grown to like—mostly
consisting of mated omegas with young pups of their own—and who in turn enjoy his company as
well, treating him like an equal rather than an outsider.

It makes Jimin’s heart race with unbridled joy.

“He’s assimilating well,” Namjoon observes from the chair across the table, twisted around to get a
better look over his shoulder at the other alpha. “I’m glad.”
“Don’t you find it ironic?”

“Find what ironic?” he wonders, turning back to him.

Jimin’s eyes remain on Jeongguk when he answers.

“All those tales about getting eaten or worse by rogues in the forest. They were used to ward pups
away from Soksagim, spread by mothers to keep their children safe. And yet it’s those same
mothers that adore him. Their made-up monster from the woods,” he finishes, smiling softly, and
even Namjoon chuckles.

Jimin glances up when Hanyu approaches the table, eyeing his plate in concern.

“All finished my lord?”

He no longer feels hungry looking down at the half-eaten meal, but there is guilt at the prospect of
it going to waste, especially with their quickly dwindling supplies. He won’t force himself to eat,
though, stomach twisting with nausea at the very idea.

“I am,” he sighs. “I'll give it to someone else who didn't get enough.”

“You need to eat, my lord,” Namjoon lightly scolds, formal in present company, his own gaze
taking in how little Jimin partook of the meal.

Before he can answer, Hanyu surprises him by speaking up as well.

“He’s right. We need you. You must conserve your strength.”

She seems to visibly regret it as soon as the words are out, shocked by the bold suggestion, as none
of the staff would ever dare to speak to his father in such a manner, and perhaps that is why Jimin
is so touched by it.

His stomach doesn’t share the sentiment, however, continuing to clench in discomfort.

“I will,” he promises, wanting to soothe the other omega. “I just have no appetite right now.”

"Allow me to take it, then. I'll find someone to give it to."

Jimin passes the plate to her with a small 'thank you' that is filled with his gratitude, to which
Hanyu bows her head, disquiet flashing over her features that has Jimin feeling terrible to be the
cause of, her nutmeg and creme scent souring with her worry.

But that is a problem for another time.

Instead, he turns back to watch Jeongguk, who has amassed a small gathering around him, his
features warm and open, both him and Eunoia becoming an unknowing source of fascination.

The wolf of the woods and his albino screech owl.

Jimin revisits his earlier thoughts regarding the mothers who initially spread those rumors and
tales, whispering about feral wolves lying in wait in the forest, ready for unsuspecting victims. And
yet they took to Jeongguk faster than anyone, genuinely seeming to adore him. It's not just them,
either. Jeongguk himself seems to gravitate towards the mothers in turn, preferring their company
to that of other alphas, or even betas.

Jimin can’t help himself, he thinks it’s endearing, and watching Jeongguk with pups stirs raw
emotion within him, making his heart feel full. There’s an awkwardness to the alpha at times, but
he’s so patient and sweet that Jimin finds his smile growing steadily wider, giggling softly while he
observes.

“You lack subtlety,” Namjoon grins, and Jimin knows it to be true.

But he also knows that; despite his misgivings, Jeongguk has alluded to his willingness to stay in
the village, all for the sake of being with him. How could he hide his feelings in the wake of such a
revelation, when he’s been given such a gift?

“Can’t help it,” he mumbles, never once looking away.

As he continues to watch, a frown removes the easy happiness he's settled into, Eunoia once again
attempting to systematically attack the metal that adorns Jeongguk's neck, even as he laughs and
tries to calm her.

“I don’t wish to use the collar anymore.”

Namjoon lets go of a drawn-out sigh, though he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by the
declaration.

“I thought you would say as much soon.”

“He’s more than proven himself. He hunts with Yoongi and Seokjin nearly everyday, and everyday
he returns with food for us. If he was going to escape he would’ve found a way by now, and I know
he won’t make the attempt. The collar is unnecessary, invasive, and it continues to mark him as an
outsider and potential threat. I want it gone.”

“He might have to deal with an escort, then.”

Jimin finally turns towards his friend, brow raised, and watches in satisfaction as the alpha’s
shoulders shrug when he yields.

“It’s your decision, but if he does escape, I refuse to take responsibility,” he threatens good-
naturedly.

“You won’t have to,” Jimin swears, eyes sliding back to take in Jeongguk’s radiant smile. “He’s
staying by my side.”

________________

“Is she sleeping?” Jeongguk asks once they’re safely back inside the comfort of his room, the fire
roaring and crackling in the hearth.

A smile graces Jimin’s lips when he carefully pulls back the curtain of his curly midnight-black
hair in order to spot the tiny ball of white feathers. Eunoia has her eyes closed, half of her face
nuzzled into the skin of Jeongguk’s neck.

“She is,” he quietly confirms, tucking two fingers together and stroking them slolwy down her
front.
She shifts at the disturbance, her bright red eyes blinking open, and immediately latches onto
Jimin’s finger, though it no longer stings, resembling more of an affectionate gesture.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he coos, smile spreading when she cocks her head at him in interest.
“Come here, little one.”

Jimin holds out his arm the way Jeongguk taught him to, and she hops forward before gliding onto
it, gazing up at him as he leads her to her little wooden house.

“There we are, now. In you go.”

Eunoia jumps inside where she’s divested twigs, mulch, and feathers that she's collected on her
nighttime outings, creating her own makeshift nest.

“You’re good with her,” Jeongguk notes, expression so soft it makes something inside of Jimin
ache.

“If I am, it’s because of you.”

The alpha shakes his head adamantly, expression soft.

“It has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with your pure heart. Your empathy and
kindness.”

Jimin’s cheeks heat in the face of such sincerity, blood pooling beneath the surface of his skin and
making them burn. Jeongguk’s honesty and earnestness is addicting, his easy praise fulfilling a
need in him that Jimin didn’t even know he had.
“You’re flushed,” he notes, a slight pinch in his brow that reveals his misplaced worry.

“Because of you,” Jimin whispers. “Because of the way you make me feel.”

As he reapproaches the alpha, Jeongguk’s features smooth out, something dark flitting across the
sky and the stars that make up his eyes.

“And how do I make you feel, sweetheart?”

Jimin hums, the picture of pondering as if he needs to consider it, the space between them
shrinking with each step he takes.

“Overwhelmed,” he finally draws out in a sigh, pleased when the rogue visibly struggles to
swallow.

“What else?”

"Are you sure you wish to know?" he asks, tone holding a hint of warning.

"Tell me."

Jimin holds his stare, failing to calm his heart as he answers.

“Too many things. Soft things. Like when I see how you are with the pups. Or the way you take
care of her,” he explains, motioning towards Eunoia’s home, arm lowering to match his tone when
he continues. “Indescent things. You steal away all my faculties with just one look, one hint of your
scent. I want that which I’ve never wanted before because of you. Feel emotions that are so intense
they scare me. I feel a fire, just here,” he whispers, palm flattening over his belly. “And it spreads
and spreads until it consumes me, this want and need and desire that I can’t contain until I burn
with it.”

Jeongguk’s eyes are dilated again, his body practically thrumming where he stands, working to
take in a calming breath, his usual carefully-constructed control seeming to slip.

“Gods, you don’t make this easy,” he huffs, eyes slipping closed even as he draws Jimin in closer.

“Make what easy, alpha?”

Jeongguk growls low in his throat at the title, a light of it’s own shining behind his eyes when they
reopen, the dark pigment tinted red and seeming to make them glow.

“Waiting,” he replies. “Giving you the time and space you deserve to come to a decision. You
should be courted properly, but all I want to do is claim you now.”

Jimin’s lids flutter at the admission, his own body beginning to tremble.

“My decision has already been made. Let them call me selfish, let them whisper their rumors. I
choose you," he boldly declares. "The time we are forced to wait is not meant for me. It is meant
for my people, so that they may get used to seeing us together. So that any objections will be small
in number and silenced by those that approve. If I had it my way, I would already be yours. I would
proudly bear your mark for all to see. I was made for you, after all, and you for me.”

Jeongguk's indrawn breath has Jimin’s stomach fluttering, a confidence blossoming in him that he’s
rarely ever felt before.
“Don’t say such things,” the rogue pleads in a barely-there whisper, sharp canines sinking into his
bottom lip as he shakes his head, as if the urge to sink them into something is too strong to ignore.

“It’s true.”

“The truth is dangerous.”

“That is an apt statement,” Jimin agrees, hand trailing across the slope of one of Jeongguk’s
shoulders as he circles him, marveling at the way the muscle seems to contract beneath his touch.
“I’m beginning to realize that I like danger.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m removing your collar, alpha.”

Jeongguk groans under his breath, his reaction to Jimin addressing him as such never failing to
send warm shivers throughout his body, the rogue so clearly affected, and in turn affecting Jimin.

His hands shake as he tenderly moves Jeongguk’s hair over his shoulder and pulls the key free
from his tunic. He has to force himself to calm, slowly slipping it into the small slot in the padlock
and turning until he hears it click and give way.

Jeongguk removes it from his neck so Jimin doesn’t have to touch it, setting it down gently on the
nearby chest while he circles back around to the alpha's front, eyes drifting over the silver key
cupped in his hand.
“From now on,” he begins, voice unwavering, “you’ll no longer be forced to wear it. Even when
outside the gates. I want you to go where you please and shift when you want. No more cages.”

Jeongguk appears stricken, and it's clear he never expected as much.

“Jimin—”

“Please don’t tell me it’s a bad idea. Whatever happens, whatever choices you decide to make, this
is mine. I cannot claim to care for you while also keeping you prisoner for fear of you leaving me.
That’s not how I want us to be.”

He eyes the rogue from underneath his lashes, feeling far more vulnerable than he likes, desperate
to be put at ease, and reassured that his insecurities are for naught.

Jeongguk sighs, his own lids slipping closed once more, and Jimin can’t help but take in another
deep breath when he leans down, their foreheads resting against one another, the physical comfort
of it soothing his wolf.

“I do want to stay with you,” He swears, words trembling with emotion. “You’re all I want.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just wonder if it's the right time to remove it permanently. There’s still tension, I can feel it, and
the majority of the pack doesn’t trust me. I don’t want to be an even bigger source of contention
than I already am, because I know it’ll cause problems for you. Are you honestly ready for that?”

“I am,” he states with determination.

Jeongguk is not a danger to anyone, and he wouldn’t leave without telling Jimin first.

He promised.

Anyone who takes issue with it will be quickly proven wrong anyway.

“Think about it,” the alpha implores, “You have more than enough to deal with as it is. I don't want
to be a burden to you.”

"You never could be," he soothes, fingers coming up to trace across the alpha's jaw, captivated by
his gentle smile.

"Still. Please think on it."

Jimin nods sagely at the words, affection filling him over Jeongguk putting his own interests aside
in order to look out for Jimin’s.

After a quiet moment passes, fingers continuing to map the planes of his face, Jimin speaks up
again.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ve thought about it.”

Pleasant laughter fills the room, the alpha throwing his head back and pulling Jimin deeper into his
body, arms wrapping tightly around his small frame.
“You’re a terror. You and Eunoia both.”

“At least I haven’t taken a bite out of you. Yet,” he amends, Jeongguk’s laughter dying off.

“Now I know you’re purposefully trying my patience.”

Jimin doesn’t deny it, simply gifts the alpha with his sweetest smile.

“Go on. Our baths will be prepared soon,” he reminds him, that patience that he mentioned likely
at its limit.

Jimin doesn’t so much as flush when he poses his next question.

“Do you think of me then, when you’re in the bath?" he elaborates. "Knowing that I am in the next
room bathing as well, wet and bare?”

“Jimin—”

“I think of you,” he confesses quietly, fingers tracing patterns over the inch of skin his unlaced
tunic reveals, his neck blessedly free of that hated iron, filling him with the urge to pepper it with
kisses. To taste his skin and intimately learn the flavor of him. “I think of you often, and it keeps
me hot.”

A moan leaves the alpha’s lips, and it sounds very much like his name.

“Jimin.” he repeats, like a mantra or a prayer.

He looks up, more than startled to see the whites have completely disappeared from Jeongguk’s
eyes, and with the removal of the wolfsbane-imbued metal, his teeth are slightly elongated, nails
sharp in a partial shift.

“Go now, before I do something you’re not ready for.”

Jimin wants to argue. Wants to stay and find out what that might be. To feel those same nails and
fangs sink into him and refuse to let go...but the expression Jeongguk wears leaves no room for it.

His wolf doesn’t take it as rejection this time, on the contrary, his omega is far too smug as he
collects the collar with care and saunters to the door, purposefully swaying his hips, sparing one
last glance over his shoulder to see the alpha's gaze is where he wants it.

Jeongguk’s chest heaves, a visible tent in his trousers that gives away his desire and makes Jimin’s
mouth water. The alpha craves him, and he is likely far more pleased than he should be that his
teasing brought forth such a carnal reaction.

He can’t find it in him to be sorry for his antics, though. He feels powerful. Desirable, and Jimin
anticipates the day when he’ll be able to give himself fully to the rogue, no more teasing needed.

________________

Sitting at his father’s desk, Jimin eyes the reports Taehyung laid out in front of him, the omega
seated in the chair just on the other side next to Namjoon, their grave expressions seeming to
match.

Attempts to go over the documents are met with blurry vision and a migraine forming along
Jimin’s temples, fingers coming up to rub tight circles into the skin in the hopes that it’ll alleviate
both the pressure and pain.

“Tell me,” he orders, giving up on reading it through.

“We’re nearly out of food,” Taehyung answers, not bothering to soften the truth. “Since the lake
has frozen we’ve burned through our supply of fish, and Yoongi, Seokjin and Jeongguk can only
catch so much on the outskirts of the forest. Even that has decreased with each passing day. We
need to think of something else, and fast.”

Jimin’s eyes fall shut, skull pounding, and he tries to ignore the way his hands shake as he reaches
for his mug of water, nearly knocking it over onto the reports with his unstable grip. He feels
slightly better after taking a long pull from it, mind racing, desperate to find the solution to all their
problems.

His mood has been an anxious mess since dawn, as today marks the first time Jeongguk has left the
gates without the collar.

He knows he wouldn’t leave without saying something first.

He knows…

But still, there is a small voice in his mind that seems to whisper what if, making him sick with
worry.

“The weather has been more favorable lately, but we know not how long that will last. I think it’s
time we checked the plains of Bangdae.”
“I know I suggested it, but that’s nearly two days' ride due west,” Namjoon reminds him. “And as
you said, we don’t know how long the weather will be favorable.”

“This isn’t going to be a quick trip. We would have to prepare and be smart about it. Tents, furs,
wood, water, rations. Everything we can think of to increase our chances should the weather turn.”

Taehyung quickly writes with a feathered quill on parchment, likely taking notes of everything
Jimin says, as he’s known to do.

“How many would you send?”

The conversation is reminiscent of the one they had in the omega’s room that night that feels so
long ago, when Jimin was detailing his plan to take a hunting party into Soksagim in search of
game.

It makes his chest constrict.

“As many as who are willing. The more people we have the more ground we’ll cover, the more
we’ll catch.”

“Shall we announce it later to the rest of the pack, then?” Taehyung asks, and Jimin nods before
taking another long pull of water.

“We’ll need more carts, horses, weapons and traps. Furs too. Speak to Hoseok, as well. A healer
should accompany us in case of injury, gods forbid.”

“I’ll discuss it with him.”

“I’ll also need to appoint a standing ruler while I’m away.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes with an undignified snort while Tae’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, a smile
curling at the edges.

“Of course you want to go,” the alpha mutters, unsurprised, and Jimin glares at him but resists the
urge to cross his arms over his chest.

“I don’t see why I can’t. My father joined such excursions.”

“Your father had you to act as lord in his stead. Who do you have, Jimin?”

“I have you,” he points out petulantly, frowning when Namjoon shakes his head.

“You do have me. My place is at your side, so if you go, I go. That’s the way it is.”

“Taehyung, then.”

It’s the omega’s turn to appear offended.

“I’m your attendant. If you go, should I not be there to attend to you?”

“You didn’t go into Soksagim.”

“The plains are a lot farther than the forest. You won’t be returning in a day. You’ll need me
there.”

Jimin nods his head in easy agreement, searching his mind for someone suitable.

“Seokjin, then. He’s far more knowledgeable than any of us, anyway, he’ll do fine in the position.”

Namjoon looks annoyed, but he begrudgingly agrees.

“He’ll likely be difficult. He enjoys a good hunt,” the alpha warns.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine once he learns he’ll get to play lord in the warmth of the Great Lodge for a
handful of days.”

Namjoon nods, eyes towards the ceiling as if asking for patience.

“Is there anything else?” Jimin wonders, his gaze flitting between the two of them.

Taehyung shakes his head, while at the same time Namjoon speaks up.

“I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

The other omega shuffles his papers, taking that as an unspoken cue.
“I’ll go track down some supplies we'll need and get back to you,” he promises as he stands, Jimin
directing what he’s able to of a grateful smile his way, watching as he goes.

“What is it?” he wonders once the door is closed.

“There’s been talk. Gossip,” Namjoon defines, and an anger begins to boil just under the surface of
Jimin’s skin at such a revelation, already knowing what it concerns.

“Let me guess. It's about Jeongguk?”

The alpha nods again before adding, “And you.”

Jimin’s smile is completely devoid of joy when he boldly answers, “Let them talk.”

"I'm not sure if that's wise. There’s a rumor circulating that the two of you aren’t mated, but share a
bed. Whether it be from someone who guards the door spreading such things—though I doubt it—
or the staff making it up as they’re known to do, it’s spreading.”

Jimin is well aware, he has those who are loyal to him inside the pack, and they’ve written him
letters; even if they’re too afraid to come forward themselves, detailing what it is those who wish to
see him fall are saying.

“They call me the rogue’s whore,” he states without flinching, though Namjoon cannot withhold
his. “They think he beds me nightly but will not mate me. I’ve also heard there are those that think
we have mated, and that we’ve conducted our ceremony in secret.”

“I’ve heard such things as well,” the alpha admits in a growl, clearly upset that Jimin is being
talked about in such a manner, and his eyes widen when the omega simply shrugs.

“They’ll choose to believe whatever they want, even if proven wrong. It makes no difference to me
if that is the story they choose to put stock in. They’re still claiming that Jeongguk and I are
together in some capacity, and without even realizing it, they’re getting others used to the idea. If
the rumor is so widespread, and nothing has been done thus far, then it stands to reason that
nothing will continue to be done when it is revealed that Jeongguk is my mate when the time
comes for us to take that step.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t like it. You are owed respect. More than that, you are
deserving of it. What is being said about you is unacceptable.”

Jimin gives him a small but genuine smile, bright with the love he feels for him.

“You’re a good man, Kim Namjoon, but not everyone is of your caliber.”

The alpha chuckles, though it lacks amusement, sadness deepening the lines around his lips rather
than humor while they share a quiet moment.

“I’ll take my leave, then. I’m going to start thinking of guidelines to enforce while we’re out on the
plains,” he sighs, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, exhaustion clear in his movements
that he can sympathize with.

“Guidelines?” Jimin wonders.

“It would be best if we stay organized. Set up a central camp, and then split off into groups,
depending on how many volunteers we have. There should be rules in place so we can keep track
of everyone. For instance, no one hunts alone. and a curfew should be established as well as a
check-in to make sure all are accounted for. That sort of thing.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Jimin praises. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” The alpha offers, returning Jimin’s smile as he rises to his feet.
“They’ll be back from the treeline soon. I can send Seokjin to you as soon as he arrives so you can
inform him about his new title, if you wish.”

Jimin’s stomach plummets at the reminder, thoughts bombarding him with fears that whisper in his
ears.

Will Jeongguk be with them? Or will he have vanished into the woods?

“Be nice to him,” Jimin orders, ignoring the voice of his riddled anxiety, clearly distracted.
“Seokjin, I mean. Be cordial, if you can.”

Thankfully, the alpha doesn’t notice, and he merely snorts before answering.

“No promises. It’s bad enough he’ll outrank me soon.”

“Yes, but since you’ll be coming with me, he won’t get the opportunity to lorde it over you, or
order you around,” he comforts, laughing silently to himself over the pun he made.

“It’s the little things that keep me going,” Namjoon says dryly, causing Jimin to grin.

“If you would, send all three of them up once they’re back. I’ll inform them all of what we are
planning.”
He hopes his voice doesn’t waver on the request.

“Of course,” Namjoon answers, bowing unnecessarily; as no one else is around, and it makes Jimin
laugh again at the formality of it.

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall for dinner.”

He watches; jittery with nerves, as the wolf quietly exits the room.

________________

When the knock comes, Jimin nearly finds himself dozing off, and as such jerks upright, wiping at
his face in case his exhaustion is easily apparent in his features.

“Come in.”

The alphas file inside one at a time, and Jimin's relief is so palpable when he spots Jeongguk he's
sure the alpha understands where his head is at from one glance alone, expression soft and
sympathetic. He remains standing, allowing Seokjin and Yoongi to claim the chairs, while he looks
as if he’s fighting the urge to round the desk and bring himself closer to Jimin.

“You asked for us, my lord,” Seokjin greets, appearing curious.

“I’ve been made aware that you’re not catching as much as before.”
“The more the temperature drops, the less we’ll find.”

“I understand, but there’s no time for us to be patient and wait it out, we need to act now. I’m
planning to put together a large hunting party that will travel west to the plains of Bangdae.
Hopefully we’ll have more luck there.”

“A hunting party?” Yoongi wonders, sounding excited by the prospect. “The same in size as what
was sent into Soksagim?”

“Bigger,” Jimin answers. “I’d like for you to come, if you’re amenable.”

“Of course my lord.”

“As for you,” he starts, turning towards Seokjin and noting his confused expression. “I will be
going as well, so I need someone I trust to act in my stead.”

“You can’t be serious,” the alpha demands in disbelief, already able to surmise where this is going.

“I am.”

“Fuck me.” He mumbles before turning wide eyes onto Jimin, shaking his head in remorse. “Sorry.
I mean…yes, okay, I’ll do it.”

“What about you?” Jimin asks, moving his attention to Jeongguk, who has remained quiet thus far.
“What would you like to do?”
“You’re going?”

“I am.”

“Then I’d like to as well, if I can.”

Jimin’s smile is small but bright when he nods in acquiescence before turning back to the other
two.

"Any questions? Concerns?"

"Who is seeing to the preparations?" Yoongi wonders, and Jimin finds it suspicious.

He should know the answer.

"Taehyung."

"There is much to do. What is your timeframe on when you want to embark on this journey?"

"The sooner, the better. I would say no longer than the end of the week."

"He'll need help, then…" the alpha trails off, and Jimin fights the urge to laugh and sigh at once.
"You're absolutely right. I trust you to seek him out and offer any assistance he might require."

Yoongi's eyes widen briefly before giving an eager nod, and now that that's settled, Jimin once
again poses his question.

"Anything else?"

Yoongi shakes his head this time, but Seokjin appears hesitant, the source of his concern easy to
work out.

"You'll do fine," Jimin assures. "I am told that the number of sick has remained the same, and
those that have fallen ill are slowly beginning to recover. Hopefully; gods willing, no further
incidents will occur while we are away, but if they do I have every confidence in your
capabilities."

Seokjin inclines his head in respect, gratitude painted in his gaze.

"No further questions, my lord."

"Then you're free to go."

The two of them file back out, not so much as batting an eye when Jeongguk remains behind, the
door shutting softly after them.

“Will you hold me?” Jimin asks as soon as they’re alone, startling them both, but no sooner are the
words out that Jeongguk rounds the desk, carefully pulling him from his chair and into his arms.
He’s shaking, knows he is, and in response Jeongguk holds him tighter, burying his face in his
neck and scenting him. The usual desire that comes with such an act is tempered, leaving in its
wake a sensation of calm stability, body sinking further into the alpha.

“You were scared,” Jeongguk whispers, and it isn’t a question, his regretful tone pulling at Jimin’s
heart.

“I didn’t want to be,” he admits, “but I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s okay, pup. I’m here," he soothes. "I’ll always come back to you.”

“I know. I do,” Jimin insists, needing Jeongguk to believe him, especially when it comes to this.

There needs to be trust between them.

The rogue takes another long pull of his scent, and Jimin can’t help himself. His neck is right
there…

He returns the gesture, nuzzling into the sensitive flesh and inhaling deeply, eyes fluttering when
he’s encapsulated in rosemary and cloves, Jeongguk’s small whine barely reaching him, as if he’s
underwater, all noise heavily muffled.

They both seem to tremble, hands desperate as they grip onto each other, clinging like they’re
scared they’ll slip away if they don’t. Taking in their combined scents, gradually, a kind of peace
begins to settle in Jimin, his breathing regulated, though he can’t stop shivering, even after being
scented.
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Jeongguk murmurs, brow pinched in that familiar worry again.
“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just stress. Lack of sleep...” he trails off.

“You’re putting your body through too much and not giving it enough time to recover,” he gently
reprimands, and Jimin can’t help but become endeared when he gets fretful like this. “Come, you
need to eat and rest, especially if you want to be ready for the journey ahead."

Jimin sighs but resigns himself to another experience of eating in the Great Hall, forced to endure
numerous eyes on him.

Jeongguk’s hand finds his, their fingers interlacing, and leads the way out of the study and down
the corridor, Jimin’s mouth falling open in confusion when he bypasses the stairs.

“Aren’t we going to the Great Hall to eat?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t argue, relieved that he won't be expected to put on his usual poised and put-together
persona. Tonight would have also been the first time the pack would see that Jeongguk is
collarless, and he’s grateful he gets to put that off for another day, knowing the uproar it’ll cause.

They enter the guarded corridor that houses their rooms, Jeongguk speaking softly to the men on
duty. Jimin’s mind wanders the entire time, not really taking in the quiet conversation.

He startles slightly once they move again, and Jimin is surprised for the second time when they
pass his room and go to Jeongguk’s instead. The alpha pulls him inside, the air frigid, enough so
that he can see the little cloud that appears in front of him with each exhalation.

Guiding him to the giant four-poster bed, Jeongguk urges him to lower himself down in a seated
position on the edge, pleased when he complies. Jimin watches as he kneels between his legs, gaze
simultaneously tender and intense when he begins to remove his boots for him.

Once they’re off, he regains his feet, moving to support Jimin's neck as he silently directs him to lie
back against the pillows, the alpha’s scent prominent on the furs and blanketing him in much the
same way.

“Rest. I’ll start a fire.”

Jimin can only nod, trying not to make it obvious that he’s affected, the scent of him so thick he
can taste it on the back of his tongue. It’s maddening how much it soothes his nature and ignites
his desire at the same time.

Intoxicating.

Jimin allows his eyes to slip closed, breathing in through his mouth in the hopes that it tempers the
scent, distracting himself by listening to the sounds of wood being stacked in the hearth, a
tinderbox striking, and minutes later the crackling of the fire as it takes hold.

“Jimin?”

Jeongguk is a lot closer than he thought, and he wonders if he’s drifting in and out of sleep without
realizing it.
“Hmm?” he asks, keeping his eyes shut.

“Can you sit up for me, pup?”

“Mmhmm.”

Jeongguk quietly laughs when he makes no move to do so, what feels like his thumb tracing along
his bottom lip.

“Can’t sleep just yet, sweetheart. You need to eat.”

He makes another noise in the back of his throat at that, almost sinking back into sleep again when
strong hands gently pull him into a seated position.

“Up you get, pup.”

Jimin whines, but his eyes finally blink open, blurry until they focus on Jeongguk’s fond
expression.

“Stay awake just a little bit longer, sweetheart.”

“I’ll try,” he whispers, allowing the alpha to position him how he wants, back cradled against
Jeongguk’s chest when he moves in behind him.

A moan escapes past his parted lips when the alpha’s hands begin kneading the sore muscles of his
shoulders, traveling along the slope of them and then retracing their steps, moving up towards his
neck.

“You are tense,” he notes, tone revealing his shock. Jimin answers with a whine, head lolling
forward when the alpha’s fingers sink into his hair.

“Hurts,” he keens.

“Here?” Jeongguk wonders, carefully pressing along his skull.

“Mmhmm. Temples, too.”

Those fingers card through the long, loose strands, rubbing circles into the throbbing areas he
pointed out, easing the pain that’s been steadily spreading throughout the day.

Jeongguk is thorough with his ministrations, and gradually he’s able to ease the ache that’s been
plaguing him for hours, all that tension and stress buildup seeming to slowly dissolve under his
careful caresses.

“Feel good?”

“Very,” Jimin sighs, rolling his head to the side as the alpha’s touch moves back down to his neck
and spine.

There’s a knock on the door some minutes later, and Jeongguk whispers to him to stay put as he
climbs off of the bed in order to answer it. He comes back with two carved bowls, steam rising up
from the top.
“I asked them to bring vegetable stew. It usually makes me feel better when I'm as exhausted as
you are. And it's good for you."

Carefully, he passes one of them to Jimin, who sighs when the heat from the smooth wood sinks
into his palms. It smells amazing, and his stomach gives a rumble in agreement, his appetite
rekindled and surprising him, since food has been putting him off lately.

He digs in with enthusiasm, Jeongguk periodically clicking his tongue before issuing a warning.

"Careful pup, it's hot."

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, warmth pooling in his stomach that has nothing to do with the
stew when the alpha carefully slides his hair out of the way to rest along his back.

With each new bite he feels invigorated, as if his energy is being restored, making him realize the
bad habit he's fallen into lately of barely eating again, his constitution suffering for it.

He vows to change that.

Jimin takes his time when Jeongguk reminds him to slow down, ordering that he chew lest he
choke, fingers working the muscles in his lower back and making him relax again, movements
unhurried.

"Good, pup. You did well," Jeongguk praises when Jimin clears the entire bowl, taking only a few
more bites before he's finished with his own share.

The alpha removes the bowl from his hands, setting them both down on the bedside table before
carefully coaxing Jimin to lay back down once more.
"Now you can sleep, sweetheart," he assures, stilling when Jimin reaches out for him with wide
eyes and open arms.

"You'll stay with me?"

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he assures, sliding in next to him, opening up his own arms in
invitation.

Jimin burrows into his chest, cheek smudged right over his beating heart, the rhythm of it
soothing.

Fingers bury themselves in his hair once more, gently combing through the strands as the alpha
hums something soft beneath his breath, murmuring praise that makes Jimin feel warm, safe, and
cared for.

"My pretty omega. So strong and brave. I've waited a long time for you. How did I get so lucky,
hmm?"

Jimin wants to answer him. Wants to argue.

He's the lucky one, after all. But sleep claims him first.

________________

Slowly, Jimin wakes, his body floating in a soft cloud-like place as awareness creeps in. Once his
eyes fully slide open and adjust, he's greeted with the sight of Jeongguk's sleeping form, lashes
fanning out across the tops of his flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted. He looks younger like this,
and it fills Jimin with this urge to protect him. Cherish him.

The alpha's arms are still tight around his waist, and Jimin's chest rumbles softly when he nuzzles
into his throat, trailing his mouth over delicate skin and smiling when he whines in his sleep. He
hasn't felt this well-rested without the use of his usual tea in a long while, and even his stomach is
far more settled after last night's stew.

Jimin’s gaze is suddenly drawn to the small, round mole just under Jeongguk’s bottom lip, and
without thinking it through, he softly presses on it with the pad of his index finger, feeling the
smooth, slightly raised texture along his skin, barely there but noticeable if he moves the digit back
and forth.

He doesn’t realize he’s leaning forward until he’s right there, giving into the compelling desire
he’s usually so careful about containing. Not now, though.

Now, he's ruled by it.

Compelled...

His gaze never once leaves that mole, not until he’s so close he loses track of it, eyes slipping
closed just as he places the lightest of kisses right over that tiny spot, his top lip brushing
Jeongguk’s bottom one.

As he withdraws, his gaze glances up, immediately stilling.

Jeongguk stares back at him, and Jimin watches the way his pupils expand, nearly engulfing the
equally dark color of his iris. Time seems to move differently, and he can’t help himself, really.
Finds he is repeatedly drawn to the alpha’s relaxed mouth, the top lip shapely, like a bow, while
the lower one is lush and inviting, the pink color pleasing to the eyes.
They haven’t so much as kissed yet, and suddenly it is all Jimin can think about. Suddenly it’s all
he wants.

He leans back in again with the thought, Jeongguk tracking his movements, the predator in him
watching, likely waiting to see what he’ll do. The alpha remains motionless as Jimin closes the
distance between them, eyes slitted with a need to keep him in sight, sucking in a deep breath just
before their lips press, chaste and soft and sweet.

Jimin tilts his head, a quiet hum escaping him when Jeongguk's mouth slots perfectly between his
own, catching on his lips when he moves, experimenting with the pressure and the pace, lids
finally fluttering shut once heat begins to coil in his core.

His eyes fly open, an expression of shock decorating his features as he suddenly finds himself flat
on his back, Jeongguk hovering over top of him, their legs tangled in the furs as well as each other,
reminiscent of that night he stole into his room, a dagger pressed to his throat.

There’s no knife this time, but the heat between his legs feels just as dangerous, the desire coursing
through him a much bigger threat.

“Kiss me,” he pleads, trapped in the alpha’s hold as well as his gaze, features hard as he stares at
him a moment longer.

Jeongguk surges down, Jimin’s moan echoing in the room when their mouths collide, and there’s
nothing chaste nor sweet about it.

The alpha coaxes his lips to open with a well-placed thumb, and once they do, the wet heat of his
tongue laps inside, curling against his own, along his teeth, and then the roof of his mouth, delving
deeper with the urge to taste. To consume. Jimin tries to keep up, but it’s too much when it retreats,
only to thrust back inside again, swallowing his moans whole.
A rumble has started up in Jeongguk’s chest, the vibrations of it sinking into Jimin's core, traveling
down to the place where he grows steadily harder, his cock grinding against the rogue’s thigh as
they kiss. Jimin whines into it, Jeongguk tilting his head for a better angle, mouth slanting over his
own repeatedly, a look of bliss overtaking his features as he licks along his mouth, teeth worrying
his bottom lip until it’s swollen and tender.

He likens it to waves lapping at the shore, a soft current that pushes and pulls in a never ending
motion of give and take, only Jimin feels useless to such things, Jeongguk giving and taking in
equal measure for the both of them, while he drowns in overwhelming sensation.

“Let me feel you, sweetheart,” Jeongguk growls, and Jimin whimpers again from both the sound
and the feel of it.

“How?” he asks, wanting to please him.

“Your tongue,” he answers. “Taste me.”

He moans at the instruction, and no sooner has he slipped past Jeongguk’s lips with his tongue that
he feels teeth clamp down on the appendage, the alpha sucking on it and making him cry out, slick
leaking from his rim, cock aching.

He’s trembling when the rogue releases him, pulling back just enough so that they can look at each
other, chests heaving. Jimin can feel every inch of him, pressed together in such a way that he’s not
sure where he ends and Jeongguk begins, hardly able to concentrate on anything other than the
thick rigid line that burns near his groin.

Gods, he’s big.

Jeongguk looks pained, taking in deep, gulping breaths before he dares to speak.
“We need to stop,” he sighs, tone regretful, and Jimin feels suddenly desperate to convince him
otherwise.

“We don’t have to,” he argues, hating the way his voice wavers with the desperation shared
between both him and his wolf. “There’s rumors circulating,” he babbles, “claiming that you
already bed me nightly.”

Jeongguk groans, face dropping down to Jimin’s neck, right onto his scent gland and causing Jimin
to moan, back arching, grinding more insistently into the hard muscles of the alpha’s thigh.

It takes him longer than it should, but once he gathers enough of his wits, Jimin continues trying to
convince him.

“Why deny ourselves the pleasure for which we are already accused?”

The sigh Jeongguk releases is nothing short of tortured.

“When I bed you,” he starts, teeth scraping along that sensitive spot, “I intend to mate you.”

Jimin shivers violently at such a promise, spoken with an easy confidence that he knows it to be
true.

“Are you ready for that, sweetheart? Are you ready to wear my mark for anyone to see?”

“I want it,” he whines.

“That’s not what I asked,” Jeongguk growls, hands pushing against the bed to lift himself up and
away from Jimin, putting space between them and making both him and his omega want to keen. “I
asked if you’re ready for it. If you think the pack is ready for it. If we move too fast, this could all
fall apart. We need acceptance, and support, just as you said. Are we there yet, Jimin?”

His lips part, wanting nothing more than to claim that they are. That it doesn’t matter as much as
he initially thought, but no words are forthcoming, and Jeongguk more than understands, already
knowing as much. His nose traces along his cheeks consolingly, eyes nearly crossing as he
attempts to hold his gaze.

“Don’t be upset, pup. I plan to take my time with you. To discover every single spot that brings
you pleasure and makes you beg for me. You won’t be leaving our bed for several days when
we’re finally allowed to have each other.”

Jimin whimpers at the promise, little shocks dancing over his skin from the visual.

“I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he confesses, feeling the flush that spreads across his
cheeks.

“Desperate little omega,” Jeongguk husks into his skin. “Needy for me?”

Jimin nods adamantly, fingers digging into the alpha’s tiny waist.

“Gods, you have no idea what you do to me,” he confesses on a groan, and Jimin can’t help but
think he has some idea. He can feel the evidence of it near his own aching cock, after all.

With a haggard sigh and three quick kisses to his lips, Jeongguk rolls away from him, arm thrown
over his eyes, face mostly hidden as he takes in deep, even breaths, Jimin following his example.
Gradually, they begin to settle, that uncontrollable heat reduced to embers.

“We should make an appearance in the Great Hall,” Jimin mutters, his gaze falling to the window,
light blooming just past the glass. “We skipped dinner last night, and more rumors will spread if
we miss another meal so soon.”

“They’re going to see that I no longer wear the collar. Are you sure you're ready?”

Turning onto his side, Jimin offers a small smile when Jeongguk faces him as well.

“You’ll be with me,” he states with easy confidence. “So I’m ready.”

________________

Jimin goes back to his own room to dress, choosing a crimson colored shirt and dark trousers,
going with black leather boots and a matching jacket. He piles his hair high on his head in a simple
ponytail, though he holds it in place with an opulent silver pin that catches attention whenever he
wears it.

When he meets Jeongguk back out in the corridor, his breath catches, barely noticing that the alpha
has the same reaction when his own eyes land on him, equally as affected. He’s wearing the dark
emerald green tunic Jimin picked out at the tailor's, and the shade is striking on him,
complemented by his own black trousers and boots, though he forgoes the jacket, his body heat
higher than Jimin’s own. His hair is only halfway pulled up, leaving dark curls to spill past his
shoulders, curling along his chest and cascading down his back.

"You look beautiful," he whispers into his ear when they're close enough, and unable to help
himself, Jimin preens at the praise.

"So do you."

As is now custom, he offers Jimin his arm, and together, they quietly make their way towards the
stairs, the early hour ensuring that the Great Hall isn’t as crowded just yet.

Climbing the steps onto the dais, Jeongguk moves forward in order to pull out Jimin's chair for him
before taking his own. Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung are already seated, greeting them quietly
when they join them.

"Good morning," Jimin responds warmly. "Any news?"

"We're continuing to locate and gather supplies," Taehyung informs him, shuffling a pile of
parchment in neat order. "We have wagons, I'm just getting a number on the amount of hide there
is to spare, as well as furs. Everyone will need shelter."

"May I?" he asks, motioning to the list.

Taehyung passes it to him, and Jimin is more than surprised to see his friend turn towards Yoongi,
quietly conversing with the alpha, a far cry to the cold-shoulder he had been giving him as of late.

He forces his attention back onto Tae's neat scrawl, reading over the list of supplies, necessities,
and materials.

Horses
 Wagons

Furs

Hide

Traps

Wood

Bows and arrows

Cookery

Cooks?

Flasks

Food

Medical supplies

Tinderboxes

Repair kits

On it goes, a nearly endless list of items they'll need for the journey to Bangdae, little notes or
questions marked to the side.

"Will you spread the word that I have an announcement to make at dinner?" he asks, meeting the
other omega's gaze. "I'll inform the pack about the trip then, as well as my intention to leave
Seokjin in charge. Those who wish to come can sign their name in a ledger. It'll be easier to keep
track of everyone that way."

"I'll see it done," Taehyung promises with a nod, and Jimin turns his inquiring expression on
Namjoon.

"I'm speaking to Sejin later in the day. He'll take over for me while I'm gone. Otherwise my men
know what's expected of them."

Jimin nods, turning back to Yoongi when he speaks up.

"Hoseok should be here soon, and if the number of sick is still the same I'm sure he'll be amenable
to joining the hunting party."

He gives a pleased smile, turning his attention to Jeongguk when he passes him a plate piled high
with his favorites, directing a raised brow at the alpha while he grins.

"Are you feeding me now?" he wonders, voice gentle.

"Don't think that I haven't noticed your lack of appetite lately."

"I told you, it's stress."

"Of course. So let's just focus on foods we enjoy in order to make it easier to get back into it, and
then we'll go from there."

Jimin's heart swells at the way Jeongguk includes himself by saying we, and it's not lost on him
that in their arguably short time together, he's managed to pick up on and take note of his favorite
foods.

"Okay," he murmurs, smile full of his affection when he accepts the plate, warmth spreading
through him at the way the alpha takes care of him.

________________

No one notices that Jeongguk's collar is missing. Or if they do, they do not comment on it.
Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jeongguk leave immediately after breakfast to scout the treeline again,
though they come back after only a few hours with barely a third of what they usually catch, which
wasn't much to begin with.

Jimin spends the day with Namjoon and Taehyung, trying to track down items they'll need for the
coming hunt. By the time dinner comes around, he's taken over by a nervous energy he can't seem
to shake, Tae informing him that the Great Hall is crowded with word of his announcement.

Jimin paces inside Jeongguk’s room, the alpha’s eyes following his progression, though he doesn’t
interrupt, giving him time to sort through his frazzled thoughts. But they should leave soon, lest
they keep everyone waiting.

“Are you ready?” Jimin wonders as he continues his path, and he knows he’s already asked the
alpha this question several times, but he can’t help but hope his answer has changed.

“I am.”

It hasn’t.

“But if you need more time, I’ll wait for you,” Jeongguk quickly adds.

Jimin’s expression gives away how thankful he is, even as he shakes out his hands, the skin on the
tips of his fingers feeling tight and numb, while his palms seem to sweat.

“Why are you so tense, sweetheart?”

“Hmm? It’s nothing,” he mutters, distracted. “I’m just preparing for a fight.”
The alpha chuckles, turning to watch as Eunoia pushes out of her house, feathers ruffling while she
seems to shake off the remainder of sleep. Jeongguk clicks his tongue, and the owl easily finds
him, wings spreading just as she takes off, gliding down onto his outstretched arm. Immediately
she side-steps up the length of it, not stopping until she reaches her favorite spot pressed against his
neck.

She’s a lot happier with the disappearance of the collar.

Jimin knows the rest of the pack won’t share that sentiment.

“What can I do?” Jeongguk wonders, his wolf likely on edge with Jimin’s distress.

“Just...whatever happens, don’t engage. If your lack of collar is addressed; and I’m sure it will be,
let me do the talking, please.”

“I don’t care what they say about me,” Jeongguk coos, his attention on Eunoia, fingers trailing
down her back. “But if they treat you unfavorably, they will know my displeasure.”

Jimin shivers at the absent threat, feeling nerves and heat all at once.

“Remember,” he says more to himself than anything, “calm and collected.”

“Calm and collected,” Jeongguk repeats, and Jimin frowns at him when he hears the amusement in
his tone.

“Let’s just try to get through this without incident,” he grumbles.

“What do you think, Eunoia?”

She merely blinks at them, clicking her beak before shutting her eyes, and Jeongguk turns back to
Jimin with a mischievous smile, the picture of serenity.

“Are you ready now, sweetheart?”

His eyes widen in renewed panic, and the alpha immediately gains his feet, holding his gaze when
he approaches.

“Bare your neck to me, pup. Let me help you.”

Fire curls in his stomach, licking at his insides until he begins to melt, and Jimin rushes to obey,
eyes falling shut while Jeongguk leans further into him. His lips can't help but twitch upwards
when he hears the owl trill in complaint, likely having to shift in order to not be displaced from the
rogue’s shoulder as he bows further down.

All thoughts vanish when Jeongguk’s lips graze right on his gland, teeth scraping across the
sensitive skin, the wet heat of his tongue following. He takes in a deep breath, polianthes and
petrichor strengthening, and in response he’s met with rosemary and cloves, blanketing him in
warmth and safety.

It centers him, clears some of the fog that’s clouded his head, and Jimin feels more like himself
again. More in control of his emotions. Jeongguk doesn’t linger, knowing what’ll happen if he
does, staying just long enough to soothe him.

“Better?” he whispers, voice husky, clearly affected already.

“Better,” Jimin repeats, licking his lips and watching the way the alpha tracks the motion.

“We need to go, pup. Or we’ll never leave,” he warns, and Jimin wants to assure him that he’s
more than okay with that, but Jeongguk gives him a look that makes him give in.

“You’re right,” he relents, pulling at the hem of his tunic in nervousness. “I’m ready.”

He takes the arm that is offered to him, and together they travel down to the Great Hall, Jimin
attempting to mentally prepare himself the entire way.

It’s loud when they enter, countless voices and conversations echoing up into the rafters, and
Jeongguk’s concern shows through his expression as Eunoia seems to become agitated from the
noise, burrowing deeper into his hair while hiding the entirety of her face in his neck.

“Should’ve left her in the room,” he remarks, disappointed in his lack of foresight.

She's usually good in social situations, but if things go bad, there's no telling how she'll react.

“You could always take her back up and return.”

Jeongguk shakes his head at the suggestion, determination written in his gaze.

“I’m not leaving you alone here.”

Jimin’s hand squeezes his arm in gratitude and affection, holding his head high as they make their
way towards the dais and the high alpha’s table, Taehyung already in place with ink, quill and
parchment, Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin stood off to the side.

Some conversations die off when they pass, loud voices lowering to whispers, the familiar
sensation of eyes following him crawls up the length of Jimin’s spine. He keeps his shoulders from
tensing, movements fluid and graceful while he matches Jeongguk’s pace easily, the two stepping
in time up the carved stairs and onto the platform. They come around behind the table to face the
rest of the room and the gathered wolves before them.

Jimin raises a fist up in the air, signaling for silence. It falls in hushed waves, his body nearly
trembling from the sudden loudness in the absence of sound.

“Thank you for coming,” he begins, tone strong and unwavering—thank the gods—and he allows
his gaze to sweep over the crowd, hoping they each feel addressed by his gratitude. “It should be
common knowledge by now the scarcity we face when it comes to food.”

A general sound of agreement runs through the room, anxiety ringing clear in its tone.

“With the lake freezing and the season, I fear there is not much more we can do. As some of you
know, a small party already attempts to catch game daily, but it’s not enough. I’ve asked you here
today to announce that I’m putting together a larger hunting party with any and all able wolves who
are willing to travel to the plains of Bangdae in the hopes of bringing back more food.”

Another loud wave of voices drifts in and then pulls back, questions and concerns blending into
one another.

Jimin holds up his fist again and waits for silence

“We don’t yet know if this trip will go in our favor, or if it'll just be a waste of time, but it’s clear
we’re running out of options. We have to try. Anyone who wishes to go in an effort to contribute
may come forth and write their name. I hope to leave within the next few days once supplies are
collected to fully prepare us for the journey.”

“You’re going?” a voice calls out, the question bringing with it another sound of surprise that
seems to emit from the crowd.

“I am,” Jimin answers firmly, “I’m leaving Kim Seokjin in charge.”

The alpha takes a step forward on the dais, staring unwaveringly into the audience of wolves.

“How long do you plan to stay in the plains?”

Jimin tries to track down the source of the question, but to no avail.

“It could be a week, maybe more, depending on what we find.”

“What of the weather?”

“That is why we are taking ample time to gather supplies. Shelter will equate to life out there,
especially if we’re caught in a storm. The weather has been improving, but we don’t know how
long that’ll last, so we’re working to make sure everyone we’ll have strong tents and ample furs to
keep warm.”

“Is anyone welcome to join the hunt?”

Jimin does see the wolf who poses this question, and he recognizes her as Naeri, the same omega
who blatantly shows her interest in Jeongguk. Regardless of his feelings towards her, he is
enthusiastic when he answers.

“Of course. I encourage anyone to join, no matter what your status is.”

The voices strengthen in volume again, and some sound outraged.

Maybe that's why Jimin couldn't see the next question coming after inciting such fury.

“Why is his collar off?”

The crowd seems to part, and Jimin’s eyes narrow when he recognizes Lee Eun, expression
pinched in anger. He was one of the alphas that was part of the original hunting party he sent into
Soksagim, and low and behold, he stands next to Doyun, who looks smug with the question and
the uproar it’s causing.

Jimin feels fury, only it’s not heated with the sparks of a raging anger. This feels cold, like ice
sliding down his throat and settling heavy in the pit of his stomach, spreading painful chills
throughout. It’s the kind of anger that’s dangerous and calm.

“It’s off because I took it off.”

“What gave you the right?”

Jimin sees movement out of the corner of his eyes, Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin shifting, coming
forward to flank both him and Jeongguk in a powerful statement of its own.
That ice inside of him grows.

“Was it not I who spared him in the forest when you and the others moved to take his life?”

Another murmur goes up in the crowd, but Eun is silent.

“Was it not I who made him my responsibility? Who collared him in the first place as a
precaution.”

The crowd sounds quiet, but collective in its agreement.

“Then why would it not be my right to have that same collar removed when the threat he poses is
deemed nonexistent?”

“You shouldn’t be the only one to make that call,” Eun argues. “You’re risking all of us if you’re
wrong, not just yourself.”

“I risk no one,” Jimin calls, voice raised and laced with displeasure. “If you wish to question my
judgment, know what you speak of first. He’s a member of that same hunting party I mentioned
that travels daily to the edge of the forest. The collar was removed two nights past. He’s gone
outside the gates twice now without it, and twice now he’s returned, bringing with him food for the
pack.”

More whispers, the cacophony ringing in Jimin’s head and making his temples ache again in that
newly familiar way, stomach twisting with the nerves and adrenaline of confrontation as Eun
counters his words, undeterred.
“We still know nothing about where he comes from. His pack. You’ve kept us in the dark yet you
claim we should trust you when it comes to this rogue. One you clearly seem to favor.”

Jimin’s tone is devoid of any gentleness when he asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eun's mouth falls open to eagerly answer, but before he can, someone else speaks up.

“How is it that you get to speak to him in such a manner?”

Jimin’s eyes widen as he takes in Raena’s furious form parting the crowd, one of the many omega
mothers who have come to care for Jeongguk.

Another outpouring of voices rise up, Jimin’s heart clenching when they seem to be in agreement,
making Eun’s face fall.

“The standing lord of the pack deserves respect. Would you question the head alpha in such a
way?”

One says.

“Are you going out everyday to bring back food for us?”

Says another.

“He’s not even one of our own and yet he provides more than the lot of you.”
They cry out.

One by one, those same omegas that have come to dote on Jeongguk raise their voices, and when
the opposition looks as if they mean to retaliate, their alpha mates rise up behind them, a dare in
their eyes when they stand their ground.

Eun backs off, his embarrassed countenance matched only by Doyun’s sneer, the weight of which
he directs towards both Jimiin and Jeongguk.

He takes a deep breath, hoping to get the meeting back on track now that the confrontation has
been subdued.

“As I said before, if you wish to join the hunting party, all are welcome. If you cannot or do not
want to, that is alright as well. This isn’t mandatory.”

Jimin’s eyes sweep the crowd once more, emotional gratitude filling him as he makes contact with
every single wolf that spoke up in both his and Jeongguk’s defense.

“Those who would like to come, please step forward now and sign your name.”

Nobody moves, not even so much as to shift and Jimin’s lungs squeeze painfully tight, wanting
nothing more than to bury his face in Jeongguk’s neck, just like Eunoia.

But then, the crowd shifts, and one by one, wolves line up to take the quill.
 It’s a battle not to show the overwhelming emotion and relief he experiences with each member
that signs their name, and it isn’t long before one parchment is completely filled, Taehyung moving
forward to turn the page to the next.

Some omegas join, looking uncertain as they do, but Jimin can’t help but smile reassuringly at each
one of them, Naeri included, even if her attention is solely fixed on Jeongguk.

His smile only falters when Eun approaches next, his expression clear with contempt while he
looks upon them, signing his name quickly before stalking off. Doyun is more controlled when it's
his turn, gaze calculated, taking both him and Jeongguk in with his empty eyes after scratching his
name into parchment. When he's finally finished, he holds Jimin’s stare, those dark empty eyes
devoid of light and decency, hardly blinking before turning and walking away. To his omega, it
feels like a threat.

After the line clears, Taehyung moves forward.

“Anyone else?” Jimin calls.

When the quiet stretches on, he nods to the other omega, and he quickly removes the ledger, quill
and ink, backing away as Jimin readdresses the crowd.

“Let's eat, then.”

Chapter End Notes

They finally kissed after 80k!! Oh my gosh- *faints*

Next chapter we're off on an adventure!
 The Plains of Bangdae
Chapter Notes

This took a while to get out and all I can say is moving is terrible and I do not
recommend it. I've attached some beautiful artwork to chapter one if you wish to check
it out. Hope you enjoy.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It takes three days to prepare for the trip to Bangdae, the gathering of supplies turning into an
arduous process.

Both Taehyung and Yoongi appear to be meticulous with it, though. Taehyung’s affinity for lists
combined with Yoongi’s observant and thorough nature proves them to be a very efficient duo.

They commission workers to gather frozen blocks of ice from Lake Geoul that will act as their
water supply in case there is no snow or stream wherever they choose to make camp, while older
livestock are singled out for the journey that they’ll ration as a source of food until the hunt turns
successful; or they’re forced to come back home, whichever comes first. Blankets, furs and hides
have been collected by the cartfuls, and weapons and tools are tied in individual tanned satchels,
abundant enough to outfit every pack member that volunteered for the trip.

Jimin’s nerves get the better of him the closer they come to the day of their departure, nearly
becoming sick with worry. During rare moments of solace, he finds himself praying adamantly to
the gods, his one-sided conversation with them promising that the hunt will be plentiful, hoping
that if he says it enough times; even if just in the confines of his mind, it’ll somehow be true.

Jeongguk does his best to soothe him, taking him to his bed most nights and scenting Jimin’s neck
until his restless omega, thoughts, and energy are all put at ease, finally allowing him to sleep.
Eating is a continuous battle, stomach constantly turning to mirror his anxiety, putting him off food
in the same way it puts a worried furrow between Jeongguk’s brow. Instead, he finds himself biting
his fingernails; a habit Jimin thought he grew out of when he was a pup, whittling them down until
pain blooms along the thin skin beneath.

On the day before they’re due to leave, he is left even more unsettled when he visits his father’s
chambers, Haneul’s report on his health far more grim than it has been in recent days.

“The periods of lucidity are fewer and far between,” she informs somberly. “I cannot get him to
stomach solids, and blood has reappeared in his sick.”

Jimin inwardly flinches, feeling the odd sensation of his hands going numb, fingers tingly with
sharp hints of pin-like pain, almost akin to if he were biting his nails again.

“He asks for you, at times,” she reveals, as if that could bring him peace. “In the early hours of the
morning when his fever is strong and the delirium takes hold, he calls your name."

"Do you think—" Jimin starts, taking a deep breath and trying again. "Will he—"

Haneul interrupts him before he can get the words out, seemingly knowing what he's trying to ask.

"He's still stomaching water. As long as he can drink, tis a good sign. But no one can say for
certain. Not even me."

Rather than return to Jeongguk’s bed for the sake of his own comfort, the alpha supports his
decision to remain by his father’s bedside, even if they’re meant to leave at dawn for Bangdae, and
he knows he’ll get little rest.
He’s proven right when his father moans and whimpers in discomfort during the night, calling out
to Jimin and seemingly unable to hear his reassurances that he is by his side, that he’s with him.
Not his voice, scent, or even his gentle touch can get through to the man, and then he stops calling
to Jimin entirely; and instead begs for someone to put an end to his pain.

Jimin can do nothing but watch on in horror as specks of crimson dot his father's lips, staining his
skin and the surrounding sheets with blood when he coughs raucously.

It’s a terrible night, and when he knocks on Jeongguk’s door after his father has finally settled;
even though there is little time left before dawn, the alpha gazes at him with sympathy and
empathy alike, pulling Jimin into his arms without a word. He ushers him to his bed, laying him
softly down to be wrapped up in the blanket of his sweet scent, accompanied by the warmth of his
body following him down.

It's only after they've found positions of comfort that Jimin speaks, the sound a barely-there
whisper.

"I fear he'll be gone by the time we return," he admits, burying his fingers in the unlaced fabric of
the alpha’s soft tunic. "And what will happen after…"

Jeongguk takes a deep, laborious breath, as he was already made aware from Jimin’s previous
explanation during their first few days together what follows after a high alpha dies, and what
befalls their heirs.

Tension fills the room as time passes, which Jeongguk seems to use in order to collect himself, but
Jimin's omega recognizes the restlessness in his alpha along with the disquiet, though he attempts
to hide it for his sake.

With a steadying breath he speaks, unnervingly calm, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“I would kill every last one of them if they dared to so much as look at you wrong,” he vows.
Jimin takes in his scent, lids lowering, and despite the cloves thickening with his pent up
anxiousness coupled with the drive to protect, it calms him.

“I know,” he whispers, neither fearing for himself in regards to their unknown future, nor scared of
Jeongguk’s easy promise. Instead, it pleases his wolf, as it pleases him.

"You have nothing to fear, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers into his neck, intent on soothing and
putting him at ease. “I'm well aware of how capable you are, and you know I'll never let anything
happen to you."

"I know," Jimin once again reassures, believing it in totality, lids heavy at the feel of the alpha's
gentle fingers combing through his long hair.

Perhaps it is the fear of the unknown that overtakes him, combined with his already taxed mental
state and exhaustion. He was being truthful. Jimin does know that if anything were to happen to his
father, it is more than plausible he would come out of it essentially unscathed. After all, he'll be
damned if he lets some alpha challenger make an example out of him. No. Jimin would go down
fighting until the very end, and as Jeongguk said, he would do the same, and there are many others
in the village who would also push back, driven by their love for him or his father enough to fight
against antiquated traditions.

But it is impossible to say for sure.

Unaware of his thoughts, Jeongguk's chest rumbles beneath his ear from his contentment, nimble
fingers continuing to stroke his hair and lightly massage along his scalp, offering a much needed
distraction.

The fact that he is content still takes Jimin aback. To have found someone who finds easy
happiness in just their proximity alone while expecting nothing further used to feel unrealistic to
him. To have that same alpha be the one to dissuade him in the heat of the moment when Jimin
wanted nothing more than to be claimed, because he knew it could negatively affect the omega in
the long run, managing to curb his own desires for Jimin's sake…

It's a rare thing.

Jimin has thwarted off advances before, ignored lewd comments or even lashed out at them, others
showing their clear want for his body or his position and little else while giving no other thought to
him as anything other than a means to satisfy their desires, or to gain a higher standing.

Jeongguk is different. The only alpha to make his interest clear, while also showing respect for him
as a person, a wolf, and an omega.

It kindles a warmth in him he's never felt before, attributing it to a full-like sensation that brings an
encompassing affection, ever expanding, uncontainable, until he is sure he'll burst from it.

“Do you wish to stay?” the alpha suddenly wonders, nuzzling into the thin, sensitive skin just
behind his ear, his deep voice; though quiet, ignites heat in its wake. “The others can go, and you
and I can stay, give you some time with your father.”

It’s a kind offer, and for once Jimin considers it instead of just writing it off, debating if that would
be the right thing…

After several minutes, he shakes his head, lacing his fingers with the hand Jeongguk holds over his
belly.

“If I stay, Namjoon would also remain here with me, along with Taehyung and very likely,
Yoongi. The three of them essentially planned and put together the entire trip. The whole thing
would fall apart without them, and I would be no help to anyone here,” he murmurs, working
through the jumbled thoughts running rampant in his mind. “I also feel if I were to stay, it would
only be to witness his end. I don’t want to think of it that way, but I can’t see it differently.”
Jeongguk’s hand gently squeezes his own, and Jimin returns the gesture, his voice near his ear
once again, causing his entire form to tremble.

“Are you sure you would not regret it? If we do return to learn of his passing, would you regret not
being able to say goodbye?”

Jimin shakes his head, even if it may seem callous.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to my mother, nor my brother. I feel saying goodbye would imply a
sense of preparedness for the inevitable outcome of losing him. I am never prepared to lose one of
my kin, and even if I were, goodbyes would offer me no closure.”

“Even so, I’m sure your presence would give comfort—”

“He isn’t lucid,” Jimin interjects, exhaustion clear in his voice, and he can't help but feel as if he is
coming up with hollow excuses, even if they are true. “No matter how many times he called out to
me tonight, and how desperately I tried to convince him I was right there with him, it didn’t matter.
It’s like he was trapped in a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake him up.”

Jimin stills as he remembers the feeling of helplessness he felt earlier in the night, unable to do
anything but watch as his father suffered. It's something that will stay with him, likely giving more
material for his own nightmares, and the thought of his condition only worsening haunts him.

Jeongguk sighs, the hotness of his breath blowing humid along the slopes of Jimin’s hairline as he
seems to relent, the two of them sinking deeper into the furs.

“Were the two of you close?” he asks instead, and it’s Jimin’s turn to sigh, memories long since
passed overwhelming his faculties like a wave in the ocean grown too high, until he drowns in it.
“We were, once. Not so much in recent years, but he’s all I have left now.”

“Was there a reason you two fell out?”

Jimin nods, but when he remains quiet, Jeongguk takes it as a sign to leave well enough alone, and
he hates that he sounds more subdued when he next speaks.

“You should try and get some sleep, pup. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

He wants to say something, not wishing for Jeongguk to think he’s deliberately shutting him out,
but then the alpha releases wafts of his scent, intermixed with soothing pheromones that put him at
ease.

Even after the day-to-day stress he's been suffering; rivaling only his anxiety and worries, Jimin
finds he's easily lulled, those thoughts slipping away from his mind with each pass of Jeongguk's
fingers through his silvery-white hair, his whispered promises following him into sleep.

________________

The sky outside the window is still dark when Jimin is roused with a moan, limbs sluggish as he
eagerly grips onto Jeongguk's heated body, reveling in; and returning, his slow, chaste kisses,
deepening only after Jimin invites him into his mouth.

A smile turns up the corners of his lips, brushing against Jeongguk’s own when he speaks slowly,
voice hoarse from disuse.
“Were I to wake every morning in such a way, I would be happy.”

“I will make you happy, then,” the alpha swears, lowering himself once more to his plump,
swollen lips.

It’s light and unhurried, Jimin losing himself in the soft, quiet passion of it, matching Jeongguk’s
pace, whining as the alpha nuzzles into him, caressing his flushed skin with his mouth, his fingers,
as well as the tip of his nose, moving down and to the side in order to reach his scent gland before
burrowing there, making a space for himself.

A home.

Jimin’s eyes slip closed, inhaling deeply, turning his head at an angle in order to return the intimate
gesture, his heart pounding an irregular rhythm against his ribcage while his body trembles in
stimulation. The alpha hovers over his inviting form, appearing conflicted. Tortured even, until
finally he seems to come to some sort of internal decision, though his demeanor is far from
pleased.

“We leave soon,” Jeongguk reminds them both, the voice of reason even as the words are carried
away on a sigh, and Jimin feels a weariness overtake him at the thought of it, the realization that
they will no longer have the easy atmosphere they’ve worked so hard to build together here.

For an undetermined length of time, they won't have this room, this bed. They will instead be
forced to face potentially harsh conditions, riding on the mere hope of bringing back something to
keep the pack going.

Jeongguk pulls him closer, undoubtedly sensing his trepidation, thumb and forefinger tilting his
chin up towards him until their eyes meet, and only then does he place another gentle kiss to his
lips, acting like a balm to his nerves.
“Come,” the alpha whispers. “Dawn will be here soon. Let us get dressed.”

Regretfully, they leave the coziness of the bed, Jimin going back to his own room in order to
prepare himself as Jeongguk does the same.

He dresses in layers, thick with wool lining and soft to the touch, outfitted carefully so as to
increase his body temperature. Jimin dons an undershirt, tunic, his brigandine, then a thick riding
jacket before finally wrapping himself in his fur cloak, leaving his hair down in order to help
protect his ears. He completes the ensemble with well-worn leather trousers, matching gloves with
a smooth inner lining, wool socks, and high leather riding boots that sport a flat heel.

The items he packed during the previous days have already been taken from his room to be loaded
onto a cart, likely joining Jeongguk’s own effects along with Namjoon’s, Yoongi’s, Hoseok’s, and
Taehyung’s, the six of them sharing a wagon.

Quietly, he makes his way back to the alpha’s chambers, opening the door in time to see Jeongguk
nuzzling into the small white fluff of Eunoia with the most adorable grin and wide, star-filled eyes,
her soft trills reaching his ears. The two of them mark a sharp contrast, Jeongguk dressed in his
usual dark colors, while Eunoia is such a bright white it plays tricks on the eye, a light seeming to
emanate off of those pristine feathers, appearing to make her glow.

Absently, he wonders if others see the same contrast between them. The inky, midnight black of
both Jeongguk’s hair and fur, combined with Jimin’s silvery-white.

“You’re bringing her,” he says, more a statement than a question.

“I fear if I were to leave her, she would search for me during one of her nighttime outings."

“She would,” Jimin agrees with an endeared smile as he watches them. “And it’s likely she would
find you.”
“I agree, so I’ve decided to save ourselves some time and take her with us.”

Jimin softly laughs, noticing that since he left, her little wooden house has already been taken out
of the room, probably tucked away inside their wagon by now. Approaching the two, he carefully
scratches Eunoia just under her chin, smiling when she tilts her head for him.

“She has never been to the plains that we know of,” he whispers. “Do you think she’ll get lost out
there?”

“I doubt it,” Jeongguk assures. “She has a better sense of direction than the two of us combined.”

Jimin hums in easy agreement, cooing when Eunoia latches onto his finger to nibble delicately at
the leather encasing it. Giving her one final stroke, his eyes meet the alpha’s, a flush spreading over
his cheeks at the way the other is already looking at him, emotions clear to see in his features, the
intensity of which steals Jimin's breath away.

“S-Should we make our way downstairs, then?”

With a knowing smile of his own, Jeongguk carefully encourages Eunoia onto his shoulder; where
she of course conceals herself beneath the strands of his hair. Jimin accepts the arm offered to him,
and together they exit the corridor and descend the staircase, taking the familiar route into the
Great hall. They climb the dais side by side, the smell of food prominent in the air, each table laden
with it, though the variety has taken a hit, diminishing as surely as their supplies.

As per usual, Jeongguk pulls his chair out for Jimin and motions for him to take his seat first.

“Eat,” he encourages, carefully pushing Jimin’s chair back into place. “We do not know when we
will again be given the chance.”
Jimin takes the advice to heart, and even though his appetite is still affected by stress, he swallows
down some easy foods, filling up on the simple meal of bread, rice and eggs until his hunger is
appeased.

It's still early for the Great Hall to be filled with its usual crowd, but it does begin to amass with
those that signed their name in the ledger as a volunteer to journey to the plains, all of them looking
for something to consume before what is sure to be a grueling trip.

Hoseok joins them not long after, beating Namjoon, Taehyung and Yoongi, the three likely tying
up loose ends before they depart. When Jimin looks up, the healer is staring at him in a peculiar
way, food seemingly forgotten.

Jimin returns the look until the beta appears to shake himself out of it, his Fraser fir scent spiking
before it settles again, leaving Jimin to wonder what that could be about, but instead addresses
another matter.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about my father,” he quietly says by way of greeting, not wanting word to
spread of the alpha's worsened condition outside of those he trusts.

“More than that, I’ve seen him,” Hoseok reveals, a heavy countenance overtaking his features as he
explains. “I’m the one who relieves Haneul when she needs rest.”

Jimin nods in understanding, trying to hide the weight of his emotions.

“And the rest of the village?” he starts hesitantly. “Do the others affected show any such signs
of...regression?”

Hoseok shakes his head, Jimin’s anxiety over the matter rising, not sure what he expected, or
which answer he would've preferred.

“Your father’s case is the most serious, by far. Besides Jongdae, of course.”

“And he wasn’t sick for long,” Jimin remarks, Hoseok once again shaking his head.

“Not nearly as long as your father. Even the others have shown steady improvement. But his
alcoholism did him no favors.”

“Right…of course.”

Jimin’s mood sinks lower at the news, though Jeongguk’s hand on his knee and his bright eyes
when he turns to look at him provide a welcome distraction as he attempts to comfort in what way
he can. The venture proves successful after he points out one of the volunteers asleep in their plate,
the two of them snickering when another kind wolf wakes them and they rise with rice and egg all
over their face.

Jimin can sympathize with such weariness.

Seokjin is the next to make an appearance at the table, already showing signs of his own
exhaustion.

"What is it?" Jimin asks, the alpha clearly grumpy.

Jin shakes his head.

"I'm barely awake and I already have people trying to set up meetings with me," he complains,
rubbing at the tired lids of his eyes, and Jimin does laugh then, a small thing, but already helping
him to feel lighter.

"I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but, well…" he trails off with a shrug, grinning when the
alpha groans.

The rest of breakfast is a quiet affair, even after the other three finally join them to quickly eat
something before they depart.

“We leave soon,” Namjoon quietly informs him as he stands, hand placed near Jimin’s shoulder
and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be down in the courtyard directing the others.”

He nods at the given information, watching as Yoongi and Taehyung quickly finish their meal to
follow after the alpha.

They all rise from the table, though Jimin stays behind with Seokjin; Jeongguk lingering as well
while he speaks to him.

"You'll be okay," Jimin declares, and it is both a statement and a question.

"Of course," Seokjin assures, waving his concern away. "Not sure about the rest of the pack,
though; especially if they continue to bother me, but I’ll be fine."

Jimin laughs again, squeezing the alpha's arm in order to give comfort before his expression turns
serious.

"Give us ten days. If we're not back by then, come after us," he instructs, set at ease by Jin's firm
nod.

"I'll drag you back if I have to," he swears, and Jimin is beyond delighted that he already seems fed
up with his new, temporary position when he hasn’t even started yet.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replies in a soft farewell, taking the arm Jeongguk provides as he
approaches.

"Watch over him," Seokjin calls, and when Jimin turns back he sees he's addressing the other
alpha. "Keep him safe, wobbles."

Despite Jeongguk's lack of enthusiasm for the nickname, he still gives a nod to acknowledge the
order before the two of them make their way beyond the double doors. A shiver seems to run
through them simultaneously as they're struck by the inescapable cold, carefully descending the
freshly salted staircase to make their way to the outer courtyard.

It's not snowing, but it feels as if it will at any moment, Jeongguk softly cooing to Eunoia when she
burrows deeper into his neck, while also pulling Jimin closer against his side, the heat of him
surrounding his form and sinking into his own skin despite his many layers.

Since the journey there will take two days, the carts have been outfitted with frames, thick hides
and furs stretched over them to offer shelter from the elements. There's over a dozen carts in total,
some filled with just supplies, others meant to carry people. Namjoon and Taehyung seem to be
directing the gathered crowd, marking things down in a ledger as they point to specific wagons,
volunteers shouldering their satchels and making their way to the assigned carts; which Yoongi
seems to be inspecting.

They approach Namjoon and Tae just as a volunteer departs towards the wagon they've been
assigned to, the guard acknowledging them with a nod.

“You’re very organized, I see,” Jimin compliments with a grin, moving closer to Jeongguk, hoping
to chase away the chill with his radiating body heat.

“We’ll be dealing with too many unknown variables out there,” Namjoon sighs. “Having a strict
system in place will help establish order and keep things from becoming unmanageable.”

“I agree, and I thank the three of you for your hard work,” he commends as Yoongi approaches
from one of the wagons, the three of them appearing grateful for the recognition. “Would you walk
me through your system?”

Namjoon nods, and Jimin nearly smiles from his expression, knowing that he loves going over a
good plan.

“From the list of volunteers, we’ve separated them into groups. The same members that ride in a
wagon together will later be grouped together in camp. A head count will be conducted along each
stop and during each night and morning. We plan to go for four hours before breaking, and allott
twenty minutes for the horses to drink and rest before encouraging replacement drivers to resume
the journey. Each day we stop at dusk and pick back up again at dawn until we find a suitable
location in Bangdae.”

“I’m amazed at you all,” Jimin admits, clearly impressed. “And I have every confidence that
everything within our control will run as smoothly as possible.”

The three of them beam before Taehyung motions towards a particular wagon.

“That one’s ours if you’d liked to get settled. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

Jimin inclines his head in gratitude and moves towards their home for the next two days as
Jeongguk guides him to it, eyes widening when he sees a familiar figure.
“Bongcha,” he greets with a wide smile, the large shire swiveling her head towards him at the
sound of his voice. “How are you girl?”

She snorts once he stands before her, bumping her head into his chest in greeting. He gladly rubs
between her eyes, endeared, her head lowering and allowing him to do so while his hand moves
further up to scratch behind her ears, grinning at the pleased little snuffling sounds she makes.

“Happy to be out of the stables?”

She swipes at the ground with the hoof on her left leg in answer, making Jimin beam.

“I know her from all our hunting trips, but is this also the same mare you had with you in the
forest?” Jeongguk asks with clear curiosity, Jimin’s smile widening while he nods.

“The very same. I met the both of you on the same day,” he reveals with a grin, petting just above
the soft skin of Bongcha’s nose.

The alpha comes up behind him, his larger body nearly engulfing Jimin’s and making his breath
hitch, while Bongcha’s eyes widen at the newcomer. Jimin isn’t sure how she’ll react to him, but
he smiles once more when she leans into Jeongguk’s outstretched hand, blinking slowly as he runs
it gently down her lustrous neck.

Seeing movement out of the peripheral of his eye, Jimin turns his gaze down the wagon train, face
falling when he spots Doyun watching their exchange, the man’s empty eyes appearing ominous as
he takes in the scene, and Jimin can’t help but remove his hand as quickly as possible, feeling as if
he’s just given something away that he shouldn’t have, his lungs constricting while he watches the
alpha turn away with a blank expression.

Jimin encourages them to move away from the horse with a soft farewell, rounding the cart until
they reach the opening that will allow them entry. Jeongguk’s hands fall to his waist as he lifts
Jimin up and onto the back, the tanned hide helping to block the breeze but not the chill. It finds its
way in, much in the same way it passes through Jimin’s fur cloak and layers, sinking through his
skin to be absorbed by his very bones until it feels as if he is made of ice, while a continuous cloud
of exhalations slip passed his numb lips, feeling as if he is not getting enough air each time he takes
a breath.

Jeongguk climbs in after him, and they immediately gravitate towards each other, finding one of
the corners near the front to bunker down in. Inside rests their individual satchels, cots, blankets,
furs, and Eunoia’s wooden house—which Jeongguk carefully deposits her in before covering it
entirely in order to retain heat. Jimin’s lids feel heavy as he watches Jeongguk grab some coverings
once the owl is settled in, sitting down and pulling him into his body, back to chest, wrapping them
both up completely, and then wrapping Jimin securely in his arms.

Hoseok is the first to join them, not so much as even batting an eye when he takes in their intimate
position, and instead moves to grab his own blankets to bundle up in as well.

There’s shouting outside from Namjoon, and then Taehyung pulls himself into the cart and informs
them, “We’re about to be underway.”

Yoongi climbs in next, and Jimin can hear Namjoon step up into the driver's cab. Another shout,
and then the wagon jerks, their speed careful and steady as they navigate the village streets, only
increasing once they're free from the walls.

For four hours they ride, Jimin sure he falls asleep with the gentle swaying of the cart and the
safety that comes with being wrapped up in his alpha. When they stop the first time to let the
horses rest, he remains in the wagon with Jeongguk, easily falling back asleep once more when
they begin moving again, Yoongi trading places with Namjoon. The second time they stop,
however, he gets out to stretch his legs, noting the further away they get from Hogok Mountain,
the less snow covers the earth.

He looks up and down the wagon train, taking in the small group of older livestock that travels
with them, still wary of the horses and likely remaining behaved due to their presence.

They have a midday meal of bread, cheese and rice before continuing on, the sun sinking just as
they end their last four hours. The horses are unhitched from the wagons and brushed to keep the
sweat on them from irritating their skin while water and alfalfa are provided. They create an
enclosed circle with the carts that cage in the animals, and in the center a large bonfire is made that
Jimin can feel even in the safety of his own wagon, eating another meager meal while Jeongguk
tends to Eunoia.

When he returns, the owl isn’t with him, and at Jimin’s concerned gaze he shakes his head with a
small smile.

“She’s exploring and hunting. She’ll be back.”

Jimin doesn’t know how he can say it with such surety, but he envies him his confidence, shivering
in the cold, the temperature dropping drastically with the disappearance of the sun. Without
needing to ask, Jeongguk is already climbing onto the cot with him, pulling his smaller frame into
his arms once more and fitting him to his body in a way that not a single part of either of them isn’t
touching the other.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he murmurs against his hair, and simultaneously a happy smile comes to
his lips while his eyes fill with exhausted tears brought on from the question alone, the alpha so
attuned to him he can sense when something is wrong.

“I just hope this works,” he admits. “I hope all this preparation and uncertainty pays off.”

“It will,” he swears, exhibiting that confidence again.

“I don’t like being away from home,” Jimin admits in a whisper, feeling silly. “I feel vulnerable
without my familiar walls.”

“That's understandable," he murmurs, Jimin's heart clenching when he remembers Jeongguk has
been kept away from his own home for a long time, yet rather than point this out, he comforts him.
"Try closing your eyes, and imagine it’s just another night. We are no longer here, and instead are
warm and comfortable in our room.”
“Our room?”

Jeongguk hums. “In our room, in our bed.”

Jimin is still grinning when he nuzzles into the alpha’s chest, drowsiness making his lids heavy.

“One day we will have our own room, and everyone will know it as such. Just as they’ll know you
are mine and I am yours.”

“Do they not already?”

Jimin giggles tiredly and shakes his head, causing his nose to trace over the alpha’s skin through
his shirt, muscles hard and defined.

“I’ll have to rectify that, then,” Jeongguk swears, making Jimin laugh again as he nuzzles
insistently into his neck, scenting him until he is giddy with it. “Surely they’ll suspect something
now.”

“I don’t know,” Jimin draws out, eyes gazing upwards in consideration. “It might not be that
obvious.”

“Obvious,” Jeongguk wonders, lapping at Jimin’s skin and eliciting shivers. “I can be more
obvious.”

With that he nips over Jimin’s scent gland, sending shivers throughout his body, his wolf desperate
for him to bite down, to mark him—
A cough cuts through the fog, the two of them turning to see a very horrified looking Taehyung
curled up on his cot, neither one of them realizing he was there.

“Sorry,” Jimin apologizes, Jeongguk’s own apology softly murmured after his, the other omega
slowly turning away with wide twitching eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jeongguk quietly huffs in disbelief while shaking his head, causing Jimin
to gape at him. “Have you no restraint?”

“Me?”

“No shame?”

“You think I have no shame?” he demands incredulously.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

Jimin can’t help but snort into a fit of laughter, Jeongguk doing his best to shush him and cover his
mouth so as to quiet the noise.

“You’re going to get us thrown out of this wagon.”

That only makes Jimin laugh harder at the absurdity of the situation until Jeongguk removes his
hand and replaces it with his lips, stealing his breath away and quieting him down immediately. He
keeps it chaste, not wanting to wind up in the same situation that started everything, the slowness
of it bringing Jimin’s exhaustion to the forefront of everything else, as if Jeongguk is purposefully
using his wicked mouth to lull him, causing his eyes to remain heavy and closed, turning his
movements and reactions sluggish.

“You’re a handful, Park Jimin.”

He smiles into the kiss, but it’s the last thing Jimin hears before he falls asleep.

________________

The wagon train continues its trek as the sun slowly rises, lightening the sky over the thin slush of
snow that barely covers the ground. It’s a good sign. The less snow, and milder the temperature is,
the more potential for animals to graze the plains. They still have another day’s journey ahead, and
the weather can only get more agreeable the longer they travel.

Hoseok starts the morning in the driver’s cab, and Jimin is granted another slow wakeup in the
arms of his alpha. Four hours go by quickly, however, especially since he spends it catching up on
more rest, and after their twenty minute break, it’s Jeongguk’s turn to take up the reins.

Despite his disagreement to it, Jimin keeps him company in the crowded cab.

“You’re cold,” the alpha growls, “you should go back inside where it’s warmer.”

“You’re warm enough,” Jimin assures him, and Jeongguk shakes his head.

“I can’t hold you like this,” he complains, and even though he’s attempting to sound stern, he just
seems disappointed by the fact.
"I can sit on your lap."

"Do you want me to crash?"

“If Eunoia can stay with you, I can stay with you,” he argues petulantly, eyeing the owl on his
shoulder, to which the alpha snorts.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were covered in feathers.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m being a brat?”

“I just want to be with you.”

Though Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of the trail, Jimin can see the way his face softens at the
declaration from his profile alone, the sweetest of smiles curling over his pretty lips.

“I want to be with you too, sweetheart. But I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t get sick,” Jimin promises without hesitation, grinning when the alpha chuckles.

“That’s not something we get to decide.”

"I'm very stubborn."

"I've noticed," Jeongguk mutters before immediately throwing him a grin, and Jimin is unable and
unwilling to hide his own affectionate smile.

A heavy chill still hangs in the air, though the sun is bright and warm on Jimin’s exposed skin,
looming overhead with each passing hour. There’s something else in the air besides the crisp scent
of winter. Something that smells like pine and dirt, heady with the scent of damp.

It’s as if they’ve traveled back through time, as the harsh reality of winter has barely begun to
touch the land they now traverse.

“Do you think it will even snow while we’re here?” Jimin wonders, Jeongguk’s expression turning
pensive as he eyes the sky.

“As cold as it is back home, so far this place seems milder in comparison. But it won’t remain so
for long. I wouldn’t be surprised if the weather turned soon.”

Jimin’s heart flutters, busy trying to recover from the way Jeongguk addressed the village as
‘home,’ likely not even realizing the significance, nor the emotion it conjures within him at the
title.

Time seems to go by at a crawl, though after Jeongguk’s four hours are up, it passes quickly in the
alpha’s arms once they retreat back inside the safety of the wagon, the two of them napping on
their designated cot wrapped up in each other. Once another four hours pass, they stop for a break,
taking the time to have their midday meal while also washing off in a nearby creek.

Jimin claims the last shift before they’ll stop to make camp, and he can’t help but feel smug when
Jeongguk also joins him in the crowded driver’s cab, holding up a warning finger to Jimin before
he gets the chance to gloat. He settles for keeping on a self-satisfied smile, the likes of which pulls
a small smirk from Jeongguk's own lips as well.

By the time they stop for the night, he’s weary and bone-tired, barely able to chew a piece of
toughened bread before he succumbs to sleep, Jeongguk waking him a moment later with firm
instructions to drink some water before laying him down on their cot and following after him.

Jimin can barely keep his eyes open through the whole process, and finds his way back to sleep
with the ease of someone who is beyond exhausted.

________________

They resume their journey come dawn the next day, and It takes another four hours to reach the
plains of Bangdae, the flat; mostly open land still full of grass, though the low temperature of the
early morning air seems to have frozen the dew gathered along the blades.

They don’t stop as soon as they enter the area, and instead search for the best location to make
camp. It’s only after they’ve found a smattering of trees with a stream nearby that they deem it
suitable.

As soon as the wagons slow to a stop, they’re out, with Namjoon, Taehyung and Yoongi once
again taking point while both Jimin and Jeongguk stand by their side. The ledger is utilized, and
Namjoon maps the area, designating where the multiple camps will be set up, with a main camp in
the middle that’ll house supplies, including weapons, tools, equipment, livestock and food, along
with the medical tent. Each camp surrounding the center will house the rest of the pack, made up
of a circle of tents that will enclose a firepit in the middle as a means to evenly distribute and
provide warmth for everyone in that group.

Jobs are also assigned, from those made responsible for erecting tents, to unloading the carts, to
tending to the horses and livestock, along with water fetchers, and of course, a quartermaster;
which Yoongi will hear of no one else being appointed to but him. Jimin won’t say it out loud, but
he prefers the alpha in that position anyway, trusting no other to the task besides those that make
up his close-knit circle.

It takes an additional three hours to get the camp in working condition, of which it resembles a
giant ring consisting of six smaller spheres that house five to ten wolves, not including the main
central camp that those circles enclose.

It’s a couple of hours past midday by the time everything is functional, and Jimin wanders his own
camp that consists of his closest companions before halting, watching as Namjoon approaches him
with determination written in his features.

“There’s still some daylight left. I propose we scout the area, see what we can find.”

“Do you plan to venture far?”

“Not this late in the day. Won’t need the horses for it.”

Jimin nods.

“How many groups?”

“Three,” Namjoon answers, already thinking it through. “One to the north, south and east.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, as long as we don’t linger. We don’t want our scent to scare off any potential
game.”

“Agreed,” Namjoon nods, and Jimin smiles, about to speak when the alpha beats him to it. “I
assume you wish to be a part of one of these groups?”

“You assume correctly,” he agrees, doing his best not to smile.

The guard sighs as if put out, but Jimin knows better just by the twinkle in his eye.

“You’ll come to the north with me, then. Which means Jeongguk will also be joining us. Taehyung
wants to come as well, and as such I’m sure Yoongi will also be along.”

“You’re very astute.”

Namjoon chuckles deeply, and Jimin also can’t help but join in.

“I’m surrounded by gobsmacked fools.”

“Ever the romantic,” Jimin laughs again, and Namjoon flashes him a bright smile.

With that, the two seperate and he sets off to find his alpha, locating him near his tent with a sleepy
Eunoia perched on his arm and her familiar house tucked under the other, clearly moving it inside
what will be his lodgings for the foreseeable future. Though it might be seen as lacking propriety,
Jimin follows him inside the thick-walled tent, watching as he sets up Eunoia’s home and gently
tucks her inside.

“Namjoon has suggested a scouting party,” he starts tentatively, watching the way Jeongguk still
fiddles with the wooden house.
“Where are we going?” he wonders without needing to be told of his plans, nor attempting to
dissuade Jimin from joining; though he knew he wouldn’t, the alpha constantly supporting him in
his decisions.

“We’re going to the north,” Jimin answers, “getting a lay of the land.”

The alpha turns to him, hair windswept, cheeks flushed, pretty bow-lips a deeper shade of pink that
borders on crimson.

He takes Jimin’s breath away.

“What?” Jeongguk asks, a grin taking over those lips.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you can’t believe what you’re seeing,” Jeongguk elaborates, appearing almost boyish and
shy, causing Jimin to feel his features soften.

“Because I can’t,” he answers simply but truthfully. “Every time I look at you I question if you’re
real or not.”

“Do you?”
“Mmhmm.”

“Am I that unbelievable?”

“To me, you are,” he whispers. “I would liken you to a myth,” he smirks, turning coy. “Something
created from the greatest imagination.”

His fingers gracefully play upon the air at those words, seeming to delight Jeongguk, the alpha
beaming at his antics, causing Jimin’s stomach to flutter as he steps closer to him, bringing their
bodies in close proximity, nearly touching.

“If I am a myth then you are a dream.”

Jimin’s cheeks flush from more than just the cold, as the alpha sounds entirely serious, his sudden
embarrassment at the sincerity downcasting his gaze, though Jeongguk’s fingers rectify that, gently
urging his chin up until their eyes meet again. Neither one of them says a word, though they
understand all the same.

Moving as one, their lips meet and Jimin swears he feels the breath leave him, stolen by
Jeongguk’s mouth over his own. They keep their movements slow, unhurried, savoring the taste of
each other just before the alpha’s tongue traces Jimin’s plump bottom lip, seeming to easily swell
due to his ministrations.

Their lips continue to rest against each other, loathe to part, and Jimin finds himself unable to keep
from smiling.

“You poet, you.”

The alpha laughs, a deep rumbling sound that Jimin can feel not only in the places they touch, but
also through his many layers, his wolf lifting its head, pleased at being the cause of such joy.

“For you, I would produce sonnets.”

“I’d say you already do.”

They both laugh again, Jeongguk’s forehead lowering until it makes contact with Jimin’s own, the
two of them breathing each other in as they often do, enjoying their combined scents.

“Do we need anything before we depart?”

His brow furrows at the shake of Jimin’s head.

“We aren’t taking the wagons. We’re shifting.”

It’s impossible not to notice the wide-eyed look Jeongguk gives him, and Jimin carefully tucks a
dark wisp of a curl back behind his ear.

“What is it?”

“I’ve never seen your wolf form.”

Jimin can't help the confident; albeit smug, smile that takes over his features.

"No," he agrees, "you haven't."

Patting the alpha on the chest, he exits his tent and makes his way towards his own, seeking
privacy in order to disrobe for the change. Though the ground isn’t covered in snow, it is quite
cold, and the inside of his own lodgings will offer better protection from the elements until he
trades skin for fur.

Removing his clothes, Jimin folds them neatly and sets them down on the pallet of furs that make
up his bed even as he shivers. He then lowers himself towards the rug-covered floor, closing his
eyes and finding that place in his mind where his wolf rests and gives control over to that part of
himself as he invites the change, trying not to be too discouraged when it takes time, that part of
him kept isolated and closed off, and as such he winces from the unfamiliarity of it when his body
slowly starts to transform, pain and discomfort filling him, as it has been too long.

Lowering his head, he grits his teeth, watching the long silvery strands of his hair that hangs over
his curled-in shoulders retreats, the color spectrum that makes up his vision morphing, while fur
sprouts from his skin, traveling down his bare arms, hands giving way to paws.

Once everything settles into place, his body quivers, giving a shake of his now canine form before
stretching, lowering his front legs and bowing his back, the fluffiness of his tail twitching before he
rights himself.

His sense of smell is heightened in human form, but when he’s like this, it’s indescribable,
everything carrying a signature scent that nearly overwhelms, and is just as valuable; if not more
so, as his eyesight.

Turning, Jimin trots out of his tent, raising his head when the sun touches his form, his nose lifting
to the wind while trying to detect something of interest.
Rosemary and cloves is what captures him, and his head turns sharply to see a familiar large black
wolf watching him from across the campsite, the two of them remaining still in their appraisal.
Slowly, the bigger wolf moves first, taking measured steps towards him, and rather than stand
there, Jimin meets him halfway, transfixed by the alpha.

Everything seems brighter around him, like the air is clearer, the scent stronger, a blazing aura that
draws him in and so clearly marks the wolf as different from the rest. It marks him as Jimin’s, a
fact so obviously true in this form that he knows it could never be disputed.

He remembers the question Taehyung put to him after reading the book on imprinting. The one
that suggested he might be more influenced by his feelings for the rogue if he shifted, and now that
he has, Jimin can honestly say his feelings have not changed, they're just more clear now than
they've ever been before. In this body, his carefully crafted control does not exist, as his wolf has
no need for such things. So when he stands before the other he wastes no time in scenting the
alpha, nosing along his fur as he attempts to sate his curiosity, far more intimate than what is
custom for unmated wolves.

Jeongguk does the same, sniffing him behind the ears, along his neck and even offering licks to his
snout while Jimin continues to explore, the two of them uncaring that they are out in the open.

It’s when Jimin begins to playfully nip at the alpha’s neck and ears that they’re joined by the
others, Namjoon’s agouti wolf cocking his head at them, just as Yoongi’s gray wolf steps into the
clearing, closely followed by a dark chocolate wolf that is Taehyung, the two so close their sides
brush, and Jimin wonders if their wolves feel as connected as his does to Jeongguk.

When all are accounted for, they follow Namjoon, falling in line behind him as they trot out of
camp, picking up speed once they clear the tents. They race over open land, Jimin’s ears twitching
with the sound of the stream to his left, the wind carrying different smells to him that make his
senses perk up and drive him to investigate. They continue to run, passing grasslands as well as
boulders of great size, groups of clustered trees and sprawling hills.

They smell it, then, the five of them slowing before they cautiously creep around some tall, thick
pines, catching sight of what looks to be…
A herd of elk.

The herd itself is of impressive size, and even in this form, Jimin feels the pounding of his heart at
such a discovery and what it means.

As one they back away, retreating so that they are not spotted. Luckily, they’re downwind from the
grazing animals, who won’t be alerted to their presence. They’ll still be in the vicinity come the
morrow, and they have food enough back at camp that taking one down isn’t necessary. This was
just a scouting mission after all, and it has proven to be successful.

They keep their movements careful until they are well out of earshot, and only then do they return
to camp at a sprint.

The others transform right away, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung rushing to dress before they're
off to see if the other groups have returned, eager to learn if they found anything, while likely
doing another headcount. Jimin and Jeongguk, however, seem to both mutually agree to spend
more time in their wolf forms, making for the smattering of trees just behind the camp.

Their bodies graze each other as they walk, Jimin resuming his playful nips at the larger wolf who
guffaws, a posturing growl beginning to rumble in his chest that amuses Jimin. They stop at an
alcove of a fallen tree, creating a bit of shelter under its uplifted roots, a bed of moss inviting
enough for Jeongguk to circle it before lowering himself to the ground, blinking at Jimin in
invitation.

He takes the offer, settling in next to the other wolf, basking in the heat that radiates off of his
body while they immerse themselves in the sounds of life around them. Jimin’s lids lower, mouth
opening to allow his tongue to loll out while he pants, absently craving water when he feels a tug at
his own ear, Jeongguk getting revenge for all the nips he’s had to suffer, only to then soothe it with
a lick.

They stay like that for some time, watching as the brightness of the sky begins to fade. It’s only
then that they leave their quiet sanctuary, and make their way back to camp.
They practically drag their feet as they go their separate ways, Jeongguk to his tent, and Jimin to
his own, with one final look at each other over their shoulders. The shift back brings with it sore
and achy muscles for Jimin, though not nearly as bad as he anticipated.

When he sees Jeongguk again, they’re both redressed, and the alpha wears a smile over his lips,
something bright burning in his eyes that Jimin feels he both understands and reciprocates.

Dinner consists of meat, which seems to bring morale to everyone as one of the older livestock was
chosen to provide the meal.

Some wolves eat in the central camp. Others go back to their own designated groups, while others
still venture into camps that aren’t their own. Like Naeri, who found Jeongguk’s location with ease
before inviting herself to join them as she continued on with her endless line of questions in regards
to Jeongguk’s home.

His true home, along with the pack he actually belongs to and left behind.

The only saving grace is that the omega sits across from the both of them while Jeongguk remains
close to Jimin’s side, and as such, he’s able to feel the way the alpha steadily tenses throughout the
ordeal, clearly not happy with the attention nor the countless inquiries.

Trying to offer what little comfort he can, Jimin rubs down the center of his back with his free
hand, unseen as they lean closely together, fingers following the shape of his spine before tracing
the numerous muscles. When that can only do so much, he pointedly eyes their cleaned plates, the
dark sky, and then Naeri herself, remarking as to the late hour.

She easily waves away the polite attempt at dismissal, genuinely not getting the hint, or doing so
purposefully until Jimin hardens his tone.
“The journey was long. It’s late and tomorrow starts early. It’s time to retire.”

She looks at Jeongguk, as if he’d offer argument.

He does not.

Gracefully, she rises with a forced smile, dusts her hands off, and bids them goodnight.

“She seems far too curious,” Jeongguk mutters once she’s disappeared towards her own camp.

“It’s a ruse,” Jimin huffs with a roll of his eyes, staring up at the twinkling stars, so reminiscent of
the light that shines in Jeongguk’s own eyes. “She’s enamored with you.”

Jeongguk neither agrees nor disagrees, but he appears unsettled as his gaze continues to stare at the
last place they saw her.

________________

The birds aren’t even awake when Jimin leaves the confines of his warm tent, fully dressed and
prepared for the hunt. They’ll once again be scouring the north, taking the horses this time while
another pack member will follow behind with the cart, ready to transport any game they manage to
take down.

They eat a perfunctory breakfast, give out instructions to the other groups, conduct another form of
roll call and then leave before the sky even begins to lighten. They search for signs of that same elk
herd, Yoongi an excellent tracker, quite capable as he leads them towards a raised smattering of
hills that overlook the beasts while they graze along the plains below, an easy vantage point for
Jimin and his bow, though he is far from the only seasoned marksman in the bunch, all of them
taking down several of the animals.

The rest of the herd scatters as soon as they realize what’s happening, though for the most part they
manage not to seperate, and they’ll be easy to track again. The stragglers are given a swift end, the
hunt successful. After, they wait for the cart to catch up, loading the game inside and heading back
to camp, where the meat will be put on ice.

When the rest of the groups return, it is with equally full carts, Jimin’s relief at the sight so heady,
he feels faint with it, Jeongguk having to steady his trembling form with an arm around his waist,
wide-eyes bigger than usual as he searches Jimin’s face.

“We’re going to be okay,” he whispers in disbelief, the alpha’s expression softening.

“We’re going to be okay,” he repeats, and Jimin feels overwhelmed tears at his lids, though he
manages to keep them at bay, thankful that his people will not starve.

That night, when Naeri returns, Jimin squeezes Jeongguk’s hand and takes the opportunity to speak
with Namjoon, avoiding his alpha’s imploring eyes as he leaves him alone with the other omega.

He’s not jealous anymore. Truth be told, he just doesn’t want to listen to her prattle on,
experiencing embarrassment on her behalf that she seems oblivious to Jeongguk's lack of interest
from the lackluster responses she receives as well as the distance he employs.

It really should be obvious by now that Jeongguk has no interest in giving her answers, let alone
interest in her.

Jimin makes his way across camp, sitting on the same repurposed log that Namjoon has claimed,
the alpha gazing into the fire.
“He looks miserable,” the guard notes with a chuckle, inclining his head in Jeongguk’s direction.

“I suspect he is,” Jimin grins, unable to hold in his snort when the alpha’s eyes connect with his
own across the way, clearly unhappy with his situation.

“Does she not see how obvious the two of you are?”

"Ignorance is bliss I suppose,” Jimin mutters, turning away from his distressed alpha. “How are
you?” he wonders, “And how fares everything so far?”

“I’m optimistic,” he admits. “After the day we just had, I can’t help it, I’m hopeful.”

“I am as well,” Jimin reveals, gaze once more focused on the fire. “I think we're going to be okay,
as long as we keep the meat from spoiling."

The alpha nods, massaging between his knuckles as he appears nearly lost in thought.

"What did the other groups catch?”

“Deer, mostly,” Namjoon reveals. “Though the group to the south claimed to have caught the scent
of bison, and a lot of them.”

“That—” Jimin takes a deep breath, gathering himself. “That would be all we would need,” he
shakily exhales, Namjoon nodding again.

“Needless to say, I think tomorrow we should all focus our efforts there. If we can track the herd
and take down a few of them as a pack, we’ll be set.”

“We’ll need to be smart about it. We've lost people before during bison hunts. And supplies are a
must. They’re too big to transport back in their entirety. They'll have to be skinned on sight.”

“Agreed. We’ll likely take multiple wagons to accommodate everything, and create groups devoted
to those specific tasks. One for hunting, one for skinning, harvesting, transporting, and so on. The
more efficient we are, the more food for the pack.”

“You’re really doing an amazing job on this trip,” Jimin suddenly compliments, Namjoon turning
surprised eyes on him. “I mean it,” he emphasizes, “without you, it would’ve all fallen into chaos
by now.”

“I don’t know about that—”

“Take my word for it,” Jimin insists, a soft smile overtaking his features.

His attention is caught when Yoongi walks out from Taehyung’s tent, a familiar book clutched
under his arm as he quickly makes his way to his own, attempting to be discreet and appear
unassuming.

It’s the book on imprinting he carries. Jimin would recognize that worn leather cover anywhere.

When he turns back to the Captain, Namjoon's gaze also seems to be drawn by the book, so much
so that Jimin poses a curious question.

“Did you want to read it?”

The alpha immediately shakes his head, and if Jimin didn't know any better, he'd say he was upset.

“I’ve read it already,” he reveals, Jimin's eyes widening in shock at the confession.

“I thought you said you didn’t know much about it?”

“I don’t,” he agrees, weary hands wiping over his face. “I still don’t, even after reading that book, it
just…it doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t?” he wonders, puzzling over his words when a thought comes to mind. “Why did
you want to read it in the first place?”

Namjoon is silent for several minutes, during which time all manner of thoughts run through
Jimin’s head, questioning if he missed something crucial happening with his guard and good
friend, and the guilt that comes with not paying close enough attention.

After another minute has passed, Jimin places a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer reassurance.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he swears, reaffirming to Jimin that there is something he’s hiding.
Something he’s afraid to talk about.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I know. But I want to, I just...it’s not an easy thing to talk about. Not within our pack, at least.”

Jimin nods in understanding, even if he doesn't know the outlining reason.

Taking a deep breath, the alpha stealthily looks around, searching for potential eavesdroppers.
Finding none, he then begins.

“Not long after I gained my position...something…happened.”

The alpha goes quiet, nervously twiddling his fingers, and Jimin patiently waits for him to
continue.

“I did a headcount and found we were missing one for morning drills, so I went after them, ready to
drag whoever it was back by their ear, if necessary. I just thought they overslept. Happens all the
time, actually. Not this time, though,” he whispers, staring into the flames of the bonfire.

Jimin’s stomach swoops, having a sense as to where this is going.

“When I went back into the barracks, the missing wolf had gone into pre-rut. It was easy to tell,
and a common occurrence. Only...I had a reaction to it.”

“A reaction,” Jimin carefully repeats, watching Namjoon nod.

“I was drawn to his scent. To him. Another alpha.”

Though he suspected, Jimin’s mouth falls open when it’s confirmed, the idea of an alpha being
affected by another alpha is practically unheard of, and worse, in their pack it is not accepted. If
anyone found out, Namjoon could face consequences as serious as being thrown out of the pack.

He looks to Jimin like he expects as much, like he’s waiting for that blow, curling in on himself as
if it could protect him from the hurt of such a thing.

Jimin lets go of a shuddery exhale and slides his hand into the alpha’s, his heart breaking when his
dear friend initially flinches before entwining their fingers once he realizes that that is his
intention.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers. “I’m sorry we have yet to enact more laws and change enough
opinions so you didn’t feel the need to hide this. I wish you could just be.”

Namjoon appears speechless, his mouth wide open.

“You do not find this...strange? Abhorrent?”

“Of course not! What should it matter who you choose to be with, as long as you are happy?”

“I’m not happy,” Namjoon reveals, giving a weary sigh. “We are not together, nor will we ever be,
and neither of us chose this.”

“He doesn’t wish to—"

“We both know it is wrong,” Namjoon interrupts, though his expression is one that Jimin would
describe as wistful.
“How can it be wrong when you imprinted on each other?”

“I don’t know,” the alpha whispers. “But it has to be.”

Jimin stares at the other wolf, eyes narrowing while he thinks.

“It’s Seokjin, isn’t it?”

Wordlessly, Namjoon nods, not even shocked at his easy deduction.

“That’s why he left the barracks.”

“In order to keep anything from happening again, he left,” Namjoon explains.

“Was that his decision or yours?”

“His, but I supported it. If we were discovered, we would both be rogues by now.”

“And if it was allowed?” Jimin asks. “If there were no potential consequences?”

“We can’t live on what ifs,” he murmurs. “And the stigmatism of it is too deeply ingrained in us.
We would never be accepted.”
“It’ll stay that way if we don’t do anything to change it.”

“Jimin—”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but we have to start somewhere.”

“There is no ‘we.' He doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“He doesn't. But not you? You don't mind?"

Namjoon's lips contort into a thin line, and he doesn't answer, as if afraid to admit to such a thing
even to himself, and Jimin tries to press, not wanting Namjoon to feel as if he has to remain in this
hopeless seeming situation.

"Did Seokjin say that? That he doesn't want anyone to know?”

“He didn’t have to,” the alpha huffs, and Jimin feels irritation run through him.

“Yes he does have to. You need to talk to him and hear it from him, otherwise you’re just putting
words in his mouth."

“I genuinely don’t know what good it would do.”

“Well if you read the book, you know the both of you will always be miserable without one
another. No wonder you’re always snapping back and forth, you’re denying your wolves their
mate.”
“Hiding an imprint; which the majority of the pack doesn’t even believe in, is easy. Hiding a
mating mark is not.”

“I’ll enact new laws,” Jimin swears. “I’ll make it so alpha relationships are allowed, and there's
nothing anyone can do.”

“Laws can be changed, opinions that have been ingrained in people's core values for generations
won’t be so easily swayed.”

“Like I said, we have to start somewhere.”

Namjoon takes another deep breath, turning his head in order to look Jimin in the eye, his fingers
giving a squeeze on the hand he still holds, weariness radiating off of him.

"You always did try and make the complicated sound simple, and the impossible possible."

"Sometimes, the idea of something weighs far heavier than the actual solution. So often we remain
comfortable in our restrictions since it is all we know, and doing otherwise can seem pointless, or
insurmountable. I think half the battle is deciding to make a change. It's one of the hardest things
I've ever had to do," he murmurs, turning until his gaze lands on Jeongguk. "But one of the best
decisions I've ever made."

It's quiet for some time, and when Jimin looks back at his friend, he sees Namjoon is already
staring at him.

"What is it?"
 “You may not be high alpha, but you’re one hell of an amazing leader.”

Jimin’s eyes become glassy at his words, smile wobbly to hear such from one he not only admires
and respects, but loves as well.

“A leader is only as good as those he surrounds himself with.”

It’s Namjoon’s turn to smile, and together their eyes find their way back to the dancing flames of
the bonfire, uncertainty looming heavily on their shoulders.

Chapter End Notes

As always, your comments give me life. Thoughts?

 Blood in the Snow
Chapter Notes

Ten chapters in and over 100K, I honestly can't believe I've gotten this far and that you
all have stuck with me. Thank you so much, it means more to me than I can put into
words.

That being said -

WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER

There is a scene that explains the events of what causes Jimin's nightmares, and there's
some disturbing themes involved that aren't stated, but heavily implied. If you have
any concerns, feel free to get in touch with me via comment or twitter

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The smell of the chill in the air seems to ensnare Jimin’s senses in the only way that the scent of
winter can. Crisp and clear, indescribable in nature, yet easily recognizable. He left Namjoon’s side
not a moment before, the alpha seeming to need the space and time alone after such freely given
revelations.

A glance across the bonfire shows that Jeongguk is still detained, Naeri continuing her habit of
talking his ear off, but this time he seems far less accommodating. Though truth be told, he never
did have much to offer her in the way of answers to begin with, the only difference is he wears his
lack of enthusiasm openly, seemingly over his fear of offending anyone in the pack.

Jimin directs a small secret smile the rogue’s way; even if Jeongguk is otherwise preoccupied, and
decides on a walk around camp, hoping to clear his mind before bed. The sounds of the forest
intermingle with the crackling of the fires they’ve set up, the murmurs of his pack members
resembling white noise in the cacophony of the night. And yet, even with all that surrounds him, it
feels unnaturally quiet somehow.
Traversing farther out along the outskirts of their temporary settlement, the noise dies down even
further, and Jimin’s heart nearly leaps from his chest when he feels a weight land on his shoulder,
forcing himself to suppress the cry that wants so desperately to break free until his gaze lands on
large, reddish-pink eyes and snow-white feathers.

Swallowing down his rising panic, he lets out a harsh, weathered breath that has the entirety of his
body sagging in relief, and once calm enough, Jimin aims an endeared smile at the owl.

“Checking up on me, Eunoia?”

She trills at him in answer, feathers ruffled and seeming agitated as she nips and tugs at his hair,
perhaps able to pick up on his mood.

Gently, he runs two fingers down her front, hoping to soothe any anxiety she may have, this new,
unknown place no doubt contributing to her unsurity.

“We won’t go too far,” he promises, continuing on at a slow pace.

The trees here aren’t so tightly packed together the way they are in Soksagim, but they are thick
and more dense the closer he gets to the stream, the sound of running water reaching his ears,
slower with the season.

Likewise, the ground feels unmovable beneath his boots, as even the soil refuses to give with the
drop in temperature, unmalleable, the grass more brittle, while the sounds of branches swaying and
snapping in the breeze lilts all around him, little cues from nature that warn of the coming change.

Jimin looks up just as it begins to snow, likely one of the first snowfalls the plains has seen and
nothing akin to the storms that are common near Hogok Mountain, but a slow descent of small
flakes that seem to float to the ground like feathers, melting before it reaches its destination.
Eunoia burrows into his hair, and Jimin hums when he feels her tiny face press against the side of
his neck in the search for heat, steps cautious as he continues, avoiding fallen debris along the
forest floor.

His movements taper off until he stills entirely, a frown marring his brow in the sudden silence,
unsettling both him and his wolf.

Jimin turns when something crunches underfoot behind him, though he’s too abrupt as he pivots to
confront who or what it could be, nearly losing his balance until strong arms steady him, the
familiar scent of rosemary and cloves reaching his senses now that he is no longer upwind.
Everything inside of him seems to settle at once, Jeongguk’s concerned gaze siphoning out the fear
and adrenaline that had been quickly building, only to replace them with warmth and security.
There are little spots of white dotting the alpha's black hair, getting caught in his long lashes, and
melting on the bridge of his nose, the sight bringing a smile to Jimin's lips.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Jeongguk softly reassures, and Jimin’s own hands come up to
squeeze the alpha’s forearms in reassurance, fingers tracing along the soft wool fabric of his tunic.

“It’s okay. We’re alright.”

“We?”

Jimin doesn’t get the chance to move his hair back in order to show off his stowaway, for at the
sound of Jeongguk’s voice the owl makes herself known, instantly transferring onto Jeongguk’s
shoulder, much to his surprise.

“And where were you two off to?” he wonders, gazing at them both with affection.

“Just out for a walk,” Jimin answers with a grin. “And you? I’m surprised you managed to shake
your previous company.”
At the reminder of Naeri, the alpha’s expression shifts into a frown, one that lines his face in
worried shadows.

“She is rather persistent, and definitely not receptive to social cues,” he grumbles, and though he
tries to be lighthearted about it, Jimin can tell that he’s troubled.

“Should I speak with her?”

Immediately, he shakes his head.

“I’ll wait it out. Eventually, she’ll either give up or speak plainly about her intentions.”

Jimin hums, nodding in easy agreement.

“Do you want to head back?”

He watches the way Jeongguk seems to soften at the question, turning sweet, star-filled eyes
Jimin’s way that always causes his breath to catch, the alpha unaware of his affect on him as he
slowly shakes his head, snowflakes dislodged.

“We can remain a little longer,” he whispers, as gentle and quiet as the wind that rustles through
Jimin’s hair, causing the strands to dance with the snow. “Besides, Eunoia likely wants to hunt.
She’ll have better luck near the treeline, in the open areas just before camp.”

Reluctantly, they release each other, and Jimin turns back to continue the path he started, this time
with Jeongguk at his side. The quiet isn’t so unsettling with company, even more so when it’s
interrupted by the sound of flapping wings, a larger speck of white dotting the sky along with the
falling flakes as Eunoia takes off, rising high above in search of prey.

Every now and then, Jimin imagines he can hear the beat of her wings, carried to him on the
capricious breeze, and when he looks up, she’s there, soaring through the air, hovering before
taking off again, yet always close, as if she’s afraid to lose sight of them.

“Do you think she’ll hate it when we return home?” he wonders, trying to keep track of her
progress, the light of the full moon aiding him.

“I don’t think so,” Jeongguk denies with a small smile. “The forest back home is far more familiar
and vast than this, and she has free reign of it. Lots of open areas to hunt.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Jimin murmurs, stepping over a fallen branch, eyes downcast to make
sure he doesn’t accidently trip over anything. “I’m just—”

“Afraid she’ll move on?” the alpha guesses, and rightfully so.

“I get attached easily,” Jimin admits on a rough exhalation, a truth about himself that he attempts to
hide in the face of others, for fear of it being exploited by those he’s not close with, or doesn’t
trust. “I know it’s selfish, but I would be sad if she did tire of us one day.”

“No one can say what’ll happen,” Jeongguk offers. “I suppose that’s why we’re meant to enjoy the
moment.”

“I don’t like the uncertainty in that,” Jimin mutters almost petulantly, like a child who just learned
how ephemeral life really is.
“I’m afraid that this world is nothing but a series of uncertainties, sweetheart.”

“Yes, but I don’t have to like it.”

“No,” Jeongguk agrees, and when Jimin glances up at him, he’s smiling, “you don’t.”

The sound of Eunoia’s wings once again draws their gazes up, and Jimin beams when he sees she’s
much closer now, what could be a tiny field mouse clutched in her beak as she slowly descends.

The wind picks up again, stronger this time as it whips the snow, along with the silvery-white
strands of Jimin's hair, nearly obscuring his vision, and he brushes them away just as something
cuts through the air, appearing to sing with speed in the quiet of the night.

It’s an arrow.

In an instant, the wind changes, the sudden shift in direction leaving Eunoia at its mercy just as
surely as it saves her, batting her small body away from the arrow’s mark while her feathers fan out
in an effort to retain stability, her high-pitched screech ringing through the night as she seems to
recognize the close call she’s had, and the danger she is in.

“Eunoia!” Jimin cries, and Jeongguk raises his fingers to his mouth to let out a shrill, piercing
whistle.

Immediately she dives down towards them, another arrow missing her by an inch, and Jimin’s
heart lurches into his throat where it is locked away and unable to beat until she reaches them,
flying right into Jeongguk’s open arms as she seems unable to control her trajectory, Jimin’s eyes
are wide and manic while he scans their surroundings, searching for the culprit, but he's pulled
away before he can make anything out, the snowfall picking up.
“Go, into the trees,” Jeongguk commands, shielding Jimin with his own body as they move deeper
into the wooded area, a terrified Eunoia letting out sad, pitiful trills while she tries to calm herself,
Jimin’s own adrenaline making him shake terribly.

They don’t stop until they find a large oak to hide themselves, and even then, Jeongguk seems to
be in a constant state of motion, carefully transferring Eunoia onto Jimin’s shoulder, fingers gentle
with his hair as he conceals her.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay here.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just stay here with her until I return.”

“You must be jesting, I—”

“Jimin!”

He stills, motionless in the face of Jeongguk’s tumultuous emotions, wild in nature, bringing with it
something bright that burns in his eyes, twin flames that he’s witnessed before when he exuded
defiance and anger. It’s the same look he gave that very first day on the snowy floor of Soksagim
forest, staring death in the face, unflinching. Now, however, now there holds just a bit of fear
coalescing with a drive to protect, the color in them no longer dark as the night sky, but
transforming into something else. Something deeper.

“I won’t have you hurt,” he says decisively, like the very idea is unthinkable to him, as if he has
the power to prevent such an outcome. A far cry from the way he seemed so at peace with the
nature of life and all its uncertainties moments before.

“I won’t have either of you hurt. I couldn’t bear it, so please, just...stay here.”

Jimin doesn’t argue, but he also doesn’t agree, and as soon as Jeongguk takes off, he waits but a
moment and then quietly goes after him, tucking his hair more securely around a still frazzled
Eunoia as his heightened vision takes note of uplifted roots and jagged rocks so he can quickly
avoid them as he follows his alpha, keeping him in his line of sight at all times.

Jeongguk is maybe twenty feet ahead of him when he comes out of the trees along the camp’s edge
and into an open clearing with their tents in sight. Someone stands in the middle of it all before
them, a bow in the relaxed grip of their hand, arms loose at their sides.

It’s Eun, so obviously unbothered, with a half-smirk gracing his lips that sets both Jimin and his
wolf on edge.

“Well? Did I get it?” he calls.

Unconsciously, Jimin lowers his head in what could be seen as a timid, subservient gesture, but is
used to allow his hair to fall even further around Eunoia, ensuring that she is completely hidden
from view. After, his eyes narrow, though his emotions are kept locked away behind a mask as
Jimin tries to exude an outward appearance of calm; or as much as he’s able in current
circumstances.

In juxtaposition, Jeongguk is very obviously on the verge of losing control, shoulders heaving,
nails elongating, a menacing, low-timbre growl rumbling past his lips, which curl up in a snarl to
expose the sharpened canines of his teeth. He seems to bow in on himself, almost ready to lower to
the ground in order to pounce, fury radiating off of him like visible waves of heat, the likes of
which, Jimin has never seen.
Before he can lash out, Jimin moves until he stands in front of him, and that steady growl Jeongguk
briefly emitted immediately cuts off as he desperately tries to mitigate the situation.

“What are you doing out here?” Jimin demands of the wolf opposite them, proud of himself that
his voice doesn’t waver.

“I could ask the same of you two,” the other alpha sneers, and it’s likely he either doesn’t recognize
the danger he’s in or chooses to ignore it.

But he would be a fool to underestimate Jeongguk, having been one of the few witnesses to his
prowess in Soksagim Forest.

“Answer me,” Jimin commands, voice low with barely concealed anger.

“I simply wanted to contribute to our growing pile of game. I didn’t know I was aiming at your
pet.”

He spits that last word out derisively, and Jimin fights the urge to reach for Eunoia in response.

Neither one of them have mentioned her, making it very obvious that he knew exactly who he was
aiming at.

“Really?” Jimin wonders, voice still miraculously level. “We hunt Bison tomorrow, and you
thought a small little owl with barely any meat on its bones was worth a walk in the dark when
hunting is not permitted?”

“Every little bit helps,” he answers mockingly, and he can feel the way Jeongguk rages behind him,
a formidable presence at his back begging to be released.
Despite that, Jimin holds firm.

If word got out that Jeongguk started a fight with a member of the pack, it wouldn’t be long before
the rumor morphed into something beyond their control, and others would likely fall prey to such
baseless gossip and turn on him, uncaring of the real reason behind his motives. It's likely the other
alpha knows as much, which would explain why Eun appears to show no fear of repercussions,
despite the strength he witnessed first hand.

He knows he wins if Jeongguk moves first.

“Besides,” Eun continues as these thoughts pour into Jimin’s mind, “you never know what you’ll
find at night. Lots of animals about, as you can see,” he derisively directs Jeongguk’s way, the
alpha’s eyes burning brighter as he once again steps forward, stopped only by Jimin’s hand on his
own, grip desperate.

It seems Eun didn’t account for Jimin, nor did he have the ability to recognize the respect Jeongguk
has for the omega and his wishes, that an alpha would place that above his own desire for revenge
is clearly a foreign concept to him, his own outlook on status his undoing.

Jimin is pack leader, after all, whether he likes it or not, and despite Eun’s newfound confidence in
the face of the rogue, by law, he himself cannot disobey Jimin and have it go unpunished.

“Control your dog,” the alpha calls, a clear attempt to goad, and Jimin sees red.

“Watch your mouth,” he bites back, voice dangerous, body rigid while his wolf itches to shift.

It becomes quiet again, tense, and the only satisfaction he takes is that Eun no longer looks smug,
but furious, his sneer unattractive.

“Go back to camp. And leave the bow along with however many arrows you have. You'll no
longer be needing it since you are to stay in your tent for the remaining duration of the hunt.”

Eun makes no move to obey, nor does he acknowledge the words, the three of them almost locked
in an impasse, until Jeongguk takes another threatening step forward, Jimin releasing his hand in a
clear sign that he’s allowing him to do so, no longer holding him back, as Eun has ignored a direct
order from his leader.

But before Jeongguk can take another step forward, Eun carelessly throws down his bow and
scabbard with a scoff, bowing mockingly at Jimin before taking his leave.

The both of them watch him go until he is but a speck in their vision, their panting breaths far too
loud in the encroaching quiet of the night.

"You should have stayed," Jeongguk whispers, though he sounds far more weary now that the
tension-filled situation has passed.

"And what would you have done if I had?"

"I don't know," the alpha admits in a barely-there voice, still staring after Eun.

Jimin releases another shaky exhale, and it seems to snap Jeongguk out of his trance, turning
sharply until they face each other, his expression; once filled with an animalistic haze, is now
softened and sweet again, concern emanating from him as his hands gently slide over Jimin’s jaw,
his cheeks.
“Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt,” he assures, but he knows he isn’t alright. Nearly witnessing Eunoia’s murder has
left him more than shaken. “I’m worried about her.”

At that whispered confession, Jimin slightly tilts his head, his hair seeming to trickle open on its
own as she shifts silently beneath the strands.

“May I?”

Jimin nods in permission, the alpha’s hands tracing down the slope of his neck until reaching
Jimin’s hair. He pulls the curtain of it slowly to the side, revealing the wide-eyed owl, seemingly
relieved at the sight of Jeongguk, as she hops closer towards him until she lands on his arm.

“And you, little love,” he whispers to her, the barely perceivable sound of his voice overflowing
with emotion. “Are you okay?”

Bringing her closer to his face, Jimin’s heart melts as the owl trills, bumping her head against
Jeongguk’s brow, large round eyes fluttering closed in a sign of trust.

He gives them a moment, tense while his own eyes sweep the area again, hyper aware of every
sound and scent change, jumping even when the wind so much as shifts course.

He’s the one who breaks the silence with their new sobering reality.

“It’s no longer safe here for her.”

“Agreed.”

“Do you think he’ll try again?”

“Tonight wasn’t planned,” Jeongguk reveals as he thinks it through. “Eun was an opportunist,
likely following after the both of you when he saw you slip away. There’s no knowing what they’re
capable of if they actually plot their next attempt.”

“They?”

“I have no doubt he isn’t working alone.”

The air leaves Jimin in a rush before he steals his resolve, already well aware of whom he speaks.

“Doyun.”

“Only time will tell if they’ll amass the courage to try something further.”

Staring at the bonfires in the distance, Jimin suppresses another shiver and steps forward, moving
to collect the discarded bow and scabbard, slinging both over his shoulder.

“We should get back, before they send people to search for us.”

Jeongguk nods in agreement, and carefully, he guides Eunoia onto his shoulder, shaking out his
own long midnight hair so that it hides her from sight as the two of them move in tandem,
approaching the outskirts of camp.
“I’ll speak to Namjoon about what happened, see what he suggests. You should tend to Eunoia,
make sure she calms down.”

The alpha seems reluctant to leave him, but he is well aware that Jimin will be safe with Namjoon,
and Eunoia needs him now.

As soon as they enter their section of camp they part ways, but only after Jeongguk escorts him to
Namjoon’s tent, the guard not yet retired for the night. After retelling the events that transpired and
entrusting him with the bow and arrows Eun was stripped of, the alpha is understandably livid, and
not just with Eun, but also himself.

And Jimin.

“You know better than to wander off like that.”

Jimin knows, but he can never seem to shake the childish urge to argue.

“I just went for a walk to clear my head. I stayed close by, and I wasn’t even the one he was aiming
at.”

“If he was this brazen, it won’t be long before you are.”

“You think—”

“This was a warning. Testing the waters. I just know something is building inside the pack. I can
feel it. Sooner or later, it’s all going to come to a head, and you and your supporters will be the
casualties if we’re not smart about this. That means no more wandering off by yourself,
understood?”

Empathic to Namjoon’s unsettlement, Jimin nods in agreement.

“Good. From now on, we should all travel in pairs. Some of my men whom I trust are here. I’ll tell
them about Eun, have him confined to his tent and put a watch on Doyun. If you go anywhere,
either Jeongguk or I should be with you, understood?”

“Understood,” Jimin agrees again, even if he doesn’t entirely like the idea of losing his
independence, he understands the necessity of it.

“People like them would be happier going back to the way things were, before you’re father.
You're the only thing standing in the way of that.” Namjoon declares, his expression one of
forewarning. “You know this. They know this. If you fall, everything falls.”

He’s been warned of this before, but the words still have an impact, carried by the weight of the
truth they hold.

Jimin nods solemnly, marking the end of their conversation for now, and the alpha quickly escorts
him to Jeongguk’s tent when he requests for him to do so. After seeing Jimin safely inside,
Namjoon takes his leave.

Jeongguk is seated at his makeshift desk, made up of a rickety stool and a decent sized trunk,
which is undoubtedly filled with the clothes he packed for the trip. On top of its surface rests
Eunoia’s house, the wooden opening closed up.

“She seems fine with it, for now,” he offers as Jimin approaches, coming to stand beside him.
“Likely still shaken up. But soon she’ll want her freedom again. She won’t accept being stuck in
here,” he finishes, glancing around the spacious tent.
“After what’s happened; and if tomorrow’s hunt goes well, I don’t plan on remaining much longer.
We’ll have more than enough to return with, and home is still two days away.”

“I think that’s a wise decision. Feels like we’re too exposed out here. Like they’re planning
something…”

“Namjoon thinks the same.”

“Tonight it was Eunoia.”

“Someone you care about.”

“Someone we care about,” Jeongguk corrects, turning to glance up at him from his still seated
position. “Who’s to say who they’ll target next.”

“All we can do is stay vigilant. Stay together. Look out for each other.”

“If they try anything, If they try to hurt you...they’ll find themselves to be the ones who are
hunted,” the alpha swears, eyes burning again as if overtaken with shadows, the stars snuffed out,
and leaving a single flame.

It has Jimin’s skin tingling, a shiver running through his body at the enormity of such a vow.

“It’s l-late,” he stutters, almost too quiet to hear. “We should sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will be the
end of it.”
Jeongguk nods, eyes returning to normal as he does so, a weight seeming to make a home for itself
across his shoulders.

Jimin knows he should leave, head back to his own tent where he belongs. Where he’s expected,
but he just can’t get his feet to move.

“Can I stay here?” he blurts out, cheeks burning. “With you? Can I stay the night here, with you?”
he tries to clarify, wanting to shut his eyes at how truly hopeless he sounds.

The alpha gapes up at him with a wide gaze, pretty bow lips parted and pink in his surprise before
his mouth clacks shut as he nods.

“Of course you can,” he whispers, though it’s filled with conviction. “You always can.”

Jimin releases a grateful breath. He’s become used to sleeping in the alpha’s bed, in the safety of
his arms. He honestly doesn’t think he could sleep without him, though he has no desire to try in
order to find out.

With one last look at Eunoia’s home, Jeongguk rises and quietly takes Jimin’s hands in his.

“Come, we’ll go back to your tent and retrieve your nightclothes along with something suitable for
tomorrow’s hunt.”

Jimin follows by his side, the two releasing each other once out in the open, though no one is
around. Quickly, they pack Jimin’s garments and retreat back to the safety of Jeongguk’s tent, as if
in their adolescent youth, sneaking around so as not to be caught.
There's a shift in mood when they return, a newfound awkwardness coupled with expectancy that
settles an anxiousness in Jimin, nerves predominate.

Unclasping his cloak and carefully folding the heavy fur before setting it aside, the omega
watches, taking note of the way the other wolf attempts to turn in order to preserve his modesty as
he slowly disrobes, but Jimin calls out to him, derailing such a plan.

“Will you help me?”

Jeongguk glances over his shoulder, donning a furrowed brow and clear confusion at the request.
Jimin raises his arms up, eyes sliding over to his nightclothes before finding Jeongguk’s gaze once
more, morphed into parted lips and wide eyes.

“Oh,” the alpha softly exhales, seeming to understand the gravity of what it is he is asking.

Slowly, he approaches him as if measuring each step, hands appearing to tremble when he reaches
for the buttons on Jimin's brigandine and tenuously begins to free them until the leather parts fully,
revealing the soft, white tunic beneath. The brigandine slips from his fingers down to the floor with
the barest of sounds, forgotten as he instead clasps the material of Jimin's tunic in one hand before
the second one follows, meticulously unlacing the top and tugging it free from the waistband of his
breeches, where it was neatly tucked in. Jeongguk carefully guides it up Jimin’s waist, torso, and
then over his head until it finally clears his raised arms.

The tunic shares the same fate as the brigandine.

Jimin shivers from more than just the cold as his chest is made bare, Jeongguk’s hungry eyes
frantically flying over every inch of naked skin, spending countless moments on the act of
reverence until Jimin can't help but preen.
Jeongguk then lowers himself, emulating subjugation, deft fingers working the straps of his leather
boots, loosening each one enough to pull them free of Jimin’s calves, ankles and finally his feet to
join the growing pile of discarded items, his wool socks following. Once that task is done, his
uncertain eyes find Jimin’s in the dim lighting, until they inevitably fall to the front of his pants.

“Please,” Jimin pleads, barely above a whisper, but Jeongguk nods with parted lips and a hitching
breath, those same trembling hands reaching for him again.

Jimin can’t breathe, unable to take his tenuous focus off of the alpha as he pulls free one tie after
the other, the trousers barely able to hang onto his hips the more it's worked, until they threaten to
fall. Jeongguk doesn’t let them, and instead, purposefully drags them down his thighs, passing his
nearly knocking knees, and straight down his calves before lifting each foot so he can free him of it
entirely, leaving Jimin to shiver in just a thin pair of his smallclothes.

The alpha is noticeably faster in redressing him, and Jimin smirks to himself when he realizes it is
highly likely he doesn’t want him to stand in the cold any longer than he has to.

And maybe something else involving an acute fear of losing control.

Maybe.

The silk night clothes are cool against his skin at first. But that’s the thing about silk, it heats up
quickly, taking on his body heat and seeming to retain the warmth. Jeongguk appears fascinated by
the shiny material of it, running his hand along the span of Jimin’s abdomen where it creases,
sending a different kind of heat licking up his spine.

“Soft,” he whispers in observation, fingers getting lost beneath the fabric until they make contact
with Jimin’s bare skin. “But not as soft as you.”

That same heat coils inside of him, unbearable, and before he knows it, he’s reaching out, pulling
Jeongguk forcefully into him, sloppy and uncoordinated as his lips collide with his jaw, searching
until they meet the alpha’s mouth. The kiss is desperate, Jimin’s arms coming up to wrap around
his neck, coiling around him, while Jeongguk’s own wrap around his waist, lifting him even as
their lips slant over each other. Like a flower in bloom, Jimin's thighs open to the rogue to
accommodate his body in between, legs encircling hips, feet interlocking behind.

“Take me to bed, alpha,” he begs, pulling back just enough so that Jeongguk can see the need in
him, the rogue struggling to swallow in the face of it.

“Jimin—”

He trails off, eyes wide and pupils dilated, breathing taxed, the significance and implication of the
request not lost on him, and Jimin’s instincts kick in, rushing to reassure, shushing him as he runs
his hands over his hair, fingers burying in the midnight strands.

“Just wanna feel you,” he promises. “Touch you.”

Jeongguk groans, a deep growling sound that goes straight to Jimin’s core, licking flames along his
nerves, an encompassing need igniting in him as sure as fire.

“We’ve been through a lot tonight,” Jeongguk rushes huskily, those big star-filled eyes shining
brightly up at him, unnamed constellations showing through. “You’re vulnerable. I don’t want to
take advantage—don’t want you to regret anything—”

“It’s you,” Jimin whispers against the alpha’s lips, his voice an emotionally charged thing, like
lighting. “I could never regret anything when it comes to you.”

The seconds after that declaration feel uncertain and beyond the existence of time, as if it holds its
breath, just as invested in the outcome while waiting for the answer to the suspended question.
It happens suddenly, and Jimin isn’t quite sure who moves first, but at once they do; Jeongguk’s
lips overtaking his own, Jimin meeting him with the same ferocity, clinging to the alpha as if
fearful he’ll vanish from his hold. Their bodies sway, Jimin paying it no mind, more captured by
the state of Jeongguk’s tongue lining the already swollen thickness of his bottom lip than he is with
anything else. It isn’t until his world tilts, back hitting something soft and cushioned that he
realizes Jeongguk has brought them to the pallet of furs.

The alpha follows after him, the feel of Jimin's silk nightclothes inching up near his thighs a direct
result of him wrapping his legs around the rogue’s hips, and when he next feels the calloused
fingers of Jeongguk’s hand, it’s on bare skin, sending an almost violent shiver throughout his body,
breath escaping overly loud in the quiet of the tent, their eyes meeting once more.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m burning,” he answers nonsensically, and the responding lust and affection that overtakes
Jeongguk’s features steals his breath away, momentarily forgetting their circumstances.

“Here?” the alpha questions, the gentleness of his hand sliding over his abdomen once more, and
that inner fire rages tenfold, Jimin’s body attempting to curl in on itself as he frantically nods.

“You feel it too?”

Jeongguk’s eyes no longer seem to be that predawn night that Jimin has always compared them to,
instead they appear to bleed, tinted crimson, like a drop of blood in an inkwell, a pivotal point in a
dark abyss.

“Constantly.”

They drink each other in, Jimin unable able to remain still, body nearly undulating in its need,
overcome by the onslaught of mercurial emotions.
“Please,” he begs again, his own eyes imploring. “Please.”

Jeongguk moves then, a small press of his hips, unsure as he observes Jimin’s reaction; which can
be described as nothing short of enthusiastically receptive.

“Please,” he repeats once more, arching up into the alpha and crying out when he feels the thick
rigid line of his arousal pressing against his own, the friction causing his eyes to flutter. “More,” he
demands, overtaken in a way he’s only ever felt in Jeongguk’s presence.

In the corners of his mind, Jimin hears the howling of his wolf, animalistic whines and whimpers
as it scratches and snarls for freedom. But he can focus on that no more as Jeongguk surges
forward, Their bodies emulating the tide, the intimate motion of the moment when the waves kiss
the shore, only to retreat before rushing back in again.

It’s maddening, and Jimin’s body arches off of the pallet, lips permanently parted, eyes wide and
stuck on the folded hide that makes up the tent's roof as his body chases pleasure, unaware that
he’s rambling until Jeongguk lifts his head, bright vermillion staring back, overtaking his irises
while he attempts to soothe.

“Shhh. It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Jimin clings tighter, the alpha an anchor to this world, this moment. They move in tandem together,
that fire brighter and hotter until he’s sure he’ll no longer be able to contain it, that he’ll be
consumed by its flames until nothing of himself remains.

A hand grips the underside of his thigh, traveling up in a searing curve towards the front of his
nightclothes, and Jimin is sure he doesn’t breathe, their gazes locked as that hand gets steadily
closer to where he wants him most, where slick has begun to escape.
“Do you want me to?” The alpha questions, going no further until he receives an answer.

“I want you to,” is the emphatic response he gives without hesitation.

Jimin nearly keens when that hand bypasses his wet opening, only to slip past the silk, nearly
screaming when those calloused fingers encircle his aching cock without barriers, leaking
copiously with his desire.

He’s loud. He knows he is, and Jimin can be nothing but grateful when Jeongguk’s other hand
comes up, covering his mouth in a bid to keep him quiet.

“You’ll wake up the whole camp, sweetheart. Everyone will know what I’m doing to you.”

Jimin cries at the warning, thrusting into the grip that still holds him, while Jeongguk moves
maddeningly over the heated flesh, playing with speed and the tenacity of his hold.

“Or is that what you want?”

Jimin nearly keens once more as if in delicious pain, the idea of others knowing of the exquisite
way in which Jeongguk takes him apart and builds him up again spreads a blush throughout the
entirety of his body,

“I’ll—I’ll be quiet,” he swears into Jeongguk’s palm, lips brushing skin, the humidity of his own
breath bringing moisture, and somehow; though terribly muffled, the alpha is able to make out the
words.

“Are you sure?”

Jimin nods frantically, the hand over his mouth falling away in increments, just as the grip around
his cock disappears, and he sinks his teeth viciously into his lip to hold in a cry of disappointment.
A cry that morphs into a moan when those fingers move between his legs to slip further still,
finally pressing against his slippery hole.

“You’re wet,” Jeongguk growls, Jimin’s eyes rolling up into his head, his body feeling as if it
seizes at the contact, that lightning returning to spread electricity to all of his receptors. “Fuck,
you’re so wet.”

It’s a spoken revelation made in whispered awe, Jeongguk rutting against him in response,
seemingly overwhelmed.

He murmurs something, nearly lost in the sensitive skin of Jimin’s neck, right where he buries his
head over the scent gland. Jimin’s brow creases in confusion, until the words become clear.

“—all for me. Wet all for me.”

It's embarrassing, but at the same time, he revels in his body’s response to the alpha.

His alpha.

“All for you,” he swears, gripping onto Jeongguk’s arms, his shoulders, his hair. Anywhere he can
reach. “All for you, only you.”

“Gods, sweetheart, can I? C-Can—”

“Please,” Jimin begs, the number of times he’s done so remains unknown, and though he does not
know exactly what Jeongguk has in mind, he prays it aligns with what he so deeply desires.

He knows it does when he feels the alpha’s fingers circling his spasming rim, slick running over
the pads of his digits freely in response as they press, adding a mounting pressure that has Jimin’s
body locking up in an arch when one finger finally breaches him, the sensation indescribable in;
and beyond, his current state.

“Relax, sweetheart. Try and relax.”

Jimin nods at the advice, and he’s sure his eyes are open but it’s as if he cannot see. All he can do
is try and calm himself, visualize his muscles relaxing until it becomes reality. Until he can feel the
way Jeongguk’s finger glides easier inside of him without resistance, reaching deep enough to have
his toes curling into the backs of Jeongguk's still clothed thighs.

“Are you alright? Are you with me?”

“I’m with you,” Jimin promises, though he's not entirely sure himself.

Jeongguk’s fingers are long, and the one inside of him brushes something that has Jimin seeing
stars, like the very same ones he maps in Jeongguk's eyes, little bursts of light erupting across his
vision, colors he couldn’t describe following after.

“J-Jeongguk?”

“I know, love. It’s okay.”

When it gets to be too much for Jimin to regulate the noises escaping consecutively, Jeongguk
presses their lips together once more, swallowing the sounds and absorbing them into himself, all
the while that finger picks up a maddening pace, brushing against that spot over and over again.

Jimin isn’t sure how much time passes, tracking it in the steady progression of the way he seems to
fall apart, body trembling, teeth nearly clacking as he shivers, though the cold has long since been
driven away by the combined heat of their bodies rocking against one another.

Just as soon as Jimin is sure he cannot take anymore, he feels a second finger teasing at his rim,
and he scrabbles over Jeongguk’s loose tunic, fighting to get to skin, nails scratching across his
shoulder blades when that second digit enters alongside the first.

They move inside the way Jeongguk thrusts against him, matching the pace, simulating sex in an
almost obscene way. The visual of the alpha's hand between his legs; delving inside of him brings
Jimin’s arousal to a head, that spot relentlessly abused, producing more slick as a consequence, the
sounds it makes bringing a blush to Jimin's cheeks, Jeongguk’s grip a tenuous thing.

“I...I’m—”

Jimin's head lolls, and Jeongguk is right there, back at his neck.

"Teeth," he growls into the skin, while said teeth nip and scrape at his flesh. " Hurts. Wanna bite."

The revelation should be a sobering one. Jeongguk can't bite him. Not here. They're not safe here,
and taking on a mating bite would leave both of them in a vulnerable state. It's too dangerous for
that.

Jimin should say as much, but he's too enraptured in the moment to think about long term
consequences. The only thing he knows—that he's sure of—is he wants that claim. His wolf wants
that claim, another rare agreement between the two of them.
Jeongguk seems too far gone as well, those tender words of instruction he freely gave earlier no
longer forthcoming. No more relax, sweetheart, I’m here. Instead he is answered with grunts and
growls, the speed of his fingers and hips alike almost brutal in nature as Jeongguk scents him,
elongated canines once more testing the give of his skin, right over his scent gland, right over the
very spot a mating mark would be enacted.

Jimin feels adrift, his anchor securing him in place no more, just as untethered as he is. As the heat
inside of him peaks, the alpha forcefully rips away from his neck, lifting up until they’re able to
gaze into each other’s eyes, and it is impossible not to be frozen still by what he sees overtaking
that dark abyss.

Crimson.

Jeongguk's eyes practically bleed.

There's raw emotion that greets him head on, unashamed. Though just beyond the haze of pleasure
and instinct, something sparks in Jeongguk's gaze, and Jimin recognizes his sweet gentle
disposition past the concupiscence, returning hand in hand with his attenuated control.

“Let go, love. You can let go.”

It’s all Jimin needs to hear, a feeling of warm safety enveloping him just as real as Jeongguk's
embrace. Jimin gives himself over to the feeling completely, and subsequently, to his alpha.

His body convulses just as those fingers press and still on that spot inside, wracked with wave after
wave of intense pleasure, releasing the culmination of their passion onto the equally heated skin of
his belly, ropes and ropes of white, the silk of his nightclothes made damp from it all and tacky, a
vague irritation in the face and aftermath of such mind numbing ecstasy.

Jimin can’t breathe, chest heaving as he tries to get enough air, and it is with wide eyes that he
watches the rogue above him shiver violently, caught in the height of his own release, nails
elongated, canines sharp, body taut like a bowstring as he finds surrender in it, even as he
purposefully attempts to keep himself as far from Jimin's neck as he can.

Despite that, their hands find each other first as they both come down, fingers intertwining,
followed next by lips, and then it is too impossible to discern their individual forms, seemingly
melded together by the fire that overtook them both, like two stars who burned too bright, streaking
across the night sky before blinking out.

The tent is filled with their exerted breathing, intermingled with both low and high-pitched hums,
stuttering sounds that catch in the back of their throats. It feels too loud in the quiet, too obvious,
and Jimin is sure someone will complain come morning.

Not that he particularly cares in this moment.

They’re both slow to calm, their eyes finding each other as they attempt to do so, Jeongguk turning
them onto their sides at some point, gentle in his repositioning, studying Jimin’s face for
discomfort as he first removes his fingers from the clutch of his body, and then pulls his hand free
from his ruined nightclothes.

Time moves slowly, and Jimin’s eyes flutter when the alpha seems to become entranced with his
neck again, thumbing over his scent gland gently in a sweet repetitive motion.

“You didn’t bite me,” he murmurs, voice shot as he smiles, remembering that had been a major
worry of the alpha’s, that he would not be able to control himself.

“I wanted to,” he easily admits as if it wasn't already known, and he still trembles from the restraint
he exerted. “It killed me not to. Fuck, Jimin, I thought I was losing my mind.”

That admission pleases him to hear, settling something in him that longs for praise and
reassurance.
“You were magnificent,” Jeongguk carries on, as if he senses as much, and it's more than likely
that he does, the connection between them stronger than Jimin remembers. “Gorgeous. The way
you got lost in it...I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.”

He scents him then, and Jimin’s wolf whimpers inside, the duality of his nature baring their neck to
the alpha, as rosemary and cloves meet petrichor and polianthes, the nebulous mix heady and
strong, like fog in the early morning hours, shielding them from the world.

It feels too soon when Jeongguk pulls away, and Jimin panics a bit, only to be soothed again at
once.

“I’m just getting something to clean us up with, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

Jimin resettles into the furs at the promise, watching when Jeongguk divests himself of his tunic
first, the corded muscles of his back on display, golden skin interspersed with a few scars, but still
flawless in Jimin’s admittedly biased opinion. The alpha unlaces his breeches next, and Jimin’s
breath quite literally leaves him as the rest of his body is revealed, more so when he turns back
towards him in search of something, and Jimin finally gets to study him unobstructed.

He’s…

Jimin doesn’t think there’s a word in his language that could do him justice. Jeongguk is without
compare. And it’s more than just his beauty, or his physical features or characteristics. More than
just the way his muscles flex when he moves or the perfection of his anatomy. It’s his aura and
how he carries himself, his manner and gentle disposition. The little things along with the larger
than life aspects of his personality.

He’s everything Jimin could ever want.

Jeongguk wets a rag in the makeshift basin, wiping it over his body where sweat and his release
dries on his skin, washing himself before discarding it, wetting a second rag and approaching the
pallet where Jimin rests, still affected by the sight of him, now glistening with drops of water,
slowly tracing the indentations of taut flesh.

He reaches out for the cloth, but Jeongguk pointedly ignores his hand, Jimin’s cheeks heating when
the alpha carefully climbs up his body and tentatively reaches for his nightclothes, eyes seeking his
as he makes no move to remove them.

He’s waiting for permission.

Jimin gives it with a small nod, holding his breath at first while he’s carefully maneuvered into a
seated position, arms raised above his head in order to lift the garment, revealing Jimin’s chest to
the cold night air for the second time, the tent warm, but the lingering chill refusing to dissipate.
He’s gently laid back down again, swallowing around the lump in his throat while the alpha’s hand
travels to the waistband of his thin smallclothes, fingers slipping inside to grip the material before
slowly urging them down, Jimin lifting his hips in an effort to make the removal easier, until he is
left bare to the alpha’s gaze.

For a moment the only part of Jeongguk that moves are his eyes, drinking Jimin in like a man
dehydrated, a flush taking over the majority of Jimin's skin over the attention, waiting for
something to happen. The alpha inhales another deep breath and goes about his original task; albeit
with shaking hands, taking the wet rag and using it to clean over Jimin’s skin, eliciting shivers as
the cold damp fabric wipes away the evidence of his climax, along with the viscous-like slick that
marks his arousal, liberally coating his inner thighs and between his cheeks.

Jeongguk disposes of the rag after determining him clean, and moves to retrieve a soft pair of wool
trousers for himself, as well as a long thick tunic for Jimin that nearly has him swimming in it, the
material warm, though the best part is that it smells of the alpha’s familiar scent, as if he wore it
recently.

After they’re dressed—to a degree—they settle back into the furs, the smell of their coupling still
heavy in the air, and Jimin revels in it, even more so when Jeongguk pulls him in, wrapping him up
in his arms.
“How do you feel,” he whispers in his ear, and Jimin trembles with sensitivity, smiling when
Jeongguk tightens his hold in response.

“I feel...serene,” he murmurs, beaming when he can clearly feel the alpha smile against his neck.

“That’s quite the compliment, sweetheart. Especially in these trying times,” Jeongguk hums,
pleased, and he can’t see the way Jimin’s grin turns devious.

“You fucked the stress out of me.”

“Jimin!” he exclaims, sounding scandalized, and he makes such a performance out of it that Jimin
can’t help but giggle. “You are crude.”

“I apologize. After what you just did to me, I didn’t realize you were so innocent.”

“Well, aren't you crass after you come.”

“I think you need more evidence to support that claim,” Jimin whispers suggestively, suddenly
finding himself positioned on his back, a very worked up alpha leaning over him, gaze intense.

It's quiet for a moment, until Jeongguk seems to come to a decision.

“You’re tired,” he decides after searching Jimin’s features, “otherwise I would take you again. And
again.”
Jimin’s teeth sink into his bottom lip at such a promise, and the air changes when Jeongguk’s
finger gently pries it free, a look of tenderness overtaking him.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

Another finger twirls the silvery-white strands of his hair around it, and Jimin glows in the face of
such honesty.

“I assure you, the feeling is very much mutual.”

Jeongguk’s finger gently slips free from his hair, and he leans down to place a chaste kiss to his
swollen lips, emotion seeming to well up in his expression before he encourages them to settle.

“Sleep,” he murmurs. “Tomorrow will be difficult.”

Jimin is already halfway there, so he doesn’t argue. Instead, he grips the alpha a little bit tighter,
and allows his body to simply drift away.

________________

Sound disappears.

It’s as if Jimin exists in a vacuum where not even the ringing in his ears is discernible. He’s
surrounded by a crowd, encircling him in a perfect sphere, the likes of which resembles a sea of
bodies as far as the eye can see.
But it’s not him they’re looking at, but rather, what lies at his feet.

First there is snow, and then there is blood. And above it all, lies the motionless body of a black
wolf.

Jimin kneels before it, lowering himself until his knees press into the untouched powder, though he
doesn’t feel it, not the cold of it, nor the wetness that should be seeping into his clothes.
Emboldened, he touches the pitiful creature, mouth warbling as soon as he makes contact, the feel
of the animal still warm, the blood still hot. It covers his hands, sticky as it dries quickly, matting
the creature's fur when he pets over it, tears tracing the curves of his cheeks.

Jimin wants to scream, but someone beats him to it, sound heightened in its reappearance, almost
too much to bear, a grimace overtaking his features.

But the worst part…

The worst part is when he opens his eyes—

Everyone is staring at him . Not in accusation, but in sadness and grief, a kind of dispondance
taking over the crowd as they wail, and Jimin sitting in the middle of it all with blood on his hands,
shaking the still wolf as unintelligible words escape past his lips.

Arms wrap around his midsection, and Jimin fights as he’s lifted and pulled away from the scene,
the sound of an infant screaming following him beyond—

“—okay. It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here.”

Jimin’s eyes blink open, disoriented as he takes in the dark, vision adjusting in increments, body
going lax as the sound of a pitiful cry tapers off, and he realizes it's coming from his own mouth.
Jeongguk peers down at him from above, rubbing his back but giving him space.

“J-Jeongguk?”

“It’s me, love. I’m with you.”

In a rush of relief, Jimin heaves a sigh and clings to him as the last vestiges of the nightmare leaves
him, finding solace in his mate's arms from the disturbing imagery his dreams find pleasure in
plaguing him with.

The alpha rocks him, whispering words of comfort and reassurance, fingers running through the
tangled strands of his hair, soft kisses placed at his temple until Jimin can both physically and
mentally feel himself begin to relax.

Eventually, those soothing words trail off, the rocking slows until it transforms into a state of
stillness, the two of them wrapped up in each other, back to chest, the pace of their breathing
perfectly matched, though Jimin still trembles at the sensation of fingertips swirling patterns over
his bare skin.

The sound of Jeongguk’s voice cutting through the quiet comes as a surprise, the reality beyond
the far-from-solid walls of the tent forgotten, creating a bubble that feels as if they’ve made a
world just for them.

“What do you dream about?”

The alpha has asked that particular question before, though Jimin didn’t feel quite ready to answer
him then. He’s not sure if he’s ready now, but despite that, the desire to share that which haunts
him outweighs his trepidation to do so. Encircling his fingers around Jeongguk’s wrist to ground
himself, eyes squeezed tightly shut at the thought of what he’s about to speak of, he gathers
courage.
It isn’t easy, but it is necessary.

“It’s a long story,” he warns, knowing that he’s buying time, but Jeongguk is nothing if not gentle
and reassuring.

“I want to hear it, whenever you’re ready to tell me.”

Jimin is ready. Ready in the sense that he needs Jeongguk to know him like no one else does, no
secrets.

“I’ve had them for as long as I can remember,” he whispers, grip tightening. “When my mother
found out, she told me it was because I saw something when I was a pup that I shouldn’t’ve seen,
something no child should, but she refused to tell me what it was.”

Taking a deep, settling breath, he continues.

“It wasn’t until after she passed that I put the question to my father, and he told me what happened.
Before he became high alpha, there was another. He went by Chulseok,” he reveals, voice
wavering slightly, even though he can hardly remember the man’s face. “Chulseok seemed to revel
in cruelty and the suffering of others. He killed so many of our own, that it is said that before the
end of his reign he cut our numbers by half.”

There’s an indrawn breath behind him from Jeongguk at the claim, and Jimin waits a moment
before pressing on.

“My people were already reeling and attempting to recover. You see, before alliances were forged
with the surrounding packs in our territory, there was decades of war, innumerable casualties and
death. As such, alphas were valued more, if only to brand them as future soldiers to be sent into
battle. Because of that need for capable fighters, omegas were seen to be inferior,” he spits out, still
angry and bitter over a mindset that his pack has yet to shake, even after all the work they’ve done
to try and ensure as much.

“Of course, we were never given the opportunity to prove ourselves either way, it was simply
decided for us. The situation became so dire and abhorrent, that it was seen as a shameful failure to
even birth an omega pup, and it wasn’t unheard of for my subgender to be mistreated, abandoned,
or worse.

“As a consequence, after all the fighting had ceased and things settled, the number of alphas far
surpassed that of the number of omegas. Birth rates declined significantly, and our pack was dying
out, successful pregnancies rare. Namjoon believes that is why we did away with such things like
imprinting, too desperate to hold onto it when faced with our pack's imminent fate. When the then
newest generation came of age; that of my parents, something changed. Haneul; the healer assigned
to my father, claims it was because enough time had passed that the pack was no longer under a
constant state of stress that comes with the instability of war, and as such, more pups were born,
more pregnancies were carried to term and successful.

“For a time things went well, everything was quiet. Then one day, Chulseok called the pack just
outside of what was then the Great Lodge, and he demanded that those who had pups in the last
five summers to come forward. I don’t remember much from that day, still too young, but I can
remember the cold. The fresh snow biting into my skin, and the fear in my mother’s eyes as she
stepped from the crowd, and the way my father gazed helplessly after us. Of those gathered, there
were many who stepped forward that day.

“Chulseok separated us again with the demand of alpha children to the left, and omegas to the
right. It wasn’t until he was pressured by the anxiety of the crowd that he spoke of his reasoning,
since as head alpha there was nothing anyone could do but obey, and of that he was well aware and
found pleasure in exploiting. He said that us omegas were to be separated from our parents, our
households, and would go with him to live inside the Great Lodge. As for the alpha children, in his
words, they would be culled.”

Jeongguk’s arms tighten around his waist, body tensing in a telling way when he whispers, “What
did he plan to do with you and the other omega pups?”

Jimin's chest tightens, and his lungs feel as if they contract painfully before answering.
“I think you already suspect...”

It’s quiet for another moment, Jeongguk seeming to tremble behind him before Jimin squeezes his
arm in what little comfort he can offer in the face of such things, and continues.

“Nobody said anything,” he murmurs, still in shock over the fact. “Nobody intervened. Not even
my own parents. They were all too scared to do anything. He was the high alpha. Leader of the
pack, and as such, my parents were prepared to hand me over to a known monster. They all were.
Except one,” he reveals, taking another necessary breath in an attempt to steady himself.

“An alpha wolf that refused to give up his own pup, officially challenged Chulseok for the right to
lead. But the head alpha didn’t fight fairly in accordance with our traditions, and the only wolf
brave enough to stand up was killed right in front of us. It’s because of him that others rebelled,
spoke up and turned against the mad alpha. It’s because of him that we’ve been able to make a
change, and that my fate; and that of so many others, were saved. But every night, I dream of it. Of
his death. I’m haunted by it," he whimpers. "Of blood in the snow."

His breathing is heavy and labored by fragmented memories, lids sliding closed as he swears he
hears the screams from that day, can smell the nauseating copper in the air from the spilled blood
—

But beneath that, the scent of rosemary and cloves strengthens, Jeongguk’s face burrowing into the
side of his neck as he releases soothing pheromones, Jimin’s lids fluttering in response once he
allows himself to be calmed, lulled. It feels peaceful here, the sensation overriding those
unpleasant emotions that come with reliving such events, of telling that part of his story, the alpha
always managing to make everything better.

"What happened after," Jeongguk murmurs, and even he sounds emotional.

“After that, I’m told Chulseok felt the pack’s combined rage for the first time, his dishonor and
brutality stirring a rebellion. He sent everyone away, the pups included. My father challenged him
the next day, and won, prepared for Chulseok’s unfair tactics after what everyone had witnessed
the previous day. After he became head alpha, there was a kind of golden age, as we referred to it.
New pups were born, our numbers steadily recovered. People felt safe again, but there were; and
still are, those who remain stuck in the past. Those who put more value on alphas than omegas.
And for all the good my father did in trying to change that, not even he was infallible. After all, the
head alpha is in need of an alpha heir,” he finishes, bitterness seeping from his tone.

Jeongguk pulls him close once more, those soothing pheromones returning, and Jimin sinks into
his body as if he could be engulfed, like one would be when slowly walking down the sloped bank
of a riverbed, waiting for the water to take them.

“Thank you for telling me,” Jeongguk’s deep, affected voice whispers in gratitude. “I know it
wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” Jimin agrees, deciding to put voice to an earlier thought, needing to be honest. “But
you made it easier than it ever has been. I don’t want there to be secrets between us. I want you to
know me. Everything there is, the good and the bad.”

It feels like a confession in itself, profound and telling of the relationship he wants, and what he
hopes Jeongguk wants as well.

The sound of birdsong reaches his ears then, piercing his thoughts, interrupted by softly spoken
words just as realization hits.

“Jimin...there’s something—”

“It’s dawn!”

“Hmm?”
 “The birds. It’s dawn.”

Sending a look over his shoulder, he meets Jeongguk’s wide eyes, gaze turning frantic as they both
are aware of what that means.

Jimin’s not supposed to be here.

They spring up and vacate their pallet of furs, Jeongguk helping him to dress as quickly as he can,
lacing up his trousers as well as his boots, the omega deciding to keep the alpha’s tunic in place of
his own, covering it with his cloak while Jeongguk makes quick work of his hair, doing what he
can with his fingers in substitute of a comb.

Jimin holds his hands out at his sides, as if to say ‘how do I look,’ sighing at the smug expression
Jeongguk gives him before moving to the opening of the tent, only to be pulled back into a kiss that
he can’t help but melt into.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” he promises against his lips, one that Jimin gladly returns.

“Soon,” he swears, and with that, he slips back out into the cold, pulling the cloak tighter around
himself as he makes his way to his own tent.

Chapter End Notes

Everyone can say thank you to Juls for sending me a picture of Jungkook wearing red
eye contacts, which made me HAVE TO include it in this chapter, how could I not?
 The Hunt
Chapter Notes

This story is nearly a year old, I can't believe it. Thank you for all the amazing and
lovely comments and kudos, along with the support this has received.

We're nearly there

‼️ Also, now might be a good time to go over the tags again ‼️

Jimin lingers just outside of camp while he waits for the horses to be saddled; the surrounding area
bustling with constant movement and noise. It's as his gaze wanders that he feels the familiar heat
of a body brush against his own, a smile playing at his lips in response to the scent that follows.

Being away from Jeongguk, even for just a short while, is…

Not ideal.

But when they are allowed to reconnect, it feels pivotal and verklempt, even more so since being
intimate.

As if privy to his thoughts, Jeongguk poses a question, whispering it directly into his right ear
while the tip of his nose traces along the delicate shell.

“Are you sore?”

“What,” he exclaims, sudden and obvious, eyes wide, cheeks heated before remembering himself,
lowering his voice substantially when he answers the inquiry. “No, there isn’t—I’m not sore,” he
murmurs, fighting to quell his obvious embarrassment.

The alpha sounds entirely too pleased with himself when he responds, pointedly eyeing a nearby
saddled mare.

“You will be.”

Discreetly elbowing him, Jimin smirks at the exaggerated grunt he receives, turning to beam up at
the other wolf.

“And what of you?”

“What of me?” the rogue wonders, a glint in his eye that is far from innocent.

“Are you sated after last night?”

When Jeongguk gazes down at him, the look he wears evokes a shortness of breath in Jimin he is
all too familiar with, his lungs shuddering along with the rest of his body.

“If you think I could be sated after just one night with you, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I only
crave you more now. I want more of you. With you. I want everything.”

They openly stare at one another, two still figures in a chaotic crowd, and Jimin is quite sure that
his heart seizes, features softening.
“Everything?”

“Everything,” Jeongguk confirms without hesitation, and Jimin shivers, his omega pleased.

“Everything that I am already belongs to you,” he whispers, and the confession has such a
profound effect on the alpha it’s truly a sight to behold.

Jeongguk shakes himself, midnight locks framing his face, pretty curls at the end, and Jimin grins
at the obvious way he tries to regain control, clearing his throat repeatedly and hiding what
emotions he can behind a fragile mask.

“We should not speak of this here. I am likely to do something I shouldn’t.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Jimin quavers in a higher pitch, long lashes fluttering, and
delights in the way Jeongguk seems to unravel at the words.

“Jimin.”

It’s spoken as a warning, but it only makes the omega smile brighter.

“You brought it up,” he shrugs in response, not-so-secretly pleased with his ability to make the
rogue squirm.

“Perhaps you could bring up something else then, sweetheart.”

The endearment never fails to release butterflies in his stomach, the sensation of hundreds of
flapping wings have the elated effect of making him feel light. Free. Like he could float up from
the very ground itself.

“How’s Eunoia doing?”

The mood shifts instantly, the affection both of them have for her sombering them.

“She’s sleeping. Has been since the incident. It took a toll on her.”

“I can imagine. She’s so tiny.”

“Small but strong,” Jeongguk assures, clearly attempting to assuage his worries before his voice
hardens with his next question. “And what of our would be murderer?”

Jimin's eyes automatically flit in the direction where Eun is being held.

“Namjoon has two men assigned to his tent, and they'll ensure that he stays put.”

“I suppose that’s one of them subdued, for now.”

“We’ll see what happens with the other,” Jimin intones, gaze searching for Doyun this time, but
unsuccessful in locating him. “We just need to get through today. If the hunt goes well, we leave at
first light.”

“It will go well,” Jeongguk swears, as if he could make it so with the simple act of declaring it, and
Jimin wants so desperately to believe it that he repeats the words beneath his breath.
“My lord,” Yoongi greets, suddenly before them, effectively interrupting his anxiety-riddled
thoughts, and Jimin's gaze slides down, observing that he holds the lead of a smaller gray painted
stallion with a white mane that follows at his side. “I’ve readied a horse for you. We should be
leaving soon.”

Jimin can’t help but frown, trying to curb his disappointment.

“Jeongguk can have this one, I plan to ride Bongcha.”

“Bongcha? I haven’t seen her my lord,” Yoongi admits, a crease forming in Jimin’s brow as they
both look up and down the line.

“No?” he murmurs, slightly confused. “Perhaps she’s been chosen to pull one of the carts, then,”
Jimin decides, accepting the lead. “He’ll do nicely, thank you.”

Yoongi nods, directing Jeongguk away and towards another steed, but not before the alpha
surreptitiously squeezes his hand, the two of them leaving him to get acquainted with the
unfamiliar horse he’s been given, and he can’t help but feel awkward.

“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t good enough, or make you feel inadequate in any way,” he
hums, petting along the horse’s neck, the stallion jerking back at first before calming as Jimin
soothes him. “I’m sure you’re lovely.”

A snort and a nudge is his only response, to which Jimin murmurs, “Fair,” and moves to gracefully
gain the saddle.

When he looks back, Jeongguk sits atop an elegant Frisian with coloring that could be a match for
the alpha's own hair and cloak. They look as if they were made for each other, and Jimin can't help
but admire the duo, along with the way the light seems to shine on them just right.

Jeongguk looks transcendental, with a numinous beauty he’s never before seen, as if he is one of
the gods of old, his striking figure meant to make believers of men—

“Your mouth is hanging open.”

Jimin startles, having been unaware of Taehyung’s close proximity, the other omega sat atop a
chestnut-colored thoroughbred that nearly brushes sides with his own. Masking his expression as
best he can, Jimin shrugs and turns towards the other omega, eyeing the weaponry in his hands.

“Do you have something for me?” he wonders with one raised brow, the other grinning in
response.

“Now that you mention it.”

Taehyung hands over his bow and quiver, stocked with plenty of arrows, and Jimin accepts it
gratefully. He ties the strap over his shoulder so that it crosses down his torso, the bow following
close behind and positioned for easy retrieval. Hunting bison in wolf form is too much of a risk,
especially when given the potential numbers of the herd and the well known difficulty it poses to
take one down without sustaining injury. Instead, they’ll take the high ground and try to maintain a
safe distance while utilizing ranged weapons.

“You look ill at ease.”

“Nerves,” Jimin admits, shaking out his fingers, the digits gone numb with how tightly he grips the
reins.
Taehyung nods in understanding, the two of them quiet for a time as they observe other members
of the pack readying themselves.

The hunting party is significantly larger this time as every wolf is directed to a singular destination
to the south. They have had experience with bison before, and are aware first hand of how
notoriously dangerous they are, and though easy to track, their numbers and the sheer size of them
can; and have, proven to be fatal for some of the pack in the past. As such, even Hoseok will be
accompanying them on the excursion as a precautionary measure.

Everyone will have to do their part.

There’s shouts and whistles that ring out down the line, men and women proclaiming their
readiness to begin the day’s journey. Jimin receives a signal from Namjoon and sends one back in
return, and with that, the line starts moving, a slow steady pace to begin the ride ahead.

Yoongi takes position at the front, the tracker on point with a few other men that Jimin recognizes
as fellow soldiers. Namjoon in turn takes up the rear, and Jeongguk holds a place close to the
middle of the group, very near to both Jimin and Taehyung but giving them their privacy.

They maintain a relaxed pace, knowing that if they ride too hard it’ll tire the horses too fast, the
wagons meant to carry the meat back won’t be able to keep up, and it’ll alert the herd to their
presence when they close in. As such, Jimin is able to comfortably engage Taehyung in
conversation to help mitigate the boredom.

“So...”

“So?”

“I saw Yoongi with the book.”

“What book is that?” Taehyung wonders, bringing a frown to Jimin’s features.

“Are you being deliberately obtuse?”

“Yes.”

“Did he read it?”

“Twice, at least.”

“And?”

Taehyung shrugs as if it’s inconsequential.

“And I’m giving him some time, so that he may gain perspective and come to terms with what he
wants or doesn’t want on his own.”

“And how is that going?” Jimin presses again, frustrated with the omega’s stilted answers and
knowing him well enough to recognize that it comes from a place of doubt and a lack of
confidence, as well as feigned nonchalance in an attempt to hide both.

“He claims he doesn’t want time, but he’ll have it anyways.”

Jimin can’t help but laugh then, holding onto the reins with one hand while clutching his
midsection with the other. When he looks up, Jeongguk is smiling softly at him from over his
shoulder, clearly drawn by the sound. The interaction lasts but a moment before the alpha turns
back around in order to pay attention to where he’s going, but it’s long enough to heat up Jimin’s
cheeks again, and internally he curses himself for being so easily effected, and obviously so.

He physically shakes himself and focuses back on the conversation at hand.

“So you’re making him wait?”

“Of course I am. I won’t go through another repeat of what happened the last time. He has to be
sure that this is what he wants. That I’m what he wants.”

“Of course you are,” Jimin conciliates, desperate to subdue his dear friend’s worries. “How could
you not be?”

“He’s cast me aside before,” Taehyung mutters, keeping his eyes on the path ahead.

“He thought he was taking advantage of you.”

“And refused to listen to my side of things.”

Jimin concedes that point and nods in agreement, sighing at the tribulations the two have gone
through.

“I know your history hasn’t been easy for you. But do you feel better about things now as they
stand? Hopeful maybe?”
Taehyung takes a moment to answer, thinking it through, and Jimin witnesses the way the tension
seems to melt off of him, more comfortable when he replies.

“Even before the book he seemed to be coming around. He made an effort to be near me as much
as he could, with offers to provide assistance, but it was easy to see right through that. I could
recognize the longing in him. We became...closer during preparations for this journey, and when I
mentioned the book to him, he was genuinely curious and excited to read it. I think, perhaps, he
does have some feelings for me.”

Jimin directs a soft smile Taehyung’s way, the insularity in his expression breaking his heart.

“I think he does,” he agrees. “I told you I see the way he looks at you when your gaze is elsewhere.
He cares for you.”

“He’ll spend time proving it to me before he receives my answer.”

“I have every confidence that he will,” Jimin admits with a gentle smile, hoping that it sets the
other omega at ease and imbues him with confidence.

Taehyung’s cheeks turn pink, though he gives a half-hearted shrug before quickly changing the
subject, the attention on his own personal matters seemingly too much.

“I heard about what happened with Eunoia. What are you going to do?”

Jimin sighs at the reminder, along with the return of the unshakable anxiety that comes with issues
that offer only complicated solutions.

“Eun is confined for now, and Namjoon has other men keeping a discreet eye on Doyun. All I can
do is wait. See if they try anything else.”

“We shouldn't even allow them the opportunity. They ought to be cast out from the pack.”

“Doyun has yet to do anything so openly besides be argumentative, and not everyone would agree
with such drastic measures on account of an owl.”

“Then they can be cast out as well.”

“Would that I could. There seems to be a growing divide in the pack, and as such, I’d prefer not to
give any other members a reason to see merit in the opposing side. It would be far too easy for Eun
to convince those who weren't there that what happened was not done intentionally or with
malice.”

“You’re right,” he acquiesces, though he’s clearly displeased about it. “This is escalating faster
than I thought, though. I fear it’s all culminating into something we cannot stop.”

“I share the same fear,” Jimin admits. “When he did it, Eun made no attempts to hide his identity.
He openly met us just outside of camp after attempting to shoot Eunoia down. No feigned
apologies or even convincing lies. He was smug about it. And the way he spoke to Jeongguk…”

“They would not be so bold if we were home.”

“I thought so too,” Jimin admits. “But I wonder if that will remain so after this, or if they will just
become more reckless.”

“They would be foolish to try anything. The soldiers remain both loyal to you and your father. If
there is a coup, it would lack numbers.”
Jimin’s gaze slips to Jeongguk’s back, remembering him the way he was that day in the forest,
when he first laid eyes on the alpha. The strength and cunning he exuded when confronted.

“Numbers aren’t always everything,” he whispers, breath shuddering.

“They aren’t,” Taehyung agrees. “But when it comes to the skill of the men on your side, versus
those that appear to oppose you, I’d bet on our side any given day.”

Jimin can’t help but smile at that, grateful to Taehyung and his easy rapport on the topic. It helps to
put him at ease. Gives him a sense of relief that he so desperately needs in these trying times.

The conversation dies out for but a moment before the other omega speaks up again, and already
by the tone of his voice, Jimin knows this will not go well for him.

“So...after the horrible events that took place last night...did you maybe decide to release some
tension?”

Jimin turns to him with raised brows, genuine confusion written in his features until Taehyung
pointedly looks at him and adds, “with Jeongguk, perhaps?”

“Oh fuck.”

“Is that what you were doing?”

“No! Gods—”
“I don’t think the gods would want to be brought into this,” Tae mutters, surreptitiously eyeing
Jeongguk’s back.

“How did you even—”

“Tents aren’t exactly walls, Jimin. And you’re a bit...loud.”

“Fuck,” Jimin hisses again, mortified, his face on fire. “Did everyone else hear us? Namjoon?
Yoongi?”

“Yoongi made no mention of it to me, not that he would, I suppose. And I have yet to see Namjoon
act in a manner that reveals he knows anything. Don’t forget they’re soldiers. Early to bed, early to
rise and all that,” he mutters, as if the idea is distasteful.

Jimin almost gives into the urge to seek out Namjoon down the line. He wants to see the look in his
eyes, and then he’ll know for sure, but he quells that idea, attempting to take in big, gulping breaths
in order to calm himself.

“So you...heard.”

“I wasn’t actively trying to. Our tents are pretty close.”

“Right,” Jimin groans, eyes sliding closed.

“I half expected to see a claim on your neck this morning.”

“We didn’t—I mean...we just. We didn’t fully—”

“Oh,” Taehyung draws, somehow able to understand Jimin’s broken explanation.

“Last night was difficult for both of us,” he nearly stammers, not because he feels as if he needs to
explain himself, but more so because he finds himself incapable of keeping much of anything from
Taehyung. “I wanted to be close to him and he felt the same. We managed not to mate, but only
just.”

“Unfortunately, with the way things are going, that might be for the better.”

“We thought so too.”

Another silence descends, and Jimin feels it when Taehyung’s eyes land on him, his gaze piercing,
but the questions he poses next fills Jimin with warmth.

“And you? Are you okay? He treated you well?”

Jimin can feel his features soften, and he meets the other omega’s gaze with a gentle smile when he
answers.

“Yes, he did. It was perfect,” Jimin assures. “He was perfect.”

“Good,” Taehyung coughs, his eyes darting around. “I’m well aware that you can take care of
yourself, but I would’ve had words with him if I found out otherwise.”
Jimin chuckles, reaching past the short distance between them so he can squeeze Tae on his
shoulder in gratitude, watching as he gifts him with a look of affection.

They lapse into quiet, the ride beginning to become uncomfortable for him, and as Jimin’s shifts in
his saddle, his muscles protest all the way from his lower back down to his thighs, and his gaze
once again snaps to Jeongguk, hearing his earlier words ringing out in his mind.

Are you sore? You will be.

A flush dusts his cheeks and spreads all the way to his ears, memories of the previous night
overtaking him as he desperately tries to push them away, sealing them as if in a jar, to be taken out
and examined at a later time in a more private setting.

Jimin is unsure how long they ride, but feels as if two hours pass before they halt, Yoongi’s closed
fist raised in a signal that informs the rest of them that the herd is close, their pace considerably
slower when they resume. Yoongi leads them through a smattering of trees and up a steep hill,
where an an outcrop of smooth rocks forms near the top, and when led to the edge the vast herd of
bison can be seen grazing on the grasslands below.

Jimin’s eyes sweep over the magnificent beasts, counting what must be over a hundred strong in
the herd, not yet thinned out despite mating season being over. They won't be going after nearly so
many, and have already decided to try for five, though it’s likely they’ll only take down four before
the rest are spooked and flee.

Silently, both Yoongi and Namjoon signal for them to regroup, going down the line to make sure
each one knows who their target is, pinpointing the bigger males that graze near the outcropping,
ensuring that even if they try to run, the hunting party can loose more arrows with the hope that
they won’t get far before they succumb to their injuries.

Jimin grasps his bow, pulling it up and over his torso, holding it steady with one hand while the
other reaches back over his shoulder, notching an arrow as everyone else down the line does the
same. He aims, releasing a deep, calming breath, quieting his nerves as he waits for the signal.

Another fist is raised up in the air, and as soon as the fingers open, revealing the downward motion
of the palm, a barrage of arrows are released, raining down on the unsuspecting bison below,
concentrated on the designated targets.

The quiet attack disorients the herd, confusion taking hold of the animals on where the threat is
coming from, and Jimin readies more arrows as they begin to panic, scattering in multiple
directions.

He must let free at least five arrows, focusing on the bull his group was assigned to. As the great
beast attempts to run, its movements drive the arrows in deeper, causing blood from its wounds to
spill freely.

The bison tires, overcome with exhaustion and blood loss, and Jimin sends up a silent prayer as he
watches it fall to its knees. The other groups seem to be doing just as well, but a movement out of
the corner of his eye draws Jimin's attention, and his own blood runs cold.

One of the pack has broken away from the group, quickly making his way down the hill and right
towards the herd, which has yet to disperse, the animals clearly still disoriented. When Jimin looks
closer, recognition sets in and his stomach sinks, panic rising.

The lone wolf is Doyun, and the mare he's seated atop of, is Bongcha.

Jimin doesn't waste time, hardly thinking it through before he's suddenly moving, pulling on the
stallion's reins, guiding him back and away from the line, kicking his heels until the horse works
up into a gallop. Jimin keeps his body rigid as he reaches back for more arrows, shouting a warning
to the alpha who doesn't so much as react, having at least a hundred yard lead on him, though he
moves much slower.
Jimin's head snaps to the side when some of the herd change direction, his fear a tangent thing
now.

The nearby bison have located the threat, some running away as Doyun forces a clearly agitated
Bongcha into the fray, the shire digging her heels into the ungiving ground, shaking her head back
and forth to show her reluctance. But while some of the herd run, others take on defensive
posturing, appearing ready to charge.

Jimin shouts again, calling for the alpha to turn back, but Doyun keeps urging Boncha forward, the
distant sounds of the pack still up on the hill calling after them as what is taking place becomes
known, causing more chaos to ensue.

As a large bison moves closer to Bongcha, Jimin releases an arrow into the beast, reaching back
for another in quick succession. But the bull keeps coming, though the general stentorian and
raucous noise appears to discourage the other bison; which change course towards the lowlands
where the majority of the herd have retreated.

Jimin lets loose another arrow, but still the bull does not falter, Bongcha attempting to rear, but
Doyun continues to force her forward.

Jimin grits his teeth in fury, and reaching back he grabs three arrows this time, notching them at
once as his small but fast stallion flies towards them. He centers himself on the saddle, finding his
posture and lining up his target before letting the arrows free. All three of them find their mark, and
Jimin holds his breath as he watches the bull slow, Bongcha sidestepping and attempting to put
distance between her and the threat.

But something goes wrong.

Jimin watches with wide eyes as he closes the distance, witnessing the way her hoof catches on a
trench in the ground. She tries to right herself, and maybe if she didn't have the added weight of
Doyun and a saddle to carry she might have been able to do it, but instead she loses her footing, and
falls heavily to the ground.
Doyun jumps off her back before she can take him with her, and barely a few feet away, the
charging bison finally staggers, collapsing to the ground and riddled with Jimin's arrows.

He can hear the rest of the pack behind him, their horse's hooves echoing as they beat into the
ground, but Jimin can't focus on that. Can barely keep himself together as it is. He slides fluidly
from his horse's saddle before the stallion can even come to a complete stop, and runs the few
remaining feet to Bongcha, the mare letting out a warbling whine that pulls on Jimin's empathy and
emotion.

She tries to get up as soon as she sees him, but once she puts weight on her back left foot she’s
down again, clearly panicking, eyes wider than usual. Jimin slides to a stop on the ground next to
her, and he uses his hands and arms to try and discourage her from moving.

“Shhh, stay still, love. Be still.”

Bongcha whinnies, but miraculously, she listens, no longer trying to gain her feet, remaining
motionless instead. Jimin’s eyes sweep over her, surveying for an injury and hissing when he finds
it. Her foot, the same one she couldn’t put weight on before, is swollen and...not right.

The roaring approach of horses seems to abruptly cut out just as a pair of scuffed boots enter
Jimin’s line of sight. When he looks up, Doyun is staring down at him, and he neither looks
satisfied nor remorseful.

There’s nothing in his eyes, just an emptiness that fills Jimin with unease.

“Her leg is broken.”

Hollow. His voice sounds hollow.

“She won’t be able to carry on now. You should put her out of her misery.”

Jimin’s wolf flashes its teeth, a low rumbling growl starting up deep in his belly, eyes narrowed in
his anger. There's a pressure inside his chest, like the change in air due to a coming storm, one he
so desperately wants to release.

Jimin wants revenge.

Tending to Bongcha is the only thing keeping him from seeking it.

“What happened?”

That’s Namjoon’s voice, laced with authoritarian vexation.

Fingers graze the skin of his neck, caressing, pacifying him as it runs over his scent gland and grips
ever so. Jimin would recognize Jeongguk anywhere, even if his attention is completely focused on
someone else, his wolf wisely refusing to look away from a threat, and that is how he's able to
observe the way Doyun's eyes track the movement of Jeongguk's touch, a flicker of something
dangerous and hateful in his gaze at the intimate gesture.

“I think we all saw what happened,” Jimin snarls, Jeongguk’s fingers continuing to rub over his
sensitive skin. “He disobeyed orders, broke the line, and deliberately endangered not only himself
but others.”

“I was never in any danger,” Doyun argues, and it infuriates Jimin how he tries to sound rational.
“Neither was anyone else. The stupid mare wouldn’t even be injured if she had watched where she
was going.”
“I would bite my tongue if I were you,” Jimin warns, each word dripping with venom.

But Doyun only looks self-satisfied. Jimin revealed his hand, made it easy to target that which he
cares for, and now he's proving that Doyun was right. That what he's done to the mare has hurt
him, and the alpha is clearly pleased.

Both him and his omega want to claw his face off.

“My lord,” Namjoon tries to placate, obviously attempting to curb the mounting tension, but Jimin
will not be mollified, purposefully refusing to look at him or even Jeongguk as the alpha kneels
down next to him in a bid to offer comfort and clarity. But Jimin doesn't want either, desperate to
hold on to his anger.

“You better pray to whatever gods you believe in that she can recover,” he hisses, narrowed eyes
glaring up at Doyun from beneath his lashes, meeting his vacant gaze, until he turns back to
Namjoon. “Get him out of my sight.”

Namjoon motions two soldiers forward, and Jimin turns his attention back to Bongcha as he
instructs his men to lead Doyun somewhere away.

“Hoseok!” he calls, attempting to hide the tremor in his hands as he buries them in Bongcha’s
mane, Jeongguk a quiet, presence beside him, and Jimin finally allows the scent of rosemary and
cloves to fill his senses, soothing pheromones putting him more at ease.

“My lord,” he hears the beta greet, voice strained as he kneels down on Bongcha’s other side, the
mare letting out noises of distress. “Did you see where she sustained the injury?”
“Back left leg,” he murmurs, stunned by how different his voice sounds to his ears.

Jimin watches as Hoseok maneuvers around Bongcha’s body, face pinching when he finally sees
the leg in question. Around them there are shouts ringing out on the plains. The horse drawn carts
being led towards the fallen bison. They need to get to work on harvesting the beasts, as the meat
needs to be properly stored to last the trip back to the village.

After several long minutes, Hoseok’s brow becomes more and more pinched, and Jimin can bear it
no longer.

“Well?”

“Her leg is broken.”

Jimin’s eyes slide closed once the healer confirms it, barely feeling the sensation of Jeongguk’s
hand as it squeezes the back of his neck, numb, his fear realized.

“How bad?”

“I can’t say for sure if the bone is fractured or if the break is clean. But even so, the likelihood of
her healing from this is…”

When he trails off, Jimin takes in a deep breath through his nose and releases it out through his
mouth.

“Splint it,” he orders, reading Hoseok’s look of apprehension.

“Jimin, how are we going to get her back home?”

In the back of his mind, Jimin knows the beta is simply being reasonable to ask such questions.
Logical. Practical. But he cannot think in terms of how, only knows that they must.

It might be selfish on his part, even knowing how much pain the mare must be in, well aware of
the likelihood of her managing to recover the full extent of her mobility. There's a reason why the
usual remedy that befalls such animals when sustaining an injury of this caliber is to put them out
of their misery.

Still, he refuses to give up on her.

“Splint her leg,” he commands once more. “One of the carts meant for meat will be used to
transport her back.”

Jimin feels what he can only describe as the judgmental gaze of others in the pack, knowing that
they think the mare to be not only a lost cause, but a waste of supplies and space. She’ll take up the
majority of one cart on her own, and as such, they won’t be able to carry as much food. Maybe to
them, Jimin cares more for a simple shire horse then he does his pack.

Jimin doesn’t know why he has to choose one over the other.

So he won’t.

Both Jimin and Jeongguk work to keep the mare comfortable and still, watching as Hoseok fastens
a splint out of supplies he carries in his large leather satchel, using what looks to be thin but sturdy
planks to frame the injury, wrapping them tight with a roll of bandages. Bongcha shrieks through
the process, Jimin encircling his arms around her neck and humming in her ear, silent tears leaking
from the corner of his eyes onto her soft hair.
Hoseok works to keep the limb supported and immobilized, concentrating on the task with the
utmost focus, and it is only after he is satisfied with the outcome that he declares himself finished.

“Next is the hard part,” the beta murmurs. “We have to get her up on her feet, load her into one of
the carts and lay her back down again.”

“Do you think she’ll clear the cart?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok admits. “We have a ramp, but she wouldn't like it even if her leg wasn't
broken. Might take a few tries, and it will be painful for her.”

“She can do it,” Jimin declares, feeling sure that she can.

She has to.

Taehyung comes forward then, and when Jimin glances up at him, he’s leading a Clydesdale horse
attached to a large cart as close to Bongcha as he can get, making it so all she would have to do is
take one or two steps before reaching the wagon.

“Thank you,” Jimin murmurs gratefully, and the other omega gives him a somber nod, his
emotions clear to read.

Yoongi and Namjoon move to secure the ramp to the back, and both Jimin and Jeongguk gain their
feet, moving around Bongcha in order to grip her reins, Jeongguk coming in right beside him.

When Namjoon and Yoongi step away, Jimin inhales deep of Jeongguk's scent, searching for
strength and stability and finding it in his lover.
“On three,” he whispers, the alpha inclining his head at the instructions. “One. Two. Three.”

They pull, guiding the mare to reluctantly gain her feet, the splinted one hovering slightly above
the ground so as not to put any unwanted pressure on it.

Jimin knows that won’t last as they try to guide her forward.

Bongcha cries out again, grunting and shuddering in distress as she’s led up onto the ramp, the
incline hard for her. Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung press in at her sides, conforming to
her body and offering support as she sways, unsteady, while both Jimin and Jeongguk encourage
her to keep coming. The two of them backing up onto the wagon, continuing to pull, but Bongcha
halts, clearly hesitant and unwilling to make it up onto the cart, the wood groaning beneath her
weight.

Gently, Jimin holds her muzzle, guiding her face to his own so their eyes can meet, her erratic
breathing seeming to relax as he holds her gaze.

"We've got you," he promises in a whisper, taking measured steps backwards. "You're going to be
okay."

His voice nearly cracks after the spoken reassurance, but Jimin manages to keep it together as
Bongcha continues her steady progression.

Jimin breathes a sigh of relief when they finally get her into the wagon and watches while she
naturally sinks down onto her knees, laying her body in such a way that causes the least amount of
contact to her injured leg.

“Good girl,” Jimin praises, rubbing her flank as they both seem to settle. “Good girl.”
“Jimin,” Namjoon starts tentatively, Suddenly right beside him, and he already knows what he's
going to say.

“He tried to kill her.”

The alpha sighs.

“I know.”

“He saw me. The morning we left, he saw me with her. Must’ve figured out what she means to
me."

His voice sounds flat. The hollowness reminiscent to Doyun's own tone, and he hates it, but it is
the only way to keep the overwhelming emotions at bay, like a dam attempting to hold back a tidal
wave. "First Eunoia and now Bongcha.”

"Their launching attacks against you indirectly, to maintain a plausible amount of deniability."

"By going after what I care about.”

Namjoon nods in answer.

“They want to make me look unfavorable with the rest of the pack if I seek retribution," Jimin
murmurs, already having figured it out. "No one would support the decision to exile them on
account of animals, or what they can proclaim as unintentional accidents."
Namjoon nods once more, demeanor heavy and frustrated.

“Sooner or later they’re going to become more reckless. Next it’ll be the people I care about,”
Jimin monotones, feeling numb even when Jeongguk takes his hand in his own. “Then it’ll be me.”

“It won’t get that far,” Jeongguk vows, a bite to his voice that only appears when both he and the
wolf in him are being protective.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Namjoon adds. “Not while we’re around.”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it? What if you’re both targeted next? That cannot happen," he
emphasizes, the very idea suffocating him. "Something has to give, and I don’t see this ending
peacefully.”

“We’ll be fine. Especially now that we can return home.”

Jimin’s eyes nearly mist over, and he gives a minor shake of his head.

“We have no idea what we’ll be returning home to,” he whispers. “I don’t even know if my father
still lives.”

“You mustn’t think that,” Namjoon gently chastises. “Seokjin would’ve found a way to get word to
you if your father passed.”

The guard is right. Jimin knows it to be true, but after what happened today everything just seems
so…
Hopeless.

“We should go,” Hoseok suggests, eyeing Bongcha with worry. “I want her to be as calm as
possible. She might be in shock, so we should move quickly.”

“I want to stay with her, but—”

At Jimin’s hesitation, Namjoon reassures him.

“The group will be a while still. It’ll take time to harvest the bison, load it and transport it back.
We can depart now, and Yoongi can oversee the rest.”

Jimin nods in gratitude, his heart suddenly speeding up when an inexplicable need takes hold of
him.

“I’m ready, but I want to speak to Doyun first.”

Jeongguk tenses beside him, and Namjoon does so equally, face pinched and appearing as if he’s
about to argue.

“I won’t be persuaded from doing so,” Jimin warns and observes the way the guard reluctantly
gives in.

“As you wish,” the alpha nods, motioning for him to follow as the three of them climb down from
the covered cart, Namjoon leading the way through the scattered pack and towards the overhang of
the outcropping.
Doyun is there, forced to sit on the knobby hill just before the cliffs, framed on either side by
Namjoon’s men.

Jimin feels a kind of poison take hold of him, the acrimony of it almost too much to stand. He’s
never hated anyone before. Not in this way, at least.

Doyun meets his stare, a sneer to his lips as he takes in Jimin first, Jeongguk next, and Namjoon
last, but it isn't long before the expression smooths out, a blank mask taking its place.

“Due to your carelessness, the mare’s leg is broken.”

Doyun doesn’t so much as blink when he replies.

“She should be put down, then. You and I both know she won't recover.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what you want.”

“It would be in everyone’s best interest,” the alpha counters, Jimin’s ears beginning to ring as he
continues. “The horse is useless now, and you’re only condemning it to a life of pain and suffering.
You’re also using much needed resources to transport her back. That cart is needed to carry food
for our people.”

He voices the same thoughts that run through Jimin's mind. Likely the same thoughts that are
running through everyone's mind. The facade he wears, claiming to care for the greater good of
their people, or the suffering of Bongcha, has Jimin feeling sick to his stomach before the anger
converts that into rage. His teeth grit, wolf snarling once more, the sound echoing in the halls of his
mind while red spills into his vision until it is completely engulfed.
The feel of Jeongguk brushing against his back is what focuses him, and Jimin forces his voice to
come out level and calm when he speaks again.

“The other carts will have to be overloaded then so as not to abandon anything or waste those much
needed resources, and as this was your doing, any game that falls from the wagons is your
responsibility to carry, do I make myself clear?”

Doyun’s mask slips once more, clear resentment shining through and Jimin can see the extent of
how he despises him so, but it is nothing in comparison to his own fury. He will not back down,
nor will he be intimidated, and Doyun seems to realize he cannot win this as things stand.

“Perfectly,” the alpha spits out.

As soon as he gets an answer, Jimin turns and leaves, flanked by both Namjoon and Jeongguk,
refusing to spend another second in Doyun's presence.

He climbs back up into the cart where Hoseok is still tending to Bongcha, Jeongguk following
close behind him. Namjoon in turn moves to the front of the wagon, designating himself the driver
and taking the reins in hand. Taehyung and Yoongi oversee their departure, the two staying behind
to better direct the rest of the hunting party and keep them organized while they work to harvest the
bison.

Jimin takes a seat near Bongcha’s head, wanting it to be easier for the shire to see him in case she
becomes overwhelmed, and can only hope that his presence offers some form of relief.

The ride back to camp is fraught with nerves, Bongcha clearly in pain and Hoseok doing what he
can to keep her comfortable. It takes nearly three hours to return, and each time Jimin tenses up
from another bump in the journey; causing the mare to whine, Jeongguk is there with him,
squeezing his hand in silent reminders that he’s not alone in this.
When they finally enter camp, Hoseok informs him that he wants to try and keep Bongcha in the
wagon as much as he can, so long as she can endure it, with plans to bring food and water and
straw, explaining that too much movement to her injured leg will set back her healing. Since they
plan to leave for home tomorrow anyways, Jimin agrees that it’s best if she just stays where she’s
at.

With one last pet to her neck, both him and Jeongguk jump down from the cart, meeting Namjoon
just along the side of it.

“I’m going to check in with the men that still guard Eun, see if everything is alright. You two stick
together. It won’t be long before the others return.”

Jimin nods in understanding, watching the alpha’s retreating back as he heads in the direction of
Eun’s tent. Turning around, he nearly collides with the rogue’s solid chest, but Jeongguk steadies
him, not protesting when Jimin takes his hand, interlaces their fingers and begins to wander
aimlessly.

Somehow, he needs to expel the restless energy he has built up, and though it might be considered
unwise given their current circumstances, he knows just how to do it.

“Run with me,” Jimin whispers after turning to face his alpha, Jeongguk’s nose scrunching in
confusion before understanding dawns.

“Are you sure? It's not safe—”

“You’ll be with me,” Jimin reminds him, knowing that Jeongguk thinks they shouldn’t, not after
what happened the last time they stepped away from camp, but Jimin needs this. “Eun is detained,
and Doyun isn’t here.”
After a moment, the rogue gives a hesitant nod, and the two make their way to his tent, where he
quickly checks on Eunoia before they strip down, Jimin purposefully not looking at the other, not
wanting to become distracted.

The change is swifter this time, with only a bit of pain, and Jimin shakes out his silvery-white fur
before leaning down and arching his back in a stretch that has his limbs singing. When he looks up,
a familiar large black wolf is staring at him, tongue peeking out to lick along his mouth.

Jimin blinks, cocking his head at the other before yipping at him to follow, the two wolves making
their way towards the outskirts of their makeshift settlement, coming to the same smattering of
trees where they had their first run in the woods. The same place Eunoia nearly met a terrible
end…

But Jimin can’t think about that now, he’s here to escape. And he tries. He really really tries.

They run as if something gives chase, Jimin pressing himself faster, ignoring the way he tires as he
carries on. He knows it’s a temporary solution, but at this point, even a short reprieve from recent
events is a welcome one.

Jeongguk keeps up with him easily, though he never overtakes him, and instead seems content to
follow, allowing Jimin to control the course they take, their pace, along with the duration of the run
as he makes a line and circles back round again.

Together they weave in and out of trees, race along the lazy stream and climb up fallen trunks that
rest on an incline. Jimin’s lungs burn, but he doesn’t stop, searching for that tenuous grasp he has
on his control, and how he desperately clings to it while the rest of his world seems to fall apart
around him.

His mother used to claim that bad things come in threes, but Jimin is starting to wonder if he’s just
unlucky enough to have that number tripled, as seems to be the case in his experience.
The sky rumbles violently above, like the growl from a great wolf erupting in booming echoes over
the land, so that the world may know of its displeasure. Jimin’s wolven head tilts back, dilating
pupils taking in the darkening sky, his own signature scent of petrichor mirrored back at him.

It’s going to rain soon.

His body is exhausted, and he’s not sure exactly where they are or how far they've traveled,
Jimin’s nose confused, so he turns back into his human form, unable to sustain the other in his
state.

“What is it, pup?” Jeongguk whispers into his ear after shifting as well, coming up behind him and
enveloping his smaller frame in his strong arms.

Jimin melts into the embrace instantly, something restless inside of him soothed by the alpha’s
touch.

“I feel as if I built a home on a cracked foundation, and I’m witnessing it crumble around me,
keeping it together only by sheer force of will.”

Fingers delicately run through the loose strands of his hair, sweeping it over his shoulder so that
Jeongguk can lean down and scent his neck, Jimin’s eyes nearly rolling up in response.

“You don’t have to do this alone, sweetheart. If the house is falling down around you, I’ll be here
to pull you out before it collapses. We can build a new one, together.”

“I’m afraid we won’t make it out in time,” he admits, taking in a ragged breath.

“I’m with you,” is Jeongguk’s quiet reassurance. “No matter what happens, I’m with you. Until the
end.”

It comforts Jimin as much as it frightens him, because if anything were to happen to the alpha,
Jimin wouldn’t survive it.

Turning in the rogue’s arms, he brings their lips a breath apart when he asks, “Will you stay with
me?”

“Always.”

“You and me,” he adds nonsensically.

“Forever,” Jeongguk answers without hesitation, twisting Jimin’s stomach in giddy pleasure as the
curl of his fingers caresses his cheek.

“Kiss me?”

“Gods, yes.”

Their lips meet, and it isn’t gentle, but Jimin doesn’t want gentle. Not just yet. He wants to feel
everything Jeongguk gives him. Wants it to ache and remind him later of what they’ve done. A
reminder that screams they’re alive. That the house hasn’t crumbled yet.

Jeongguk is burning against him, skin heated despite the cold, and Jimin pulls at him greedily,
wanting that heat to consume him entirely, sliding and sticking against his bare body as if it yearns
to ensnare him.
There’s pleasure and friction and a frenzy that he’s only experienced in the alpha’s arms, this need
that brings out the animal in him and pushes down the man. They paw at each other, and though no
clothes adorn their skin, they still push and pull, overtaken with a compulsion to get closer than just
flesh, to sink into one another beyond the surface of their forms.

Slowly, Jimin pulls away, frightened by the impetuosity in his actions that has the power to strip
him of everything but baser instincts, the other parts of himself so easily shed, like the fur of his
pelt in the changing of seasons.

Tentatively, Jeongguk closes in again, slowly and pointedly, until their lips brush in a brief kiss,
there and then gone, and then there again until Jimin memorizes the pattern, giving him something
to focus on. To hold on to, like an anchor to his humanity.

“I’m here with you,” Jeongguk repeats, the words born against his own mouth, Jimin swallowing
them down like water or air, the essence of life that is vital to survival.

His forehead rests against Jeongguk’s own, their lips sliding together and then retreating, lids
fluttering, eyes drinking each other in—

There’s a whistle through the woods, and with a startling realization, Jimin recognizes it, eyes wide
just before an arrow embeds itself in the tree they’re leaned up against, a mere two inches from
Jeongguk’s skull. In an instant Jimin pushes the alpha down into cover, registering the shock and
confusion that takes over the rogue's features before he leaves him behind.

Turning in the direction of the threat, Jimin does not run away to seek safety, but runs towards it,
newly familiar fury igniting in his veins, leaving no room for anything but the anger and
adrenaline, all while ignoring the cries of Jeongguk calling after him. Calling him back, though it is
in vain.

Twigs snap beneath his nimble feet as he runs, dodging uneven rocks and uplifted roots. Another
arrow flies past him, this one further off its mark as it embeds itself in another tree far off to the
right, and Jimin sends up a prayer of thanks that their would-be-killer is not on his level of
marksmanship, made clearer when two more arrows are loosened, both of which unable to keep up
with his rapidly shifting path.

It's Doyun, Jimin knows it is. Can practically smell the burnt cardamon in the air, the unpleasant
smell cloying at his senses. He must’ve somehow managed to slip from the men Namjoon
assigned to watch him, followed them back and saw an opportunity that was too good to pass up
when both he and Jeongguk disappeared into the woods together.

The alpha is committing treason now, and Jimin plans to protect himself accordingly. There will be
no holding back on the wolf any longer, as this has become an outright attempt on his life. With
that comes an actual sense of relief, of finally being able to put an end to the subtle and not-so-
subtle attacks that seem to trace back to the truculent alpha, his power plays affecting Jimin
physically, mentally and emotionally.

One way or another, after this confrontation, he can finally end it.

…Only…

When the trees thin, it isn’t Doyun who Jimin sees wielding a bow with a notched arrow.

It’s Naeri.

She loosens another, this one aimed right in the center of his body, and in his shock, Jimin is too
distracted to avoid it, but at the last second, two familiar and capable arms wrap around his waist
and pull, both him and Jeongguk falling heavily to the forest floor and put of the arrow's path. They
don't remain for long, knowing that by doing so it gives Naeri more time to loose more arrows.
With a pivotal stare, they're both up again, separating from each other to give the armed omega an
additional target in the hopes that it'll overwhelm her enough to make a mistake.

Naeri focuses on Jimin, aiming and releasing another arrow in his direction. Jimin evades, jumping
mid transformation and sending up another silent prayer that it’ll be easy and painless this time,
and that it won’t wind him.

It doesn’t hurt at all, and when Jimin’s wolf hits the ground it’s at a sprint, eyes narrowed on the
way Naeri throws the bow down as both him and Jeongguk close in, the alpha having shifted as
well. Naeri herself attempts to change, but Jimin is faster, and in two long strides he’s on her,
knocking the woman roughly to the ground.

Jimin can hear Jeongguk behind him, moving in when he retreats, Naeri's enraged cries echoing in
the forest as the two wolves circle her. Jimin strikes from the side, knocking Naeri back, the omega
punching at Jimin's fur-covered ribs, a noise of distress escaping him when she connects.

The sound sends Jeongguk into a frenzy, lips pulled back to reveal both his upper and lower teeth,
sharp canines on display as he gives a wicked snarl.

Naeri hesitates, and as such, so do they, waiting to see what she'll do.

Their lupine eyes watch as the omega pulls a dagger from the sheath attached to her belt, and once
Jimin and Jeongguk take note of the threat, they fall back, knowing the likelihood of one of them
sustaining injury if they proceed without care.

She takes advantage of their hesitation, but not in a way they ever could have anticipated.

Jimin watches on in horror as Naeri holds the knife out and plunges it into her own gut, a wet
sounding wail spilling from her lips along with a shocking line of red.

Blood falls to the ground, a precursor to the omega's body following as she lands hard on her back,
a slowly growing puddle of crimson expanding beneath her, the sight of which triggers something
in Jimin. Instead of the omega, he sees a black wolf, identical to Jeongguk, nearly hyperventilating
as he watches the blood spread and seep from its fur into the soil-turned-snow below.
He shifts back, once again unable to hold the form in his state of panic, eyes wide as he takes in
Naeri, gasping and gurgling with the severity of her wound; which is so deep and severe, not even
her regenerative healing can save her now.

"Why?" he whispers, falling down to his knees beside her. "Why did you do this?"

Jimin leans further over her, the choked, stuttery utterance of what could be words wetly leaving
her parted lips, and pointedly, he turns his head, as if lending his ear in an effort to better
understand her final words.

“Y-You...are n-not...worthy.”

Blood flows freely from her lips, Jimin disturbed by the sight of it, but he holds the omega’s gaze,
refusing to look away as the light leaves her eyes.

The loud snap of twigs sound off behind them, and Jimin turns sharply, baring his teeth in another
snarl just as Namjoon breaks free from the brush, taking in the scene with a look of both shock and
disbelief. Jeongguk changes back from his wolf form, quietly asking Namjoon for his winter coat;
which the alpha hands over immediately before Jeongguk holds it open in front of Jimin.

“Go ahead, love,” he encourages, and Jimin regains his feet, the rogue immediately wrapping him
up in the heat of the garment, the familiar smell of cypress trees helping to calm him.

“She attacked you,” Namjoon shakily works out, though it seems to be both a question and
explanation.

"She did. And then she took her own life," Jeongguk reveals, as if reciting something that is
beyond the realm of belief, clearly still struggling with what has transpired.
"She did this to herself?"

Dazedly, Jeongguk nods.

“How did you know?” Jimin whispers, burrowing further into the coat as he addresses Namjoon.
"How did you know she would come after us?"

“I watched her near the treeline," the guard admits. "Didn’t even know she made it back to camp, a
bow and quiver still attached to her shoulder. It seemed to me that she was following you. So I
followed her. She was fast, though, could barely keep up.”

Jeongguk takes a deep breath in, and Jimin can’t help but panic when the implications of what has
occurred here catches up with him.

“Her interest in you,” he starts out, directing the statement at Jeongguk, thoughts too frantic as be
tries to translate them into words that make sense. “All this time, all the questions she asked. She
was trying to learn about you and your pack for a reason.”

Jeongguk’s grip tightens around him ever so slightly, eyes narrowing down at the omega’s lifeless
body.

“To determine where my people are," he murmurs flatly. "Our numbers. How much of a threat we
pose. How much of a threat I pose.”

“It explains why she was so insistent. Why she wanted to know everything she could. You were
right. It had nothing to do with misguided attraction,” Jimin rasps, feeling silly that he ever thought
as much in light of the truth. "It was so she could obtain information and report it back to
someone."
The three of them stare at Naeri's lifeless body, until slowly, their eyes meet, dread filling them in
equal measure and leaving them in silence, with nothing but the trees and the scent of blood as
witness, washed away with the rain as it finally begins to fall.
 Alphas From the North
Chapter Notes

Thank you for your patience. I'm posting three stories simultaneously while working
on two more behind the scenes with a limited time to write, so thank you for sticking
with me.

Dark clouds take over the sky, spreading until they hover ominously like a shadow above them.
The canopy constructed from the outstretched branches of the forest trees only allows the slightest
hint of dwindling light to pierce through and illuminate the ground, but that too is snuffed out with
the appearance of the storm, dilating Jimin's pupils in order to compensate and give him some
visibility.

Rain falls heavily, amassing a surprising amount of force, as if nature itself is desperate to wash
away what has transpired below. Jimin never knew that single drops of water could carry so much
weight, each one that pelts against his skin feeling like a physical blow, eroding him as if he were
made of stone.

Both Namjoon and Jeongguk remain quiet—like him—and he can’t help but wonder if they’re
thinking the same thing he is. If they too are trying to work out what to do with the dead omega
that lies motionless in the slowly turning muck, the rich soil rapidly becoming saturated with more
than just blood, displacing the earth and making it unstable.

Naeri’s lifeless eyes stare back at him, unseeing, yet accusing all the same, and though crimson
decorates and dries along her lips, her color is still there. If not for the obvious signs, she would
appear alive and well, and Jimin can’t figure out if that is more unsettling than the fact that she
breathes no longer.

Once he manages to assemble his thoughts into some form of working order, he finally speaks, the
break in silence almost jarring.

“This has to be Doyun and Eun’s doing.”

“I would say so,” Namjoon huffs, “the timing is too convenient for it not to be, after what they
did.”

The rain is overbearing in the ensuing silence, and Jimin regrets having to break it again.

“We cannot leave her here.”

Namjoon immediately takes on a relatable weariness to his features, one that Jimin both shares and
empathizes with.

“They’re going to know,” the guard warns. “As soon as we carry her back to camp, they’re going to
know that she failed. That they failed.”

“Let them know,” Jimin murmurs, almost too quietly to hear, body trembling while his stomach
roils the longer he stares at Naeri, so he tears his eyes away from her instead.

His gaze meets Jeongguk’s as the alpha alternates between looking at the two of them in clear
confusion, his expression one that says he thinks they’ve lost their sensibilities.

“What does it matter? They’re trying to kill you,” he hisses, clearly upset. “They made their move
and now it’s our turn. They should suffer the same.”

Jimin sighs but regrettably shakes his head. If only it were so easy.

“Naeri tried to kill me,” he corrects, expecting it when Jeongguk argues.

“Naeri who was in on Doyun and Eun's cowardice plan—”

“Can you prove it?”

Jeongguk’s brow furrows, rendered quiet as he looks almost betrayed by the question, not
understanding why he isn’t on his side. Jimin cannot handle that hurt expression, heart clenching,
so he turns from that wide-eyed gaze and incorporates Namjoon into the same line of questioning.

“Can any one of us claim to have seen Naeri speaking with Doyun or Eun? Did anyone overhear
the makings of a plot on my life? Does anyone have evidence that would solidify a connection
between them?”

He knows they do not, and the silence that follows confirms as much.

“Why would you need such things?” Jeongguk counters, almost imploringly. “We know it to be
true. Your safety will continue to be at risk if you do not deal with them.”

“If I pass judgment without offering sufficient reason, the pack will view me as no better than the
previous head alpha. Doyun, along with his allies and sympathizers would twist my intentions,
spread doubt and fear in the pack, paint me out to be a power hungry omega, only interested in
silencing those who oppose me. He would become a martyr and I a tyrant. This has to be handled
with care.”

“Agreed,” Namjoon affirms, though he doesn’t sound happy about it, expression falling further
when his gaze returns to Naeri. “We need to be prepared. This is going to cause pandemonium in
the camp. Once the others learn she made an attempt on your life we cannot say what reaction
we’ll be met with. We had no inkling that Naeri was even contemplating such a thing, and as such
cannot fathom the full extent of Doyun’s reach. Others could be making similar plots.”
Beside him, Jeongguk tenses, and instinctively, Jimin reaches for his hand, giving it what he hopes
is a reassuring squeeze before readdressing the guard.

“What do you suggest?”

“We know we’re too vulnerable out here, and will continue to be until we make it back home.
What little men I brought with me are already stretched thin guarding both Eun and now Doyun. If
there are more threats I fear we’ll be outnumbered. I think we should try to keep this as quiet as we
can until we return. And unfortunately; even though I know you don’t want to, It might even be
best to leave her here.”

Jimin is already shaking his head before he finishes that sentence.

“We cannot do that, and we cannot hide it from the others,” he vehemently denies, but Namjoon
tries to convince him.

“We’re not hiding what happened, just buying time. She came alone and has no family to speak
of.”

Jimin is well aware that her parents have been dead for quite some time, but it means nothing.

“Maybe not by blood,” he answers over the downpour, hair sticking to his face, “but there are
those who cared for her that will want a body to lay to rest…and an explanation,” he tacks on.

“Besides,” Jeongguk interjects, still looking perturbed, “you’ve been keeping attendance. Her
absence will be noticed, and if we don't address it first, who’s to say Doyun won’t ask after her in
an effort to make us look unfavorable. Like we're culpable.”
The guard relents with a sigh before nodding, though Jimin can tell he continues to hold
reservations on the matter.

“I still think we should keep this quiet until we return home. We can find a way to bring her body
back without informing the others of what transpired. She broke off from the rest of the hunting
party earlier. If anyone asks after her, we can tell them she fell ill and is seeking care in Hoseok’s
tent. We can wrap up her body and stow her in one of the wagons out of sight.”

Jimin hums, the idea leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but Namjoon is right. If the experience with
Naeri has taught him anything, it’s that he has no way of knowing who is friend and who is foe,
and not knowing could be the difference between life and death.

After nodding in agreement, he watches as Namjoon slowly kneels down to lift the lifeless omega
into his arms, cradling beneath her limp shoulders and the back of her knees, the gesture appearing
almost too innocent for Jimin, as if it would be a normal scene, if not for the knife buried in
Naeri’s belly.

With both the worsening of the weather and the adrenaline fading, the trek out of the woods takes
its toll on Jimin. Within minutes, both he and the winter coat that covers him are drenched until
he’s barely able to keep a hold of it, the material becoming more dense and cumbersome as it’s
weighted down with rainwater, his own fingers feeling locked up from the cold and the ordeal he
went through. Rain obstructs his vision as surely as his hair does, falling like a shield over his eyes
to make the trek even more impossible, rapidly filling puddles transforming what would usually be
relatively flat terrain into something perilous to traverse. Several times Jimin stumbles, only to be
caught and steadied by Jeongguk, the alpha shaking his head before finally lifting him up into his
own arms, despite his protests.

“You’re going into shock,” he informs him, ignoring the offended look Jimin directs his way, the
effect likely dulled from the silver strands that cover his face.

“How can you tell?”

“You’re disoriented and on the verge of hyperventilating. And I can hear your heartbeat. It’s
racing.”
Jimin blinks at him, drops of rain clinging to his eyelashes while his hand deliberately moves up to
the center of Jeongguk’s bare chest. He suffered through the same ordeal as him, is naked, just as
waterlogged, and yet he tries to maintain an air of strength, either for both their sakes or his own.

But Jimin has his pulse underneath his palm, now.

“Are you going into shock as well?”

The alpha finally looks down at him, inquisitiveness in his gaze, clearly waiting for Jimin to
elaborate.

“Can you feel the way your own heart is pounding?”

Jeongguk stares at him a moment longer before quickly averting his eyes and moving forward.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin’s brow creases at the dismissal, a sudden realization taking hold.

“You’re cross.”

“I’m not cross," Jeongguk denies, though rather unconvincingly.

“You are. You’re cross with me.”

The alpha's silence confirms it, igniting Jimin's indignation.

“We almost died and you’re angry with me.”

“Don’t say that, just…don't say such things, please," he repeats, clearly finding the reality they
almost faced too upsetting to examine.

He’s silent for a long while, and Jimin is sure he’s not going to say anything more on the matter
when a gentle murmur reaches his ear, discernible only because of their close proximity.

"I’m not angry with you, I promise that isn’t it. I’m just…I’m still trying to process everything, but
I can’t because every time I think about what could’ve happened, I—”

The alpha cuts himself off, and rather numbly, Jimin makes another observation.

“You’re trembling.”

Again, Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away, but when he does he simply repeats an earlier
sentiment.

“I’m f-fine.”

An obvious lie.
He so desperately wants to know where Jeongguk’s head is at, but gives him his space instead.

A foreign kind of pain takes hold of not only him, but his wolf. Rather than physical, it runs
deeper, because despite how close Jeongguk and him are, in both the physical and emotional sense,
the alpha has closed himself off in a way, and in doing so, has shut Jimin out. They haven't felt this
far apart; this disconnected from each other, in a long time.

When they make it back to camp, all three of them are surprised that the hunting party still hasn’t
returned, and it brings a relieved exhale from the core of Jimin’s lungs, their absence giving them
more time to execute their plan without prying eyes.

“You should stay out of sight,” Namjoon suggests. “At least until they return and I can get Doyun
confined to his tent. If he doesn’t see you and he doesn’t see Naeri, he won’t know the outcome
yet, and we can keep it from him a little longer.”

Jimin nods his agreement, feeling the way some of the tension leaves Jeongguk’s body, watching
as relief flashes in his guard’s expression before Namjoon speaks again.

“Rest as much as you can. We leave at dawn tomorrow. I can fill in Yoongi and Taehyung.”

“You’re sure?” Jimin asks, worried that he’s taking on too much.

“I’m sure,” Namjoon reassures, inclining his head towards their tents. “Go on, get out of this
weather. We don’t know when they’ll return. I’ll take her to Hoseok and tell him everything,” he
finishes, having to yell in order to be heard over the storm.

With that they part ways, Jeongguk shifting his hold on Jimin before leading them towards his
tent.
The alpha sets him down gently once they’re inside, avoiding his gaze while he turns back around
in order to tie the flaps shut to the wind and the rain before moving to light a few candles, a soft
glow filling the space.

Jimin nearly cries out in surprise when he’s rushed, the alpha suddenly before him, leaving no
space in between. Cool palms tenderly cradle his cheeks as rainwater runs down them, imitating
tears, calloused thumbs rubbing them away.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Slowly, Jimin shakes his head.

“Not seriously. My hands got a little scraped but they should be healed soon."

The answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Jeongguk, and he lifts Jimin’s hands up to be inspected, noting
the minor cuts that litter his skin, likely acquired from running in his wolf form.

Captivated, he watches as the alpha lifts his hands even higher, placing a sweet kiss in the center of
his palm. His own eyes open, gazing down at Jimin from beneath his lids, and very deliberately
swipes his tongue over the torn skin.

Jimin wasn’t being brave, the wounds really are minor, and with his regenerative capabilities
would have disappeared in no time. Jeongguk using his saliva to speed up the process is both
excessive and provocative, but entirely welcome.

A deep rumble starts up in the rogue’s throat, resonating in Jimin’s own skin, vibrating, until it
travels through the rest of his body, igniting his blood to boil. He stands there, motionless and
silent as he lets Jeongguk carry on with his ministrations, not willing to interrupt him.
It feels like there are a thousand nerve endings in his palms alone, and with each swipe of
Jeongguk's tongue his stomach swoops, heat flushing his skin, a familiar tingling sensation pulsing
throughout his form as he presses his thighs tightly together, desperate to soothe the ache that
blooms between them.

When Jeongguk lifts his head again, nostrils flaring, Jimin imagines that his lips are redder than
they were when he started, a predator staring back at him.

“Anywhere else?”

Jimin wants so desperately to lie, but hesitantly, he shakes his head in honesty.

Fingers brush tentatively over Namjoon's sopping coat, and Jeongguk’s eyes seek his again when
he poses his next question.

“May I?”

Jimin knows what he’s asking, and this time there is no hesitation when he nods.

With just the slightest urging, the coat falls to the ground with a wet plop, reverberating throughout
the tent, almost too loud even in the cacophony of the storm. He’s made bare before Jeongguk, and
Jimin shivers as an afterthought while the alpha studies him up and down, as if checking Jimin for
wounds he might not yet be aware of, appreciating along the way.

“Stay here,” he encourages, moving back again, appearing to search the tent for something.
He comes back with a thick terry cloth, and very quickly sets about drying every drop of rain that
still stubbornly clings to his skin before wrapping it over his hair, pressing the strands tightly; but
gently, between the material, wringing any excess water from them.

The towel follows the same fate as the coat, and Jeongguk seems to have to force himself to look
away, his body following with a murmur of, “Let me find you some clothes.”

Jimin almost pulls him back, but restrains himself at the last second.

While the alpha searches again, he busies himself with checking in on Eunoia. As soon as the door
to her makeshift house is open, the owl blinks up at him lethargically, the moon not quite out yet,
though she does perk up as soon as he gives her light scratches on her head, practically trilling with
the motions. She seems to doze off not long after, and as she has plenty of water and meat still
stored away in her tiny feeding bowls, he carefully closes her back up in the little wooden house.

“Here,” Jeongguk whispers from behind him, and when Jimin turns, he’s offering clothing that he
knows will smell strongly of the alpha, posing its own kind of sweet torture.

As he reaches out to accept them, Jimin’s eyes catch on Jeongguk’s naked body, and the
mesmerizing way it seems to glisten and glow in the candlelight; which catches on the drops of
water that gather on the ends of his own still-drenched hair before falling down over the contours
of his chest, getting lower and lower—

“Would you prefer something different?”

Jimin blinks, regaining his focus to take in Jeongguk’s slightly self-satisfied expression, and
silently he receives the set of clothes.

“These will do nicely, thank you,” he murmurs, flashing a quick look of gratitude before moving
away to change.
When Jimin finishes—the clothes far too loose on him—he slowly turns back around, and watches
as Jeongguk runs another cloth over his body before ruffling his long midnight hair with it, a
folded set of clothes already waiting for him.

Unashamed, Jimin watches the alpha get dressed while Jeongguk watches him, the air almost too
thick, cloying at the back of his throat when he tries to breathe.

Inappropriate given the circumstances, to be sure.

“You can barely stand,” Jeongguk comments like he can read his thougts, and Jimin knows that to
be true, but he also knows that it’s likely the alpha is merely pointing it out to dissuade them from
what they both want to happen. What they both desire to happen.

“I’m sure I can lay down just fine.”

“Jimin.”

It’s said with that tone of warning, but underlying that is a kind of desperation that Jimin is all too
familiar with.

“Not tonight. We would be taking advantage of each other when we’re in a vulnerable state, and
you can barely keep your eyes open.”

Jimin knows that to be true as well, but his stubborn nature has trouble letting it go, wanting to
fight and argue for what he wants.
But compromises can be made.

“Will you take me to bed alpha,” he husks, words slurring, lids fluttering. "Want you to hold me."

As soon as the request is made Jeongguk advances, and he kneels as if in prayer, gripping Jimin
behind his knees and eliciting a surprised hum from him when he’s hoisted up into the alpha’s
arms, hugging his hips with his thighs, legs wrapped around him and arms encircling his neck.

It isn’t until they land on the pallet of furs that the full extent of what happened in the woods
catches up with him, the memory feeling like a waking nightmare.

Taking in a deep inhale of rosemary and cloves, Jimin allows the scent to both calm and soothe his
nerves. It surrounds him, from his clothes to the air, and now the pillow he lays his head upon, but
most importantly it emanates from the man he’s wrapped up in, and suddenly he’s trying to hold
back tears he can’t really put a reason to, except everything and nothing.

He’s been functioning on what feels like borrowed energy for a long time, but even that has left
him now, and he can do nothing but lay motionless, heavy and yet adrift, eyes heavy and aching
with the effort to keep them open even as water pools along his lids.

Seeming to sense his distress, the alpha immediately lifts his head, and without a word, cradles his
unresponsive form more tightly in his arms and begins to rock him, burying fingers in the long,
loose strands of his damp hair as he begins to quietly comfort him.

“Shhh, you’re okay, sweetheart. We’re okay.”

It doesn’t feel that way.

He repeats the same sentiment over and over again until Jimin realizes that maybe the words aren’t
solely meant for him. Maybe Jeongguk is desperately trying to convince himself as well.

The alpha deviates from the mantra, fingers stilling along the back of his neck, touch feather-soft.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispers, sounding guilty and agonized, and Jimin wonders what exactly it
is that he's apologizing for, choosing to remain quiet in the hopes that he’ll explain.

The rogue takes a deep, steadying breath, chest expanding beneath Jimin’s palm and he begins to
do just that.

“I truly wasn't angry with you earlier, but I was being insensitive. I didn’t want to upset you, that’s
the last thing I ever want to do. It’s just…I’ve never felt such fear before,” he confesses, the words
weighted in the stillness of the air, and Jimin gazes up at him from beneath his lashes as Jeongguk
stares back, tracing patterns over his collarbones. “Not even on the day we met, when I was certain
I was going to die surrounded by wolves in the forest. But when I saw that arrow come towards
you…when you pushed me to safety but turned and ran towards the threat…”

The alpha takes another deep, shuddering breath, the entirety of his body quivering beneath Jimin’s
hands as he seems to relive that newly-made memory.

“I was petrified.”

Jimin feels the way the shivering worsens against him, and instinctively tightens his hold, as if he
can channel his own strength and comfort through physical touch alone.

“Gods, I think my heart stopped.”

They both laugh wetly at the claim, Jeongguk pulling him in even closer, scenting along his neck
almost desperately.

“After reading the imprinting book, objectively I knew that if something were to happen to one of
us it would affect the other. But tonight I felt it,” he confesses in a whisper into his skin, causing a
tremor to run through the entirety of Jimin's form. “It’s like I just knew. I knew that if anything
happened to you, I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t live in a world without you.”

The realization hits Jimin all at once, and he grips Jeongguk even tighter for it.

“I’m so sorry,” he husks, voice breaking, and Jeongguk moves back just enough to gaze down at
him in concern.

“What are you sorry for, sweetheart?”

“I didn’t take that into account tonight,” he admits. “I was just so fixated on keeping you safe and
confronting whoever it was so that I could put an end to it, that I failed to consider the
consequences. That if something did happen to me, the repercussions it would have on you would
be just as dire. I’m sorry,” he says again, looking up into Jeongguk’s big, star-filled eyes.

“Oh love, come here,” he murmurs, wrapping Jimin up again and kissing softly just beneath his
ear. “I’m okay. We’re okay,” he repeats, and Jimin feels those words to be an anchor.

But reality sinks in.

“For now,” he can’t help but say. “This isn’t over yet. Not while they’re still here.”

Doyun’s face flashes in his thoughts accompanied by Eun’s sharp smile, body becoming alert and
on edge until Jeongguk scents him again, the tension draining out of his limbs like a sieve.

“Knowing that there are those out there that want to do you harm…that they’re right there, and yet
I can do nothing about it, is almost too much to bear.”

“I know,” Jimin whispers, because he does. If their roles were reversed, Jimin would feel just as
trapped. Just as helpless.

Their words give way to thoughts, and Jimin’s mind becomes overtaken with everything that has
come to pass during the past few days, overlayed with his already present fears and anxieties, the
things that keep him awake at night, confined to the corners of his mind where they whisper, never
leaving him completely, but sneaking back in to make their presence known.

It feels as if he’s at a breaking point, and he knows Jeongguk likely suffers the same.

“Thought I was going to lose you,” the alpha murmurs right against his skin, lips caressing over his
scent gland once more in a way that brings warmth, while the juxtaposition of his words tear at his
heart.

“I’m okay. We’re okay,” he reassures, repeating Jeongguk’s earlier words back at him in the hopes
that they offer some semblance of solace.

Jimin feels it when Jeongguk nods, the way his body seems to shudder as he inhales and then;
painstakingly slow, lets it back out.

“You need sleep,” he whispers, and though Jimin wants to argue, his lids are fighting to remain
open as it is.
“So do you,” he counters, and though his eyes slip closed, he remains conscious, waiting for a
response.

“You first,” Jeongguk sighs into his skin, tightening his arms and squeezing Jimin’s midsection
gently. “I’ll follow.”

Jimin smiles softly into Jeongguk’s hair at the words, and he feels such an intense feeling for the
man, he isn’t sure there are words that exist that could do it justice.

The only one that could falls short, but echos in Jimin’s thoughts all the same.

Love.

Burrowing deeper into Jeongguk as he slips down into sleep, Jimin releases a final sigh before he
succumbs, thankfully too tired to dream.

________________

The journey back home is long and arduous. Every available space has to be carefully managed,
and some wagons are overfilled in comparison to others in order to make room for more meat or
supplies. Doyun and Eun are forced to ride in a cart with Namjoon’s men, and while the group
Naeri had been traveling with did inquire about her whereabouts, they seemed to accept fairly
quickly that she had fallen ill. Her body—which has been put on what little ice they had to spare
and concealed in a long trunk bench—is transported in a wagon with both Hoseok and Bongcha, so
the healer can continue to offer care and comfort to the horse and keep the secret of the omega’s
fate.

As rain transitions into snow; the temperature dropping exponentially, it is both a hardship to
endure the onslaught of the elements and a strange kind of relief at the same time, as it means they
are getting closer and closer to home, Hogok Mountain growing before their eyes, a towering
presence in the sky.

On the dawn of the third day, Jeongguk is taking his shift as driver of their wagon when the
silhouette of the village comes into view, and from his position beside him, Jimin makes a grateful
sound at the sight of it, body aching, fatigue strong, but a large piece of anxiety leaving him at
finally being where he belongs.

Seokjin, and what looks to be the majority of the guard, meet them on the steps of the Great Lodge,
likely receiving word of their arrival from the scouts or those manning the gate towers, and by their
grim expressions, Jimin’s heart sinks, new anxieties forming to replace the old ones.

It’s his father. It has to be.

Jimin’s expression must so clearly reveal his fear, for as soon as he jumps down from the cart;
unsteady on his feet from hours of travel, and approaches the alpha, Seokjin sees fit to reassure him
before bowing or even offering a greeting.

“Your father is alright, I promise. But we have much to discuss.”

The words bring forth a deep stuttering inhale in, and for five seconds Jimin holds that breath
before letting it back out again, searching for the calm assured nature his position requires and
grasping onto it tenuously.

Jimin nods, his imagination running wild as the other members of the hunting party begin to
disembark. Namjoon quickly approaches his men, speaking in hushed tones, and Jimin knows the
exact moment when he tells them what happened, and though barely discernible, he can see their
shock, but only because he’s looking for it as they turn towards the wagon Namjoon points out that
houses Hoseok, Bongcha and Naeri. They nod to their commander before approaching discreetly.

Jimin would like nothing more than to follow, but with the intention of helping comfort Bongcha,
so that he may assist in moving her out and into the stables, but he knows he cannot, his
responsibilities as Lord resuming as soon as he stepped foot on their land.

Other pack members from the lodge move forward, offering assistance in unloading the carts as
both Namjoon and Jeongguk flank his sides, a familiar wooden house cradled in the alpha’s arms,
Eunoia resting within.

Jimin takes another deep breath of the cold, frigid air before posing a question.

“Is the stablemaster here?”

“He is,” Seokjin answers, pointing somewhere behind him as they likely attempt to assess and care
for the horses that made the journey.

“There’s an injured shire horse in one of the middle wagons. After the guards unload it, have him
and some men assist Hoseok in any way they can to get her out and make her comfortable.”

Seokjin inclines his head to one of the guards to his left, and that alpha takes another group of men
and moves to see it done.

With that, they step inside of the lodge, the majority of the pack on site staying behind to help
manage the wagon train.

“We can stop by your father’s quarters first, if you wish,” Seokjin offers, and Jimin considers it
before nodding his gratitude.

Jeongguk, Namjoon, and Seokjin remain outside the doors as Jimin walks in, nearly crushed by the
weight of his relief when his eyes land on his father's form, the steady rise and fall of his chest
discernable beneath the furs that cover him. He looks a lot better than he did before he departed to
the plains, his color returned, and his breathing not so labored.

“You have returned.”

Jimin's gaze slips towards the corner of the room at the raspy cracking of Haneul’s voice, greeting
her with a tilt of his head as she knits in her chair, though her eyes remain on him.

“I have. He looks much better,” Jimin admits aloud, turning back towards his father.

“I would say so. He’s handling water well when he wakes long enough to drink.”

“A good sign?”

“Tis. Though we’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

And he still deteriorated. But Jimin doesn’t want to think in such ways. He wants to believe that his
father can still recover.

“And the pain?”

“He’s been resting easy for four days now.”

“Does he still cry out for me?”

“No my lord. He is silent.”

Jimin nods, approaching the bed and giving his father’s cold hand a gentle squeeze, stilling when
he thinks he feels a weak squeeze back.

For a moment he stands there, eyes searching for any signs of the alpha waking, but finding none.

“Please inform me if there are any changes, or if he’s lucid long enough for me to speak to him.”

“Of course,” Haneul reassures, her milky eyes watching him on the way out.

When he reunites with the others back in the hall, they immediately make their way towards
Jimin’s study, the omega taking up position behind the desk, Jeongguk standing just behind him,
still clutching Eunoia’s house while Namjoon and Seokjin seat themselves on the opposite side.

“Tell me,” Jimin softly commands, bracing himself for Seokjin’s news.

“Barely two days after your departure, the scouts rode in with a group of alpha’s from the north.”

“From the Lee pack?”

Seokjin nods.

“So they claim. Our men say that the group sought them out requesting an audience with the head
alpha, and the story they gave me was that they were seeking asylum from their former pack.
Asked if they could integrate into our own, or seek shelter through the winter.”
“A group of alphas, you said? Only alphas?”

Seokjin nods again.

He knows the leader of the Lee pack, and from his own experience and by all accounts, he’s an
honorable and just man. Why would a group of alphas be seeking asylum?

Unless of course they’re lying—which is likely—and it wasn’t their choice to leave their pack, but
were exiled.

“Did they say why they were seeking refuge?”

“They refused to give me a sufficient reason. I wanted to send a message to the north for answers,
but due to the harsh weather, I thought it unwise.”

Jimin nods, mind racing.

“Where are they now?”

“I told them of your absence, and that I was not at liberty to grant them what they asked for, but
extended the invitation that they are welcome to wait outside of our walls for your return. They
came with tents, but I offered them the empty lodgings attached to the boathouse along Lake
Geoul, along with other supplies if they so needed throughout their wait.

“Hospitable of you,” Jimin grins, glad that they aren’t inside the walls, at least. Seokjin did well to
see to that.
“Aren’t they technically rogues now,” Jeongguk questions, clearly confused.

“Technically, yes,” Seokjin answers.

“And yet they’re free to do as they please just outside your walls while I was nearly killed at first
sight.”

“That’s different,” Namjoon interjects, albeit gently. “They approached our scouts that patrol our
borders for permission first and came from an allied pack seeking help, you were found hunting on
our land.”

Jeongguk huffs at the explanation, clearly irritated with the distinction.

“I do not understand your rules,” he mutters, and Jimin reaches up, taking his hand in his own,
interlacing their fingers in an effort to offer comfort.

Across the way, Seokjin and Namjoon’s eyes seem to meet in the face of such affection before
quickly looking away, clearly uncomfortable, and Jimin’s heart aches for them, wishing everything
wasn’t so precarious, so the two could at least speak about their situation.

But as they are both stubborn, Jimin wonders if they ever will.

“These alphas from the north will have to wait. We unfortunately ran into a few problems of our
own.”

After relaying the events that occured on the hunting trip to a clearly shocked Seokjin, the alpha
just stares at the wall, continuously shaking his head.

“Where is Naeri’s body?”

“I instructed the men to move her to one of the empty underground storehouses," Namjoon
responds. "When someone claims her, a funeral pyre can be built.”

“And what of Doyun and Eun?”

“They’ve been released,” Namjoon grits, clearly unhappy about it. “Others would view their crimes
minor, at best, and the rest we cannot prove and therefore cannot hold them. The men have been
instructed to keep an eye on the two, but that’s all we can do for now.”

“Just wait for them to try again,” Seokjin demands. “And what if they succeed next time?”

Jimin shakes his head.

“You know what it’ll look like if I have them arrested or exiled.”

“Fuck what it looks like,” Seokjin argues, and behind him he can hear Jeongguk hum in agreement,
and he feels the spark in his energy, both he and his wolf so clearly getting worked up.

“This isn’t something we can just handle in whatever way we see fit just because we want to. You
know what’ll happen if the pack is forced to choose sides. We cannot guarantee that mine is the
one that’ll have the advantage. The last thing we need is a full scale rebellion.”
“So…we wait?”

“We wait,” Jimin affirms, watching while Seokjin’s shoulders sag.

“What will you do now?”

Jimin sighs before answering.

“We stay vigilant. The more we prepare ourselves the bigger advantage we'll have. I have to speak
to the pack. Tell them what happened with Naeri before they realize she’s not actually sick like we
claimed, and start asking questions. They must know the truth.”

“Shall I inform them there is to be a meeting?”

Jimin nods, gazing out the window, the sky still dark despite the early hour, a harsh snowstorm
clearly imminent.

“Inform the pack there will be a meeting in the Great Hall at midday. I’ll have a public audience
with the alphas from the north first, and when that’s resolved, I’ll address the pack. I want some
time to get cleaned up and settled before then.”

“Of course, my lord. I’ll have the men bring up baths for you both.”

“Take the time to do the same, Namjoon,” Jimin instructs. “You’ve worked hard on this trip.”
The guard bows as soon as he rises, once again overly formal, and the two of them take their
leave.

Jimin looks up at the alpha, features softening to find him already gazing back.

“Are you ready to enjoy a real bath with hot water?”

“What do you mean? I quite enjoyed bathing in the icy stream.”

Jimin laughs, delighted when the rogue’s serious expression melts into a warm smile, eyes fond,
witnessing the way Jeongguk’s features turn thoughtful again, something clearly weighing heavily
on his mind.

“Tell me,” Jimin urges, and he doesn’t need to elaborate before he’s being answered.

“I want to be by your side when you address the alphas from the north,” he admits, hesitant almost,
as if worried how he'll respond to the request.

To have Jeongguk beside him once more will be a definite statement, one that should be obvious
even to the more oblivious members of the pack that he is giving Jeongguk a place of favor, and as
an unmated omega and an unmated alpha, it should be apparent why. Jeongguk is neither a guard
nor a steward, leaving only one plausible conclusion for him to stand by Jimin's side.

It’s a declaration without the need for words, and one Jimin is more than prepared to make as
many times as it takes.

“Of course you’ll be by my side,” he answers softly and with confidence. “I wouldn’t want you
anywhere else.”
The alpha is visibly relieved, and the two smile at each other for a moment before Jimin finally
regains his feet.

“Come, I’ll not have my bath water turn cold.”

Jeongguk snorts, motioning for Jimin to go first before following after. They part ways once they
reach Jimin’s door, and he notes that the hall is no longer guarded. After all, Jeongguk isn't an
escape risk, nor is he a threat to anyone. Still, after the attempt on his life, he’s considering asking
for the extra security back.

Inside his room, a wooden tub waits for him at the center, steam curling invitingly along the
water’s surface, and Jimin wants to weep in gratitude, vowing to never take hot water in winter for
granted again.

He disrobes, standing nude before the tub when a thought occurs to him.

Or more of an urge that will neither be ignored nor denied. Jimin gazes at the still water and
doesn’t get in. Instead, he turns away, pulls on his fur winter cloak until he’s fully covered, and
leaves his room. He doesn’t knock on Jeongguk’s door when he reaches it, and instead tries the
latch, relieved when it gives way. Quietly, he enters, closing the door behind him and sliding the
lock in place.

In the center of the room, Jeongguk already lounges in his own bath, head tilted back to rest on the
smooth wooden lip, exposing and elongating his throat in such an attractive way, that Jimin feels
desire burn inside him, teeth aching to bite. The alpha looks up, sensitive hearing no doubt picking
up on his entry, and he stares at him almost blankly, labored breaths giving him away as he takes in
the cloak securely wrapped around Jimin.

“You’re finished already? That was impossibly fast.”

Despite his words, his voice wavers, clearly suspecting something, and instead of answering, Jimin
slowly pushes the cloak off of his shoulders, revealing flushed skin inch by inch until the fur slips
to the floor, baring him completely, the sound loud in the quiet of the room.

Water ripples as it's displaced, Jeongguk shooting up into a seated position before he stills
completely, eyes as wide as his mouth, though they rove over Jimin’s form in a different kind of
hunger, and Jimin is eager to be devoured.

“I thought to myself…why should I bathe alone?”

His voice is soft, purposefully so, and Jeongguk hangs off of every word, taking a deep breath only
after he’s done talking.

“Jimin,” he starts, as if he doesn’t know whether to enthusiastically invite him forward or caution
against this, waiting to see which way he’ll fall.

But Jimin knows what he wants. Can see it just beneath the steam and the surface of the water,
already thick and hard between the alpha’s legs.

“Can you smell me?” He rasps, baring his neck with intent, polianthes and petrichor so strong and
heady he’s practically dizzy with it, and he watches as Jeongguk's pupils expand so wide they
nearly swallow the iris along with the whites of his eyes.

“Y-Yes," Jeongguk stutters, sounding strangled. “I can smell you.”

It’s the smell of something carnal and primitive, something that goes beyond heat and desire,
because Jimin wants this for what it is. Not as a byproduct of instincts and biology, but because he
yearns for it.
“You wouldn’t send me away smelling like this, would you? Not when it’s all for you.”

“No, I…I wouldn’t send you away,” he promises, visibly struggling to swallow as he leans further
forward in the tub, as if trying to physically get closer.

Jimin smiles coyly, stepping away from his discarded cloak to approach Jeongguk’s frozen form,
feeling confidence at the way he gapes at him, mouth wide open and clearly pleased by what he
sees.

Deliberately slow, Jimin lifts one leg and submerses it, holding his hand out for the alpha, who
eagerly takes it in his own, keeping him steady as he then lifts the other leg until he’s in the tub
with Jeongguk, who gazes up at him with what he can only describe as adoration.

Carefully positioning himself, Jimin sinks down into the water, lowering until his knees hit the
smooth bottom and he straddles the alpha, arms wrapping around Jeongguk’s neck, allowing his
fingers to bury themselves in the long strands of his damp hair, while Jeongguk’s own hands grip
into the backs of his thighs, using his leverage to pull Jimin in even closer until their bodies slot
together perfectly.

“Can I kiss you,” Jimin breathes into what little space there is between them.

“You can do whatever you want to me.”

The claim makes him smile, and Jimin feels that delicious heat burn brighter in his belly.

“Oh the power you’ve given me,” he grins just before their lips meet.
It isn’t gentle, nor is it on the opposite end of the spectrum, but a perfect blend of soft and rough,
teeth nipping at his bottom lip, making it sting and swell before a tongue soothes that away. Their
mouths slant over each other, and Jimin wants Jeongguk distracted, so that he takes no note of
where his hands are.

As they slip down underwater, Jimin blindly searches until his fingers encircle—

The alpha jerks in his hold, teeth biting down on his lip in response, causing Jimin to moan into his
mouth at the same time Jeongguk does the same, his grip tightening along the heat of his cock as a
consequence. The alpha releases him, head falling back against the lip of the tub in his pleasure,
but Jimin follows, burying his face in his neck to speak his next words into his skin.

“Feels like I’ve waited forever to touch you like this.”

They’ve only been this close once before, out on the plains, relatively recent, but it still feels like a
fever dream to Jimin, not a fully formed memory, but hazy and soft around the edges.

This time it's different. Not a result of harrowing circumstances, but tangible. Present.

Jimin wants more.

“There’s so much I want to do with you. To you,” he confesses. “I want it all.”

“You can have it,” Jeongguk swears, pulling his head back up, pupils completely blown, the iris
morphing into a deep glowing crimson that steals Jimin’s breath away, the alpha’s carefully crafted
control slipping.
Deliberately, Jimin pumps his hand, addicted to the way Jeongguk reacts, how he falls apart,
because he did that.

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“You’re already an expert at that, sweetheart,” Jeongguk whines, and though the words are sweet,
they’re far too put together.

Jimin wants to make the alpha come undone.

He speeds up his hand, experimenting with pressure and twisting his wrist just so, but is sure to
stroke all the way from the base to the head, swiping his thumb over the slit on every other
upstroke, pleased when Jeongguk gives a long, rumbling groan.

“Gods, look at you,” Jimin whispers, taking in flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and the quivering form
beneath him, the alpha practically coming apart in his vice-like grip. His hands splash into the
water, fumbling to Jimin’s own lap, uncoordinated and clumsy, but Jimin bats him away, smiling
over the pout he gives in response.

“Wanna make you feel good too,” he complains, and Jimin is beyond endeared.

“Later. Focus on yourself now. Your own pleasure. That is what’ll make me feel good.”

Jeongguk grits his teeth as he moans, canines slightly elongated, and when his hands come back up
to grip the edge of the tub, Jimin can see that his nails have grown as well, sharp points digging
into the wood.

Their bodies move and slip against one another, the water forming waves from the motion, rocking
them along as if swept up in the tide. In response, Jimin grips him tighter, not wanting to be
dislodged, and at the base of Jeongguk's arousal he can feel the swell of his knot forming, nearly
rendered useless with the discovery. His omega practically salivates at the sight alone, distorted as
it is beneath the rippling surface, and fascinated himself, he can't help but give it his full attention.
With each pass of his hand over the girth of the swollen flesh; no matter how gentle, Jeongguk
hisses and cries, clearly sensitive.

Jimin’s smile is dangerous, a precursor to his actions.

“One day I’ll have this inside me.”

Jeongguk gasps at the words, evolving into a choked moan when Jimin's whole hand wraps around
the knot, and he gives it a squeeze before twisting his palm, dragging the skin up and up, over the
sensitive head, finger digging into the slit once more before soothing it back down again.

His cock jumps in his hold, pulsing as it seems to grow thicker, and Jimin wishes he could get a
better look, wishes he could—

"Wanna taste."

Jimin doesn't realize he's spoken that confession aloud until Jeongguk’s eyes roll up into the back
of his head, and the noises he lets out are more wolf than man when he snarls, bringing them even
closer. He doesn't have time to move his arms away, and as a consequence they're trapped between
Jeongguk's chest and his own, effectively immobilizing him. The alpha pulls his body up further
still, and Jimin's breath hitches when that big cock manages to force itself between his cheeks, the
water and his own slick easing the way once the rogue begins to rut against him, Jimin jolting
when that swollen head continuesly catches on his wet entrance with every frantic thrust, the
pressure exquisite, turning him into a babbling mess when it only just breaches his hole before
slipping back out again, the clutch of his body devasted at having to let him go. Jeongguk releases
continuous feral growls as he does so, somehow stopping himself from slamming fully inside,
calloused hands tracing the curve of his back while they slide down farther still until his palms
perfectly conform to his backside, pulling his cheeks apart to allow for his cock to better nestle
between before pressing them together to create more friction against the heated flesh, Jimin
swearing he can feel the shape of his knot searing into his skin as he fucks his hips.
The alpha is frantic now, letting out these little pleading whines while he chases his pleasure,
Jimin's own cock rubbing against his taut chest while his hole spasms and flutters with the urge to
be filled, and he's never felt so euphoric and unsatisfied at once, his body burning while crying out
for the alpha to fully claim him. To mate him.

But then Jeongguk's body tightens as if a stretched string ready to snap before he shudders, the
tension being siphoned from his limbs. Heat floods over Jimin's skin as the water turns foggy with
his release, and all the while he whispers encouragement and praise, his hands finally free once the
alpha's hold lessons, and he lowers one back down into the water between his legs to wrap around
Jeongguk's knot, captivated while kneading him through his prolonged orgasm until the knot
deflates and his breathing finally evens out, body still trembling but spent.

It’s a slow process for Jeongguk to regain his composure, and Jimin watches him through it all,
noting the subtle change in his eyes, the way his teeth aren’t quite so long anymore, nails turning
blunt.

“You now. You too,” Jeongguk babbles nonsensically as he tries to touch him with uncoordinated
limbs, and Jimin is more fond than anything that the alpha is so eager to return the pleasure.

“Shhh, we have time,” he reassures, repositioning himself on Jeongguk’s lap, wet hands framing
his face, sliding up towards his ears until his fingers sink into his hair, the alpha’s gaze fixated on
him.

When their lips meet this time it’s slow. Methodical. Jimin savors the taste of him on his tongue,
the feel of him along his mouth, and the fire that burns between them.

The alpha pulls him in even closer, trapping Jimin’s cock against their abdomens as a different kind
of heat ignites in his eyes.

“Look,” he instructs, his own gaze traveling down, and Jimin does the same.
Jeongguk’s hands grip onto his hips, and with the leverage he has he gently guides him to move
until he’s thrusting against Jeongguk’s wet, glistening naval, his cock finding friction in the dips
that make up his muscles.

It’s obscene.

The image only intensifies his arousal until Jimin feels desperate with it, moving his hips on his
own in an almost frenzied manner, watching the way his cock continues to rub against the alpha,
and remembering how Jeongguk lost himself to his own pleasure, the sight seared into his mind
and heightening the experience.

The finger at his entrance catches him by surprise, and Jimin stills, looking back down to meet his
mate’s gaze.

“Do you want me to?”

The answer should be obvious, but Jimin will always indulge him.

“Please, alpha.”

The title visibly affects Jeongguk, and it’s all he needs before that same finger is plunging deep
inside of his wet heat.

Jimin’s hips begin moving again as if uncontrollable, but he’s too overwhelmed to decide where to
focus his attention. To either rut into Jeongguk’s skin, or fall back to meet his fingers.
Too difficult a decision to make.

Jeongguk doesn’t let him dwell on it, and with one hand he controls the speed of his gyrating hips
while the other locates that spot inside of him that causes copious amounts of slick to leak from his
entrance and has him seeing stars. The same stars that burn brightly in the alpha’s eyes.

His head falls forward, but Jeongguk’s teeth nip at his ear in admonishment.

“Keep watching,” he orders, and Jimin whines high in his throat but obeys, experiencing a familiar
pressure coiling in his belly.

It’s too much, and his hips stutter in their rhythm, a sensitivity coming over him that feels so good
it’s almost painful.

“Alpha—”

The word is transformed into a deafening cry, echoing out into the room when Jeongguk’s teeth
deliberately scrape over his scent gland, and Jimin’s body arches back like a bow notched with an
arrow, released with the culmination of his pleasure.

Jimin is sure his eyes are open, but all he can see is an explosion of vibrant colors as his climax
rockets through him, body trembling so violently that Jeongguk’s arms tighten their hold so that he
doesn’t slip, teeth still gripping on to the flesh of his neck, but not enough to pierce the skin.

Jimin’s breathing is overly loud in the room, but gradually it begins to quiet and even out, his focus
returning in increments. Jeongguk’s mouth gently releases him, and when Jimin opens his eyes and
meets his gaze, there’s warmth emanating from the alpha’s features, and it’s so strong and
prominent that Jimin feels surrounded by it, like a blanket that's soaked in the heat of the sun.
“There you are, sweetheart.”

He beams dopily back at him, wanting nothing more than to burrow into his arms and drift away,
but Jeongguk looks down before he can, and once again, Jimin’s gaze follows.

“I think I was cleaner before I stepped into the bath,” he jests as they stare at the way Jimin’s
release decorates his chest.

It’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but snort, and at the offended look the alpha gives, he only
laughs harder, collapsing down into him.

Jeongguk can’t pretend to be upset for long, and soon he joins him, the two giggling into each
other’s skin like adolescent pups.

They wash off with the clean water in the bucket on the side of the tub before drying themselves,
and Jimin kisses the alpha thoroughly, redonning his cloak.

“You can rest now, if you wish. I’ll come get you when it’s time to make our way to the Great
Hall.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?”

“I’ll be fine, alpha. It’s less than twenty feet.”

“A fair distance when we’re apart.”

Jimin giggles into his skin again, and like before Jeongguk follows.

“You and your pretty words.”

“I was being sincere,” Jeongguk faux-pouts, and just for that, Jimin gives him another kiss.

“Rest. I have reports to go over.”

The alpha makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, but watches him go without protest.

Once he returns to the safety of his room, Jimin dresses and then goes over the accounts Seokjin
compiled for him. From guard rounds, to supply updates, to the health status of those who are still
sick or recovering, Jimin looks through it all, only pausing when Hanyu brings a plate of food up to
him, her nutmeg and creme scent thickening as she enthusiastically welcomes him back, forgoing
her usual timid demeanor to do so.

Jimin thanks her sincerely, and when she leaves he pushes and pokes at the food on his plate, more
interested in catching up than he is with eating, taking only a few bites before dropping his fork.

When his eyes burn and he can read no longer, Jimin then crawls into bed, and though it is not the
one that smells of rosemary and cloves he still finds comfort in it, grateful it is not a pallet of furs
on the cold damp ground.

Sleep claims him, for how long is uncertain, but it feels far too soon when his eyes fly open to the
sound of a knock at his door.

“Come in,” he calls, voice raspy as he sits up, the room spinning when he does so too fast, stomach
feeling unsettled with his meager meal.
Taehyung enters, and Jimin musters up an exhausted smile for him.

“Are you alright? You don’t look well.”

Waving away the concern, Jimin nods.

“Just tired. The journey took a toll on me.”

“I’ve heard that can happen when someone tries to kill you.”

With a shock, Jimin realizes this is the first they’ve spoken about it, the subject far too dangerous
to bring up even in the wagon.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself—”

“Don’t be. Namjoon explained everything. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Thank you. To have it end in such a way was upsetting, but It so easily could’ve gone the other
way. I had no suspicion of her, and that made me come to terms with the fact that there could be
others, lying in wait for their chance.”

“Then you should never be alone," Tae decides. "Don’t give them the opportunity.”
Jimin nods in agreement, though even with such a measure in place, he wonders if it’ll be enough.

“Come,” Taehyung encourages. “The rest of the pack is waiting for us.”

Jimin climbs off of his bed, and with the other omega’s help he fixes his hair and dresses for the
occasion until they both deem him presentable, and then they make their way to Jeongguk’s room
to collect him.

Taking the alpha’s offered arm, the three of them descend the stairs towards the Great Hall.

The closer they get the more Jimin’s stomach turns. Not only does he have to address the village
on what happened out on the plains, but he also has to speak to the group of alphas from the north,
and that thought alone is a nauseating one. He has no idea if they’ll even take him seriously,
mostly ignorant to the ways of the Lee pack, or the state of mind of a group of alphas.

A hand squeezes his own, and Jimin looks up into Jeongguk’s concerned gaze.

“Are you alright? You’re anxious.”

Their shared connection—though they do not yet have a mating mark—doesn’t leave much room
for guessing, and Jeongguk likely experiences a slightly dimmer version of what he’s feeling, but
doesn’t completely understand that feeling's cause.

“I’m okay," Jimin tries to reassure him, hoping he’ll reassure himself in the process. “I just don’t
know what to expect.”

“Whatever happens, I’ll be right beside you.”

“I know,” he whispers in gratitude, taking a deep breath before looking away.

The Great Hall is a symphony of voices, rising up to echo through the rafters, but they seem to
diminish with Jimin’s appearance, the three of them making their way up onto the dais where that
familiar intimidating chair awaits him.

Jeongguk leads him to it, and when he takes his seat, his hand slips from the alpha's arm, but he
takes up position on his right side, Namjoon already standing at his left with Yoongi just behind
him and Seokjin moving closer to Jeongguk while Tae stands off to the side, his familiar writing
supplies waiting for him on a makeshift podium in case he wants to take notes.

When Jimin is ready, he turns and nods at Namjoon.

With a series of silent gestures, the doors to the opposite end of the room open up, and a group of
men Jimin has never seen before enter. There's eight of them in total, built typically like alphas, of
course. Broad in the shoulders, some burly and tall. They take up a lot of space in an already big
room, as if purposefully trying to increase their size as an animal would to a predator in order to
intimidate.

Jimin will not be intimidated.

The group stops in the open space just before the dais, and they eye Jimin with dubiety, clearly not
what they were expecting.

One of the alphas at the front breaks away from the others, features pinched but intrigued as his
eyes travel up and down Jimin's seated form. His gaze doesn't sit right with him, and from the way
Jeongguk restlessly shifts at his side, he can tell he feels the same.

"I was told we would be addressing the lord of this pack."

"You were told correctly," Jimin calls, keeping his voice steady while his face remains devoid of
any emotion. “I’m Park Jimin, son of the head alpha of the Park pack and lord while my father is
indisposed.”

The same male alpha introduces himself, likely the self-proclaimed leader of the group if Jimin had
to make a guess.

“Choi Haesoon,” he greets, his gaze once again too bold as it surveys Jimin with a purposeful lack
of subtlety, appearing far too lecherous for the omega to stomach.

Jeongguk takes a decisive step forward, a statement in itself and an obvious warning, though
Haesoon's eyes travel up to him, unimpressed.

"Does he belong to you?"

Jimin can feel Jeongguk's rage at the question, for it mirrors his own.

"He belongs to no one," Jeongguk growls, voice dipping low with his unmitigated fury.

The alpha seems to realize his mistake, likely working out that whatever he may be seeking here
will be denied out of principle due to his lack of respect.

"My apologies," he bows. "I meant no offense."

Rather than sincere, the gesture feels flippant. Dismissive.

Jimin refuses to acknowledge such behavior and instead holds his head higher.

“I’ve been told you seek refuge. That you wish to assimilate into our pack.”

“We do.”

“Why,” Jimin demands, and the blunt question seems to catch them off guard as they look to each
other before turning back.

“The ways of the north are inhospitable”

It’s not really an answer.

Jimin’s gaze roves over the group, his eyes landing on each of them but never lingering.

“There is not a beta nor an omega amongst you,” he points out, features hardening before asking
again, “Why?”

Jimin knows he’s bordering on being both challenging and confrontational, but even if he were to
put aside the objectification he's already faced, something still doesn’t feel right about the
situation. Maybe before he wouldn't have pressed, having always been more wary of alphas, but his
time spent with Jeongguk at his side—especially the visceral memory of what Jimin did to him
earlier in the bath, bringing him to completion and making him fall apart—has given him a kind of
courage and confidence he might not have had otherwise.

He feels powerful.
“Head alpha Lee doesn’t like competition for his interests,” Haesoon claims.

"His interests," Jimin repeats, stomach churning when the alpha gives him another unsubtle once
over.

Acid burns in his throat, knowing what he's implying, but Jimin cannot wrap his head around it. He
knows Lee to be mated; not that that is a deterrent by any means, but as far as he’s heard, there
have been no rumors about him keeping a harem of omegas. In fact, the first time Jimin met the
man was after his father became head alpha himself, and when discussing the story of Chulseok;
their previous mad leader, and why he challenged him, Lee had expressed disgust over such a
practice.

“And if I were to send word to the north, would they corroborate your story?”

The alpha’s eyes narrow slightly, though his voice is monotone with his reply.

“They see those that leave the pack as traitors. I doubt very much that Lee would admit to any
wrongdoing.”

Jimin’s fingers grip into the wooden chair so tight, he swears he can hear it creak, and he wonders
if the rest of the Great Hall can hear it too.

The story of how his father took power and why is well known. This feels a little bit too much like
they're catering to his sense of morality, playing on their pack's past in the hopes of kindling
understanding.

It's just a bit too convenient for him to trust, knowing what he does of the north.
“I understand your desire for another pack, another community, but I’m afraid as of right now, that
is impossible. We lack enough supplies for our own as it is, and since you come from beyond the
mountain, I’m sure you are aware how harsh these months can be. But even if a lack of resources
wasn't a factor, our pack has been afflicted with an unknown illness that has already proven fatal,
and as such I cannot condone bringing in others to potentially suffer the same. You’re free to
traverse our lands outside our walls to proposition a different pack to the east, west or south if you
wish. Or you can wait out the winter in the boat house you’re acquainted with beyond our gates.
What little we can spare is yours if you so choose, but we cannot offer more than that.”

The alpha stares him down, gaze intent though he tries to maintain a certain air of charm.

“You’re sure I cannot get you to change your mind?”

Jimin's skin crawls with the continued interest in his gaze, unswayed.

“I’m sure.”

They lock eyes for a moment, Haesoon’s slowly sliding up to peer just over his shoulder at
Jeongguk before returning to Jimin, an unnerving twist to his lips.

“If it’s all the same to you, we might take you up on your offer of the boat house while we discuss
our options.”

"Of course."

Again Haesoon bows, the gesture insincere in Jimin's eyes.

"You have our gratitude."

He nods in finality and dismissal, watching the group turn and walk away.

Guilt seeps into him; granted he knows he made the right choice, but Jimin is also acutely aware of
the fact that had it been a group of omega's or even betas with the same request, his decision might
have been different.

But he cannot ignore his intuition, and his intuition is warning him to stay far away from that
group.

As the alphas pass through the room, Haesoon stops, addressed by one of the members of Jimin’s
own pack, the words too quiet for him to hear from his position, and when he looks at who stopped
them, Jimin's stomach falls.

It’s Doyun.

Heart racing, he nearly flies out of his chair, mouth opening to demand what it is they speak of
when the conversation abruptly ends, Haesoon pushing his way out of the room, the guards
waiting to escort the group back out of the village.

Once gone, conversations resonate throughout the Great Hall, quiet murmurings turning into
deafening shouts by the sheer volume of them, and Jimin feels an unignorable ache at the back of
his skull, spreading along his temples. The sudden pain so bad his vision doubles, but he grits his
teeth through the pain and bears it, forcing himself to reveal no outward sign of its existence.

His closed fist goes up, and quickly enough the hall quiets down once more.
“The issue of the alphas from the north is unfortunately not the only reason I have asked you here
today. And while I do want to update everyone on the outcome of the hunt, that is not the only
reason either.”

Jimin lets his words sink in, taking the time to indulge in a deep breath and gather himself before
continuing.

“I’m sure many of you either saw or heard about the wagons laden with game, but if you didn’t,
I’m pleased to inform you that the hunt was a success. I’m confident that we have enough to see
every one of us through winter.”

A relieved hum seems to overtake the crowd, and Jimin allows himself to partake in it as well. His
pack won’t starve, of that he made sure of, and it is a huge weight off of his shoulders that no one
will have to go without.

He allows them a moment of celebration before he ruins it.

“It’s wonderful news, yes. But I’m afraid I must inform you of something grave and unsettling.”

The pack is silent once more, all eyes fixed on him, and Jimin takes an unsteady breath this time
and prolongs it no longer.

“Some of you may have also heard that Naeri has been unwell, and I apologize for the falsity, but
that is untrue. On our last night on the plains, an attempt was made on my life, carried out by Naeri
herself.”

Instantly, the Great Hall erupts into chaos, Jimin’s headache flaring into a full fledged migraine at
the intensity of it. There’s yelling, cries of outrage and fear. There are those who are visibly upset,
people who are talking over each other, and some even appear to be arguing with one another as
the crowd works itself up into a frenzy.

Jimin allows them this, but only because he knows a raised fist or even a whistle is likely to be
ignored. A few moments later, when their curiosity outweighs their outrage and they realize they
won't gain further answers if they continue, their voices die down and Jimin resumes his speech.

“Unfortunately, when she realized her plan was going to fail, rather than suffer the consequences,
Naeri took her own life.”

Another collective gasp rings out, and before it can get out of hand again, Jimin presses on.

“Despite what she attempted to do, I understand there were those who cared for her and therefore
must be reeling from this. As such I’ve had Naeri’s body brought home, and if any of you wish to
give her a funeral pyre you may speak to any of the guards and they’ll accommodate you free of
judgement.”

It’s silent for a moment, as no one seems to know what to say, but then a voice rings out.

“Why say she was sick?”

Jimin recognizes the male omega, though he cannot place a name, and he’s grateful that his
question is only curious and not accusing.

“I’m sure I’m not alone when I say this came as a shock. When Naeri tried to kill me, it was
unexpected. Being out on the plains with a limited group, we felt vulnerable, and I was advised to
try and keep the truth hidden until we were able to safely make it back home so that everyone
could be informed.”
He doesn’t want to allude to the fact that there could be more people who hold the same intention,
and the omega seems satisfied with the answer.

“How did it happen?” Another voice calls, and Jimin takes it in the literal sense as he cannot
provide an answer otherwise.

“She waited until I was away from the group and then tried to shoot me down. When that didn’t
work, she stabbed herself.”

"Was anyone else with you?"

Jimin looks in the direction the question came from and replies.

"Jeongguk and Namjoon we're with me."

“Did she say why?” Another distressed voice asks, and Jimin eyes the crowd, expression empty
when he answers.

“She said I was not worthy.”

The quiet sneaks in, and Jimin can suffer it no longer, his head pounding, nausea taking hold and
refusing to let go, forcing him to desperately seek an end to this audience.

“I know many of you must still be confused, for I am just as lost. But unfortunately my time is
limited, so if you have further questions I invite you to pose them to my steward, Captain Namjoon,
or Seokjin.”
With that, Jimin inclines his head and rushes out of the Great Hall, not waiting for anyone to catch
up to him as he practically flies to his room, sweat gathering at his hairline and along his lower
back, dripping down the curve of his spine. He feels both hot and cold, teeth practically clacking
together when he throws the door to his room open and latches it behind him.

Jimin makes it to the basin just in time to retch into it, the few measly bites from his lunch coming
back up, though the majority of it is bile. When his body finally stops convulsing and he no longer
has anything left to lose, Jimin leans his forehead against the cool porcelain and breathes, disgusted
by the smell in the air and the taste in his mouth.

His eyes blink open and steadily his vision clears of the haze and the tears; a natural response to
what his body has been put through.

As soon as he's able to refocus and take in his surroundings, Jimin’s heart stops at what he sees.

Before, when they simply thought the pack was suffering from fevers or common winter sickness,
that particular theory was done away with as soon as Jimin's father started coughing up blood,
followed soon after by other members suffering the same, and that was when the healers realized
the village was being afflicted with an unknown plague. It was a precursor to what befell them, and
one of the first clear signs that something was truly and terribly wrong.

There in the bowl, intermixed with the sick, is blood.

For a moment, he doesn't understand what it's doing there, or where it came from. But when Jimin
glances up into the looking glass above the basin, wide, panicked eyes stare back at him, skin
unnaturally pale. Yet that is not the basis for his sudden fear.

Crimson decorates his bottom lip, and behind Jimin's eyes he sees a vision of Naeri staring back at
him almost mockingly, her own mouth speckled with red.

He's caught it. He's sick.

And if this new development is anything to go by, Jimin doesn't have much time before it worsens.
 Death Rattle
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jimin stands frozen at the basin, blood dripping down from the sides of the stark white bowl,
intermixed with the minimal contents of his stomach. When he glances back up at his reflection, he
frantically wipes at his trembling bottom lip, trying to get rid of the evidence there.

He has to hide this. All of this.

Panicked, heart palpitating in his chest, his eyes search his chambers, landing on the row of closed
windows, revealing that just beyond, snow has begun to fall, lining the outer ledge in soft powder.
He rushes to the glass, nearly losing his footing twice along the way before sliding the lock free on
one of the panes, and tries desperately to pull it open. But it won’t budge at first, likely frozen, and
Jimin gives it a good yank, a small sigh of relief escaping him when it comes unstuck.

Cold air lashes through the room, biting at his exposed skin like the sharp points of knives, and
quickly he carries the basin over to the window, strangely struggling under its weight. Making sure
there’s no one around, he tosses the contents out, watching as it lands in the snow below, sinking
down to be covered by the still falling flakes.

Closing the window again, he cleans the bowl thoroughly and puts it back in its place, and then
takes tooth powder to his mouth, scrubbing until his gums hurt and his taste buds dull.

It feels like he can barely breathe. Like he's having a panic attack…

But it won’t be long before the others come looking for him—until Jeongguk comes looking for
him, if he isn’t already—and he needs to be gone by then, praying that those in the Great Hall are
keeping them busy with their questions and concerns.

Flying out of his room and down the corridor as if he’s being chased, he nearly crashes into
Hanyu, his usual server.

“My lord,” she greets with wide eyes, her cream and nutmeg scent soothing, features overtaken
with worry. “I was just coming to collect your plate from your midday meal—are…are you alright?
You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” Jimin practically pants, sweat falling from his hairline, the likes of which he can also
feel dripping down the small of his back, as if he’s exerted himself more than he has. “I-I’m
sorry,” he stammers, white spots exploding in his vision, feeling suddenly faint and desperate for
an excuse. “I just remembered I was supposed to speak with Hoseok. I have to—”

“I’ll escort you to him,” Hanyu offers, clearly sensing something is wrong, and the other omega
holds her arm out for him to take, features morphing steadily into a frown as he wavers on his feet.

Jimin is so relieved he doesn’t even argue, accepting it gratefully and allowing her to lead him
down the corridor and back towards his room—where she picks up the leftovers of his lunch—
before they make their way to the servant’s stairs, meeting no one on their way down. They drop
the mostly uneaten food off at the kitchens, where Jimin smiles in greeting at Minhei who is
working at one of the stations prepping food, and he must look a sight because the beta also shows
a bit of apprehension when he looks upon him, brows creased as he tries to smile back.

Hanyu leads him out of the Great Lodge from the side door off of the kitchens without incident,
the snowfall not yet so tumultuous, though they still cling to each other in support, making the trek
down into the village and towards the healers infirmary where Hoseok will undoubtedly be. When
they finally arrive, Hanyu stops just outside the door, apprehension still apparent in her gaze once
she turns to him.

“Would you like for me to wait for you my lord? I could walk you back.”

Jimin hesitates, almost saying yes before deciding against it and shaking his head.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll have Hoseok escort me back, but thank you for all of your help,
truly.”

She bows her head to him and Jimin watches as she retraces their steps and travels the same path to
return to the lodge. When she’s a good enough distance away, he finally knocks on the door, his
breath released in shallow, visible puffs of air with each exhale, and he tightens his cloak further
around himself to conserve warmth.

Hoseok answers in less than a minute, his magnified spectacles pulled over his eyes to make them
appear even wider, surprise written in his features.

“My lord? What brings you here?”

Jimin’s voice wavers tellingly when he answers the healer's question with a question of his own.

“May we speak inside?”

“Of course,” Hoseok assures, glancing over Jimin’s shoulder before ushering him in and closing
the door behind him.

The infirmary is blessedly empty to Jimin’s relief, and he can’t help but comment on it.

“What of the others who fell ill?”

“It’s taken time, but they’ve all recovered enough to either take care of themselves or be looked
after at home by family.”
“If there is no one in need of your services, can you lock the door please? I have a private matter I
must speak to you about.”

The lines on Hoseok’s forehead deepen, but he slides the lock into place without question, standing
still momentarily before he takes him deeper into the infirmary, where a modest sectioned off area
is designated as his office and examination room. He motions for Jimin to have a seat in front of
the desk before doing the same behind it, all formalities shed in the face of his worry.

“Jimin? What’s wrong? You look upset, and your complexion...” he trails off, seemingly unsure of
what to say.

Taking a deep stuttering inhale, Jimin gathers his nerves as best he can and decides to reveal the
truth outright in order to get it over with.

“I’m sick, Hoseok.”

His brow furrows further in confusion at the statement, as if he cannot fathom the magnitude of
what the omega is admitting. But then his fraser fir scent spikes when realization seems to dawn as
steadily as a sunrise, his eyes widening even further behind his magnified spectacles, expression
stricken, and it would be almost comical in different circumstances.

“Are you—you’re sure?”

“There was blood in my sick,” he states plainly. “I’m sure.”

A heaviness takes over the room, suffocating in the gravity of his confession, and the healer clearly
suffers from it, gaze downcast, lips parted while Jimin tries to remain calm. If he loses his
composure now, he’s afraid he’ll never get it back again.
“Do you know when the symptoms first started?”

Slowly, Jimin shakes his head even as he tries to think on it.

“Not with any real certainty. I’ve been feeling unwell for sometime now. I even missed my heat.”

“You missed your heat? Have you and Jeongguk—”

“No,” Jimin quickly denies with a small shake of his head, “we haven’t. I just attributed it to stress.
Explained it away. Same with the headaches and lack of appetite. My exhaustion…I thought it was
all stress, until today.”

“Who else knows?”

Jimin’s eyes meet his, and his voice has an edge to it when he replies.

“No one. And I’d prefer to keep it that way for now.”

Hoseok nods in understanding, though the sigh he gives is weary, hands reaching up to remove his
glasses and place them on his desk, fingers rubbing harshly into the lids of his eyes.

“May I examine you? It might give me an idea as to the severity of the illness.”

“Of course,” Jimin murmurs, allowing the healer to lead him over to his examination bench, where
he lifts himself up onto it with shaking limbs and waits.
Hoseok has a bag of instruments he sorts through, most of which Jimin couldn’t name if he tried,
but he sits still as the beta presses something against his chest, eyes narrowed while he instructs
him to breathe.

Jimin breathes, a wet sound clicking at the back of his throat, the urge to cough almost too strong
to ignore. Hoseok surmises as much and brings over a pristine white hankerchief for him to hold up
to his mouth and cough into, continuing to inhale through his nose and exhale through his mouth as
many times as he’s asked. When he goes to put that particular tool away, Jimin lowers the cloth
from his face, rendered motionless when he sees the crimson staining the delicate fabric.

Like blood in the snow.

Hoseok’s eyes follow his gaze, and a small distressed noise loosens from the back of his throat as
he takes the handkerchief from him, depositing it in the basket of waste before he moves to the
pitcher of water in the corner where he pours some in a mug and returns with it.

“Here,” he whispers, carefully handing it over. “You can wash your mouth out with this.”

Jimin accepts the cup, forcefully ignoring the tremor in his hand as he takes a large drink but
doesn’t swallow, pushing the water around inside his mouth for several seconds and spitting it back
out into the mug, the taste of copper dulled, the once clean water turned pink. Hoseok takes it from
him and leans to the side to set it on the nearby countertop.

“Sorry,” Jimin can’t help but apologize, his gaze on the ruined handkerchief peeking out from the
basket, and Hoseok sounds wrecked when he waves the gesture away.

“Don’t concern yourself. I have tons more.”

Redonning his spectacles, the healer looks at his eyes, humming to himself, a frown converting his
usual cheerful features. Then he instructs him to open his mouth and lower his tongue as best he
can, examining what he is able to see of his throat.

Taking something else from the bag, Hoseok carefully moves Jimin's cloak aside and taps
something hard just under his knees, legs barely twitching with each impact. He puts that away as
well, and then warm fingers search over his neck, feeling along the skin. Even the slightest
pressure hurts, which Hoseok can clearly see from the wince in his features, and immediately
removes his hands with a sigh that Jimin knows is not a good sign.

“Your lungs sound as if they're already filled with fluid, and your heart rate is too quick. Pupil
response as well as reflexes are slow and your throat is swollen," he takes in a deep shuddering
breath, clearly not handling it well. "I can give you a supply of herbs that might make you more
comfortable for the time being, but that’s all they’re good for. You know what this means.”

“I do. I don’t have much time.”

“If it worsens,” Hoseok interjects, needing to make that distinction. “It might not go the way it
went with your father. It could get better.”

Jimin gifts him with an indulging smile, but they both know that could very well be wishful
thinking.

“What are you going to do?” the healer finally asks into the quiet, even so, Jimin still feels like he
strains to hear him. “This isn’t something you can hide forever.”

“I know. If I do share the same fate as my father, there will be no one after me to take over, and
everything we’ve built will fall. I need to take a mate. Now.”

“And what of Jeongguk? Will you not tell him?”

Jimin’s gaze lowers, twisting his tunic in knots before he sighs and forces himself to release the
material.

“I will,” he decides, even though it will kill him to do so.

Just the thought of his expression when he learns of the news is enough to break his heart.

“I will,” he repeats, resolving himself to it, trying to force his trembling hands still. “He’ll need to
know if we are to proceed.”

It’s silent again, both of them unsure as to what to say until Jimin breaks it, trying to keep his voice
from quivering when he asks, “Can you tell me what to expect? If this worsens, that is? My father
hid his own ailments from me for as long as he could.”

And the betrayal of that should be a lesson to not repeat his mistakes.

He cannot keep this to himself.

Hoseok takes a deep breath, nodding when he answers with a strained voice, clearly struggling.

“Common symptoms we’ve seen so far are nausea, headache, stomach pain and vomiting.”

“I’ve experienced all those,” he reveals, watching as Hoseok nods again.

“As this progresses, it’s likely you’ll feel chest pain, muscle cramps or spasms, high fever, shallow
breathing, loss of senses, coughing up blood more frequently and even delirium.”

Jimin's breath hitches as he takes it in, trying not to become despondent over such a fate.

It hasn’t happened yet, he keeps telling himself. I’m still okay.

His chest heaves, but Jimin forces himself to settle, acceptance sinking into him like winter’s biting
chill.

“I’ll speak to Jeongguk. We’ll have to move quickly, if he’s agreeable.”

“He will be,” Hoseok reassures in a bid to offer comfort, and Jimin tries for another small smile in
gratitude, but fears he falls terribly short.

He wouldn't blame the alpha if he didn't want to. After all, if they mate and Jimin succumbs to the
illness, Jeongguk won't be far behind, their bond ensuring as much.

They will both die.

“What will we need in order to move forward with the mating ceremony?” he asks, more as a
distraction than anything.

“You’ll need someone to officiate. Since your father is bedridden, perhaps Haneul or I, or one of
the other healers could do it.”
“You,” Jimin says without hesitation. “You can do it.”

“I would be honored,” Hoseok gently answers, though there’s more than a tinge of sadness to his
voice. “You’ll also need two wolves on your side to bless the union, and Jeongguk will as well, of
course. Then the rest is just semantics.”

“Namjoon and Taehyung can stand for me, and Yoongi and Seokjin can do the same for
Jeongguk.”

Hoseok nods before he seems to remember something.

“I’ll also need his full name for our records,” he reveals, already going back towards his desk to
bring a blank sheet of parchment and quill that he quickly dips in ink. “And his birth year, if you
know it.”

Jimin is able to calculate the year based on Jeongguk’s age, and then recites his full name.

“Jeon Jeongguk.”

The quill slips from Hoseok’s hand, drops of ink staining the parchment, and Jimin watches it,
reminded of his blood in the handkerchief and basin bowl, eyes lifting slowly to see the way the
healer's lips have parted, their gazes locked, and something akin to dismay colors Hoseok's
features.

“Jeon?” he demands. “You said his family name is Jeon?”

“Yes. Haven’t I told you before?”

Hoseok is adamant when he shakes his head.

“You introduced him by first name only,” he murmurs to himself.

Jimin knows not what haunts the healer, or why it matters, but he remains patient as he waits for an
explanation, watching when Hoseok slowly turns, moving towards a chest that resides near his
desk. When he gets it open, he pulls free something wrapped in linen, cradling it with all the care
one would show a newborn pup as he brings it over to the bench to unfold the cloth and reveal
what's underneath. It's an old worn tome, and Jimin recognizes it instantly.

It’s the Book of the Pack.

Its pages house the names of every single wolf that’s ever been a part of their clan, including those
who have been on this land since the beginning, and those who have integrated after seeking
shelter and a new way of life. It details every pack alpha and their fate, along with that of every
wolf. There are dates from the time of birth to the time of death side by side with the cause of such,
and includes matings as well as pivotal events in their history.

Showing care to the old leather bound spine, Hoseok opens it, gesticulating wildly as he peruses its
pages.

“As you know, recently I had to record Jongdae’s death after he passed from the illness,” he begins
to explain, carefully thumbing through the old book. “While doing so, I happened to glance at
something I’ve never paid much attention to before—ah,” he exclaims, waving Jimin over and
pointing at a particular spot on the old parchment. “Look here.”

He slips from the bench, circling around Hoseok’s form to take in what he wants to show him.

There, underneath his finger, are a series of names.

Kim Jisoo with a red line—to symbolize a mating—connecting her to Jeon Jeongsu. And below
both their names, connected by the two, is another.

Jeon Jeongguk.

Jimin’s heart skips a beat, and he pulls the tome closer to him to inspect, careless in his disbelief.
The same birth year Jimin gave moments earlier is next to Jeongguk’s name in the book, but while
his father has both a birth and death date, adjacent to both Jisoo and Jeongguk’s names is a single
question mark written in black ink.

It can’t be.

His eyes take in the short description next to the date of Jeon Jeongsu’s death, eyes growing
progressively wider, heart sinking all the way down to the pit of his stomach.

Fallen in combat after challenging head alpha Chulseok.

And the date listed is the day before Jimin’s own father challenged the same head alpha and won.

The image of a man stepping from a gathered crowd flashes in his mind. The only person brave
enough to challenge the mad alpha and try to put an end to his reign of terror. The only one who
would not allow his son to be culled. A black wolf, collapsed in snow, surrounded by blood—

Jimin nearly collapses in on himself, a sudden dizzying spell overtaking him while Hoseok’s
concerned voice rings out, his hearing cutting out at points, vision swimming, and the beta’s
reflexes are the only thing that keep him from crashing to the ground, his arms catching him just in
time.
That was Jeongguk’s father nearly two decades ago. The black wolf he’s had nightmares about
since he was a pup and to this very day…was Jeongguk’s father.

Jeongguk was never a rogue.

He’s a member of his pack.

The infirmary fades away.

________________

Jimin comes to with a cool rag on his forehead and a pain in his chest that feels as if someone is
sitting on it, breathing made difficult.

“Oh thank the gods, you’re awake.”

Slowly, so as not to displace the compress, he turns his head, gaze landing on Hoseok hovering
above him, complexion pale, fear and relief warring with each other in his features.

“What happened?”

“You fainted, Jimin. Though after what you’ve just learned, I don’t blame you.”
It all comes back to him, his thoughts halted until only one rings out in his mind:

Oh.

From there it devolves into chaos.

But it’s not possible.

Is it?

Maybe…maybe Jeongguk doesn't know—

But how could he not?

He removes the cold cloth and goes to sit up, despite Hoseok trying to convince him otherwise.

“You need to take it slow. Rest.”

“I can’t,” he argues, and when the beta realizes he won’t be persuaded, he moves to help instead of
hinder, using his arms to pull him into a seated position.

Jimin grips onto him tightly, waiting for the nausea to pass while the room keeps spinning, until
eventually, that too subsides.
“Are you alright?”

His omega whines inside and hesitantly, Jimin shakes his head.

“No. I don’t think I am.”

Since the moment they brought Jeongguk here, and through everything they've been through after,
he’s been lied to.

And worst of all, there isn’t any real time to grieve that fact, to be angry or upset, because he
doesn’t know how much time he has. If his health will continue to deteriorate.

He's so lost. Like everything has been turned on its head, flipped on its side, and he's been left to try
and navigate this new world, to figure out which way is up, and which way is down.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

Or maybe, for the first time, everything does.

They sit together in silence, Jimin, with his racing thoughts, Hoseok, unsure as to what to say to
console him...

But there's a haze, the kind that blankets the fields before dawn, and Jimin stands in the thick of it,
eyes squinting in futility as he tries to see through a dense fog, unable to make out anything passed
the screen of smoke-like wisps, with nowhere to turn that provides clarity.
He has a lot to sort through and process. A lot to come to terms with, but the ever present
exhaustion is insurmountable, and all he really wants to do is to sleep for a fortnight and be
comforted, but since that is impossible, he needs to find something to distract himself. Something
that'll hold his attention and make him forget for a while.

“How’s Bongcha?”

There’s a short pause.

“The shire horse?”

“Yes. How’s she doing since we got back?”

Hoseok raises a brow, as if he can’t work out why they’re discussing this now.

“I helped move her into the stables. The stablemaster has her separated, but I’ve been assured he’ll
keep her comfortable and alert me to any changes.”

“I’d like to see her.”

“You—now? Are you sure?”

Jimin nods, and slowly he slips from the bench again, keeping still until he’s sure he’s steady on
his feet, Hoseok's hands bracketing him, likely afraid he'll fall for a second time.

“Will you accompany me?” he asks, watching while the beta's mouth opens and closes before
nodding.

“Of course.”

Slowly, and with careful steps, they make their way out of the infirmary and towards the stables,
the snow content to fall in thin lazy flakes, prolonging their descent. Jimin pulls his hood up so that
they can no longer melt in his hair, nor cling to his eyelashes, and forces himself to put one foot in
front of the other until they make it to their destination.

The usual smell of hay and earth that has always clung to the stables is tempered by the frost of
winter, but the general clamour remains the same, the sound of horse hooves stomping at the
ground coalescing with the whinnies of those that have already been locked in their stalls.

Hoseok leads him towards a larger enclosure at the back, where Bongcha lays in a bed of straw. As
soon as she spots Jimin, she moves to get up, seemingly forgetting about her injury before
discomfort eases her back down again. Immediately Jimin goes to her, kneeling down in the hay to
take her head in his hands, their foreheads bumping, and while he holds her he tries not to weep
over both their fates.

“How are you sweet girl?”

She huffs under her breath, pushing against his shoulder to test him, but Jimin won’t budge. He
supports her instead, holding on tighter as his fingers rub between her eyes and down her nose, dust
floating in the air and making his own nose twitch.

Hoseok comes into the stall with him, and while Jimin coos in the mare's ear to keep her attention,
the healer checks on her splint, eyes critical as they roam over her leg. He finally nods in
satisfaction, and pets over her shiny coat before leaving the stall again so that Jimin can sit with her
by himself.

He’s not sure how long he stays, appreciating the quiet while his mind eventually calms, getting
lost in the repetition of his hand smoothing down the length of her neck. And through it all,
Hoseok remains watchful from the stall gate, standing vigilant, and waits for him to gather
himself.

Finally, Jimin regains his feet, but before he leaves he gives her a sugarcube, the same one he
snuck into his pocket as soon as they entered the stables, and with a final scratch to her mane he
slowly returns to the beta’s side, still feeling unsteady.

“I know I’ve asked much of you today, but could you escort me back to the Great Lodge?”

“Of course, Jimin. It’s no trouble.”

“But before we do that, I’d like to return to the infirmary. I wish to borrow the Book of the Pack,”
he reveals, quickly offering reassurances. “I know how important it is. I promise I’ll take good care
of it.”

Hoseok agrees right away, likely willing to promise Jimin anything in that moment.

Taking the arm he offers, once more, they both make the trip to the infirmary, Jimin bookmarking
the still open page of the old tome with the corded leather attached to the spine, and then slowly
eases it closed, watching while Hoseok wraps it up again in the linen. He then collects the herbs he
spoke of earlier and places them in a clear jar, which he houses inside his satchel while Jimin hugs
the book to his chest.

"Do you want me to carry that?" The beta asks. "It's quite heavy."

Jimin automatically goes to decline, but then he remembers the current state of his health, and
passes the book over with a sigh, Hoseok easily handling the tome under one arm while offering
the other to him.
They travel up towards the Great Lodge, the highest structure on the mountain side, and both of
them seem to take note of the increased guards roaming about the area at the same time.

“You did tell someone where you were going, didn’t you?”

“I did. My server.”

“And did you instruct your server to inform anyone else of your whereabouts?”

Jimin swallows.

“No.”

Hoseok hums under his breath, tensing once they’re spotted.

“I do believe they’re looking for you.”

“So it would seem.”

“My lord,” an alpha calls as he quickly approaches, making the two of them stop in their tracks.
“I’ve been instructed to bring you to the commander and Jeongguk once you’ve been found.”

“Found? I was never lost.”

The guard offers no reaction to that statement, and Jimin gives a weary sigh, turning back to
Hoseok.

“Thank you, my friend. I believe I’m in good hands now, and I’ve kept you long enough. You can
return to your duties.”

Hoseok looks as if he wants to argue, but instead asks, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Jimin promises, gripping his hands tightly before releasing the beta; who digs around
inside his satchel and passes him the herbs first and the book after.

Jimin takes both with a nod of thanks, and then turns to allow himself to be led the rest of the way
home, trying not to show how winded he is with the added weight and lack of support.

His energy has never felt so depleted before while making the journey, and Jimin knows it has
everything to do with his illness.

His new reality.

They go through the main doors, and he is immediately greeted by pandemonium.

There are guards everywhere, marching the halls, pulling doors open. Someone is even searching
the broom cupboard, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at that. Most cease their actions once they
notice Jimin, bowing their heads as he passes, led up the stairs towards his quarters.

They’re empty, and Jimin turns back towards the alpha with a question in his tone.
“Where are Namjoon and Jeongguk?”

“Still out searching, but I’ve had word sent to them. I thought you would be more comfortable if
you remain here and await their return. It shouldn't be too long.”

Jimin nods, watching as the guard pulls the door shut behind him, leaving him isolated in silence.

He glances around somewhat numbly, taking in his space with a stoic expression, unsure as to what
to do.

Nothing looks different nor out of place, but even so, everything has changed, because in this very
room, barely a few hours ago, his whole world was turned upside down.

He sets the jar of herbs on top of a chest, and the old tome he leans up against the cushions that
cover his bed. Then Jimin’s feet drag of their own accord on his way to the two chairs that rest in
front of the hearth, limbs heavy when he collapses down into one, endeavoring to wait. On the side
table rests the book he’s been reading whenever sleep eludes him, and he absently considers
picking it up to pass the time, but his focus is fleeting, and his lids feel as weighed down as the rest
of his body.

It’s likely that he nods off, because the next thing Jimin knows is he’s jerking awake, the sound of
rushed footsteps in the hall is the precursor to his chamber door being thrown open.

Jeongguk’s wide, worried eyes are the first thing he registers when he enters, relief filling his
expression as he practically runs into the room with Jimin’s name falling from his lips on a
whisper. Jimin aches to reach out for him; and he almost does—

But then he remembers.

The alpha doesn’t stop until he kneels on the ground before him, hands coming up to cup his face
in his warm palms, needing to touch and feel to know that he's really there.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? What happened?”

“What do you mean?” he murmurs just as Namjoon comes into the room, and even to his own ears
his voice sounds devoid of emotion.

Jeongguk’s brow furrows, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion.

“You just disappeared. Ran away from the Great Hall without telling anyone where you were
going.”

“I needed some space. Came back up here and then went to see Hoseok and Bongcha. I didn’t
realize I would cause such a fuss.”

Namjoon frowns at him, suspicion in his gaze as he closes the door most of the way behind him.

“People are plotting to take your life, Jimin. Of course we would panic when no one could find
you or knew where you were.”

“I told one of the servant’s where I was going,” he replies, still too angry to be remorseful or give
an honest explanation like he should, not that it’s Namjoon’s fault for that, but he can’t help it.

Slowly, Jeongguk’s hands slip away from him, a look of hurt flashing over his features when Jimin
releases an audible sigh of relief.
Their connection is strong, and it’s obvious he senses the storm that is raging inside of Jimin,
fueled by the current resentment he holds. He just doesn’t know why yet.

Jimin gains his feet, and Jeongguk is forced to move back and stand as well in order to make room
for him, watching as he rounds the armchair, holding onto the back and taking care not to falter in
his steps or waver in his balance.

Fingers sinking into the plush cushion to ground himself, Jimin closes his eyes and takes a deep
breath.

“To be honest, now that you’re both here…there’s something I have to tell you.”

The childish part of him doesn't want to say any more. Wants to keep this awful reality to himself,
knowing how they'll look at him differently, treat him differently. Like a doll that'll break with one
wrong move. Like a dying thing…but that would be beyond selfish, as more fates than just his own
will be directly affected.

“The truth is…I fled from the Great Hall earlier because I became ill, and I didn’t want anyone to
see me like that.”

“Ill?” Namjoon questions, a sharp tinge of trepidation in his voice, while at the same time
Jeongguk asks, “Are you alright?”

He takes another labored breath, chest aching with the expansion of his ribs.

“No, actually, I’m not,” he answers, turning around to face them both once more. “When I became
ill there was blood in my sick,” he reveals, eyes sliding to Namjoon, because the alpha knows what
it means.

The guard curses under his breath, an invisible force seeming to make him fold in on himself.

Jeongguk is quick to catch on, that hollowed horror reflecting in his own gaze is exactly what
Jimin was afraid to confront.

“Is it the illness? The plague?”

Jimin holds his stare when he answers.

“It is. And as this is one of the more severe symptoms, it stands to reason that I don't have much
time left until it worsens further. It’s very likely I could end up like my father.”

“But it’s not set in stone,” Namjoon argues, seemingly desperate for someone to agree with him.
“Maybe it won’t go that far.”

He echos Hoseok's earlier outlook, but Jimin can no more placate him than he did the healer,
though he does gift him with the only smile he can muster.

“We cannot put our hopes on a maybe.”

Then he turns back to Jeongguk, the alpha frozen where he stands, though Jimin can see the way
his arms lift slightly, fingers twitching, as if he longs to reach for him.
But Jimin forces himself to remain level-headed. Detached.

"If you're in agreement, we need to have our mating ceremony as soon as possible, before anything
happens to me."

"Of course I'm in agreement,'' Jeongguk answers, though his voice is barely there, as if he hasn't
yet taken in the severity of what's been revealed, a delay of emotions waiting to drown him.

"No," Jimin argues, shaking his head as he tries to keep control of his emotions. "You cannot agree
so easily, you really need to think this through. Because if I die—"

"Jimin," the alpha admonishes, like he can't bear to hear the words, as if they physically bring him
harm, the very possibility of it, but Jimin presses on, determined to get this out.

"If I die and we're mated, because of our imprint you'll be soon to follow. So you have to be sure."

Jeongguk's gaze holds no uncertainty nor hesitation when he answers in a firm voice.

"I'm sure."

Jimin inclines his head, releasing the breath he was holding before looking to Namjoon again
when he says, “We’ll have to gather the rest of the pack tomorrow. Inform them there is to be a
mating ceremony.”

“When?”
“The sooner the better. If we can get away with it, we’ll do it tomorrow as well. Inform them in the
morning, have the ceremony in the evening.”

“They’ll know it’s rushed for a reason,” the guard warns, but Jimin only shrugs.

“They’ll probably think the rogue’s whore is with child.”

“Jimin!” Jeongguk chastises, more pain seeping into his expression over the harsh words, and
Jimin almost opens his mouth to either lash out or apologize when the door creaks open.

They all turn to look at Hanyu on the other side, her countenance pale as she holds a plate in her
hands.

“Your dinner, my lord. You weren’t in the Great Hall.”

The idea of food roils his stomach and acid feels as if it crawls steadily up his throat, and he waves
a dismissive hand.

“Thank you Hanyu, but I’m not hungry. See that someone else is given my share.”

She stands with her mouth open before she seems to shake herself out of her stupor, bowing her
head before moving quickly down the corridor. Namjoon closes the door after her, a frown taking
over his features.

“She was likely eavesdropping,” he mutters, clearly frustrated. “We don’t know how much she
overheard."
Jimin sighs, pain blooming in the back of his skull.

“I doubt she knows the extent of it. Though now the whole pack might assume I’m carrying pups.”

Jeongguk is clearly still stunned, those bow lips parted, and it hurts to look at him, so Jimin turns
back to Namjoon; who still has the majority of his senses.

"Hoseok is going to officiate. I need two wolves who support the union to stand by me, as does
Jeongguk. I want you and Taehyung, and Yoongi and Seokjin for him."

Namjoon nods in understanding, appearing slightly emotional for a brief second.

“I'll fill them in once I leave, and I agree with you. The sooner the better, so I’ll double the guard
for tomorrow in case anyone tries to object. There might not be any fancy trimmings during the
ceremony, but it'll do the job. Shall we make the announcement after the morning meal?"

Jimin nods, watching as the guard seems unsure of what to do with himself. But then Namjoon’s
eyes meet his, his gaze firm.

“You’ll be alright,” he declares, and though Jimin cannot agree with him, he offers another small
smile.

With that, he leaves both him and Jeongguk alone.

Jimin still can’t bring himself to look at the alpha, suddenly feeling in danger of losing his
composure completely, and instead slowly makes his way to his bed where the tome lies
innocuously.
“Jimin? Sweetheart—”

The endearment hurts more than it should.

And then a kind of apathy takes over, like a defense mechanism that Jimin isn't entirely sure he
should be comfortable with.

“I need to show you something,” he states, pulling the linen covered book towards him before he
slowly begins to unwrap it.

Carefully, he pulls the leather free, sensing when Jeongguk moves in close to stand next to him.
Over the smooth surface of his neatly made bed, he opens the pages up to the section he
bookmarked earlier, finger pointing where he wants him to look. Jeongguk leans down to inspect
the words, eyes widening the moment he reads his own name on the parchment, before a look of
resignation takes over, clearly caught.

“You knew,” Jimin softly accuses, because if nothing else the look on his face is confirmation
enough. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t!” he seethes, voice gaining strength as he moves away from him. “Don’t call me that. How
could you keep this from me? Knowing that this could’ve helped sway the pack sooner. After what
I revealed to you about my nightmares. That was your father…” he trails off, angry with himself
when tears fill up his eyes. He doesn’t want to fall apart. Not now.

“I wanted to tell you,” Jeongguk implores, doe-eyes bright. “I almost did, in the tent that night on
the plains, but then the sun came up and we had to part.”
Jimin vaguely remembers that to be true, but it’s no excuse.

“And what about every moment after that? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It was never a good time. So much has been happening with Doyun, Eun, Eunoia, Bongcha and
Naeri. The threats on your life, I just—it never felt more important in the face of that.”

“What about before, then? Why keep it to yourself for as long as you did?” Jimin demands, his
eyes pinning the alpha in place, even as Jeongguk himself begins to look upset. But he still presses.

"Do you even have a pack to return to?"

Jeongguk seems to stand there like a reprimanded child that's been caught causing trouble, and
Jimin watches as his fingers tug on his tunic, giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"No. There is no pack."

Jimin's breath hitches, and a wave of nausea rolls over him.

"All this time I've felt such guilt over keeping you from your family. For making you choose me
over them, but there was no one."

"You asked me if there was anyone waiting for me to return, I told you no. I never once said I had
any family I missed, just that I wished to go home," the alpha tries, but it only makes Jimin angrier.
"All those tales you told Naeri. All those lies. Who knew you were so good at it—"

"I lied to her, not you," he interrupts, desperate to make the distinction. "Not you. Every time you
asked me my answers were vague or not forthcoming for a reason because I didn't want to lie to
you. And I only went along with the farce of a pack in the first place because that is the only thing
that stopped me from being executed in the forest that day. You told the others you needed me
alive in order to question me, worried over retaliation from an unknown threat. What was I
supposed to do, correct you and hope for the best?"

"Yes. Not then, but after. When we became closer."

"It was never a good time," Jeongguk repeats, but Jimin glares at him, tired of the excuse.

"What about all the times I was in your bed? You could've brought it up then, or was that not a
good time as well?" He feels vindictive with his anger, and Jeongguk likewise looks at a loss.

"Jimin—"

He waves him away, but Jeongguk is not deterred.

“I didn’t know that such a book existed. I wasn’t sure if anyone would even believe me.”

Jimin scoffs.

“I would’ve believed you, and you know it.”

Jeongguk huffs, and he paces the room like a caged wolf, long hair as wild as his features as it
trails behind him.

“You don’t understand—”

“How can I understand what you do not deem to tell me?”

Jeongguk rounds towards him, distressed as his voice rings out, “I was never meant to be here!"

His cheeks are flushed, chest heaving in the silence as they stare at one another in the aftermath of
his outburst, a kind of shock settling before he continues, softer this time.

“I was never meant to come back. When everything happened, I was no more than an infant. The
night my father was murdered, my mother stole away into the woods. Told no one where she was
going, just packed what she could carry and made us disappear. I have no memories of this place,
but grew up on tales that served as my fables and bedtime stories. My mother would speak candidly
of what befell the innocent here, of what happened to my father and what she herself was forced to
endure.”

He runs a trembling hand through his hair, shaking his head before he carries on.

“You told me that mother's made up rogues in the woods in order to ward their pups away from it.
My mother did the same, only it was this pack that featured as the monster in her tales. I made a
promise to her to never seek this place out. To never return…and then you entered Soksagim
forest, and I was forced back. You don’t understand,” he repeats, taking another deep breath.

“From everything my mother warned me about—even if I had no memories of my own—this place

was my nightmare. Being here in the beginning made my skin crawl, and no matter what was
happening between you and I, I was sure I couldn’t stomach the thought of staying. But then you
showed me how different things are now, how much has changed, and my feelings for you grew so
far beyond my grasp, and I just…I just wanted to put it all behind me. For once I didn’t want to be
influenced by the past, or memories that weren’t my own. I wanted to start anew.”

Jimin stares at him in the quiet as he takes in his explanation, and he can’t help but wonder how
different things would’ve been if Jisoo hadn’t fled that night. If she and her infant son had stayed to
see Chulseok fall; though he deserved a worse fate than he got.

“I wasn’t silent with the intention to keep it from you,” Jeongguk swears. “I did want you to know,
especially after learning about your nightmares. That's why I tried to tell you that night. But when
that didn't work, I tried to figure out the best way explain. What the right timing was. I didn’t want
it to be just another burden on your shoulders. And then Naeri tried to murder you and it just...it
didn't seem so important in the face of that. Not now, at least.”

Forcing back the moisture in his eyes, Jimin takes a deep shuddering breath, trying to calm down
his tumultuous emotions and gathering himself before he responds.

“I can understand that. I can even sympathize with it. I have no right to criticize how you chose to
handle your past, nor what you did or didn’t tell me as you had your reasons. But it doesn’t take
away how that makes me feel, whether you meant to keep it from me or not.”

“Jimin—”

He holds his hand up, and the tears nearly do fall when he carries on.

“I just—I feel so lost right now. Lost and alone, and I don’t know how to reconcile that. Nor the
fact that I need you now but don’t know if I want to accept your comfort.”

Jeongguk stands there, clearly torn, face falling over the clear hurt and upset Jimin is going
through.
“I am so sorry, Jimin. I never ever wanted to make you feel this way. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know,” he assures, the tears finally slipping free as his exhaustion elevates. “I do. Everything is
just so…fucked,” he sobs, watching the alpha take a step closer when Jimin can't hold it in
anymore and breaks down.

“With all that’s happened, and now I’m sick, and then this,” he stutters, motioning towards the
book. “I feel like it's all crushing me. And we have to mate soon because of this illness, so I don’t
even have time to sort out my feelings or be angry or even forgive you because I don’t know how
much longer I’ll have of being able to function—”

Jeongguk reaches him just as he loses the rest of his breath and composure, wrapping him up in his
arms while one hand cradles the back of his head, trying to soothe him with soft words, but Jimin
feels inconsolable, his hands gripping onto Jeongguk’s tunic and wrinkling the fabric terribly.

Jimin cries and cries. He cries for Jeongguk’s mother and father, and for Jeongguk himself. He
cries for Bongcha and Eunoia, innocent in the politics of men, but made casualties anyway. He
even cries for Naeri, blinded by her hate until it eventually consumed her.

And he cries for himself, because he feels isolated and bereft, taking on the weight of the village,
the pack, and all the expectations and disappointment that comes with it. He cries over learning the
truth about Jeongguk the way that he did, and he cries because he doesn’t know what his future
holds, or if he even has much of one left…

By the end of it, hiccups ravage his body, his eyes are painfully swollen, and Jeongguk’s shirt is
soaked. The alpha leans down and lifts him in one fell swoop as if he weighs nothing, carrying him
up onto the bed and placing him in the center, his hand gently brushing his silvery-white hair aside
so that it doesn’t obstruct his vision.

In the newly formed quiet, they stare at each other, and Jimin feels his wolf cry out, wanting
nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Jeongguk whispers, his own voice wrecked, eyes puffy and red, and
Jimin can’t help but shake his head.

“I know.”

He does.

Jeongguk isn't cruel or vindictive. His reasons for keeping his birthright are valid and Jimin looks
at it from his point of view. Knows he himself would've likely done the same had their positions
been reversed.

A calloused thumb wipes under his eye then, collecting a wayward tear from the skin.

“Do you want me to go?”

The air leaves him in a rush, his lungs protesting as he considers it.

Maybe he would've said yes under different circumstances. Force themselves to take some space so
they could sort through their thoughts and feelings…

But his situation doesn't allow for that luxury right now, and Jimin is tired of fighting his battles
alone.

He just wants to be held.

“No,” he answers. “Stay with me, please.”

Jeongguk’s hand cards through his hair again, and Jimin’s lashes flutter in response.

“You look exhausted, love. Can I get you something more comfortable to wear?”

“Please,” he murmurs again, even though he’s cold, and it’s so warm being wrapped up in his
cloak. “My nightclothes are in the wardrobe. Top drawer.”

Jeongguk moves away, the sounds of more wood being stacked into the hearth reaching his ears,
the fire stoked. He then retrieves Jimin’s clothes and brings them with him, carefully setting the
book of the pack on the nearby nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed as he unbuckles and
removes his boots, climbing up onto the furs once they're off.

He helps Jimin to sit up again, meticulously divesting him of every article he wears, slipping the
cool silk over his skin almost reverently, the material quickly warming with his body heat. After
he’s redressed, Jeongguk lowers him back down to the pillows, and then rises fluidly to hang up
his cloak and place his worn clothes in the basket designated for such.

He returns to Jimin after getting comfortable himself, tunic untucked and loosened, trousers untied,
and slips in against Jimin’s back, arms wrapping him up and pulling him close.

Jimin's hand comes up to grip his wrist, that measured pulse beating steadily beneath the pads of
his fingers, so different from his own weaker one, lids sinking once he tries to time them, already
on the brink of sleep when he hears Jeongguk whisper in his ear.

“You’re strong, my love. I know you’re scared. I can feel it. But you won’t let this illness take you,
I know you won’t.”
Jimin’s lips curl up, bittersweet at the sentiment, because it’s lovely to believe in such things. But
when it comes to this…

It falls outside of his or anyone else's control, and what he wants is irrelevant in the face of nature
and the course it takes.

________________

Jimin wakes up early to a wracking cough that burns through his body like fueled flames, limbs
seizing as he trembles. His mouth fills with copper when he tries to clear his airway, and once he
moves his hand away, it’s wet with blood.

A warm palm slides along his back, Jeongguk sitting up behind him.

“Are you—”

His raspy voice cuts out, and though Jimin can’t see his expression, he knows he’s spied the
blatant vermillion that is spattered along his skin.

“Here, love.”

He sounds broken, but fluidly climbs from bed, pouring water from the pitcher over a cloth above
the basin bowl, and then wrings out the excess.

He brings it, dabbing at Jimin’s lips first and then wiping his hand clean, taking the cloth back to
the bowl where he runs more water over it, though it’s likely a lost cause, forever stained like the
handkerchief Hoseok gave him in the infirmary. Like the way blood seeps into snow.

Jimin feels dizzy, but he still tries to stand, Jeongguk immediately coming back to his side.

“Where do you want to go, sweetheart? Let me help you.”

“Wanna wash my mouth out.”

Jeongguk assists him, calm and gentle, but Jimin has never felt so weak. So helpless. It makes him
introspective.

Once he gets the taste of copper out of his mouth, Jeongguk leads him back to bed with a kiss to his
brow and noticeable worry lines around his eyes and lips.

He’s scared. And though he tries to hide it, Jimin would be able to tell even if he couldn't feel the
ghost of it through their bond.

“Want you to rest,” the alpha instructs, bringing the furs up to his chin. “Can I get you anything?
Anything at all?”

He starts to shake his head before he remembers the herbs Hoseok gave him.

“I’m supposed to use those,” he murmurs, arm heavy when he lifts it up to point at the jar.
“Hoseok said they might help.”

“Shall I grind it into a tea for you?”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I’m sure, love. Rest,” he repeats, the backs of his fingers trailing down his cheek before
he stands to grab the filled jar. “I’ll be right back.”

His ear catches the sound of the door to his chambers opening and closing, but then he’s sure he
drifts off, because in the next instant, he jumps awake, hazy and disoriented as three sharp knocks
echo in the still room.

It takes nearly all that he has to get out of bed and on his feet, sweat dampening his brow again as
he grabs for his robe. If it were Jeongguk he would’ve simply let himself in, so Jimin makes
himself as presentable as he can before pulling the door open, breathing labored from the simple
action.

“Oh. Good morning,” he greets, voice noticeably shaky.

“My lord,” Hanyu answers from the other side, a plate of food in her hand. “I wanted to bring this
to you. You didn’t look well yesterday and you skipped dinner.”

Jimin eyes the plate filled with some of his favorite foods, and he remembers the way the other
omega worriedly escorted him to the infirmary yesterday, and that it’s likely she later overheard he
was ill. This seems to be her way of taking care of him. He accepts it gratefully, even though he
nearly buckles under the weight of the plate and food appeals to him about as much as being sick
does.

“Please eat, my lord,” she begs. “You need your strength.”

With a nod and a small smile that he hopes emanates his gratitude, Jimin thanks her softly before
closing the door again, taking the plate over to the small table near the window, and lowers himself
gingerly down onto the chair as he stares at it.

Even though he currently has no appetite, and the last thing he wants to do is stomach it only to
have the food come back up again, he forces himself to eat.

As Hanyu said, he needs his strength.

Jimin is barely able to swallow it down, throat so swollen and sore that he has to chew his first bite
until it’s like mulch in his mouth, wincing once he’s finally able to swallow.

He’s just taking a second bite when Jeongguk walks in, a carved mug in one hand with steam
wafting over the lip, and a mortar and pestle in the other.

“You’re up,” he says, an obvious note of hope in his voice.

Jimin hates talking with his mouth full, but he still can’t swallow yet, so he places a hand over his
lips when he responds.

“I was brought breakfast," he answers, motioning to the plate with his fork. "Thought eating might
help me feel a little bit better.”

“Yeah? Is it helping?”

Jimin shakes his head.

“My throat hurts. Can barely get the food down.”

“Here. Maybe if you drink it with something hot it’ll help. And if you want more, there's plenty
left," he reveals holding up the stone bowl.

He gets closer to set everything down on the table, when suddenly a grimace takes over his
features, nose scrunching like he’s smelled something foul. It twitches while he searches for the
source, frantic eyes taking in the room.

“What is that?”

“What?” Jimin wonders, confused. "What is what?"

“The smell. I know that smell…”

He shrugs when the alpha trails off, moving to take another bite.

“I can’t really smell anything to be honest.”

His senses are already fading in and out, vision blurry, nose stuffed. Even his taste buds have
dulled, Hoseok warning him that this would happen.

Jeongguk’s eyes track his movements then, and Jimin jumps when he lashes forward, knocking the
bite of food out of his hand before it can make it to his mouth, the fork clanging against the stone
ground as something akin to panic clouds over the alpha's features. He brings Jimin’s plate up
towards his face, sniffing before quickly slamming it back down and away with a hiss.
“How much of this have you had?” he frantically demands, fear laced in his tone that has
something terrifying curling in the pit of Jimin's stomach, ready to rear its head. He's never seen
him look this way. This scared. “Jimin? How much have you had?”

The alpha kneels down before him when he tries to answer, but suddenly everything sounds as if
it’s coming to him from underwater, the light of the sun cresting over the trees of Soksagim far too
bright as it hits the glass of his windows, a migraine forming instantly while a sharp pain blooms
deep and sudden in his gut.

“Two,” he slurs terribly, trying to hold up the number on his fingers, but his body won’t cooperate.
“Two bites—”

Everything tilts, and it becomes too much effort to hold himself up, so he slips from his chair like a
puppet with its strings cut, waiting for the pain of the fall to register, but it never does. Jeongguk is
right there to catch him, cradling him close even as Jimin tries to turn away, nausea hitting in
waves until he feels violently ill.

The alpha sounds frightened but firm when he speaks, fingers tracing over his cheeks, adding
pressure.

“Jimin, sweetheart? Come on, open up for me. Open your mouth, love.”

Jimin tries, but he can’t. His jaw feels locked, teeth grinding painfully as he convulses. Pain
explodes inside, traveling the network of his circulatory system to spread throughout the entirety of
his form until all he knows is agony. But then he coughs; a horrible wet sound, and Jimin’s focus is
taken by the blood spatter that decorates and drips over the slopes of Jeongguk’s golden cheeks,
like morbid freckles. He watches the way his mate’s lips move, but everything is muffled until he
feels those fingers return, prying his mouth open, the pain drowning him.

A guttural sound vibrates through his ears when Jeongguk sticks his fingers in his mouth, like the
death rattle of a dying animal.
“I know, love. I know. Come on. Come on, damnit!”

He gags as those fingers force their way down his throat, and almost immediately he turns his head
and empties the contents of his stomach onto the rug next to him, wanting to whimper at the
debasity of it, but Jeongguk is unbothered. If anything, he is pleased.

“There we go, pup. There we go. Just a little bit more for me now—”

The fingers return, and Jimin tries to shake his head, but he throws up again instead, blood mixed
with bile and undigested food, and he cries even as Jeongguk continues to praise him, wishing he
could beg for the hurt to stop.

“That’s it. Get it all out.”

His eyes roll up, more pain cutting through him like claws as his body shakes uncontrollably, and
Jimin can barely hear Jeongguk now, the sound of his voice lost in his tortured, scrambled
thoughts, another distant sound being wrangled from that same animal—

Something slaps his cheeks hard, and Jimin’s lids can only partially open, too heavy for him even
when Jeongguk begs.

“Jimin! Stay with me love, come on.”

He's scared. Terrified. Jimin can see it written all over his face even through the fog, can hear it in
the frantic desperation of his voice. Can even feel it like it were something physical he can reach
out and touch. But he can't do anything to fix it. Not when he feels as if he's being torn apart from
the inside—
 Jeongguk starts screaming then, and Jimin wants so desperately to comfort him, yet the dying
animal is almost just as loud, drowning him out, and he’s torn on who to go to first.

Somewhere, a door slams open, batters against the stone wall, horrified gasps and cries playing out
like theater in his mind, Jeongguk’s wet voice is full of despair when he makes his demands.

“Get Namjoon. He’s been poisoned.”

And it’s then that Jimin realizes the dying animal is him.

Chapter End Notes

*Gasp*

Some of you correctly guessed that the black wolf Jimin has nightmares about is
Jeongguk's father. A round of applause to you. I enjoy reading everyone's theories

Also, I'm pretty sure there's only three or four chapters left, so there's that.
 What Dreams May Come
Chapter Notes

This chapter has some disturbing themes including death, murder, animal death, and
mentions of stillbirth.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The pain comes in waves, like the oceans to the south that lap upon golden shores. Forward and
back the agony draws over him, until Jimin feels as if he is completely submerged, pulled under by
the changing tides and drowning in it. Voices float down from the black skies as his body rebels,
and sometimes he can see the faces of those they belong to so clearly that it adds to the ache,
because they are so completely overtaken with pure terror, that Jimin almost wishes he couldn't see
them.

Somewhere, Jeongguk is screaming.

"There's charcoal in the hearth. Bring it to me. You! I need water and that mortar and pestle. Now
For fuck's sake!"

Jimin has never heard him sound more angry. Nor more scared, and he’s sure that alone would fill
him with dread, if he could feel anything beyond the torturous inferno that razes him in his
entirety.

If Jeongguk is scared, it’s serious.

Jimin’s stomach twists further, and in the confines of his head, his wolf collapses, not even a howl
of pain able to escape its muzzle now, prepared to succumb—

"Pour the water as I grind it."

"Do what he says."

Namjoon.

That sounds like Namjoon.

His voice seems almost weak in comparison to the others, on the cusp of some horrible raw
emotion that he doesn't want to analyze, and if Jimin weren't so completely broken, he would try to
offer comfort, as his nature longs to do…

"Come here," Jeongguk seems to beckon. "I'll need your strength."

The sound of stone on stone reaches Jimin's ears then, a crushing thing, and absently he wonders
where the rockslide is, for surely somewhere a mountain is collapsing.

Perhaps it does so in commiseration.

“Hoseok is on his way.”

Light seeps in through Jimin’s lids, far too bright and causing his skull to throb worse than it
already is, but he makes the attempt to open them, to cling to some form of his present self, a
thought whispering in his ear that if he can just stay awake, he might have a chance. He can feel his
lashes fluttering against his cheeks like butterfly wings, sure he can see Jeongguk’s doe-eyes widen
as they meet his own—

“Jimin? Gods—can you hear me, love?”

His tongue feels swollen, words eluding him, but he thinks he can make out a pitiful noise
rumbling from the depths of his throat in the form of a response.

“You need to open your mouth for me sweetheart. You have to get this down.”

Jimin doesn’t know what this is, but he almost doesn’t want to comply. The last time the alpha
asked him to, it wasn’t pleasant…but even so, the rational part of him knows it’s for his own good.
That Jeongguk wouldn’t be making him endure this if it wasn’t.

So he tries for the alpha's sake, swayed by the panic and fear in his gaze, and even though his body
betrays him as he does; refusing to cooperate, he doesn’t stop trying—

“Good, love. You’re doing so well.”

Jimin’s eyes slip closed again, the effort and energy needed for the simple task of keeping them
open is far too demanding in his state, but somehow he manages to hold onto consciousness,
listening when Jeongguk speaks once more, tone back to being clipped. Perfunctory.

“Hold his jaw open. We need to get this down his throat.”

Hands frame his cheeks and the pressure from it summons more pain, his nerves so hyper aware
that even the slightest touch feels as if it is done in anger. But there isn’t any time to dwell on it as
smoke enters his mouth, curling over his thick tongue.

But it can’t be…

Because it’s wet and cloying as it drips down, instantly making him want to gag. Jimin turns his
head, needing to expel it, but hands clamp over his lips, and arms wrap around his body to keep
him still.

“Don’t let him spit it out,” Jeongguk orders, and Jimin feels almost betrayed, even as the alpha
tries desperately to calm him. “Come on, love. You have to swallow it for me. Please.”

Jimin doesn’t want to, but he hates to hear the alpha beg in such a broken tone. It hurts his heart
worse than whatever is currently trying to put a stop to it does, so he makes the effort, even as he
feels it to be impossible.

The viscous substance nearly spews out of him of its own volition, but gentle fingers work his
throat, massaging the skin there, and eventually he takes it all down with a barely there whine.

“I know, sweetheart. I know—”

“I’m here.”

Hoseok, Jimin thinks, that’s Hoseok—

“Move aside for him. We need something that’ll aid in getting this into his stomach as quickly as
possible. Do you have anything?”

“I do," the healer assures. "A leather funnel attached to tubing."

"That'll work," Jeongguk answers, clearly relieved.

"It's not the illness?"

There’s a deep shuddering breath before the alpha answers.

"He's been poisoned."

The reality is too much to take in, the voices of those he cares for beginning to drift away as others
beckon him.

Jimin is scared to answer—

—but they’re chased away as his mouth is opened yet again, and something unrelenting starts to
force its way into the his throat.

He can’t breathe.

Jimin can’t breathe!

Diminished as he is, he still tries to fight when his airway is obstructed, but his alpha is right there,
once again attempting to soothe him.

“It’s alright, love,” Jeongguk whispers directly into his ear. “Breathe through your nose. Deep
breath in. There you go,” he praises, voice wavering, clearly upset as he continues to instruct him.
“Keep going, in through your nose…and out.”

Jimin can’t say for sure if he’s managing it or not, but his lungs don’t burn as much as they did,
and oblivion eagerly envelopes him in its arms, lulled by the sound of Jeongguk’s voice.

________________

He dreams of poison spreading like ink in his veins until they darken visibly beneath his skin. The
sludge leaks from his eyes, mouth, and nose when it has nowhere left to go, horrifying all who look
upon him, as if he is contagious.

As if he is made up entirely of toxicant, the living embodiment of it.

Shadows surround his form like they're drawn to his affliction, their gnarled, claw-like hands press
fervently into his jaw until it unhinges, while they gleefully shovel tainted food onto his tongue,
which turns to ash in his mouth.

The shadows disappear into curling wisps of smoke, and when he opens his eyes next, two black
wolves come to him on a clearing of snow, the mirror image of each other, and while one is left to
fall into the soft powder, staining it crimson, the other continues forward, eyes red like the same
blood that takes over the unblemished white.

Behind him, someone calls out his name, and Jimin gifts the wolf with a look of regret as he turns
from it, lured by the sound of his mother's melodic voice, just as beautiful as he remembers, her
health restored. She stands about fifty feet off, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

He has her lips.

She has pups on either side of her, and Jimin knows with a certainty he is unsure how he possesses,
that those are his siblings, the majority of which he was never able to meet. They look the picture
of innocence, babes taken from the world too soon, yet here they thrive.
Located halfway between his mother and him is Jimin’s father, and he looks between both his mate
with all their dead children and his firstborn son, appearing torn, unsure of who to go to. Jimin
longs to call out to him, not yet ready to let him go when he feels a tug on his arm.

The old healer Haneul stands beside him, hunched over in her usual way, milky eyes at half-mast
as she holds a knobby finger to her lips.

“Shhh. The lord sleeps.”

His gaze follows where she points, spotting an elaborate four poster bed in the frozen landscape,
now holding his father’s body cradled in furs.

His skin is gray, and his open eyes are unseeing while they stare towards the sky, mouth twisted in
pain.

A whimper leaves Jimin’s lips at the sight of his father dead, and he jumps back and away into
arms that wrap him up, pulling him into a warm chest. Relief fills him with such devastating
clarity, because he knows who holds him so lovingly.

He would know him anywhere.

But when Jimin glances up at Jeongguk, he’s horrified to see blood staining the pretty golden skin
of his cheeks. Blood coughed up from his own lips.

His eyes are hard when he speaks, though there’s something imploring about them.

“If you leave me my fate is yours.”

Jimin shakes his head, mouth parting, but his body shudders when he coughs again, more blood
taking over the alpha until he’s completely covered in it, unrecognizable, and Jimin is horrified—

When he blinks again, he comes face to face with himself, a look of fear crossing his pale features
as his doppleganger leans forward.

“Wake up.”

________________

Slowly, he comes back into awareness, though it seems to fade in and out.

Fickle.

Jimin’s body feels as if it belongs to another, heavy in a way that cannot conform to his will. His
fingers won't so much as twitch when he tries to move them, tongue still swollen in his mouth, so
without any other choice he remains still, the sound of voices registering in his mind.

“—the height of the panic ensured that some of the civilian members of the pack know that
something horrible has taken place, they just don't know what, and have begun to create rumors of
their own.”

That’s Taehyung’s voice. He sounds withered.

Gods, Jimin misses him.

“No one has seen him in days. The village gates have been sealed, and the torches are not being lit.
The staff that saw the two from the kitchens dragged away are also creating tales.”

“Let them talk.”

Jeongguk.

Jimin would recognize that surliness anywhere, but the congested quality of it is new.

“We’re vulnerable.”

There’s Namjoon, ever pragmatic.

“And it’s only a matter of time until they realize that. Only a few can say for certain what has
befallen Jimin. If they succeeded or not. But sooner or later, they won’t care. They’ll take their
opportunity.”

Jimin tries to hold onto the conversation, desperate to learn what's transpired, but all too quickly, it
fades away, out of his reach.

________________

He is a silvery-white wolf, tearing through the forest as he chases after a glimpse of black fur. The
tree branches reach for him, bewitched into being sentient while they try to impede his progress,
but Jimin evades easily until he comes upon a clearing, like a meadow in spring.
The black wolf he was pursuing is nowhere to be found, but there, grazing upon the grass, is a
regal stag, snow receding at the edges to give way to luscious greenery. He keeps still, not wanting
to disturb the creature when—

An invisible force yanks it to the ground, and Jimin's ears flatten to his head, unable to do anything
but watch as it is brutally torn apart.

When everything stills, and even the quiet feels like an enemy, Jimin keeps low to the ground,
curiosity driving him to approach the brutality of the scene, and a whine bubbles up out of his
throat at what he sees.

Eunoia and Bongcha have taken the place of the stag, savaged in such a way that he doesn't know
if he'll weep or be sick.

"I told you," a voice mocks, and slowly Jimin looks up, somehow transformed back into a man,
recognition making his stomach sink.

Doyun stands there among the carnage, fangs for teeth and claws for nails, his mouth stained a
contrast of red and white, covered with blood and feathers.

"You need to pick a mate."

"I already have," Jimin whispers in muted shock, trying to back away—

But impossibly, Doyun is already behind him.

"Then I'll devour him too."

________________

Alone in the dark, unable to move, Jimin's hearing is almost heightened, and he recognizes the
sound of weeping. It's in the way the breath hitches, a loud trembling swallow followed by
sniffling.

He can feel it in the tears that land on the skin of his hands, leaving wet trails that follow the
contours of his knuckles, where a kiss is placed just before a voice speaks.

"You cannot leave me. You cannot."

Jeongguk sounds irreparably broken, so much so that Jimin almost doesn't recognize the alpha.

"There is nowhere you could go that I will not follow."

The words hold a weight to them. A promise.

"Not even death could keep you from me."

________________

The funeral pyre for his mother rests along the shores of Lake Geoul, overlooking the edge of
Soksagim forest in the shadow of Hogok Mountain. They cremate her with her infant; a boy this
time. A little brother who lived longer than the rest, but couldn't hold on after their mother passed.

Jimin has lived this before, and it was unbearable a decade ago, when the loss was fresh, yet
reliving it now is as if a shawl presses over his eyes, distancing himself from it while the flames
lick higher into the sky.

He turns to leave, but Haneul stands just behind him, blocking the way.

"Life is fleeting, is it not? We never know when our time will come."

"It came for them too soon," he murmurs, unable to glance at what is left of his mother and the pup
she so desperately wanted.

"It came for you too soon," the beta corrects, and Jimin's eyes fly up to her milky orbs, a phantom
pain flaring in his stomach at her words.

"There was nothing anyone could do—"

"I warned her of the risks. She refused to listen."

"She wanted a child."

Haneul pins him with a hard stare.

"She had a child."

Jimin cannot hold her gaze, a lifetime of inadequacy bearing down on him.

"Not the one she needed."

The old healer releases a weary sigh, and then speaks again.

"I helped bring your mother into this world, you know? Along with your father, you and him," she
claims, nodding her head towards the forest, and when Jimin glances over his shoulder, he can see
Jeongguk standing along the treeline, his gaze on the pyre as if he's come to pay his respects.

"Life gives us a chance, but death embraces us all in the end."

When Jimin turns back around, Haneul is closer than she once was, making his eyes widen and his
lips part in surprise.

"Will you be waiting with open arms for it to claim you?"

Jimin peeks over his shoulder again, and this time he can feel Jeongguk's eyes meet his own.

Decision made, he shakes his head.

"No."
Haneul motions with her chin, as if urging him to go, and Jimin doesn't hesitate.

He runs towards the alpha then, the heat of the funeral pyre ebbing as he gets further and further
away—

________________

A labored breath reaches Jimin's ears, and by the sudden pain that blooms in his torso as the sound
transforms into a wet wheeze, he surmises it’s him that it originates from.

His lids feel stuck, unable to lift and allow him to see, but something warm travels from his wrist to
his hand, calloused fingers wrapping around his own limp ones, seeming to tremble against his
skin.

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?”

Jeongguk.

Warmth spreads through him even as a barely there whimper escapes from his omega, and he
wants so desperately to answer, but his tongue is still thick in his mouth, throat flaring whenever he
tries to use his voice. Jimin feels helpless lying there, eyes refusing to open, words unable to form.

Perhaps this is just another nightmare.

It takes all of his energy, but he thinks he manages to somewhat squeeze the hand in his own,
Jeongguk’s relieved, shaky exhale loud in the quiet.
“I’m here, my love. I’m here. You can rest. I won’t leave your side.”

The words soothe him even though they're filled with a pain of their own, and again the dreams
reach out to welcome him back, but Jimin is no longer frightened with the alpha’s hand in his.

________________

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Am I?” Jimin asks, a vial teetering just short of emptying its contents over the food on the fire,
the voice seemingly coming from all around him, disembodied.

“You wanna kill the entire village? We don’t add it to the whole. Wait till his serving is plated,
then—then you can add it. But only a little. Too much and it'll be too obvious.”

Jimin hums in understanding, corking the vial and stowing it away.

“Look at him. He has no idea.”

When Jimin glances up, his eyes meet his own from across the Great Hall.

________________
His throat is on fire.

That’s the only way to describe it really, as if someone has rubbed it raw, doused it with oil and set
it ablaze.

In his stomach there is a sharp ache that persits, only seeming to grow as disorientation slips away
and sensation becomes prominent. Attempting to move in the slightest results in throbbing protests
that ignite throughout his form, while the muscles of his limbs tingle painfully in their numbness,
likely from disuse.

Jimin’s eyes flit from beneath his lids, the skin stretched and unyielding, as if it’s been melded
together, eyelashes tangled while he struggles to open them. Time slips away, and it takes several
tries, but slowly he feels them begin to lift.

He can see nothing at first, just the usual darkness that is the precursor to his nightmares, but with
each blink, he begins to make out the blurry edges of shapes, lit up only by the fire that burns in the
hearth.

Jimin is in his room, of that he is sure, resting atop his fur covered bed. He can see no one in his
line of sight, and pain erupts so suddenly when he tries to turn his head that he nearly loses
consciousness. It is a lesson that teaches him to remain still, unable to do anything but lie there.

Next to him something shifts, and Jimin’s gaze slides over in that direction, desperate to see the
cause, but he can’t.

Then, all at once, the bed dips, and a face comes into view.

Wide doe-eyes and bow-shaped lips that part in shock greet him, and Jimin is so overcome with
affection and relief that he feels wetness on his cheeks as tears begin to fall.
The alpha didn’t leave his side. He stayed with him just like he said he would. Just like he
promised.

Jeongguk sounds wrecked when he asks, “Jimin? Can you hear me love?”

He wishes he could answer, but the only thing Jimin can do is blink, so that’s what he does, more
tears falling as he blinks over and over again until Jeongguk seems to understand, thumb coming up
to wipe away the salt-filled water that clings to his skin.

“You’re safe now, sweetheart, but it might take awhile to regain use of your voice. Try this. Blink
twice for yes, once for no. Can you do that for me?”

Jimin blinks twice.

“Good, love. You’re doing really well. Can you move?”

This time he only blinks once.

“Are you in any pain?”

Two blinks.

A distressed sound loosens from the back of the alpha’s throat as he gently brushes Jimin’s hair
aside, the simple touch bringing forth more tears, overwhelmed.
“I can make you something that’ll help, but you’ll have to drink it down. Do you think you can do
that sweetheart?”

Breathing in deeply through his nose as he thinks about it, Jimin finally blinks twice.

“Okay, love. I have everything I need to make it here, so even if you can’t see me, don’t be
alarmed. I'm still in the room with you.”

Placing a kiss to his brow, Jeongguk carefully climbs off of the bed so as to not jarr him, the
sounds of him putting together whatever it is he’s concocting reaching Jimin’s ears while he waits.

When he comes back, it’s with a carved mug in his hands and a furrow to his brow.

“I didn’t make it too hot so you can drink it right away, but I have to sit you up, and I’m afraid
doing so is going to cause you pain.”

Jimin stares into his eyes and slowly blinks twice, hoping that he sees it as permission to go ahead,
and when he asks his next question, Jimin knows that he does.

“You’re sure?”

Again, he blinks twice.

Taking in a deep breath as he places the drink on the bedside table, Jeongguk’s hands shake when
he goes to grip his shoulders, slightly pulling forward so that one palm can slide to the center of his
back, the other cupping his head as he slowly lifts.
Instant agony flares through him like lightning, and even though he tries to grit his teeth and bear
it, noises spill from his lips unbidden, and Jeongguk’s own whines join his until he’s fully reclined
against the cushions, sweat dripping down from his hairline and tiny tremors continuously
wracking his body.

“Jimin?” Jeongguk asks, clear panic in his tone. “Are you still with me?”

Forcing his lids to stop squeezing shut, Jimin opens his watery eyes and quickly blinks twice, tears
falling again. Jeongguk appears destroyed by the pain he’s caused, even unintentionally,
manifesting in the way that his hands tremble when he goes to wipe away his tears again, his own
eyes swimming.

His voice is hoarse and quavers when he asks, “Can you open your mouth for me, love?”

Terrible memories come flooding back, fragmented images of being on the unforgiving stone floor,
fingers slipping into his throat as they try to get him to bring up the food he’s just eaten. And then
another one, as something unrelenting forces smoke onto his tongue and into his stomach—

“It’s okay, Jimin. It’s just tea.”

At the assurance, he pushes down his trepidation and does the best he can to unseal his mouth, lips
parting for the alpha who has the mug cupped in his hands.

“Good job, sweetheart. We’ll take this slow.”

Placing a cloth just under his chin, Jeongguk carefully tips the mug back against his lips, only
allowing a little fluid in at a time.
It’s hard to swallow, as if he’s forgotten how to do so, but once he does a terrible sting slides down
his throat with the liquid, and he cannot help but wince. At his negative reaction Jeongguk holds
off on giving him anymore. However, as the seconds tick by, the discomfort dulls slightly, tongue
and throat turning numb, the pain relenting.

When his eyes meet Jeongguk’s again, the alpha summons up a small hopeful expression.

“A little better?”

Again, Jimin blinks twice, eagerly taking another drink when it's offered to him. He spills some,
lips tingling slightly, but his throat feels as if a balm has been applied, and the ache in his stomach
is starting to ease as well.

Jeongguk sets the mug aside after he's finished, using the utmost care to lay him back down again,
the warmth of his palm cupping Jimin's cheek as they gaze at each other. The alpha has to
physically shake his head before he crawls in next to him, conforming to his side, burying his face
in his neck and scenting him, the smallest hint of rosemary and cloves reaching Jimin’s nose.

“You can rest easy now, my love. The drink will help, and I'll be here to watch over you.”

When Jimin’s eyes close this time, he is met by a blessedly dreamless sleep.

________________

The next time wakes, it’s due to brightness pressing against the thin skin of his lids, and a wince
marrs his features as the intensity of it pulls him further from slumber. When his eyes finally flit
open, Jimin is greeted by the evening sky as the unseen sun slowly makes its descent in the west.
Absently he stares as it dims further and further with the coming night, casting the room in shadow.

When he tries to move this time, he isn’t immediately met with pain, though discomfort is fast
becoming familiar, that frown remaining while his fingers grip into the furs beneath them, his
strength nonexistent, and he wishes he had not taken being able to move for granted. He’s almost
unbearably sore, the way one gets when remaining in a single position for too long, or overexerting
themselves, but when he tries to turn his head, he finds that he's able to in slow shifts.

Which is an improvement.

On his immediate left, his features soften at what he sees. Jeongguk has dragged one of the
armchairs from the hearth next to his bed where he dozes, slumped to the side against the high-
backed, winged cushion.

Even with Jimin’s hazy vision, he can spy the way dark circles ring his eyes, the strands of his hair
limp and tangled as if he hasn’t combed it in days. He’s close enough that Jimin shouldn’t have to
exert much effort in order to be able to reach out and touch him, and though it takes his arm several
tries to cooperate, eventually his hand is able to brush against Jeongguk’s own.

The alpha’s eyes open immediately, wide and stricken when his gaze falls upon him, frozen, as if
he cannot believe what he looks upon.

“You’re awake,” he whispers in awe, hands coming up to cradle Jimin’s feeble one, placing gentle
kisses across the dry skin of his cracked knuckles, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes that
distress Jimin. “Are you in any pain?”

The answer isn’t as simple as a yes or no, so he tries to form words, vocal chords already protesting
as a terrible, strangled sound emits past his lips.

“Ah—uh…a l-little,” he croaks, not sounding like himself at all, throat still raw.
“Oh.”

It’s a small sound. More of a whimper on Jeongguk’s part, and Jimin fears he’s seconds away from
breaking down, even as he tries to hide it and be helpful.

“I can make you some more tea if you’d like?”

Jimin gives a stilted nod, watching while Jeongguk shakily gains his feet, placing another kiss to
his brow before he begins to brew the tea in his room, using water from the pitcher, and a cooking
pot he’s rigged over the fire.

Jimin is still exhausted, but not enough to sleep, so he allows his eyes to rest, listening to the
sounds while the alpha works, lashes fluttering back open once he carefully approaches.

“I made sure it wasn’t too hot again,” he murmurs, setting it on the bedside. “Can I sit you up?”

Jimin nods, hit with a wave of familiarity when Jeongguk reaches for him, very careful while he
repositions him, as if he handles a doll made of porcelain. He places another towel just under his
chin in case he spills, and cautiously pours a small amount of the liquid into Jimin's waiting
mouth.

Initially, he can’t taste much, but with each swallow a kind of bitter aftertaste remains, while the
hurt in his throat dulls until strangely, he feels a bit like he’s floating, unreachable by the pain.

“Better?”
“Better,” he rasps, horrified and fascinated with how unrecognizable he sounds.

“It’ll pass,” the alpha offers, seemingly able to read his thoughts. “Once your throat heals and you
use your voice more, it’ll go back to normal.”

Jimin nods, gaze drifting throughout the room, noting the way some things are moved around from
the how he remembers it, clutter forming along flat surfaces that he cannot place. Medical supplies
here, soiled rags there that look to hold a mixture of black ink and dried blood.

He feels filthy all of a sudden, and the only thing he wants to do is scrub at his skin until it turns
red.

“Ba-Bath,” he wheezes. “I w-want a b-bath.”

Jeongguk appears apprehensive at first, but eventually he nods in agreement, fingers tracing the
curve of his jaw in an affectionate gesture.

“I’ll speak to the guards outside the door. They’ll have a bath brought up for you.”

Jimin tries to offer a smile in gratitude, but he’s not sure if it falls short or not.

Jeongguk leaves his side with another brief kiss near his hairline, and Jimin allows his eyes to
close again, nodding off this time, lulled by the contents of the tea, for when he’s awakened next, a
hot bath has already been prepared in the center of his chambers, and Jeongguk stands over him
with a pinched brow.

“Are you alright my love? If you wish to sleep, that’s okay.”

Jimin gives a tiny shake of his head, weakly lifting his hand towards the alpha, knowing he’ll feel
better if he can somehow wash everything away.

Jeongguk takes it, and leaning on his strength, Jimin is pulled into a seated position, breathing
labored, sweat threatening to drip down the sides of his face as his heart pounds in his chest, ribs
feeling brittle, sure they'll crumble under the lightest force.

“I could carry you—”

Jimin shakes his head again, trying to convey that he’s appreciative of the offer, but he wants to try
and gain his own feet, even if that means he has to lean most of his weight on Jeongguk to do so.

Guiding his arm around his shoulders, Jeongguk wraps his own around his waist and lifts, pulling
Jimin up. A dizzy spell takes hold of him, but when it passes Jimin feels elated, because though
he’s wobbly and unbalanced, he is standing.

“One foot at a time, sweetheart. We'll go slow.”

But then Jimin’s gaze catches on something in the far corner, and this need fills him that he cannot
ignore.

“Can y-you take me t-to the mirror first?”

Jeongguk appears visibly surprised before a kind of apprehension takes hold, and it’s almost as if
he wants to deny the request, but Jimin will get there one way or another, with or without help. He
needs to see for some reason. Like an urge that won’t be denied. Needs to gaze upon himself and
take in with his own eyes what’s been done to him.
And the fact that Jeongguk is very obviously hesitant only adds to his anxiety.

“You’re sure?”

Jimin gives a shaky nod, leaning further into Jeongguk’s side as they make their way to his
standing mirror.

It’s a strenuous process, but all Jimin tries to focus on is putting one foot in front of the other,
uncaring of how far he’s come or his progress, as long as he continues to put one foot in front of
the other, he’ll be fine. He’ll make it.

And eventually, he does.

Though when he comes upon the reflective glass, he’s not so sure if that’s something to celebrate
over, the very breath stolen from his lungs by what he sees.

The person in the mirror…is not him.

It more adequately resembles a spectre, haunting the lodge with its pale complexion, cheeks as
sunken as its deep-set eyes, ringed with circles so dark the sharp contrast is startling. On, and
around his lips the skin is stained black, and an image floats into Jimin’s mind, bringing back
memories of his dreams as poison leaked from his eyes, nose and mouth.

Slowly, his hand comes up, touching the area in a kind of macabre fascination.

“It’s charcoal,” Jeongguk murmurs, and Jimin’s eyes meet his in the mirror. “I wanted to wash it
off, but every time I tried you would cry in your sleep, so I left it be.”
Jimin hums, his gaze sliding back over to his reflection.

He looks worn and feeble, as if he’s dropped a stone in weight, clothes hanging off of his frame,
silver hair dull, falling limply down past his shoulders.

Maybe in Jimin’s harsh opinion, he appears as if a corpse, reanimated, like one of those monsters
out of the fabels his mother used to read to him as a pup, and he realizes that without Jeongguk’s
quick thinking, he very well could be dead.

“Charcoal,” he rasps. “Why charcoal?”

Their eyes meet in the glass again, and Jeongguk’s appear so wide and young in that moment that
Jimin’s heart aches for him.

“It binds. Keeps things from being absorbed into the gut and entering your blood. That’s why we
had to get it into your stomach as fast as we could.”

Jimin stares at him in wonder, wishing more than anything that he could kiss him in this moment.

“I’m alive because of you.”

The alpha looks away, but it’s easy to see that he harbors a kind of guilt that Jimin cannot
understand.

Turning to face him, he asks, “Why do you look so upset?”

Jeongguk shakes his head, seeming to gather himself before he glances back up.

“If I had only been with you when the food was brought up—”

Jimin shushes him, his arm shaking when he lifts it, still weak, but he is determined to trace the
tips of his fingers over Jeongguk’s handsome face. To cup his cheek in physical affection that he
hopes will assure him that he did enough.

“It’s done,” he whispers. “And I’m here because of your efforts. Let us not linger in the past now
that you’ve given us a future.”

The alpha’s eyes mist over, while his own fingers gently encircle Jimin’s thin wrist, turning his
head to place a kiss to the center of his palm.

“Are you ready?”

With a nod, Jimin lets him lead the way to the bath, where Jeongguk helps him to strip his
garments, careful as he slips the fabric from his shoulders, allowing it to pool at his feet. He then
wraps his arm around Jimin's narrow waist, ribs visible, and lifts him over the lip of the tub before
slowly lowering him down into the warm water below.

While he soaks, the alpha collects cloths, oil, tooth powder and soap, carrying them back to his
side where he neatly organizes everything before dropping down to his knees, passing him the
tooth powder first so that he may clean his teeth.

The simple act is exhausting, and Jimin cradles his arm to his chest, bowing his head down so that
he doesn’t have to keep the limb held aloft as he scrubs. While he does that, Jeongguk opens the
vial of oil, the scent of eucalyptus reaching his nose, bringing forth a sigh as he pours some into the
water.

The alpha takes the cloth from him when he finishes with his mouth, then produces one of the
buckets of clean water next to the tub to help rinse it out. Regaining his feet, he holds that same
bucket while instructing Jimin to tilt his head back. Once he obeys, Jeongguk pours it over the long
silver strands, thorough in drenching them completely.

“May I wash you?”

Jimin meets his gaze when he nods, his features revealing his gratitude. Jeongguk takes his time,
scrubbing every inch of Jimin he can reach, from his hair, to his face, to his body, washing away
what he can of the ordeal, including the dried black charcoal that stubbornly clings to his lips.

When he’s done, he helps Jimin to stand, rinsing him off with the remainder of the clean water and
wrapping both him and his hair in terrycloth.

“Can you carry me alpha?” Jimin requests, words slurred from how tired he is.

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate, and immediately sweeps him off of his feet and into his arms, carrying
him towards the only remaining armchair in front of the roaring fire. When he sets him down, he
moves away to retrieve some fresh nightclothes, as well as a brush and tie.

Jimin manages to stay awake long enough to redon clothes, but as soon as Jeongguk begins to
softly comb through the tangles in his hair, he’s sure he drifts off, sleeping through him brushing it
out and then plaiting it, only waking again when he lifts him back into his arms.

Nuzzling into his neck as he’s carried to bed, Jimin hums, soothed by the comforting scent of
rosemary and cloves.
“I changed the bedding while you slept, love. Rest as much as you need, I’ll be right here with
you,” he swears again, pulling his waif-like body into his arms, and Jimin’s fingers try to burrow
into the soft material of his tunic, his exhaustion mounting with his comfort, warm and clean.

“How did you know?” he mumbles terribly, barely awake. “About the poison, I mean. How did
you know?”

The alpha’s arms tighten around him, the question clearly distressing, and Jimin hates how haunted
he sounds when he says, “Tomorrow, my love. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Sleep now.”

Jimin hums again just before his dreams reclaim him.

________________

“You’re gripping it too tight, and your aim is off.”

Next to him, Naeri scoffs, but when she releases another arrow Jimin watches as it misses his
doppleganger, burying in the trunk of a tree as the other him weaves in and out of sight.

“I told you. You’re not accounting for the wind.”

“You’re lucky I don’t kill you,” she huffs, clearly frustrated.

A smile curls along his lips.

“Isn’t that the point?”

Notching another arrow, she hardly aims this time before letting it go, and it finds its mark in the
ground.

“Too low. I’d hurry up if I were you, they’re getting closer.”

“If you’re such a good shot, why don’t I just give the bow to you?”

Jimin shrugs.

“Don’t need it.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve got this,” he answers, pulling a dagger free from his belt, and when Neari glances down at it,
he lunges forward, embedding the blade deep in her gut.

The omega gurgles wetly, but she stares at him as if nothing amiss has occurred. As if it doesn't
pain her. When she coughs, Jimin feels the wet spray of blood dust his cheeks, watching as it drips
from the corners of her own lips.

“You’re coughing up blood," he points out, concern laced in his tone. "Are you sick?”

She shakes her head, unaffected when she points out, “You are too.”
Jimin frowns, and sure enough, when he lifts a hand to his mouth it comes away wet, vermillion
staining his skin.

“Maybe it’s contagious.”

“These are weapons, Jimin, not an act of the gods. It’s all man made.”

“Man made?” he repeats, confused, still holding onto the hilt of the dagger even as blood pours
over his hand, making his grip a precarious thing. “Someone did this to me?”

Naeri nods, gripping his wrist as if he’s in danger of pulling the blade free, and as a consequence
it sinks deeper into her belly.

“Why would they?”

When she smiles, it’s made ominous by the blood that stains the surface of her teeth along with the
crevices of her gums, and she leans further in until she can whisper in his ear.

“Because you are not worthy.”

________________

Jimin’s eyes fly open, the nightmare sinking its claws into him, refusing to let go, and his stomach
twists, the imagery upsetting, skin crawling, breath heaving as if he’s run a great distance—
“More nightmares?”

Jimin turns his head, absently noting how much easier it is to do so, as it brings barely any
discomfort now. His gaze meets Jeongguk’s concerned one from where he sits next to him in the
high-backed chair again, a book open but forgotten over the furs. When Jimin takes the time to
study it, he realizes it’s The Book of the Pack.

“How did you know?”

“You still cry out in your sleep. Sometimes you talk as well.”

Jimin looks away, far to bone-weary to be embarrassed.

“I have a lot of new material to supply them with now,” he murmurs, too monotone to be self-
pitying, but he does miss the days when his nightmares were limited.

His voice still sounds ragged to his ears, but just as the alpha had said, it’s already improved from
the way it was since he last spoke.

Fingers interlace with his own drawing his attention, and Jimin turns his softened gaze to his mate,
overwhelmed with a kind of emotion he cannot put a name to, and Jeongguk appears to mirror the
sentiment, eyes overly bright in the barely there glow of predawn.

Though the attempt was on his life, Jeongguk has suffered right along with him, maybe even more
so. How long has he had to live with fear curling inside of his gut, burrowing a home in his very
being as he was forced to go through each day in a limbo of uncertainty, unsure if Jimin would pull
through or not. How many hours did he forgo sleep or his basic needs in order to remain by his
side, ever vigilant, desperate for his prayers to be answered?
“There’s food,” Jeongguk gently informs, motioning to a plate on a bed tray next to him, and Jimin
stares at it with wide eyes, unseeing as terror begins to creep in the corners of his mind—

Jeongguk’s hand squeezes his own, bringing him back from the precipice of his thoughts.

“I made it personally, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Again, Jimin’s heart swells at the thoughtfulness, and before he knows it, words are tumbling out
of his mouth.

“I love you.”

The alpha’s lips part, but no sound slips free, doe-eyes wider than usual, and Jimin presses on, not
at all regretting his declaration.

“I have for some time now, but for some foolish reason I chose to keep it to myself, and I almost
didn’t get the chance to tell you. I want to rectify that now, because we really don’t know what will
happen between one moment and the next. I love you, Jeongguk. So much,” he whispers, voice
breaking at the end, and he barely has time to react before lips tenderly slant over his own, the kiss
chaste, just pressure and their scents blending as they breathe each other in.

“I love you too, Jimin,” he sighs into his mouth, and he gladly takes the words inside himself, heat
igniting in his stomach and chasing away the chill as he swallows them down.

Their connection seems to sing, and if nothing else this ordeal has brought them closer, tied their
souls together in a way that can only happen in the face of potential loss, and what that does to the
body and mind.
They stay like that, cradling each other close, neither one of them ready to let the other go. Not
after they were almost forcefully torn from each other.

Hands frame his face, and Jimin gets lost in the galaxy inside Jeongguk's eyes.

"You are like air to me, do you understand?"

He nods, the hands moving with him as he does so, and whispers in answer, "I need you to
breathe."

Jeongguk's features soften at the words, and again Jimin finds himself pulled into a gentle kiss.

Several moments pass when he hears the way the alpha sniffles, and slowly straightening back up
again he tries to take on a stern expression.

“Your food is getting cold, love. You need to eat something. It’ll help.”

Jimin isn’t so sure, and when he sees what’s on offer he’s even more unenthusiastic.

“Broth, rice, and bread.”

“They’ll be easy on the stomach. You don’t have to eat much. Just a bit of each should suffice.”
Jimin frowns at the dishes, but doesn’t protest when the alpha moves the tray forward to allow him
easier access. He shouldn’t be ungrateful. Jeongguk made this for him, after all. But still he finds
himself putting it off.

“When are you going to tell me what happened?”

“As soon as you’re finished,” Jeongguk answers without missing a beat, seemingly aware of his
tactics. “The others wish to see you as well. There is much to discuss.”

Jimin ignores how ominous that sounds, deciding that the alpha is right. It can wait until after he’s
done, no need to upset either of them further until then.

He isn’t able to eat much, the food texture not agreeing with him, stomach displeased with
everything but the broth, but with each passing bite, no matter how small, Jeongguk’s smile grows,
so Jimin bears it.

When the tray is removed, the alpha turns back to him, appearing almost nervous.

“Are you ready? I can tell the guards at the door to summon everyone.”

Jimin swallows and nods, his anxiousness not coupling well with the freshly eaten food while
Jeongguk crosses the room and pokes his head outside his door, speaking in soft tones to the
soldiers that must be right outside.

Once he returns, Jimin watches as he lowers himself back down in the armchair, and together, they
wait. It doesn’t take any time at all really before his door is bursting open, and in runs Taehyung,
making a beeline to him, only just heeding Jeongguk’s warning of, “Careful” as he cups Jimin's
cheeks and brings their foreheads together, scenting him. A pitiful whimper sounds up in the back
of his throat, and absently Jimin wonders if he still smells like poison.
Or death.

Taehyung seems almost too overwhelmed to speak, but when they’re eyes meet again he swears he
can hear every word he wants to convey. When he does try to form words, it nearly breaks Jimin’s
heart.

“You could’ve—you almost—”

“I know,” he assures, his poor attempts to soothe likely falling short.

“I’m just…I’m so glad you’re here,” the omega finishes on a winded breath, and Jimin hopes his
smile reveals his affection.

“Me too, Tae.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, Namjoon and Seokjin file into the room shortly after, until even Jimin’s
diminished sense of smell picks up rosemary and cloves, bergamot and citrus, cypress, cinnamon,
fraser fir, mint and marjoram, overwhelming him but in the best possible way. Together, it smells
like comfort and safety.

Though the beta and alphas appear more reserved in comparison to Taehyung, Jimin notes
peculiarly that they’re arms and fingers seem to twitch, lips parting before closing again, as if there
is so much they long to do, to say, and it’s taking all of their thinly veiled control to give him space.
Jimin decides to break the silence first, hoping it’ll put an end to them staring at him as if he’s
performed some kind of a miracle.

“Hello friends.”
His voice still isn’t back to normal yet, but the simple words seem to break something within those
gathered, their feelings clear in the lilt of their own voices as they return the greeting.

“It would seem a lot has unfolded while I was indisposed. I ask for you to fill me in.”

“What do you remember?” Jeongguk softly questions, and Jimin turns to him as his brow creases,
distressed once he conjures up that horrible day.

“You went to make me tea. Hanyu brought me food while you were away, but when you came
back—you stopped me from eating anymore. And then…pain.”

Jeongguk inhales deeply, shuddering in a way that reveals his own difficulty at having to relive
this.

“How did you know?” Jimin asks again, in front of everyone this time. “How did you know it was
poisoned?”

“The smell,” he answers, a kind of haunted look in his eyes as he stares at nothing. “There is a plant
that is abundant in Soksagim. My mother called it meadow saffron, and the smell it produces is
easily recognizable. Bitter in a way I cannot describe, but it’s not something you ever forget.”

Jimin frowns, taking in the information, but then Jeongguk’s hand grips his own and their eyes
meet again.

“There’s more. Meadow saffron only blooms in September, which means they’ve been planning
this for some time.”
Jimin processes that somewhat numbly, as if he’s just a bystander, and everything is actually
happening to someone else. Maybe he needs that separation.

Maybe he’ll go mad otherwise.

“They? Do you know who did this?”

Taehyung’s breath hitches, but Namjoon answers without any hesitation.

“Hanyu and Minhei.”

Jimin’s eyes sink closed, his stomach churning with the news. Though he didn’t want to believe it,
Hanyu was the most likely culprit. She serves him and his table in the Great Hall, and when he
doesn’t attend, she brings a plate to his room.

But Minhei—

He had only just become acquainted with the beta, so heartbreakingly young and in possession of
what seemed to be such a sweet disposition that even Taehyung was fond of him. That, along with
the loss of the boy's parents had caused Jimin to experience a stirring in the part of his nature that
longs to protect and nurture. It’s why he replaced his cloak…

Only to see that kindness returned with an attempt to snuff out his own life.

“How do we know it was them?”

Somehow, his voice remains calm and steady with the question.

“That same smell of meadow saffron was all over their hands,” Jeongguk answers. “And they had
yet to discard of the evidence when they were caught.”

“Were they—did someone put them up to it?”

Jimin already knows the answer, but he asks it anyway.

“They’re refusing to talk as of now,” Namjoon replies, appearing weary, and Jimin stares at him
for a moment, a frown hardening his features.

“Where are they now?”

“Below, in the cellar.”

He shivers at the very thought, and he can’t help but despise the part of himself that feels sympathy
towards those that showed him none.

But he supposes that’s what separates him from them.

“There’s more you need to understand,” Hoseok speaks into the silence, successfully drawing
Jimin from his thoughts. “Jeongguk and I have discussed the symptoms of this plant at length, and
I have come to the determination that…it is the sole cause of what we thought to be the mysterious
illness that's been plaguing the village.”
Jimin blinks at the healer slowly, confusion seeping into his mind, brow furrowed as he shakes his
head.

“That…that cannot be.”

“It started with your father,” Hoseok continues slowly, as if desperate to make Jimin understand.
“He seemed to become ill in stages, and then all at once it worsened. You remember?”

Jimin nods, hands clasped over his lap, fingers twisting.

“An illness that was not passed through proximity, but seemed to spread at random, though your
father’s case remained the most severe. I believe that in order to avoid suspicion, after the head
alpha was bedridden those involved decided to use less intense dosages of the poison when going
after you.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Jimin murmurs. “If it was just my father and I they wished to
eliminate, how did so many others fall ill? Jongdae, and the other dozen or so that became sick.”

Taehyung gazes at him with sympathy-filled eyes when he answers.

“Our food supply was low, and you kept giving away your share of meals to others who were
hungry.”

Jimin’s lips part to release a small, distressed sound, body trembling as that knowledge sinks in
with all the weight of a crushing boulder.

He was inadvertently giving people tainted food.

Tainted food that was meant for him—

Hands cover his own, and Jimin jumps, looking up into Jeongguk’s hard eyes as he leans forward.

“None of this was your fault. None of it,” he declares, voice shaking with conviction.

Most of him knows that to be true, but a smaller part—the part of him that whispers doubt into his
ears—is the part Jimin finds himself sometimes listening to and believing.

He is; in some way, responsible, even if he was ignorant of what was really going on.

Jimin sits there quietly for several minutes, unable to wrap his head around everything, though he
tries.

There was never any illness? It was all just a plot to poison his father and then him?

“How did my father survive?” he wonders aloud.

After all, there was no one shoving charcoal down into his stomach.

“Your father’s a big man,” Seokjin murmurs while Jeongguk nods before adding onto that.

“I’ve heard some people can have a natural immunity to a certain extent. But it could just be that
they didn’t give him enough, though I can’t say for sure.”
Jimin swallows, remembering something else.

“Haneul said he was getting better. That he was lucid, and then he started deteriorating.”

“We’re sure that once he began eating again, they started poisoning him again.”

Jimin releases a long drawn out breath, shaking his head and staring at the furs, hardly able to
think clearly, though there is one thought more discernable than others, poking at his curiosity.

“Why up the dosage now? If they had just kept going as they had done, I would’ve died and
everyone would’ve assumed the cause to be from the mysterious plague that they had inadvertently
created.”

Namjoon shifts and then crosses his arms, appearing both angry and upset.

“Hanyu was eavesdropping that night. She overheard your plans to mate Jeongguk the following
day, and knew if she didn’t move we would have another head alpha. They wanted to kill you
before that could happen, so the position would be open for the taking.”

“Doyun,” Jimin murmurs, nausea filling him so potently he’s sure he’s going to be sick for a
moment. “He used to boast that he would mate me, regardless of my father’s decision to give me a
choice. Then he tried to kill my father so that I wouldn’t have much say in the matter. But when
that didn’t work, and my affection for Jeongguk became known, he tried to get rid of me next. All
in pursuit of a title and power.”

“His ideals and plans have spread to others,” Yoongi adds. “Eun, Naeri, Hanyu and Minhei.
Somehow he's converting people to his cause. We still have no idea how far his reach goes, and if
the two in the cellar don’t speak out against him, it’ll be hard to prove.”
“I am of the mind that we kill him anyway,” Seokjin mutters, and Jeongguk immediately agrees.

“I second that motion.”

“We would be breaking our own laws that we’ve fought so hard to uphold if we were to do so,”
Namjoon interjects, logical in the face of emotion.

“And what do your laws say about holding someone for interrogation?” Jeongguk wonders.

“That might be all his allies need to push for open rebellion,” Yoongi argues. “It's likely they don't
know for sure if Minhei and Hanyu succeeded or not. They’re waiting for something, a sign that
reveals the state Jimin is in. If he yet lives.”

“We don’t know how far his reach is either.” Taehyung adds. “He could have many under his
influence.”

“We cannot stay on the offensive forever,” Jeongguk nearly growls, clearly getting worked up.
“We tried that, and this is the result.” He motions to Jimin's bedridden form, and as a result it feels
as if the room gets heavier, crushed under the weight of what nearly came to pass.

“Maybe you’re right,” Namjoon concedes to the surprise of everyone gathered. “They continously
have the advantage while we sit and wait for them to make a move.”

But Jimin shakes his head.

“What is it we could do? Banish him? Lie and say his accomplices gave him up? Lock him away,
execute him? As we’ve already said, we have no idea how far his reach extends. Even if we get rid
of Doyun, his sympathizers will remain. It’ll be like cutting off the head of a hydra. The beast will
not die, and in its place, two more heads will spring up.”

The room is quiet for a moment before Jeongguk takes another deep breath and speaks.

“Regardless, there’s something more pressing we have to deal with.”

Jimin’s heart falls. What could be more pressing than this.

At the confusion his face must show, the alpha elaborates.

“Meadow saffron; the plant you were poisoned with, can have lasting effects on the body, and
despite our best efforts to get it out of your system, both you and your father will need something
more to combat it. There’s another plant—Echinacea—that can help.”

“The only problem is it’s winter, and nothing is growing,” Seokjin huffs.

“But I have some,” Jeongguk reveals, doe-eyes bright, cheeks flushed in his eagerness. “I have a
supply of herbs at my home, including Echinacea.”

Jimin stares at the others gathered, concerned about revealing too much of Jeongguk’s birthright
when the alpha gently squeezes his hands again, expression soft.

“They know,” he murmurs. “I told them. Showed them the book.”

“A right shock that was,” Seokjin mutters before Jeongguk presses on.

“There’s a problem though. We tried to send men to retrieve the plant, but they couldn’t locate my
home. It’s cleverly hidden, which means I’m going to have to go.”

Jimin immediately shakes his head, stomach falling further at the thought, even as the alpha tries to
assure him.

“I have to love. You need it. Your father needs it.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

“Jimin,” he sighs. “The journey would be too much for you. Especially in your current condition.
You need rest—”

“Could you leave me here, knowing what you do, knowing they could try again. Could you bear
it?”

Jeongguk visibly falters, torn between what he wants and what Jimin needs.

“Sweetheart—”

“He should go with you,” Namjoon interrupts, again, surprising everyone in the room, but when it
wears off for Jeongguk, he appears upset.
“He nearly died—”

“No one knows that better than you. And no one will take care of him better than you will. The
danger is here, Jeongguk. If he goes with you, he’ll be away from it, and he’ll get the remedy all
the more faster.”

The alpha seems to sway on his standing, and when he releases a shaky breath, Jimin knows he has
him.

“Alright. But we should leave tonight, under the cover of darkness.”

“I agree,” Namjoon chimes in before addressing Jimin. “They still don’t know what’s happened to
you. We need to keep it that way. No one outside of this room must know you are no longer within
these walls.”

“The more people who believe you’re still inside the village, the better,” Yoongi agrees.

“I’ll clear the east gate, give you a window,” Namjoon directs at Jeongguk, the two alphas
nodding.

“I can help you prepare for the journey. You’ll need provisions. A horse, at least,” Taehyung
offers, receiving a look of gratitude from both Jeongguk and Jimin.

“Who’s preparing our food,” Jimin wonders, concerned.

“If it’s for you or your father, Jeongguk and I are doing it personally,” Seokjin answers. “Though
the kitchens are currently housing guards in every corner, in case any other attempts are made. I’m
going to make my way down there now. Prepare enough for your journey.”
With that he regains his feet, coming around to the unoccupied side of the bed to Jimin’s prone
form, and in a rare display of emotion, places a hand over his heart, as if he needs to feel it beating
beneath his palm.

They stare at each other, something pivotal left unsaid but heard all the same. And with that,
Seokjin takes his leave, a quiet descending before Taehyung puts an end to it.

“Jeongguk? How long would you say it will take to get from here to your home?”

“If I ride fast and we are not delayed, three hours. Maybe less.”

“Then I’ll start preparations as well. You’ll need to be well equipped for the journey ahead.”

With a lasting look, he too steps out of the room until only the five of them remain.

“How is my father?” Jimin wonders, posing the question to Hoseok.

“He’s stable. No further decline, but also no noticeable improvement. Haneul and I are caring for
him in shifts, but guards stand vigilant both outside his chambers as well as inside, trustworthy
men who will protect him with their life, if need be.”

“Thank you,” he brokenly whispers, hoping that his gratitude is clear.

He's still affected by the image of him in one of his many nightmares, skin dull, eyes unseeing—
“Of course. I need to get back to him, but I’ve given Jeongguk some herbal tea that you should
drink before the journey. It should help.”

Jimin nods, and just like Seokjin, Hoseok approaches, leaning down until they can scent each
other, his breath tickling his ear when he whispers, “Words cannot convey how grateful I am that
you are still here with us.”

Their cheeks brush as he lifts back up again, Jimin’s eyes drowning in tears, the healer carefully
wiping them away before cupping his cheek and exiting the room.

“You,” Namjoon directs at Jeongguk once the healer is gone, “I ordered a bath to be drawn in your
room. Go, get clean.”

Jeongguk appears as if he wants to protest, but Namjoon will hear none of it.

“Now. You have not left his side since it happened. Take care of yourself. We’ll look after him.”

The alpha turns to Jimin as if looking for someone to take his side, but instead he musters up what
he can of an encouraging expression and nods.

“Go. I’ll be alright.”

Something flashes over Jeongguk's features that looks almost like fear, but he hides it away just as
fast, nodding to himself in a kind of reassurance. When the alpha stands, he comes closer to him,
leaning down until their foreheads connect gently, Jimin’s omega whining once their lips brush in a
featherlight kiss.
“I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I know, alpha.”

Jeongguk seems to have to force himself to leave the room, lingering on the threshold before he
finally slips out the door, and Jimin is left alone with both Namjoon and Yoongi. He waits a minute
more, and after he’s sure that Jeongguk isn’t coming back, he holds Namjoon’s gaze.

“Hanyu and Minhei. I want to see them.”

The guard isn’t at all surprised. If anything, he seems to have expected it.

“Can you walk?”

Jimin throws the furs back and away from him, legs slowly rotating until he can sit up and place
them flat on the ground. By the time he manages it he feels like he’s overexerted himself, but he
doesn’t let that stop him. Bracing against the mattress, Jimin puts his weight on his legs, and
slowly begins to stand. He’s a bit unsteady, and he has to lean against the bed frame, but he does
reach his full height, gazing back at the two alphas with a hint of pride, even as sweat beads along
his brow.

Even Namjoon is smiling, eyes bright.

“Yoongi, take his left. I’ll take his right. We have a lot of stairs to cover.”

They bring him his slippers, and Namjoon insists on bundling him up in his silver fur cloak, hood
and all.
“It’s cold in the cellar,” he murmurs before both alphas offer him an arm each, and they leave the
comfort of his room behind, taking the back way and running into no one.

The Great Lodge is reminiscent of when his father first became terribly ill, the halls deserted, the
torches unlit.

Like a ghost manor in one of those fanciful tales.

As they descend deeper and deeper into the lodge, Jimin becomes more and more grateful that
Namjoon insisted on bundling him up, the draft terrible, each of their breaths visible.

There are guards just outside one of the doors that leads down into the cellar, and once they spot
Namjoon they give a stiff nod and move to open it for them. Once they clear that staircase, they
come down into a room that houses even more guards, and even with the giant hearth lit up in the
center it is still terribly uncomfortable, the chill going straight to the bones.

And there in their own cells, seperated with an empty one in between them, is Hanyu and Minhei.

When Namjoon and Yoongi bring him to stand before the two, Jimin tilts his head up, allowing the
light to hit his face from beneath the hood, a vindictive kind of delight filling him when they both
appear visibly shaken at seeing him, as if they had convinced themselves they managed to carry
out their sinister task. He’s proven right when Hanyu sneers.

“You live.”

It’s disconcerting, to say the least, for as long as he’s known her she has only ever shown herself to
hold a kind, albeit timid disposition. But he supposes that was the point. He saw what she wanted
him to see.
“I live,” he repeats, voice devoid of emotion. “Though very soon, I cannot say the same for you.”

They both stare at him with widened eyes, and Jimin might've felt guilty over the bluff if they
hadn’t tried to murder him in cold blood.

“You thought you could get away with it? End my family line to make room for another.”

Minhei trembles, his countenance pale, but Jimin shows no sympathy, especially when he sees that
the beta currently wears the very cloak Jimin gifted him with, and it makes something inside of
him burn.

“Oh yes. I know all about your plans. Were you promised something in return for your loyalty?
For your treason.”

Minhei visibly blanches at the word while Hanyu bares her teeth.

“You are not worthy,” she growls, and Jimin snorts.

“Naeri claimed the same.”

“She was ten times the omega you are—”

“And yet she’s dead, and here I stand.”

The quiet after such a statement is overwhelming, and Jimin stares at the two prisoners, trying not
to let that fire inside consume him.

“Naeri was an orphan,” he suddenly recalls, addressing Hanyu. “As are you, I believe. And you,”
he continues, turning to Minhei, his anger the only thing keeping him steady. “You lost your
parents recently.”

His eyes roam over the ground as he considers it.

“Is that how you’re so easily persuaded? Does he take on the role of caregiver for you? Guide you
in his way of thinking as he molds your pliable minds. Does he coax you with promises and
honeyed words, swearing to make all your dreams come true?”

Minhei’s lips part, and Jimin stares at only him when he presses.

“Give me a name.”

But Hanyu is quick to silence him.

“Keep your mouth shut.”

Jimin’s gaze turns back to her, and he approaches her cell with help from his friends at his sides.

“What about you then, hmm? What was your price?”

Her smile is more of a sneer when she answers.

“I am to be his omega. A stupid cunt like you couldn’t see what was right in front of him. You’d
rather spread your legs for rogue filth.”

She spits on the ground, and Jimin stares at where it lands in apathy.

Doyun had called Jeongguk the same in Soksagim, and he can't help but see him in her now, his
influence obvious as her vitriol-fueled tirade continues.

“But your loss is my gain, and I’ll make sure our mating ceremony takes place on your grave.”

Jimin’s lips turn up in a smile that holds no amusement over the claim, and the hatred that runs
through him in that moment makes him unrecognizable, even to himself, but his voice reveals none
of it, calm in the face of her rage when he responds.

“How long have the two of you been down here, hmm? How long has he left you to rot? There are
no windows. The sun could be shining and you wouldn't even know it. Could be days. Could be
weeks, months. How many times have you failed to kill me, because from where I’m standing, it
seems like the very man you pledged your life to is tired of your failures.”

They stare at him in silence, Minhei appearing adrift, ready to breakdown, while Hanyu's chest
heaves with her palpable fury and unease, and it feeds Jimin’s spitefulness.

“A word of advice. If you somehow do manage to free yourselves from your current predicament
and come after me or my family again to finish what you started, make sure you kill me, because if
you don’t, I’ll reign down upon you such pain that by the end you won’t even remember your own
names anymore, and the only desire you’ll have is for the end of your suffering. But even if you
beg, I'll show you the same mercy you showed me.”
None.

________________

By the time Namjoon and Yoongi escort him back to his room, it’s midday, and Jeongguk is
already inside waiting for him on the bed, appearing far more refreshed and wearing warm but
comfortable garments. By the look he levels both Namjoon and Yoongi, he knows exactly where
they’ve been, but he doesn’t comment on it until both soldiers take their leave, proving Jimin right.

“You were down in the cellars, weren’t you.”

It isn't a question.

“Yes,” he answers candidly. “I’m surprised you didn’t charge in to bring me back.”

The alpha shrugs.

“I understand your need to confront them. And besides, the guards won’t let me anywhere near the
cells.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I nearly killed them when I smelled the poison on their hands.”

Jimin’s jaw falls open.

“You discovered them?”

Jeongguk nods, that same haunted look taking over his features, but he immediately rises and helps
Jimin remove his cloak and get settled on the bed, the two of them laying down on their sides to
face each other, drink each other in.

“We should rest. Tonight, we go into Soksagim when the moon is high.”

Jimin’s body feels heavy, exhausted even as he sinks deeper into the down mattress, but his mind
refuses to calm.

It all comes to a halt when Jeongguk slides closer to him, nuzzling into his sensitive neck to scent
him deeply, releasing comforting pheromones of his own, rosemary and cloves setting him at
ease.

“How do you do that,” Jimin slurs, lids fluttering.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I’m floating. My mind was in turmoil a moment ago, but now it’s quiet.”

Jeongguk hums, clearly pleased.

“I think we balance each other perfectly. When I feel adrift, you anchor me and I find solace in
you. And when you feel disquieted, I can be your serenity.”
 “My other half,” Jimin murmurs, feeling the clutches of sleep trying to pull him under just as
Jeongguk pulls him closer.

“My other half,” the alpha repeats, voice wavering as he carries on. “I nearly lost you, and I don’t
think I’ve ever been so frightened.”

“I’m alive because of you,” Jimin reiterates, needing Jeongguk to know that, even as his
consciousness slowly fades.

“Maybe,” he whispers, and Jimin isn’t sure if he dreams his next words or if they accompany him
into sleep.

“Wherever you go—be it this life or the next—I’ll follow you.”

Chapter End Notes

Some of you guessed it was the poison all along and I am in awe
 The Tempest and the Claim

“Jimin? Wake up, love.”

His eyes squeeze tight at the soft request, a raspy hum rumbling up the soreness of his throat, the
lids of his eyes feeling as if they adhered to each other while he slept, and it takes a moment to
blink some clarity into his vision, waiting for shapes to take form.

Jeongguk stands next to the bed where he lies, already dressed and ready for the coming journey.
His dark, fur cloak is tied securely across his broad shoulders, thick riding gloves protecting his
hands, and a carved wooden mug with steam wafting over the top of it in his hold, the soothing
smell tickling Jimin’s nose even through his dulled senses.

It’s clear the alpha let him rest for as long as he possibly could, and Jimin’s heart warms at the
thought, touched by the gesture.

Still groggy, he watches as Jeongguk carefully sets the mug down on the side table, kneeling on the
bed in order to help him sit up.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a tree fell on me,” he admits honestly, grimacing at the way his voice sounds scratchy and
raw, while his body—particularly his limbs and abdomen—aches in a way he isn’t used to, a sense
of brittleness to his bones that has him feeling alarmingly breakable. “What’s that,” he wonders,
inclining his head towards the drink.

“A tea made from the herbs Hoseok left for you. Should help with the pain.”

Jimin obediently tilts his head back, thinking it best that the alpha holds the heated mug for him,
his hands still having a tendency to carry a tremor after his—after…

It stings going down, but relatively quickly there is relief, and Jimin doesn’t stop until there’s
nothing left, Jeongguk pleased, though he openly stares at him as if awaiting a verdict.

“Feels better,” he offers, even if he doesn’t sound better, and Jeongguk nods, leaning down further
to place a sweet kiss near his temple.

It’s then that he notices the little fluff of white revealed beneath the inky black strands of
Jeongguk’s hair, large, vibrant red eyes staring back at him.

“Eunoia,” he murmurs, grinning when she tilts her head almost completely upside down, shuffling
along Jeongguk’s shoulder before hopping onto Jimin's bent knee, letting out the softest trills once
he runs the back of his quivering hand down her front, careful not to displace her.

“She’s missed you.” Jeongguk reveals, a weight to his tone that Jimin can’t hope to understand,
one that speaks to the ordeal the alpha went through while Jimin slowly recovered.

“Did she?”

Jeongguk hums. “She was inconsolable before I started allowing her in here to see you. Sometimes
while you slept, she would make a nest out of your hair and rest beside your neck.”

Jimin gives a wet warbling laugh as he pets Eunoia again, hating that the simple motion feels as if
he’s depleted the remaining strength he has; something Jeongguk easily picks up on, ever
observant, and with a short, lilting whistle Eunoia is back on his shoulder, though her gaze remains
fixed on Jimin.
“Is she coming with us?”

Surprisingly, Jeongguk shakes his head.

“We’re going by horseback, there’s no wagon this time to house her, and the winds have picked up,
a storm on the way. I’m worried it would be too difficult a journey for her, so she’ll remain here
with Hoseok.”

Jimin nods in understanding, though he knows he’ll miss her presence.

Outside the glass of his bedroom windows it's pitch black, and Jimin feels a fatigue that only
comes with being awakened in the middle of the night, regretfully adding to the residual
exhaustion he's been suffering since even before the poisoning. Jeongguk has already lit several
candles, illuminating the space in a soft glow, and helps him to dress, Jimin increasingly frustrated
that he’s still so weak, but the way his mate treats him is like a soothing balm to that particular hit
to his pride. He’s guided into layers, the alpha murmuring about the drop in temperature before
fitting gloves over his hands, easing him into his fur cloak afterwards, the material heavier than he
remembers, what he’s been put through never more apparent than it is now.

No sooner is he fully dressed that there’s a knock on the door to his chambers, and Jeongguk eases
him back down onto his bed before moving to answer, opening the thick wood only a few inches to
check who is on the other side. He then steps back and pulls it open fully, revealing Namjoon in
the doorway.

“Preparations are complete. Are the two of you ready?”

Jeongguk stares back at him for confirmation, and Jimin gives a slight shake of his head.

“May I see my father before we go?”

“Of course,” the guard murmurs in assurance, staying by the door as Jeongguk comes back to his
side, helping him once more to stand, Eunoia letting out the quietest sounds as the shoulder she
rests on leans too far forward, but her little talons dig into Jeongguk’s cloak and the owl manages
to keep her perch.

With the alpha’s assistance, and led by his measured steps, the three of them traverse the darkened
path to his father’s quarters, the torches that adorn the halls still not lit, the lodge dark. In sharp
contrast, when they finally enter the high alpha's guarded room, it’s lit up more so than usual,
candles placed on various flat surfaces, a fire roaring in the hearth as if attempting to illuminate
every shadowed corner to reveal any potential threats.

His father remains a still figure in the center of the bed, though his chest rises and falls far less
shallowly than Jimin remembers. Or maybe that’s just his mind playing tricks on him. On one side
of the frame sits Haneul, and on the other is Hoseok, the younger beta gaining his feet as soon as
their eyes meet.

“My lord—”

Jimin waves away the formality, trying to set them at ease with what he can manage of a small
smile.

“How is he?”

“He woke up an hour past,” Haneul answers in her familiar crackling voice, though her milky eyes
stay trained on Jungkook, the alpha staring back unabashedly, and Jimin can feel how unnerved he
is, as if the emotions were his own.

"Did he say anything?" Jimin wonders, almost frantic, his father's fate still uncertain.
"Nothing that carried any kind of sense, but his eyes were more alert than they have been in recent
times."

Again, she says it to Jeongguk, neither one of their gazes wavering, and Jimin decides it's best to
introduce them after realizing this is their first meeting.

"Jeongguk, this is our senior healer, Haneul. Haneul this is—"

"I know who he is," she bristles, her thin, etched lips pulled up into a grin. "I recognize the scent of
every wolf I help bring into this world, Jeon Jeongguk."

The silence that follows is almost too loud, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire to break the
tension, and like Jeongguk, Jimin finds his lips parted in surprise, the memory of a deathbed dream
tugging at his mind while the old healer continues.

"You were a stubborn pup, I'll tell you that. Gave your mother a lot of grief when it was her time."

"You knew my mother well?"

She seems to catch something in his words that has a sadness settling into the deep lines of her
face, wilting the corners of her mouth until they're downturned.

"Of course. She could rival me with her knowledge of botany. A talent she was, and the only one
who could give Jeongsu as good as he gave." Her voice turns far more somber at the mention of
Jeongguk's father, and Jimin himself is affected by the grief that seems to tinge his mate's aura,
eyes downcast while the old beta continues.

"He was a good man, Jeongsu."

Jeongguk gives a clipped nod, as if there's nothing more to say on the subject. And maybe there
isn't now, but later…maybe then, when things settle, they can speak more on the only alpha in the
pack that was brave enough to lay down his life for his son.

If they ever settle.

With Jeongguk’s help, Jimin approaches the bed, leaning against the frame so it’ll support his
weight when the alpha reluctantly lets him go at his gentle insistence. The muted scent of thyme
still upsets his wolf, but it doesn’t seem as faint as it was the last time he visited, which can only be
a good sign. Smoothing his hand over his father's brow, Jimin moves in further and scents him as
best he can, hoping his own familiar petrichor and polianthes comforts the man even in sleep.

“I’ll come back, father,” he whispers, sending a silent prayer to the gods to keep him safe. “I’m
going to bring something that can help.”

The alpha’s breath stutters, and for a moment Jimin’s heart races in anticipation, sure he’ll blink
open his eyes…

But he remains asleep.

Jeongguk helps him back up as soon as he reaches for him, Hoseok coming around the bed when
the alpha whistles under his breath at Eunoia, the little owl hopping from his shoulder onto his
hand, nuzzling against his cheek when he lifts her close.

"Take care of yourself little love," he murmurs, Jimin's own fingers coming up to slide down her
back when he whispers his farewell, her little beak latching onto the glove-covered digit and
making him smile.
When she's placed onto Hoseok's arm she appears almost betrayed, clearly uneasy in present
company, adopting a position to take flight, wanting nothing more than to return to the two people
she's only ever preferred.

But with a click under Jeongguk's tongue she straightens again, remaining where she is, even as she
fidgets and ruffles her feathers in displeasure. At the sadness Jimin sees in her eyes, he nearly
argues to bring her with them, but Jeongguk is right. The journey won't be easy, and she's safer
here.

“Thank you,” the alpha murmurs to Hoseok, the beta giving a terse nod with a brave face that
Jimin can see right through, his friend so clearly anxious over their imminent departure.

“You two be safe out there.”

“And you as well,” Jimin is quick to reply, the discontent in the pack making him equally nervous
to leave.

But they're out of options.

With Jeongguk's help, they shuffle out of the room together, Jimin glancing at its occupants one
last time.

Namjoon maintains his pace by their side as the three of them silently make their way down to the
ground floor, the communal areas of the lodge completely deserted at this hour, the silence almost
deafening.

Jeongguk turns to him once they reach a less traveled exit that leads out into the courtyard, fussing
with Jimin's cloak, bringing the fur closer together, hands reaching back to draw up the hood in an
effort to help shield him from the elements.
“Ready?”

“Ready,” Jimin repeats, his voice somewhat recognizable to his ears the more he uses it.

It’s a struggle to get the doors open, the two alphas battling against the wind in the effort to not
have the wood smash and splinter against the stone. The draft brings with it a flurry of falling
snow, allowing it entry to decorate the cobbled floor at Jimin's feet, evoking a shiver. Gratefully,
he holds onto his mate when he comes back and wraps an arm around his waist, sinking into
Jeongguk's heat while he carefully leads him into the tempestuous storm.

Jimin keeps his head down, trying to protect his exposed skin from the whipping gale, allowing
Jeongguk and Namjoon to blindly lead his descent from the slippery stone steps, only able to make
out a stallion as dark as night when it's right in front of him—the same one Jeongguk rode during
the bison hunt—laden down as much as possible with supply-filled saddlebags, the reins held
safely in Taehyung’s grip, Yoongi and Seokjin flanking him as if they’ve all come to see the two of
them off.

Taehyung passes the reins to Seokjin and moves in close to Jeongguk, the alpha leaning down to
lend his ear, the temperamental weather making it difficult to pick out words through the howling
of the wind. Jimin watches as he points to various compartments in the leather bags, likely listing
off where everything is located, what provisions he’s provided, and waiting for Jeongguk to nod in
understanding, squeezing his arm in a show of affection when he does before moving closer to
Jimin.

His eyes sting as he’s enveloped in a warm embrace, and though he can barely make out the
bergamot and citrus of his scent, the familiarity of it is almost ingrained in him, and the comfort it
brings goes beyond the physical.

“You’re gonna be okay. Yeah?” Tae asks, pulling back to cup Jimin’s cheeks, the soft brown of his
eyes searching Jimin’s as if he needs him to agree.
“I’ll be okay,” he answers, barely decipherable above the storm, but Taehyung nods all the same,
seemingly bolstered by the reassurance. He scents him, and Jimin’s heart calms with the gesture,
returning it and hoping it soothes the other omega as much as it does him.

“We won’t be long,” he tries to comfort, looking up towards the falling snow and hoping it to be
true.

With reluctance, Taehyung squeezes his glove-covered hands and steps aside, practically
burrowing under Yoongi’s arm in a development that Jimin wishes he could ask about, hating the
feeling that twists in his gut, a voice whispering about how absent he’s been, how much he’s
missed—

Seokjin moves in to hand Jeongguk the reins, an emotional look passing from the older to the
younger as they quietly deliver their goodbyes, the mood somber, and Jimin wishes they would all
stop acting like they’re never going to see each other again, but the thought flies away as soon as
Namjoon turns to him, the alpha’s gaze just as pensive. Just as morose, and Jimin feels his
emotions take a dive.

It’s Namjoon’s responsibility to keep Jimin safe. To always remain by his side and protect him, so
this farewell must be beyond difficult, showcasing the amount of trust he’s placing in Jeongguk to
look out for his charge’s wellbeing in his stead. Jimin doesn’t say anything, but he does open his
arms up, gratefully accepting Namjoon when he allows himself to be pulled in, the alpha appearing
to have a lump in his throat, his words stuck as the faint scent of cypress fills Jimin’s senses and
vanquishes his trepidation.

Cupping the back of Namjoon’s head, Jimin hums with affection tinged with sadness.

“Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” he gently commands in a hoarse voice, grinning when he
hears the alpha chuckle.

“That supposed to be my line. I know how much trouble you get into.”
Jimin’s smile both widens and falters at once, a strange, inexplicable melancholy taking hold as he
tries to keep his voice from wavering.

“Still.”

“We’ll be fine. And I know I’m leaving you in capable hands.”

Jimin nods at that, trying to hide his sniffle with a well-placed cough once they both release each
other.

When Namjoon glances up at Jeongguk, the two share a look, their own form of silent
communication as they seem to solidify their fortitude in this endeavor, ending with their hands
encircling each other’s wrists in a more heartfelt manner than a handshake.

Once they release each other, Jeongguk turns to him, expression soft, and leans in close to whisper
in his ear, the heat of his words tickling the lobe. “You’ll take the saddle behind me so that I can
block most of the wind, alright sweetheart?”

Jimin nods easily enough, too exhausted to be stubborn or argue that he requires no special
treatment. It would seem even he knows when to accept help after what was done to him.

Together they approach the dark stallion, and Jimin nods again when Jeongguk’s hands go to his
waist, the alpha lifting him as if he weighs nothing until he’s able to gain the saddle, throwing his
leg over and hating that it causes him to pant, already strained.

In contrast, Jeongguk pulls himself up easily and gracefully, reaching back for Jimin’s arms and
wrapping them around his own waist before he even has a chance to do so, and the gesture makes
him smile, grip tightening as best as he can, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek into the midnight
fur of Jeongguk’s cloak.
It’s then that he notices the two other mares tied off to the side, both Namjoon and Yoongi gaining
their saddles, Taehyung and Seokjin hanging back.

“Yoongi and I have cleared the east gate. We’ll escort you out through there.”

Jeongguk nods, clicking his tongue and gently urging the Frisian forward, and Jimin finds himself
turning back, watching as both Tae and Jin disappear in the swirling snow.

The ride to the east gate is unnerving, the lanterns lit low, the houses and shops they pass by dark
and still. Jimin feels as if he’s back in a dream, the familiar surroundings fuzzy around the edges,
something not quite right about them as they traverse the empty streets, his uneasiness born from
seeing the area deserted during the late hour, coupled with their secret escape.

True to Namjoon’s word, the east gate is abandoned, and as they get closer, Yoongi slips from his
saddle, entering the guard tower and climbing the stairs to the wall. When the gates begin to open,
Jimin feels his breath catch in his throat as he chances a look over Jeongguk’s thick shoulders.

It appears almost ominous out there in the great maw of the dark, his eyes doing their best to adjust,
though they never do, unable to penetrate through the abyss that awaits them just past the trees.
Jimin can't shake the feeling that Soksagim is dangerous, its heavy treeline hiding threats, those
same stories and tales of monsters he detested leaving their mark on him all the same. It must stem
from the humanity in him, because his wolf; as quiet as it has been since his attempted murder,
remains unbothered, with a slight hint of excitement at the prospect of returning to nature.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Jeongguk swears to Namjoon, the other alpha glancing up at
the sky in obvious worry.

“If this worsens don’t weather it. You’ll be safer if you seek shelter.”
Jeongguk nods, the hood falling away from his face slightly as he turns to address Jimin.

“I’ve got you, love,” he promises, one gloved hand squeezing his interlocked arms. “Sleep if you
can.”

Jimin nods against his back, gripping more tightly onto his tapered waist, Jeongguk waiting for
him to settle before he once again urges the horse forward.

“See you soon,” he says to the other alpha, and with that moves the stallion to a trot that quickly
escalates into a gallop, expertly navigating the terrain even in the current conditions.

Jimin can’t help but remain tense as they skirt Lake Geoul, his eyes captured by the old boat house
he offered up to the alpha group from the north, candlelight seeming to flicker in one of the upper
windows even at this hour, and through the snow he swears he can see a silhouette—

Only he blinks and it’s gone, swallowed up by the incoming blizzard.

They ride beyond the field of cut down stumps, caught in the shadow of Hogok mountain, and as
the wind whips around them Jimin is grateful to his mate for providing his body as a shield, hoping
that he in turn is able to offer up what warmth of his own that he can. He holds his breath until they
break the treeline of Soksagim forest, and even then he buries his face in Jeongguk’s back between
his shoulder blades, eyes squeezed shut while he tries to chase away his building anxiousness at
being back in the woods, remembering what occurred here the last time.

But unlike last time, Jeongguk is with him, and Jimin knows he’s safe with the alpha around.

The path is difficult, even with his mate's quick reaction time and expert maneuvering of the horse,
but Jimin makes a concentrated effort to force himself to relax, the cold long since seeped into his
bones, limbs aching with the biting chill. Even so his lethargy overpowers that of his discomfort,
eyes heavy, while the repetitive motions of the stallion turn oddly soothing, though not more so
than the steady inhalations that Jeongguk takes as he guides the horse around every obstacle, as if
the forest is an extension of himself, the scent of rosemary and cloves filling Jimin with
contentedness.

He gives himself over to his exhaustion, though deep sleep eludes him, and oftentimes he finds
himself jerking awake when the Frisian vaults over a fallen tree, or the sharp sound of a branch
cracking catches him by surprise. It’s fitful, uncomfortable even, as the temperature continues to
plummet, the cold almost unbearable.

But each time he simply buries himself deeper into Jeongguk’s back and closes his eyes, breathing
him in until he’s once again claimed by a fitful sleep.

Jimin doesn’t wake again until the steed comes to a complete stop, groggy when he blinks his eyes
open to take in their surroundings. It’s pitch black around them, but Jimin can tell they’re in more
of an open area, the branches of the trees no longer creating a natural canopy above them, the
absence of such further exposing them to the elements.

“Are you awake, sweetheart?”

Jimin hums an affirmative, the alpha’s hand gently gripping his arm.

“Hang on. I’ll help you down.”

With that he dismounts gracefully, turning back to reach up for Jimin’s waist as he pulls him off of
the horse, the soreness of his muscles easily ignorable when his body slides against the alpha’s,
breath catching as his boots crunch into the snow below, caught in the other’s gaze. The moment
extends as the two take each other in, and It isn’t until Jimin shivers—from more than just the cold
—that Jeongguk seems to shake himself out of his trance, their gloved fingers interlacing.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of this weather.”

He moves gratefully into Jeongguk’s side when he’s pulled in, and even though it’s still dark the
alpha navigates their surroundings easily, Jimin’s vision adjusting to take in what looks to be a
cabin that he wishes he could see in the light of day, the alpha finding the entrance with ease and
ushering him inside.

The air smells slightly stale, but beneath that, Jeongguk's unmistakable scent, and something else
lingers.

Gently, he’s lowered down onto a cushioned chair not far from an impressive stone hearth, and
Jimin watches as Jeongguk works quickly to pile the wood that’s been stacked neatly next to the
fireplace, striking a tinderbox that had rested on the mantle, stoking the flames until they fan high.

“Get warm, sweetheart,” Jeongguk whispers encouragingly when he returns to him, placing a
gentle kiss atop his hair. “I’m going to retrieve our things and get the horse out of the storm.”

“You’re sure you don’t need help.”

The alpha raises a brow at him, though his expression remains fond.

“I’m sure. Shouldn’t take but a minute.”

“I’m timing you.”

Jeongguk’s chuckle follows him out, swallowed up by the hitching breeze as he pulls the door shut
behind him. Jimin uses the opportunity to look around, taking in what he can of the cozy space, the
realization that he’s currently sitting in Jeongguk’s home belatedly hitting him, until he's filled
with the desire to rise and look around, commit everything to memory—
But he won't do so while the alpha is gone, ultimately deciding it's best to remain where he is by
the fire in an attempt to get warm, any discoveries he makes will have to be done so visually. From
what he can see of it, the cabin appears spacious. Neat, yet lived in, and everything looks to be
coated in a fine layer of dust, no doubt a result of Jeongguk’s forced absence.

There's woven rugs to add color to the worn wood floors, art pieces on the walls that are too much
in shadow to make out, and impressively made furniture that even Jimin can't help but admire the
craftsmanship of.

True to his word, the alpha doesn’t take too long, the door to the cabin knocking loudly against the
wall as he comes back inside, the storm escalating just behind him, Jimin’s eyes unable to pick up
anything beyond his form but snow. The draft that enters is brutal, chasing away the bit of warmth
that managed to accumulate when Jeongguk strides inside, arms filled with their supplies before he
transfers them onto a nearby table. Turning back, he struggles with the thick, carved wood of the
door, the wind shrieking, and finally manages to force it closed, locking it in place with a plank
that slides easily into the fitted slots that decorate the frame. With a weighted breath, he shifts to
lean heavily against the surface, and when his eyes catch Jimin’s stare, a sweet smile curls the
corners of his lips.

“I wish I could've brought you here under different circumstances, but welcome to my home.”

"Me too, love. From what I can see of it, it's lovely."

"I'll give you a tour later."

Jimin directs a small smile his way at the promise, tracking his movements when he enters the
kitchenette off to the side of the hearth, the chill stubbornly refusing to leave, clinging to him like a
second skin. He uses Jeongguk as a distraction from the cold, watching while his mate takes the
same tinderbox he’d used earlier and uses it to light the candles that dot the room, creating a soft,
mellow glow which illuminates the space.

It’s bigger than Jimin thought it would be, with four closed doors, two each lining the far walls and
an open living area that has shuttered windows. He takes in the signs of a life lived. The axe
leaning near the door, a bow and scabbard full of arrows hanging from a hook on the wall next to a
more weathered fur cloak than the one Jimin gifted to Jeongguk. There’s other things too. Pretty
needlework framed above the hearth, the dark threads depicting a black wolf that has a lump
forming in the back of Jimin’s throat, while various plants dangle from pots that hang from the
ceiling, their scents familiar, but not strong enough to override that of rosemary and cloves, and
beneath that something faint. Barely there, but fragrant—

He’s shaken from his musings by the sound of drawers opening and closing in quick succession,
and Jimin turns back, taking in the way the alpha searches what appears to be a handmade
apothecary cabinet. A frown marrs his brow as he rumages through its contents, expression steadily
falling into despair until he opens one of the few remaining drawers left and pulls a dried bushel of
herbs free.

“I have it,” he declares, turning back towards Jimin with a look of such startling relief that it takes
his breath away. “Echinacea.”

Jimin stares at it, surprised at how unremarkable the plant appears, and yet it can somehow help
combat the ill effects of the meadow saffron he ingested. Maybe even help bring back his senses,
and take away the heavy ache and exhaustion he’s been overcome with as a result of the
poisoning.

But it’s easy to smile, because Jeongguk’s exhilaration is infectious, the alpha moving back
towards the cupboards.

“Just a little longer, pup,” he murmurs, more to himself than to Jimin as he digs through other
cabinets and drawers, setting about brewing the herbs into a tea for him to drink.

Just as he said, it doesn’t take long at all, and in no time Jeongguk stands before him once more,
another steaming mug in his still-gloved hands, cheeks flushed, his breathing uneven, and Jimin
feels a strong sense of deja vu at the sight. Especially when the alpha helps him to drink it again,
careful when he presses the smooth mug against Jimin's parted lips, slowly tipping the contents
into his waiting mouth.
He swallows every last drop, taking short breaks in between each drink, allowing the heated liquid
of it to settle in his stomach and chase away the chill. The fingers on Jeongguk’s left hand speckle
across his neck, massaging his throat in a way that provides relief and ignites a fire in Jimin all at
once, the intimate area of his scent gland caressed with the lightest of touches, and his only regret
is that his hand isn't bare. That he cannot feel the skin beneath the leather of his glove.

Jimin watches as the alpha’s gaze slides down to the same spot, up to his lips, then his eyes, a pink
tongue peeking out to trace over his own red lips, chapped from the cold, quiet in his fixation, until
he seemingly regains his senses with a sharp physical shake of his head.

“Give it some time, and don’t be discouraged. You should notice a difference soon enough.”

Jimin’s hand comes up, fingers encircling Jeongguk’s wrist before he can turn away with the now-
empty mug, and he greatly hopes his expression can convey the gratitude and love that he feels,
and if not, he prays that his words do.

“Everything you’ve done for me…your efforts to take care of my well-being, to keep me here with
you, along with the others I love, I’m truly in awe,” he whispers, throat tightening when Jeongguk
takes in a loud shuddering breath. “I wish you could feel half of what you’ve made me feel, that I
possessed the adequate words to give it justice. But instead I plan to spend the rest of my life
returning the sentiment, devoting myself to the pursuit of bringing you as much sweetness, care
and love as you’ve given me.”

The alpha shakes his head again, softer this time, setting the mug down on the hand-crafted
wooden table before taking Jimin’s hands in his own.

“You already do, sweetheart. Every minute of every day. And I can feel it. Right here,” he lifts
Jimin’s flattened palm up until it’s just shy of his rabbiting pulse, “next to my own heart.”

Jimin’s breath hitches at the declaration, unsure why there are tears brimming in his eyes,
Jeongguk’s thumb swiping beneath his lids to wipe them away once they fall, his tenderness only
bringing forth more tears that the alpha kisses away.
“Come on, love. It’s been a long journey and the storm is too fierce to ride through. We’ll rest
while we can and wait it out.”

Jimin nods, eagerly accepting his mate’s help as he’s carefully pulled to his feet, led to one of the
closed doors along the back wall. When it’s opened, Jimin is hit with an even stronger dose of
rosemary and cloves that seems to blanket it.

“This is your room?”

“It is,” the alpha reveals, lowering him into an armchair while he moves towards his bed, shaking
out the furs and cushions of any potential dust, Jimin taking the opportunity to look around again,
to appreciate this insight into Jeongguk’s life before him.

There’s a stack of what looks to be crudely made books piled high on a wooden chest, their
bindings stitched, the page edges coated in wax, neatly handwritten ink decorating the covers.
Looking up, he spies several sketches adorning the walls, the talent and attention to detail
impressing Jimin as he gazes at various types of drawn fauna and flora, forest scenes that he can’t
help but get lost in.

“You draw?”

There's still so much they don't know about each other. So much they need to learn. And yet the
opportunity to do so was almost taken from them too soon.

Jeongguk glances up from his task, his eyes moving to each piece that adorns the walls.

“Occasionally. My mother taught me. She was the real talent.”

Was.

It’s then that Jimin realizes.

They’re the only ones here, which means Jeongguk’s mother is—

He did say he had no family to return to.

“I’m sorry,” he laments with sincerity, heart breaking when a cloud of sadness hangs over
Jeongguk, much like the storm that continues to rage outside, but it’s gone just as quickly.

“It was a long time ago.”

Jimin nods, knowing that this is a topic for another time, preferably when they’re both not bone
weary from a nearly three hour journey in the middle of the night.

The alpha gathers him in his arms once more, carrying him to his bed where he removes their
cloaks, gloves, boots and any uncomfortable layers, throwing the heavy fur over the thick blanket
that already adorns the mattress in a bid for added warmth. It’s more than cozy, Jimin feeling the
heaviness in his lids growing as he settles, Jeongguk climbing in after him, pulling his thin body
into his thicker one, the heat that spills off of him in droves lulling Jimin even further, and he
nuzzles into his chest, almost drunk off of his scent, his presence, his love, as he murmurs
reassuring words and praise into the silvery-white strands of his hair, Jimin sinking into sleep with
the deep rumble of his voice following him down.

________________
Jimin wakes slowly to the sound of a wolf howl echoing all around him, unending, and it brings
with it memories of the night that predated him meeting Jeongguk, when a howl resonated in the
rafters of his room as he stared out the window overlooking Soksagim Forest. The more he chases
away his disorientation, the more he realizes that the sound is not born from a wolf at all, but from
the wind. The storm.

He tries to shift, momentarily confused where he is until an arm tightens around his midsection,
Jeongguk humming behind him, Jimin’s body relaxing as a result of the closeness with his alpha as
he takes in the other's room once more, trying to imagine what he must look like living in this
space. If he moves easily, without the subtle tension that Jimin still recognizes in him when he’s in
the Great Lodge.

There’s more shifting behind him, fingers burying in the long loose strands of his hair, blunt
fingernails scratching ever-so-slightly along his scalp until he mewls at the sensation it elicits,
lashes fluttering, a rumbling starting up in his chest that resembles a purr-like sound. Then lips at
his ear, catching on the lobe and making him shiver when Jeongguk’s rough voice whispers to
him.

“How do you feel?”

Like I'm igniting, Jimin wants to answer, a fire in him catching quick as it’s oft to do when the
alpha is involved, thighs squeezing together once that familiar ache makes itself known.

Jeongguk’s fingers tighten on his abdomen, a sharp inhale recognizable as Jimin’s scent thickens
with arousal, his response permeating the room, the rosemary thickening in response, and Jimin
feels intoxicated with it.

“I’m um—I…”

He stutters, suddenly unsure how to answer, the only clear thought in his mind is that his body
longs to get closer to that heat Jeongguk gives off, to bury his face in his neck and inhale deeply—
“Jimin? Are you alright sweetheart?”

“Yes. I—yes.”

Forcing himself to try and take stock of his physical condition, he offers a more articulate answer.

“I think my senses are returning.”

Is that why all he can smell is rosemary and cloves? Is that why he can practically taste it on the
back of his tongue?

The bed dips as Jeongguk rises up on his hands, hovering above him in a way that makes Jimin feel
caged, though not trapped.

Safe.

A hand lovingly sweeps away the hair out of his face, and Jimin has trouble swallowing when his
eyes meet Jeongguk’s, swearing he can see red bleeding into the midnight black of his irises, but
when he blinks he can’t be sure.

“You’re flushed, love. You sure you’re feeling okay.”

“I—I’m fine,” he stutters, gaze falling to the alpha’s lips, breath hitching when Jeongguk’s thumb
traces the seam of his own.
He’s doing this on purpose, has to be. Setting Jimin’s blood to boil and delighting in the results, his
stare intense as always. But with a look of regret the alpha sighs and begins to climb off the bed.

“You need to eat something,” he murmurs in explanation, helping Jimin to his own feet before he
can even think of protesting, wanting to whine when the heat in his stomach is extinguished.

The main living area of the cabin is still dim, but brighter than it was the previous night, even with
the shuttered windows, a bit of gray sunlight just managing to seep through. After being carefully
lowered down into the same chair as he was when they first arrived, Jimin looks around once
more, noticing that which eluded his attention. Taking his time, he observes the artwork that hangs
from the walls, nearly the same style as the ones that decorated Jeongguk's room, also depicting
nature with subtle differences in technique.

These must be the works of Jeongguk's mother.

While the alpha sets about relighting the candles and building up a fire, Jimin sits down at the
table, eyes continuing to wander, landing on the woven basket resting near the hearth atop a fur
rug, filled with knitting needles and dyed yarn. They then slide over to the kitchenette, where the
jars that line the upper cabinets appear to be filled with salves, plants, and oils, the sounds of
Jeongguk digging through the supplies Taehyung prepared for them in his search for food reaching
his ears.

Every space appears to be utilized, though not cluttered, and the way Jeongguk exudes a familiarity
in the space has Jimin experiencing a strange form of fondness tinged with self-consciousness that
he wishes weren’t there at all.

What if he prefers it here? What if he’s happier here?

It’s an ugly thought, and one Jimin refuses to entertain a second longer, as the alpha has already
assured him that wherever he goes, he'll follow.
He’s torn from his musings when Jeongguk places a plate of food before him, Jimin’s stomach
growling at the sight when another steaming mug is set next to it.

“More tea?” he smiles, cupping his cheek in the palm of his hand when the other nods.

“Chamomile and honey. Your voice is getting better, but this will help your throat.”

Jimin nods, wrapping his palms around the mug, sighing once he inhales the soothing scent.

“This place,” he starts tentatively after chewing a small piece of bread. “You and your mother built
it?”

Jeongguk looks around with a sweet smile and nods, eyes alight as they relive past memories only
he can see.

“She was the brains behind everything. Drew up the plans, did the majority of the work while I
was still growing. Taught me everything I know. How to build, how to hunt. How to survive…”

His voice trails off, and Jimin knows he doesn’t imagine the melancholy that tinges his tone.

“Did you stay somewhere until this was finished?” he asks, looking around himself. “Winters here
are unmerciful.”

“Behind us is an outcropping of rocks that shields the cabin from view. It’s why it was so difficult
for your men to find. The rock houses a system of caves that hold natural hot springs. Quite humid
in the summer, but during the winter, it was essentially what kept us alive and served as our home
till this was finished.”
Jimin hums in awe, more than impressed with his mother’s resilience.

“She sounds amazing.”

“I wish I was even half the wolf she was,” Jeongguk admits with a grin, shaking his head before his
gaze lands on Jimin once more. “Having her as a role model has always felt like a lot to live up to.
It’s why I never understood how you could ever question your own strength and capabilities just
because you’re an omega. My mother was too, and every day her strength and resilience amazed
me. Just like you do.”

A stinging pain erupts behind Jimin's eyes, tears attempting to fall even though he stubbornly
pushes them back, trying to direct a loving smile the alpha’s way and hoping it doesn’t warble too
terribly.

“May I ask—you don’t have to answer, but I was wondering…”

“What happened to her?” Jeongguk easily surmises, and Jimin nods, nervous while he waits.

“She sustained a grave injury while hunting. I—I couldn’t—”

Immediately he regrets voicing the question, wanting nothing more than to go to the alpha and help
comfort him, but Jeongguk reigns in his emotions relatively quickly, shaking his head before he
repeats, “It was a long time ago.”

But Jimin knows better than most that there are some wounds that time does not heal.
It's inadvisable to press, but there's this incurable curiosity that lingers, refusing to dissipate and
inevitably gets the better of him.

"What—what was she like?"

Jeongguk doesn't show any signs of reluctance or discomfort when he goes to answer, and Jimin
releases the breath he'd been holding as relief washes over him.

"I knew her as reserved. Quiet. But she was strong, insistent yet patient. She could be hard to
please when it came to learning the skills she wanted to teach me. But she was also very generous
with her praise when I got it right," he smiles. "After she died I found a journal hidden with her
belongings. It belonged to my father, and the way he spoke of her, giddy and carefree, always
laughing and in possession of a radiance that could rival the sun...I didn't recognize the woman he
wrote of so smittenly. When he died she became a different person, her light diminished. I don't
think she was ever the same."

It's quiet after that revelation, Jeongguk staring at the tabletop while Jimin stares at him.

"I wish I could've met her," he whispers softly, stomach fluttering when those bright eyes meet his.

"Me too. She would've loved you."

"Yeah?" Jimin asks with an unstable smile, Jeongguk's features reflecting so much affection it
steals his breath away.

"Yeah."

Jimin sighs, eyeing his plate of forgotten food as he deliberates with himself. He doesn’t like
talking about what befell his own mother, but he wants no more secrets between them. No more
half-truths. Jeongguk told him without hesitation when Jimin asked, and he will return that trust.

“I lost my own mother when I was ten summers,” he starts off weakly, voice almost quivering. “I
was her first child, and in the beginning she seemed happy. At least, my earliest memories of her
are happy ones. But when my father challenged Chulseok and became head alpha, she wanted to
have more pups.”

He keeps his eyes on the surface of the table, though in his peripheral he can see the way Jeongguk
shifts, uncomfortable, as if he knows where this is going.

“But everytime she tried, her pregnancy ended prematurely. The healers told her she needed to
stop, that she couldn’t survive another, but she didn’t listen. She was obsessed, and I realized it was
because she was trying to give my father an heir. An alpha heir.”

A small, distressed sound reaches Jimin’s ears, but he still can’t bring himself to look at Jeongguk
as he reveals the truth of her fate.

“Finally my brother was born, and for a while she was happy again. But she developed an
infection, one that the healers couldn’t combat, and it killed her. My brother followed soon after.”

Jimin neither hears nor sees Jeongguk move, his ears ringing, vision overtaken by tears he can no
longer hold at bay—the loss feeling fresh even after all this time—when suddenly two warm palms
cup his cheeks, the pads of calloused thumbs wiping gently beneath his eyes. But still he keeps
going, the words spilling from his mouth like the dark, viscous poison he remembers from the
dreams that visited him while he was on death's door, haunted by their imagery.

“For so long I’ve harbored this anger towards her for doing it, and towards my father for letting
her. They tried to claim that they would change things, that the status of our subgender would no
longer define us as individuals, nor within the pack, and yet she destroyed herself in her pursuit to
provide an alpha because I—a mere omega—wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough—”
“Shhhh,” Jeongguk murmurs, cutting off the barraging stream of inadequacies that Jimin can’t help
but repeat like a mantra, his long-buried insecurities resurfacing, and he hates it. Hates himself.
Hates that it still affects him so, that it has played any part in defining him and how he feels about
alphas, omegas, and himself.

“You’re more than good enough, Jimin,” Jeongguk swears, a fathomless intensity to his gaze that
speaks to his desperation to convince him of it. “I’ve seen your strength and your kindness. How
fair you are and the way you love. You’re worth more than an entire pack of wolves, sweetheart,
good enough isn’t even a question. You’re beyond exceptional.”

Jimin gives a happy laugh, wet, and overtaken with emotion, cupping the alpha’s cheeks in turn
and bringing their foreheads together, angling his head until his trembling lips meet Jeongguk’s
soft warm ones, their kiss the epitome of gentleness, and a declaration all on its own.

“If you could see you the way I see you,” the alpha swears between chaste pecks that deepen over
time, “you would never have cause to doubt yourself again.”

“How did I get so lucky, hmm?” he wonders in a barely there whisper, Jeongguk’s parted lips
swallowing down his words, while Jimin's trembling fingers card through the dark strands of his
hair, the curls wrapping around his wrists as if they were enamored serpents refusing to release
him. “To find a mate capable of such sweetness—”

Jeongguk hums, a smile curling his pretty, pink bow-shaped lips.

“of such love—”

His lashes flutter, cheeks flushing.

“Bravery. Generosity. Empathy—”

“Stop it now. My face is burning, and I’m supposed to be making you feel better.”

“Praising you always makes me feel better.”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely pleased, and it has warmth simmering deep in Jimin’s belly, chasing
away the cold that’s been with him for far too long.

A kiss is placed upon the apples of his cheeks, and Jimin stares back at the alpha with a full heart,
the emotion welling up inside him comparable to a dam fit to burst, when the alpha voices a
sudden proposition.

“How does a warm bath sound?”

A rumbling noise echoes in the back of Jimin’s throat, and for the first time since waking up after
his ordeal, it doesn’t bring him pain.

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” Jeongguk chuckles, elaborating at Jimin’s expression of confusion. “Remember
those hot springs I mentioned?”

His mouth falls, momentarily speechless before he allows his excitement to show.

“That sounds like a dream.”

“The cave is just behind the cabin, but we still have to brave the snow to get to it,” he warns, and
Jimin rushes to reassure him.

“I can do that. I can definitely do that.”

Jeongguk leans forward with a grin, placing another kiss to his temple as he exhales a soft, “I know
you can, sweetheart,” before returning to his original position. “I’ll go out first, check the state of
things and make sure the horse is fed and comfortable, and then we’ll go.”

Jimin nods, beyond thrilled with the idea of soaking in heated water, already feeling a phantom
relaxation in his limbs at the very thought of it.

"Before we do, may I freshen up a bit?"

The alpha smiles, clearly endeared.

"Of course, love. And I still owe you a tour."

As impressive as the cabin is, there really isn't much to see. There's the main living space which
Jimin has already become familiar with, Jeongguk's room, his mother's old room that the alpha
points out but doesn't intrude upon, a storage space, and a smaller room with a basin and tub.

He lingers in this doorway as he watches Jeongguk don his layers, gloves, and fur cloak before
grabbing his tinderbox and quickly slipping out the door into the raging winds, the sound of which
would be more fitting to a monster than that of nature. Once he's gone, Jimin takes the time to try
and feel a little bit more human by cleaning up, washing his face, using the tooth powder from
their pile of supplies, and then running nervous fingers through his hair before lowering them to
tug on the hem of his tunic, twisting his fingers while he waits and wondering if he should wash
his mouth out again to pass the time. He was never one for patience, everyone who knows him can
attest to that, but he forces himself to sit and wait for Jeongguk’s return, taking stock of his
physical health while he does so.

Since drinking the herbal tea the alpha prepared for him when they first arrived, Jimin has noticed
subtle—but promising—changes. The constant, thrumming ache in his limbs and belly is all but
gone. His eyes no longer burn with prolonged use, and his sense of smell and taste is fast returning,
the lingering effects of the poison seeming to finally leave him, which feels almost too good to be
true.

Though the weariness lingers, and he hopes that when this is all over, maybe he'll finally be able to
rest, and allow his body to fully recover.

Jeongguk is gone for at least ten minutes, and when he finally returns the black fur of his cloak is
dusted in heavy snow, but his lips curl with a soft smile.

“Shall we?”

Jimin nods and eagerly gains his feet.

After helping him into his own fur cloak and gloves, the two exit the wood cabin together,
Jeongguk keeping Jimin close to his side to help block the brutal breeze, an arm shielding Jimin’s
eyes as he tries to take in their surroundings, the rock outcropping coming into view the closer they
get, a dark, gaping cut in the stone revealing the cave entrance.

Torches line the walls on either side, already lit and illuminating the path as they shuffle deeper in,
Jeongguk taking his hand when the cave walls narrow before opening up into a large cavern with
more lit torches and a fire near the center, a slight opening in the rock overhead that allows the
smoke to escape. Even with the fire so far away, the air still feels warm, and Jimin’s eyes take in
the curling steam that rises off of at least three separate pools of hot springs, bringing a humidity to
the air that clears his sinuses.
Just to the right of the fire rests a pallet of furs, a crudely made wooden chest, and a pile of wood
that has been neatly stacked. There’s several other little touches that Jimin takes note of that speaks
to the way this place was once used as a home before the cabin’s completion. Sewn cushions,
melted candles and piles of blankets and furs.

“This place is amazing,” he whispers, eyeing the vast overhead ceiling before falling to the crystal
blue of the water.

“It is. My mother called it our saving grace. We surely would’ve been claimed by the elements had
she not stumbled upon it.”

Jimin doesn’t want to think about what could’ve been, gratitude filling his heart that everything
worked out the way it did, that the fates saw fit to bring the two of them together. Unbeknownst to
his thoughts, Jeongguk leads him to the edge of the largest hot spring, reluctantly dropping his
hand in order to approach the wooden chest where he pulls out a pile of linen, and a few makeshift
jars with the faint scent of jasmine and lavender. Carefully, he sets everything down near where the
water meets stone before turning back to face Jimin with a mix of anticipation and unsurity,
confusing him as to why until he voices his offer.

“I can turn around while you—if you want.”

As soon as understanding dawns, Jimin’s lips curve up into a sultry smile, blood simmering
beneath his skin.

“You’ve seen all of me before.”

Jeongguk’s lips part, those wide eyes bright, pupils dilating when Jimin poses his next question.

“Unless you don’t want to look at me anymore, alpha?”

A deep rumbling growl reaches his ears at the question, a red cloud bleeding into the dark abyss of
that gaze as he pointedly approaches, the toes of his leather riding boots brushing against Jimin’s
own.

“An impossibility, pup. I always wish to look at you. See you.”

Pulling the strands of his hair away until they fall down his back, Jimin purposefully bares his neck
to his gaze and stares up at him beneath long lashes.

“Then look, my love. See me.”

It’s an invitation, and one Jeongguk gladly accepts, that fixated stare never once leaving him when
his hands come up, dexterous fingers undoing the tie of his cloak until it’s eased off of his
shoulders to fall into a heap on the cave floor below. He then goes to work on his tunic with the
same narrowed focus, Jimin obediently lifting his arms once he slowly pulls it up and over his
head. By the time he divests him of everything else but his trousers the two of them are breathing
heavily, a new tremor to Jeongguk’s once sure hands.

“Go on,” Jimin whispers, the sound of water lapping at rock making him feel oddly relaxed, the
heat in the air dusting his skin. “I want you to.”

The alpha no longer hesitates after that, and Jimin keeps his gaze as he’s made fully bare, stepping
out of the fabric that pools at his feet, standing before Jeongguk unflinchingly, though he can’t help
but feel the smallest hint of self-consciousness that is due to the changes his body went through
after his poisoning—

“You’re beautiful,” Jeongguk assures brusquely, as if sensing the turn in Jimin’s thoughts. “I’ve
never seen anyone or anything as stunning as you.”
The flush that spreads across his skin is inevitable over such compliments, but he dares not look
away, captivated by the alpha’s stare as his own hands rise to the clasp of Jeongguk’s cloak.

“I want to undress you,” he declares, cataloging the sharp intake of breath from the other, the way
his pupils dilate further until they’re in danger of swallowing the whites of his eyes.

With a small incline of his head, Jeongguk pointedly lifts his chin and motions for him to continue.
A kind of giddiness overtakes Jimin at the permission, and he eagerly moves to bare his mate to his
gaze.

Jeongguk crosses his arms over his torso after Jimin pulls the hem of the tunic out from his
waistband of his trousers and loosens the laces, captivated when he lifts it up and over his head to
fall down to the smooth rock below, joining their other garments. The omega moves in deliberately
close then, fingers tracing along the skin of his waist, sinking past his breeches only slightly before
undoing those laces as well, gripping into his hips just before he guides the material down and
away.

Once they’re both nude, Jimin fights the urge to step back and admire the alpha in all of his glory,
and instead gives into his other temptation of moving in closer, once again reaching out to run the
tips of his fingers down the front of his abdomen, tracing the indented lines of the defined muscles
there, openly salivating at what he sees.

“Help me into the water?”

His voice is huskier than normal, taking on the rasp he’s only recently been rid of that was a
residual effect of the poison—though its reappearance has more to do with the state of his desire
than his health.

However, Jeongguk standing naked before him may very well be the death of him.
Jimin hears him hum in acquiescence, turning slightly away in order to eye the steaming pool,
judging his movements carefully as he lowers himself into the water before holding a hand out for
him to take. Their fingers interlace when Jimin accepts it, feeling the strength in that arm as
Jeongguk carefully guides him into the hot spring, the water heavenly when Jimin sinks in deeper,
foot catching on a smooth lip of rock that creates a natural bench just below the surface for the two
of them to rest on.

A sigh escapes Jimin as he sits on the stone’s surface, the heated water coming up just past his
midsection while the thickness of Jeongguk’s thigh slides against his own, bringing about a
breathiness that has nothing to do with the sudden shift in temperature.

“You alright sweetheart?”

Glancing back up, his eyes meet the alpha’s, a vast abyss that Jimin would contentedly become
lost in, and suddenly, he’s filled with overflowing love and an undeniable urge he cannot ignore.
Carefully balancing as he rises up to his knees, Jimin moves until he’s able to throw a leg over both
of Jeongguk’s, straddling his lap and shifting until he’s comfortable, cradled against his pelvis.

The alpha stares up at him as if he’s been witness to a miracle, the act of which fills the omega
with a confidence he didn’t even know he was in possession of.

“Jimin? Wha—”

“Help me get my hair wet?”

Jeongguk’s expression morphs into one of confusion, until Jimin wraps his arms around his neck,
burying his fingers in the dark strands of Jeongguk’s own hair as he arches his back dramatically,
the alpha scrambling to hold onto him with wet, slippery palms spread over the center of his spine,
lowering him until he’s able to submerge his white-silvery locks beneath the water’s surface,
releasing another relaxed breath as the comfortable heat engulfs his skin, flushing it further.
Jimin indulges in the sensation before slowly rising, the added weight of his wet hair keeping his
head tilted, neck bare to his gaze, Jeongguk’s grip on his back pulling him up the rest of the way.
With the motion their bodies slide together, the cleft of his backside rubbing against Jeongguk’s
cock, already thick with arousal and somehow hotter than the water they soak in, bringing an
appreciative gasp from the omega's lips, purposefully fidgeting until he can position that searing
length between his cheeks.

Though he wants nothing more than to sink his searching hands down between those thick thighs
until he finds that long, thick cock, Jimin instead reaches towards the pool’s edge, grabbing onto
one of the vials Jeongguk brought, this one smelling of jasmine and honeysuckle. He brings it
around, pressing it against the alpha’s chest, which Jeongguk willingly accepts.

“Help me wash?”

Jimin watches as he nods emphatically, more than pleased when he seems to have difficulty
swallowing, his eyes wide, never once leaving Jimin's, even as he uncorks the receptacle and
empties out a generous amount onto his waiting palm, the floral scent almost as pleasant as Jimin’s
own natural polianthes.

Slowly, as if afraid to cross a line Jimin would never draw, Jeongguk’s hands sink into the long,
soaked strands of the omega’s hair, made darker from the water. The lids of his eyes become heavy
at the alpha’s gentle ministrations, relaxing him even further while he massages his scalp, lathering
the locks into a foam. Jimin lets free a hum that devolves into a moan, fingers gripping into
Jeongguk’s skin, nails scraping along the surface until he feels him shiver beneath him, the thick
rigid line of his arousal full and hard against his ass, bumping over Jimin’s leaking entrance.

It’s obscene.

Intoxicating.

Jimin wants more.

Making sure his hair is thoroughly clean, Jeongguk quickly slips his hands underneath the water to
wash them free of suds before finding their way to the center of Jimin’s back, guiding him to arch
and lean down once more until he can wet his hair again, the omega taking the opportunity to grind
against his mate, grinning as he hears a small, cutoff groan that tapers into a growl.

As he’s pulled back into an upright position—perhaps harsher than either of them intended—Jimin
finds himself barely an inch away from the alpha’s mouth, the two breathing raggedly, swallowing
heated breaths, Jimin’s damp hair sticking to skin, creating a world of their own as it forms a
curtain around the two of them.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk whispers, barely recognizable above the cacophony of the cave and hot springs,
though the desperation is discernible all the same.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” he confesses, and just by the way Jeongguk’s pupils dilate, he
knows what it is he speaks of, but still he continues, no more able to rein the words in than he’s
able to control the very desire that gives them life. “Not for our mating ceremony, not for the pack.
Not for anything. I want you to mate me, Jeongguk. I want your mark on my neck. Wanna feel you
inside me.”

The wet palm of his hand slides over the center of Jeongguk’s chest, able to feel the rapid beating
of his heart, more akin to a wild animal desperately trying to break free from the cage of its ribs
that holds it in place.

“Sweetheart, I—we can’t. You’re still recovering—”

“Don’t you see? That’s exactly why we must! We've had to resist for so long, I don’t want to deny
us any longer. Life is already so fleeting, who can say what’ll happen in the next hour, the next
minute, the next second. Tomorrow is not promised to us, love. But we’re here now, you and me,
and I want this. I want you. I love you.”

Jeongguk stares at him reverently, hands coming down and around to grip Jimin’s hips, as if he had
been afraid to touch anywhere other than his back, until now.
“I love you too," he swears, gaze still searching. "You’re sure?”

“It’s you,” Jimin answers with a gentleness to rival his affections. “I’ve never been more sure of
anything in my life.”

It’s the only convincing Jeongguk needs, clearly wanting this as much as Jimin does, the hold he
has on him tightening before traveling across his skin in a delicious slide that leads to the
roundness of his cheeks, both held in an appreciative, possessive grip, fully exposing his hole to
the heat of the water and tearing a gasp from his lips, the alpha’s open mouth swallowing the sound
greedily as he brings them together in a kiss, those fingers slipping tantalizingly close to his
quivering rim.

Jimin moans into the kiss, the act of which resembles a more frenzied behavior of teeth and
tongues, and the omega practically howls when those fingers finally walk across his skin with
purpose and add heavenly pressure against his entrance, nearly sinking inside straight away with
the amount of slick he’s leaking, the water of the hot spring barely able to wash it away before it’s
replaced again.

But something about it must frustrate the alpha, Jeongguk’s growls of displeasure rumbling against
his palm and distressing his wolf, eager to please its mate. But before he can ask what it is he can
do to appease him, a deep, hoarse voice vibrates near his ear and causes his toes to curl.

“Wanna taste you.”

The very declaration nearly has Jimin’s eyes rolling up into his head, and he’s quite disoriented
when he’s pulled from his mate’s lap and the very pool itself, his upper half shivering, bent and
exposed over the rock lip of the cave’s floor that opens to the hot springs, bottom up in the air
while the water comes to the back of his knees to confuse his core temperature between the
tepidness of the weather and the heat of the pool, the tips of his toes barely able to touch the
natural rock bench below the surface as Jeongguk shifts on it, kneeling behind him.

Fingers press into his cheeks again, pulling them apart to once more expose his hole to cool air this
time. Turned away like this, all Jimin can do is look ahead into the darkness, lit only by flickering
flames, pulse jumping over the shaky, indrawn breath behind him. Then heat, blown over the
sensitive nerves along the tight ringed muscle, and then—

Fire.

It burns a stripe from the back of his balls to his leaking hole, more slick escaping him as Jimin
whimpers and whines, that talented appendage becoming taut, the point of which spears into him
unmercilessly as his alpha lets out a sound that would be more at home at a dinner table, the cause
of which a feast, rather than devouring the slick of Jimin’s arousal.

And devour it he does, gripping into Jimin’s ass as if he’s in danger of getting away, the sounds
they both let loose echoing off of the cavern walls, the ones Jimin releases that of pleasurous
rapture, Jeongguk’s, greed and hunger.

Euphoric Delirium. That’s the only way the omega can describe it as that tongue thrusts into him
over and over again, both hating and loving the loud, wet squelching noises that acts as a constant
companion to his actions, enduring that same unhinged want that accompanies his heats until it’s
all he knows, all he can think about, but with Jeongguk it’s almost worse. A neverending pulse or
pressure that just keeps building and building, and yet somehow he knows that even if he were to
find release, it would only be temporary.

Though reoccurring, heats fade and leave eventually. Jeongguk never will.

Jimin falls forward when that tongue wriggles particularly deep, back bowing forward before
lifting into another arch, shoving himself back, rocking forward until he’s able to simulate sex, the
alpha’s hands tightening and going lax before tightening again, as if unsure whether he wants to let
Jimin take control or keep it all to himself.

He chooses a third option, one Jimin is none too thrilled with as he retracts his tongue entirely, the
whine of disappointment transformed into a surprised keen and finally a pitiful mewl as teeth sink
into the meat of his right cheek, no doubt leaving a mark but keeping the skin intact. He’s barely
released his jaw when Jimin feels a finger sink into his spasming entrance, the muscle eagerly
sucking him inside, the omega’s skin burning when he hears Jeongguk whisper, “Eager,
sweetheart?”

Oh yes. Very eager.

Jimin collapses down to the rocky floor as another finger enters him. And then another. And then
the tongue again, back and somehow managing to wiggle its way between those thrusting digits
until he feels full, impossibly so, even though he knows that to be false. That there’s something
bigger he longs to take inside himself, more of his wetness blurting out onto that waiting tongue as
his body readies itself.

As if reading his mind, Jeongguk’s voice vibrates along his skin, eliciting another shiver.

“Need to get you ready, love. Have to stretch you enough to take my knot.”

“Want it,” he desperately begs, cheek squished against the smooth rock floor, ass in the air attached
to Jeongguk’s pumping hand as he plays him like a fine tuned instrument, eyes open but unseeing.

“I know you do, pup. I know. You’ll get it, too. Don’t you worry.”

It’s loud.

Between his moans, Jeongguk’s growls, the water crashing violently against the rocks with the
alpha’s fevered movements, the graphic wet noises from his slick as Jeongguk enters him with both
fingers and tongue and the salacious slurping his mate releases as he goes at his hole like he wishes
to swallow him, Jimin doesn’t know what to focus on that won’t drive him further over the edge.

“Gods, the way you taste,” Jeongguk heaves against the spasming ring, "I could live off of you
alone." The warmth from his breath nearly brings Jimin to tears as he can’t seem to help but arch
back, his body doing everything it can to get him to return to where it wants him most—

But instead the alpha seems to withdraw entirely, removing his tongue, fingers, and even the heat
from his body’s proximity, irrationally scaring Jimin into thinking he’s done something wrong,
until he feels two strong arms wrap around his midsection and lift, pulling and maneuvering him
until he finds himself safely tucked away in his mate’s arms, Jeongguk rising from the pool
completely and striding with purpose towards that pallet of furs near the fire he spied earlier.

As he’s laid down on it with all the care of a breakable treasure, Jimin can’t help but think it’s
softer than it looks upon first glance, and that’s the last coherent thought he experiences when the
smell hits him.

Rosemary and cloves—though slightly faded undoubtedly with the passage of time—it’s more
potent than he ever remembers, except his first memory of the alpha, in this very forest, fresh off
rut. That’s what it smells like. Primal. His alpha in rut.

He feels scent-drunk, unable to help but turn and bury his face into the furs, trying to inhale as
much of it as he can—

But Jeongguk forces him back, a delicate hand framing his jaw as he makes Jimin look at him. His
beautiful face glistens in the firelight, still a mess from Jimin’s slick, damp hair disheveled, eyes
nearly swallowed up by black, the dark mass of it slowly bleeding red, the omega unable to look
away even as his mate leans down to seal their lips together.

Jimin’s breath hitches, a whine born at the back of his throat, swallowed by the alpha as he tastes
himself on his lips, his tongue. Polianthes and petrichor. Searching hands find his nipples, fingers
pinching the sensitive nubs until Jimin devolves into a writhing, whimpering mess, nails scraping
skin, Jeongguk’s mouth following a path down from his lips to his jaw, and further still, where he
spends time lapping at the dips in his clavicle, the sensation surprisingly setting Jimin’s blood to
boil and making him squirm, cock leaking against his belly, a fresh wave of slick making a mess
between his cheeks and inner thighs.

That maddening tongue finally moves on, lowering to his left nipple, where it circles and laps
before those teeth reappear, nipping at the oversensitive flesh. Jimin’s back arches once more in a
futile effort to get closer, to allow Jeongguk’s teeth to sink into him deeper, fingers burying in the
damp, inky-black strands of the alpha's hair, palms cradling the back of his head and holding him
in place for as long as he can.

Reaching up and back, Jeongguk encircles Jimin’s right forearm, bringing it down to his mouth
where he sucks over his wrist, wrenching another sharp gasp from the omega as the sensation feels
as if it has a direct line to his cock, pulse hammering against Jeongguk’s lips as he takes his other
hand and guides it down to the omega's trembling thighs, gripping the flesh and encouraging him
to wrap his legs around the alpha’s narrow waist.

A hiss resonates around them as the thick, wet head of Jeongguk’s cock bumps against his slippery
opening, the rigid length sliding between his cheeks, strong hips pumping against slick-coated
skin, heightening both of their arousals further before those fingers return, slipping inside his
fluttering hole to check how stretched he is.

“Do you think you’re ready for me, sweetheart? Think you can take me?”

Jimin nods like his life depends on it, a wildness to his eyes reflected back at him in Jeongguk’s
gaze.

“Yes, alpha. I can take you. Please, I can—”

“I know you can, love,” his mate reassures as those fingers slip free, and even as lost as he is to the
call of his desires, he’s still gentle with his touch. “So good for me, aren’t you? All for me.”

“You,” Jimin wheezes, feeling the way calloused fingers slip down to spread his cheeks further,
swollen cockhead adding pressure to his hole. “All for you. Only you…”

“Mine.”
“Yours.”

The pressure against his rim builds, and when it finally gives way, it does so slowly, like a flower
in bloom beneath the attention of the sun, Jimin’s walls stretching in a way that is both satisfying
and terrifying. Hands scrabbling at Jeongguk’s back, nails once more sinking into skin, he's
desperate for something to hold onto, something to anchor himself to the current moment, lest he
become lost to the tempest ravaging in his body as surely as it does outside the cave. Sparks erupt
just beneath his skin, the feel of Jeongguk slowly and steadily driving forward, carving out a space
for himself inside, forces a cry from his lips, until Jimin is sure he can’t take anymore,
overwhelmed with images of the two of them becoming so connected that they lose any sense of
individuality, of two separate beings, and instead, become one.

That consuming pressure builds in his stomach then, as if Jeongguk is there, right there,
rearranging his insides to make room for himself, and when Jimin’s head lolls down to see, he isn’t
sure if he imagines the way his stomach slightly bulges or not, the visual itself causing precome to
blurt pathetically into the hollow of his navel, slightly distended now and spilling over to join the
rest of the pearlescent fluid streaking across his skin.

Reaching a hand down, it gets tangled along the way with the wayward strands of his own slivery-
white hair, pulling as it continues it's descent, but Jimin doesn’t mind, his singular focus on that
fascinating bump, a palm trailing over it and making them both moan, Jimin’s eyes rolling up as
he’s stimulated from both ends, his hand feeling as if he’s directing Jeongguk's big cock to press
into that bundle of nerves that light up a kaleidoscope of colors behind the lids of his eyes.

“Look at you,” he hears floating down from somewhere above him, sure that he’s experiencing an
orgasm, the likes of which he’s never felt before, though he knows he hasn't come yet, the rapture
rolling through him far more potent than anything he's ever felt. “So full. Taking me so well.”

If Jimin weren’t as useless as he currently is, he’s sure he’d preen at the praise.

But he has enough sense to press down even harder on his abdomen, that all consuming pleasure
and pressure drowning out the sounds of a rough, rumbling growl coalescing with a guttural cry as
the alpha shoves forward and finally bottoms out.
Full. He's so full.

Someone is breathing loudly. Maybe it's him. Maybe it's both of them. All Jimin knows is after
every exhale, the cock inside him feels even bigger, more pronounced—

But then, inch by inch, that heated length retreats from the most intimate part of him, Jimin’s hand
sinking with the return of his flat stomach as Jeongguk pulls his cock from the clutches of his body
until only the head remains, the omega whining at the loss, only to lose his breath when he thrusts
back inside, Jimin's inner walls clamping down on him, refusing to let him go.

He’s so wet he can feel it ruining the furs beneath them, Jeongguk’s cock seeming to pump his
slick out and onto their skin as they both struggle to get closer, to hold on and somehow manage to
survive their coupling. Jimin knows he won’t come out of this the person he was before. Knows
that this will change him. That Jeongguk will change him, and he’s so ready for it, but at the same
time, he fears it, because that means their mating will be over, and he never wants this to end.

When the alpha pulls out next, he does so fully, retreating from Jimin’s spasming hole and leaving
him empty, the wolf inside of him raging at that, letting out a high-pitched sound that is both equal
parts sorrowful and angry, Jeongguk’s response a series of guwaffs that is more animal than man.

“Come here,” he orders in a husky voice so deep it sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, pulled and
positioned until he’s on his right side, the alpha gripping onto his left ankle and forcing his leg up
until it can rest on Jeongguk’s shoulder, Jimin’s flexibility aiding in the new position.

Once satisfied, Jeongguk slams back inside, stars exploding behind Jimin’s eyes with the new
angle, jostled too and fro as his mate ruts inside him, arms wrapped around his stretched leg, eyes
seeming to glow red in the dim light, more wolf than man. Jimin can’t look at him for too long,
sure that it physically pains him to do so, and the sensation between his legs is just as
overwhelming, that tingling in his core that spreads from his loins to the rest of his body becoming
far too much to handle that he attempts to escape it, to try and hold onto some semblance of self,
that tight control he’s always kept over his omega; despite his wolf’s protests, held in a vice-like
grip.
Jimin turns more dramatically onto his side, until his face is covered by his hair, most of his upper
body hiding in the furs. But Jeongguk is not deterred. He merely puts the leg he’d been holding
onto down to the floor as well, guiding the rest of his body to turn, his cock remaining inside as
he’s repositioned, practically dangling from it while he finds himself on his stomach, pulled up
onto his knees to present his ass in the air, far more vulnerable and exposed then he was before.

“This what you want, love? Need me deeper, don’t you?”

Deeper.

Jimin never once considered the possibility of him accomplishing such a feat, his body already
stretched beyond its limits. But deeper he goes, until Jimin swears he can feel him at the back of
his throat, choking the air out of him.

“Al—Alpha.”

“That’s it, pup. Give into it. Let go.”

It’s too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin a constant loop inside his ears, Jeongguk’s
pace deliciously brutal, the angle perfect enough to create galaxies inside of him, stars blinking into
existence behind the lids of his eyes before becoming unstable, little supernovas of their own.

Jeongguk’s hands trace over his back, a contradiction in and of themselves as they work to
somewhat ground him with sweet gentle touches along his spine, brushing his hair aside, only to
then grip his hips and pull him back rougher and faster onto the hard, thick cock that pistons inside
him at a speed that does not give him any form of respite.

Jimin loves it. His omega loves it, and he finally gives himself over to the pleasure, to the more
animalistic side of his wolf and does what Jeongguk told him to.
He lets go.

Arching his back he grunts as he meets the pounding of those hips, actively fucking himself back
on his lovers arousal, mouth dropping when he shifts slightly to have that thick swollen head
nailing his prostate on every stroke, grinding his teeth, grunting and growling with the constant
shiver that starts from his head and works through him like lightning all the way down to his toes,
causing them to curl.

He comes with a high-pitched yell that has his ears ringing, inner walls fluttering around that
impossible length inside him as he collapses fully onto the furs, Jeongguk following him down,
conforming to his body in order to rut into him again, growling against his neck as he tongues at
the sweat dotting his flesh, helping to milk Jimin’s orgasm with the sinful motions of his hips.

“Look at you. Coming all over yourself from just my cock when I haven’t even knotted you yet.
Such a good little omega, My perfect omega.”

Jimin whines, those words coupled with his drawn out orgasm almost too much to bear, wringing
him out until he's spent.

But Jeongguk won’t let him rest, the alpha working into him with reinvigorated fervor, and Jimin is
sure he’s going to faint, feeling as if he’s unable to draw a proper breath, fingers clenching into the
furs beneath him as if they’ll offer any sort of aid, once again desperately trying to hold on as he’s
pulled back onto that thick cock, sure he’s not imagining things when he can feel it pulsating inside
him.

When Jeongguk pulls out again, Jimin falls onto the soft pallet, careful hands turning him until he’s
once again on his back.

“Wanna see your face when I knot you.”

And with that explanation, he hoists Jimin’s hips up and impales him on his cock once more,
sending Jimin’s already mercurial body into a more capricious state as he uses his hold to force the
omega to meet his thrusts.

“Gods you’re beautiful, Jimin. I wish you could see yourself now. Gorgeous—”

A whine flows past his lips, head shaking back and forth, though he knows not if it’s in
disagreement, his own cock hardening between his legs, another hitching sigh escaping the omega
when Jeongguk runs his fingers through some of the mess that still clings to his abdomen, and
promptly brings it to his own mouth, Jimin's eyes widening as his lover hums around the digits
while he licks them clean.

“Sweet everywhere, aren’t you?”

Jimin can’t respond, forgetting how language works, nothing but sounds and frazzled nerves now,
eyes fixated on his alpha as he once again swipes through the remnants of his release, this time
bringing it to Jimin’s lips, which part of their own accord, allowing those fingers inside to press
against his tongue and be sucked clean, unable to look away as his mate's eyes burn a deeper shade
of vermillion.

“I’m going to devour you whole,” he promises, right before leaning down to replace those fingers
with his tongue, mouth slanting hungrily over Jimin’s until he’s sure Jeongguk is going to make
good on his promise.

He whines when that big, thick cock pumps into him faster, heavy balls slapping against his ass
every time he fucks forward, sure he can feel every single twitch. Jimin is so wet with his own
arousal, and likely from the precome he earlier witnessed leaking copiously from the swollen head
of Jeongguk's dick that he feels wreaked with it, sloppy, yet still remaining tight enough that he
feels it when the base starts to swell, that girth becoming thicker, hands slipping up Jeongguk’s
chest, along his neck, until they can frame his face, getting lost in those unfathomable eyes, as red
as an autumn moon.
“You feel it? Gonna take all of me, aren’t you Jimin.”

It’s not a question, but still Jimin holds his gaze and does his best to nod, tongue peeking out to
trace his lips, mouth practically watering at the thought.

“Yeah. You want it.”

“Want it,” he repeats in a pitiful whimper, the alpha clearly pleased.

“I’ll give it to you, sweetheart.”

Jimin’s world tilts on its axis as Jeongguk wraps his arms around his midsection, pulling him up
until he’s straddling his lap, another surprised cry leaving him when Jeongguk’s cock is buried
even deeper inside of him, gravity and his own weight pushing him down onto that growing base.

“Hold on.”

Jimin obeys, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s neck just as Jeongguk grips his thighs, using his
hold to lift Jimin up before dropping him back down again, hips thrusting frantically to keep his
desired pace, and all Jimin can do is tighten his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair, the action bringing a
groan of appreciation from his lover.

Those hands on his thighs sneak down between his legs, gripping into the globes of his cheeks in
anticipation as he pulls them apart, further exposing him where they're joined to the cool air,
Jimin’s cock jumping at the image it puts in his mind, and he wishes that he could watch himself
taking the alpha in.

He’s close again already, and judging by the way Jeongguk’s knot quickly swells inside him when
he bottoms out on a particularly sharp thrust—the engorged flesh stretching him further, pressure
lighting him up in the best of ways as he struggles to pull out again—he’s close too.

“Jeongguk—”

“I’m ready, love. Open up for me.”

He says it as if he's feeding him, and all Jimin has to do is allow his lips to part—

The knot sinks back in with an embarrassing, wet slurp, Jimin clenching down on it
experimentally, reveling in the way it makes Jeongguk shiver and moan, the alpha trying to pull
back out again, the pressure mounting far more than the last time as the skin expands, and Jimin
swears he can feel his opening relinquish it inch by inch until it pops out completely. Jeongguk
thrusts in once, twice more, the knot forcing itself past his rim until he swears he'll be split in two
as it gets sucked back inside, finally too big to slip out again, locking them in together.

Even so, Jeongguk attempts to fuck into him still, his movements small, but deep, rubbing right
over Jimin’s prostate as the knot swells further inside, his own cock flushed angry and red between
their stomachs, on the precipice of another blinding orgasm when a wave of wet heat floods inside
of him, Jeongguk letting out a beastial sound as he finally comes.

It sends the omega over the edge for the second time, the intensity of that pleasure drawn out and
increased tenfold when a set of sharp teeth clamp down directly over his scent gland, his
enraptured cry following Jimin down into euphoria. It’s in this place where his wolf takes over, and
even though Jeongguk still has a hold of him with his mouth, Jimin somehow manages to brush the
midnight strands of the alpha’s hair aside to reveal the golden flesh of his throat, gums tingling
when his teeth elongate, biting into the juncture where his shoulder meets neck, completing their
mating marks.

A current runs through him, electric and immolating, coursing through his veins and lighting Jimin
up from the inside until he’s sure he’s glowing with it, a strange kind of presence filling him as if
there was space for it all along. Not an intruder in the fabric of his own mind, but one that belongs,
kindred.
A mate.

Shivering in his alpha’s arms, Jimin further buries his nose into his neck, taking comfort in their
combined scents, in the sweat clinging to their skin, the way Jeongguk pants against his own mark
as they struggle to catch their breaths and calm themselves, their hearts beating a matching rhythm
against their chests.

How much time passes, Jimin couldn’t say, but slowly the alpha’s jaw unhinges from his skin,
stinging slightly, though not enough to bother the omega with his regenerative healing. Hands run
through the tangled strands of his hair, and Jimin instinctively bites down harder, not wanting to
separate yet.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You let go when you’re ready.”

Gratitude fills him at his mate’s reassurance and understanding, a rumbling purr starting up in his
chest over his soft caresses. The alpha wraps him up in his arms and lowers him down into the pile
of furs, his knot still inflated, wave after wave of come shooting inside of him to coat his insides in
warmth, and all the while Jeongguk trembles in his arms as he experiences his prolonged orgasm.

Thoughts fly within the confines of Jimin’s mind, like a cyclone above the waves of a tumultuous
sea, one thing for certain, one thing that makes sense.

They’re finally mated now, and Jimin feels…at peace, for the first time in his life, the restlessness
that burrowed beneath the surface of his skin to make a home for itself there is gone, and in its
place is Jeongguk, his wolf appeased.

Tentatively, he releases the hold his teeth have on Jeongguk’s neck, tongue licking over the
reddened skin, gasping when that still hard cock twitches inside him.
“Are you alright, love? Was I too rough with you?”

Jimin is sure Jeongguk couldn’t be too rough with him if he tried, his caring nature prevalent.

“I’m more than alright,” he assures, nearly wincing from how wrecked he sounds. “I’m perfect.”

Looking up, their eyes meet, the shocking shade of crimson slowly fading away from Jeongguk’s
gaze as he stares down at him, captivated, the palm of one hand coming up to cup Jimin’s cheeks,
fingers tracing over his lips.

“You were a dream, Jimin,” he confesses, and the omega doesn’t need him to elaborate, heat
flushing his cheeks as more come floods inside of him, so full with it now that he feels a pleasant
ache in his tummy. “So perfect for me, taking everything I have to give you so well.”

“Always,” he answers in a barely there breath.

The alpha traces along Jimin’s cheek with the tip of his nose, those eyes still glued to him when he
asks, "And did I please you, my love?”

“Was I not obvious enough,” Jimin teases, taking Jeongguk’s hand and sliding it through the mess
that paints his stomach, the two sharing a shameless grin.

“You weren’t very talkative,” Jeongguk teases back, and Jimin has half a mind to swat him.

“Forgive me. I found words difficult.”

“That good?”

It’s endearing that he wishes for praise as well, and Jimin is all too happy to oblige.

“Good falls short, alpha. Even the poets would be inadequate in describing the pleasure you visited
upon me. Does that answer your question?”

“I would say it does,” he sighs, their smiles mirroring each other. “You’re mine now,” he whispers
as if in awe, and Jimin shakes his head with a small grin.

“I was always yours, love. Just as you were always mine.”

“Mmhmm, you’re not wrong, sweetheart,” he beams, “but now we belong to each other in every
way a mate can.”

Tickling fingers trace over the fresh bite, and Jimin trembles at the touch, his wolf practically
singing inside of him, overjoyed. Slowly, the alpha leans further down, kissing the tip of his nose
as if he didn’t just perform the filthiest acts on Jimin, bringing a giggle past his lips.

More come floods inside of him, both of them shaking as Jimin swears he feels Jeongguk's orgasm
like a phantom sensation, as if it were his own.

That's new.

He waits for another wave, and sure enough, Jimin experiences the same, wondering if this is a
trait of their newly formed connection, vowing to test it…but later.
They settle again, a contented exhaustion taking over Jimin’s limbs as he breathes in their
combined scents, sparking a memory.

“These furs smell of a past rut,” he murmurs, and it’s Jeongguk’s turn to chuckle beneath his
breath.

“This is where I spent them. The day we met, I emerged from this cave in search of food, which led
me to you.”

Tracing swirling designs along Jeongguk’s skin, Jimin thinks back to that time as curiosity takes
over.

“The night before, I heard a wolf howling, and it made my omega restless. It was you, was it not? I
could hear you so clearly.”

“It was me,” Jeongguk confirms, palm sliding over Jimin’s own hand to intertwine their fingers
together. “I didn’t know why, but during my last rut, my wolf was more uneasy than usual,
compelled to a singular destination. It pulled me from the safety of the forest, towards the edge of
the trees where your woodcutters worked, ignoring every warning my mother had ingrained in me
about the pack we fled from. I lingered there, staring up at the silhouette of the village and the
Great Lodge, and I felt this indescribable longing, but I didn’t know the reason then. I do now.”

“You could feel me? Even then?”

“Even then,” Jeongguk swears, kissing Jimin’s temple.

“I felt you too. Despite my fear of what lay beyond the treeline of Soksagim, I’ve always been
drawn to this place. To you.”
The intensity in Jeongguk’s eyes steals Jimin’s breath away, the alpha surging forward to capture
his lips in a passionate kiss. He pulls slightly away, the pads of his fingers dancing along Jimin's
jaw, his cheeks, the lids of his eyes, until they sweep his hair back softly, the look he wears
branded into Jimin's heart. No one has ever looked at him like that before. No one has ever loved
him like this before.

A hand slides down to the omega's own, encircling his wrist and pulling until Jeongguk is able to
nuzzle into Jimin's palm, tracing over the callouses in his fingers that he immediately recognizes
the cause of.

"Who taught you how to use a bow?"

The question brings a smile to his lips.

"Namjoon, but only after I threatened to teach myself if he refused to help me. Probably thought I
was going to end up killing myself if he didn't give in, so he taught me in secret whenever we
could get away with it."

The alpha pulls those same fingers into his mouth, giving them a strong suck that goes straight to
Jimin's cock before he lightly bites the tips, making him shiver.

"And these?" Jeongguk murmurs, drawing over the scars that decorate that same hand.

"From my daggers," he confesses with a grin. "Now with those I am self-taught. And as I was my
own teacher, I can say that I was a quick learner."

They beam at each other, Jeongguk bringing his hand back to his mouth to place a kiss to every
scar, speaking words into Jimin's skin that brings a flush to his cheeks.
"Just when I think I can't possibly love you any more than I already do, you keep surprising me."
When their eyes meet, Jeongguk's shine like stars in the night sky. "I have a feeling you'll keep
surprising me for the rest of our lives, and I'll keep falling even more in love with you."

An emotional laugh escapes Jimin before he cups the alpha's warm cheeks in his palms, placing a
sweet kiss to his lips as he breathes in his scent, soothing his wolf when it fills his senses.

"In that case, I'll be sure to surprise you as often as possible, and love you just as fiercely as you do
me."

They hold each other close, and eventually, the knot inside him shrinks, Jimin whining with
discomfort at the inevitability of being empty once more, the heavy volume of both slick and come
threatening to leak out of him and create an even bigger mess. Jeongguk seems to sense as much,
their bond somehow feeding each other their emotions, and Jimin feels a spike of both arousal and
anticipation as his lover keeps his gaze, sinking down ever so slightly.

“What are you doing?” he asks, already affected.

"Do you remember what I promised you once we mated?"

How could Jimin forget? He takes that particular memory out sometimes, like a coveted treasure to
be admired under the cover of darkness.

“I plan to take my time with you. To discover every single spot that brings you pleasure and makes
you moan for me. You won’t be leaving our bed for several days when we’re finally allowed to
have each other.”

“We might not have several days," Jeongguk hums in remorse, "but we have here, and now, and
I'm a man of my word.”
A keen escapes the omega as that knot finally slips free from his body’s hold, followed by
Jeongguk’s still hard cock, the alpha slipping down to grip the backs of Jimin’s thighs, pushing
them up and apart until Jimin is fully exposed, hole winking just as slick and come begin to trickle
down the cleft of his ass—

But then Jeongguk is there, with lips, teeth, and tongue, once again making good on his promise to
devour him.

________________

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Jimin shivers when Jeongguk runs the pads of his heated fingers over the fresh mating bite along
his scent gland as he pulls his fur cloak tighter around him, even though he knows his reaction has
nothing to do with the penetrating cold.

While the storm has subsided to a manageable level, the truth is he isn’t ready. Not really. The idea
of returning to his village brings with it its own sense of impending catastrophe, a quietus lying in
wait.

It’s been peaceful here, at Jeongguk’s home in the woods, free of the obligation and the
disapproval he faces merely for being who he is, his values, who he chooses to love, dissension
rising up in what is supposed to be his pack. His family.

Jimin longs for nothing more than the heat of the cave they only recently left, and the pleasure he
discovered within, wondering if given the choice in this very moment, if he would choose to return
home if there were another way…
But there isn’t, so there’s no use in wasting time entertaining it, his father needing the remaining
echinacea plant that Jeongguk has already packed away safely inside the saddlebags.

“I’m ready.”

With the alpha’s help he’s once again lifted onto the back of the black stallion, with Jeongguk
following after. Night has fallen, the snow slowly drifting down to the forest floor in a much
calmer manner than when they first arrived, visibility far more improved as well, but the cold
remains just as unforgiving.

The journey through Soksagim feels as if it takes longer than it should, Jimin unable to find rest,
even as tired and pleasantly sore as he is, his wolf on edge, the saddle harsh against his backside
after what Jeongguk spent the majority of the day doing to him.

What feels like hours slips by, but still Jeongguk guides them forward, snow crunching under the
horse’s hooves, branches brittle and snapping from winter’s biting chill, and Jimin burrows deeper
into his mate’s back, heated palm cupping at the fresh bite on his neck, swearing he can feel the
way Jeongguk takes an indrawn breath at that exact moment, as if he feels it too.

When the trees finally begin to thin, Jimin releases a relieved sigh at the prospect of their journey
coming to an end, Soksagim forest seeming to let them go with a reluctance better belonging to
something sentient.

And maybe it is.

The black stallion skirts around the frozen shore of Lake Geoul, past the old, darkened boathouse
and towards the east gate from whence they came. But as soon as they’re within sight of it,
Jeongguk’s hands grip the reins, the horse coming to an abrupt stop, a small displeased snort
leaving the Frisian as he shakes his head.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jimin wonders, attempting to look past the alpha’s thick shoulder.
He sees it then, before Jeongguk can provide an answer.

The east gate is wide open, though there are no familiar, friendly faces to greet them. It lies
abandoned, and as the current of the breeze shifts it brings with it the smell of smoke, a light
flickering in the sky that sends shadows up to the heavens that can only be caused by one thing.

Fire.

The village is on fire.

 The World Gone Quiet
Chapter Notes

Please read the updated tags. Warnings for this chapter include -

Fire
Attempted Murder
Murder
Blood
Injury
Minor Character Death
Attempted Sexual Assault
Non-Consensual Touching/Groping

If you have any questions or concerns about these, feel free to message me

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The Frisian side-steps, attempting to pivot and flee as they watch smoke rise into the night sky, an
unsettling plume of gray against the black, but Jeongguk holds firm on the reins, keeping the
stallion in place. While they gape up at the billowing clouds, the alpha hesitates, seeming to
deliberate with himself, and Jimin both knows and understands his reluctance to ride headfirst into
danger, newly mated as they are, when everything in their nature screams at them to protect—

But their friends are in there, Jimin's father, his people.

“Jeongguk.”

That’s all it takes, the distressed whimper of his name seeming to sway his decision, and with a
low growl that speaks to his frustration and fear, he urges the horse forward towards the village,
cautious when they approach the open gate. As soon as they cross the threshold, a gasp escapes
past Jimin’s lips, the sight of slumped over guards—motionless at their posts—further cements the
reality of what’s taking place.
“They’re dead,” Jeongguk whispers, and even in the dark Jimin swears he can see the vibrancy of
the blood that stains the snow.

His eyes rove over their corpses, fresh, by the looks of it, the falling white flakes yet to settle on
their bodies, and with bated breath he attempts to place them, not recognizing Namjoon, Yoongi,
nor Seokjin to be amongst their ranks, a rush of relief that has guilt twisting heavily inside his
stomach as a consequence. These men no more deserved this fate than his friends would have, and
they surely have families of their own that will mourn them.

His scrutiny brings with it realization.

“They’ve all been attacked from behind,” Jimin whispers, the sensation of an icy chill sliding into
the pit of his stomach has him shivering from more than just the inhospitable weather. “Whoever
did this came from within.”

Jeongguk turns to him, the two sharing a weighted look before he once more urges the Frisian
forward at a clipped pace, the distant sound of screams drifting down on the current of the wind,
until Jimin’s fingers ache with how tightly he’s clutching onto his mate in distress, heart rebelling
while he prays to the gods to put an end to this. To keep everyone safe.

It’s a scene of bedlam when they reach the village square, the residents panicked and scattered
from various fires that are slow to spread, but will catch quickly once it eats away at the wood, the
commotion waking many despite the late hour. Jimin watches on in horror, helplessness overtaking
him before he slips from the stallion’s back without thought, running towards the nearest burning
structure just as soon as his feet hit the ground, approaching the gathering of onlookers that gaze at
the dancing flames in despondency.

“Is there anyone inside?” He calls, sensing more than seeing Jeongguk come up behind him,
dismounted as well.

“N-No.”
It’s Hana who answers with tears in her eyes, rocking her distressed pup Jaein while her mate,
Chanyeol holds onto her, staring up at their burning home with expressions marred with despair.

“Did you see anything?” Jeongguk questions, and the other alpha gives a solemn shake of his head.

“We could only hear voices. Yelling. By the time we came out to look, those responsible were
gone. I think they were headed for the Great Lodge.”

Anger floods through Jimin, thick like the vapors of a bog intent on choking him. But he forces it
down for the sake of his pack mates, and lowers himself to the ground, grabbing as much snow as
he can, using his cloak to assist in carrying it before throwing it at the flames.

“Come on!” he calls, stopping more wolves in their attempt to escape. “Fetch water from the wells,
or use snow. Try to put out the fires before they spread. We can work to save as much as we can.”

Maybe it’s the look in his eyes, the fervor in which he moves, or the command in his tone, but
people start to listen to him, and he watches as several gather to help, carrying as much snow as
they can to pour over the flames in an effort to suffocate them.

“We have to go,” Jeongguk murmurs in his ear after he throws another armful, and Jimin nods
even though it physically pains him to leave those in need, taking Jeongguk's offered hand that
helps pull him back up onto the stallion once the alpha regains his seat, arms wrapping around his
waist when they press into a gallop.

Everywhere they ride it’s more of the same. Fires spreading, dead guards in the streets, blood in the
snow, his pack scattered, their voices whispering of an ambush, of taunting shadows that came in
the night, faceless enemies made from nightmares.

They’re nearing the Great Lodge when Jimin sees it, a light on the horizon that makes his blood
run cold.
“Jeongguk!” he cries, pointing in the direction of the most severe fire he’s seen since they entered
the village.

It’s the stables, flames engulfing the roof, the thatch acting as an accelerant.

The alpha’s head turns in that direction, cursing when he sees and immediately changes course, the
heat becoming more unbearable the closer they get, the very air itself seeming to waver and distort
as if reality is bending. Jimin slips off of the stallion’s back once more as soon as they slow—
Jeongguk not far behind—and cautiously approaches the barn doors with one arm held above his
head, pressed close to his brow in an effort to shield his gaze, stomach clenching when he sees the
pitchfork that's been shoved through the enclosed pull handles to form a makeshift lock.

Whoever did this didn’t want to give the animals inside a chance to escape, and likely didn't want
any member of the pack using them to flee.

Jimin's stomach roils with nausea even as he’s wracked by coughs, the smoke already affecting
him, leaking out of the cracked wood in droves, stinging his eyes and making them water
profusely. The air is too thin, his lungs aching in protest when he reaches unthinkingly for the
pitchfork’s handle, gripping it tight and giving a sharp tug even as the heat sears into the vulnerable
skin of his palms until it feels tight and raw. Jeongguk steps in next to him, taking hold of the metal
tines despite how excruciating it must be, Jimin's hands protesting worse in commiseration. They
pull together until it begins to ease away and out of the handles, the wooden doors groaning
horribly once it’s finally free.

“We don’t know how bad it is inside,” Jeongguk pants, tossing the pitchfork away in the snow.

The heat is already insufferable from where they stand, sweat drenching the long strands of their
hair to drip down the contours of their face, and Jimin tries to blink away the moisture in his eyes
that leaves behind a stabbing pain once it manages to slip past his lids, ears ringing so loud it
makes it nearly impossible to hear his mate.
“You take one door, I’ll take the other. Use it as a shield. When they open, the air is going to feed
the fire, understand? We’ll have to wait for it to subside.”

Jimin nods quickly at the direction, taking the right side while the alpha takes the left. Together
they heave until the barn doors give way, and just as Jeongguk warned, he can see the wall of
flames that bursts free beyond the wood, as if a dragon has taken up residence inside the destroyed
building, unleashing its fury. His stomach twists in knots as the seconds tick by, waiting for the fire
to die down and become more manageable.

When the flames finally recede, the two of them meet each other’s gaze after peeking out from
behind their doors, sharing a nod and stepping back out into the open. Jimin watches as Jeongguk
removes his heavy fur cloak, and immediately does the same, knowing the heavy, flammable
material would only serve as a liability in such circumstances. The two of them throw the garments
over the Frisian’s back before it wanders away, Jimin suppressing a shiver as he shares another nod
with the alpha, a silent signal of preparedness, and carefully they make their way inside.

It's near impossible to see between the blinding flames that rage from above and the smoke that
trickles down to their feet, curling around their ankles like a monster intent on trapping them in
place. The horses are screaming, their cries echoing over the sounds of splintering wood, pacing
the circumference of their latched stalls in panic. Jimin runs into it blindly, opening the first half-
door he comes across, helping to guide a mare and her foal out of confinement, watching as they
immediately run, leaving the barn behind and making for the safety of the pasture.

Looking over his shoulder through eyes that burn even worse than before, Jimin sees that Jeongguk
does the same on his side, and together they move down the rows of stalls, working quickly to let
out every trapped animal, each one instinctively knowing where to go in order to escape the
flames.

“Jeongguk,” he cries when they’re nearly through, the roof creaking ominously overhead,
escalating until the sound of beams snapping at an alarming rate continuously resounds. “Bongcha
is in the stall at the back. Her leg…”

The alpha’s eyes search frantically, rushing to open the last door on his side before they get to the
final stall that houses the injured shire. An Appaloosa attempts to rush out, but Jeongguk manages
to hold onto the steed, instructing Jimin to do the same to the remaining Pinto he sets free.
“We’ll have to cage her in, support her that way and lead her out.”

Jimin nods when he understands his plan, and together they lead their two horses towards
Bongcha’s stall, the wounded shire struggling to remain standing, trying to escape even on a
broken leg. She panics when they position the two horses to frame her flanks, but as soon as she
hears Jimin’s voice, she calms, becoming a lot more cooperative.

“That’s it, girl,” he soothes, relieved when she begins to move forward with the assistance. “Let us
get you out of here.”

But they’re moving too slow, pieces of burning debris raining down on them, both Jimin and
Jeongguk’s tunic becoming singed, the fire nearly catching until they desperately bat it out, making
sure it doesn’t get the chance to harm the horses. The two of them cough deeply, more nausea
turning Jimin’s stomach until he’s sure he’ll heave with it, but somehow he manages to refrain, a
never ending stream of tears spilling from his stinging eyes, the barn doors still so far away.

The roof groans again, the sound booming so loud from above Jimin thinks it could rival that of a
giant from the tales of old. They're not going to make it, a surety in him that the barn will buckle
and fall any second now, an intense wave of adrenaline surging through Jimin as a consequence
until his body trembles from the effects.

“Faster,” Jeongguk keeps urging, the animals seeming to sense his desperation, picking up the pace
in response, Bongcha somehow managing to stay with them as they press forward.

A beam comes crashing down, narrowly missing Jeongguk by inches, glowing sparks and embers
starbursting around them, spooking the horses further when the fire spreads on the ground, the dry
straw that litters it going up fast. It’s impossible to see, the smoke a thick miasma, almost worse
than the heat, like poison as it enters the lungs, not a second passing that Jimin doesn’t spend it
releasing wracking coughs, hearing Jeongguk do the same—

But then he feels it, the breeze that whips at his cheeks, and steadily, he begins to hope.
When the air finally clears; all of them breaking free of the barn, Jimin wants nothing more than to
fall to the ground in overwhelming relief, to stay there until his airway is clear again and his eyes
no longer burn, but they keep going, keep forcing themselves to put distance between the
decimated structure, even after the sound of the stables collapsing behind them reaches their ears,
the ground quaking beneath their feet with a deep rumble.

They don’t stop until they can no longer feel the heat of the blaze, the surrounding snow-covered
fields dotted with the horses they helped to escape, and carefully, Jeongguk and Jimin help lower
Bongcha to the ground, the powder soft where she rests, her injured foot undoubtedly soothed by it,
while the Pinto and Appaloosa remain close by, as if wanting to keep her company, bonded after
their ordeal.

The moment the shire is made comfortable, Jeongguk is on Jimin, the breath leaving his lungs in a
stuttering exhale as hands sweep over the tight skin of his cheeks, feeling brittle and dry like he
were made of paper. His eyes still swim and sting, clearing in accretion to detail the unsubtle lines
of worry on his mate’s face. They’re both covered in soot and ash, staining their skin, lining their
lids—and in Jimin’s case—darkening his hair in patches, but all he can see is the genuine fear that
Jeongguk’s expression holds.

“Are you alright?”

Jimin nods emphatically, even though he’s not entirely sure that he is, his own hands coming up,
revealing a violent tremor to them that cannot be solely blamed on the snowstorm that has picked
up around them, and weakly brings the alpha close.

“And you?” he starts almost desperately. “Are you alright?”

“Could be worse,” Jeongguk grins, attempting to lift the mood, though the way he sounds terribly
hoarse ruins the effort, making Jimin laugh wetly in spite of himself and the danger they’ve
encountered, the adrenaline still running rampant through his body wreaking havoc on his
emotions when his mate shudders out a request.
“No more risks, yeah?”

“No more risks,” he gladly repeats, and maybe if he believes it enough, it’ll be true.

Jimin convulses with another coughing fit, tracking the feel of the alpha’s hands sliding from his
face to his back, patting it firmly in an effort to help before he massages the area, body violently
shivering from the cold that sinks into his limbs.

“Come,” Jeongguk encourages, and he spots the Frisian they rode in on milling some twenty feet
away.

Jimin's eyes slip down, drawn to Bongcha resting in the snow at their feet, and his heart aches.
They’ve done all they can for her now, and though he hates to leave her, they’re needed elsewhere.
He allows Jeongguk to lead him away, lungs aching from the smoke and cold with every breath,
stumbling a few times and nearly losing his footing if not for the alpha keeping a steadying hold on
him.

“Here,” he murmurs softly, removing the ivory cloak from the back of the Frisian to gently place
over Jimin’s shoulders until he’s wrapped up in it, the shivering subsiding almost instantly with the
familiar warmth that brings with it comfort.

With tired eyes he watches as Jeongguk does the same with his own midnight-fur cloak, and again
they share another weighted look, the alpha posing a softly spoken question.

"Are you ready?"

He isn't. Not really. But what choice does he have?

Jimin gives a nod that he hopes appears more decisive than what it is, sighing when Jeongguk grips
him around the waist in order to lift him onto the back of the horse once more, with an ease that
Jimin can't help but find impressive. He's still struggling to do simple tasks like this himself while
his body continues to recover from the effects of the poison, which haven't completely gone yet,
clinging to him as if desperate to remain.

When Jeongguk gains the saddle in front, Jimin secures his arms around his waist again, one of the
alpha’s hands covering both of his own before he sets into a gallop, putting them back on course
for the Great Lodge. Jimin takes the opportunity to breathe in deeply the scent of rosemary and
cloves, hoping it brings with it the feeling of safety and calm it usually offers to him, even as his
lungs continue to ache, even as they ride towards danger, that hope crumbling when the smell of
smoke and ash overpowers what he’s searching for, what both he and his omega so desperately
need…

They ride on, the sound of hooves breaching snow lost to the wind as they get closer and closer,
and despite his initial worry, the large structure of the lodge remains intact, with no sign of fires
licking away at the frame of his home, and Jimin releases a sigh of relief at that, even though his
trepidation continues to rise. Everything feels cut off, the higher they climb the gradual slope of the
mountainside the more removed they are from the pandemonium below, as if this place has yet to
be touched.

But that’s just a dangerous illusion.

“It’s likely they’re looking for us. For me,” he whispers when Jeongguk slows to a trot, guiding the
horse around to the less traveled side-entrance off of the kitchens. “You remember what I told you
when you were first brought here? About what happens to the offspring of a former head alpha?”

His mate nods, a tic to his jaw.

“You said that they’re usually made an example of, one way or another,” Jeongguk murmurs
before he gracefully dismounts, arms held out to him to catch and hold as Jimin slides off the
Frisian, a look of determination taking over his features. “I’m going to protect you,” the alpha
vows. “They’ll have to go through me first to even get near you.”
“If they do that,” Jimin starts gently, fingers gripping onto his arms like a lifeline. “If something
happens to you, I’m dead already.”

It’s a reference to their bond, to the fact that they’ve imprinted on each other, and Jimin takes
solace in that, even if it does sound macabre, the fact that if Jeongguk were to fall, so too would he.

Hand conforming to his chin, using his grip to guide him forward, the alpha places the softest kiss
to his lips, a sweet touch that feels out of place in their unkind surroundings, and one that ends far
too quickly out of necessity.

Once released, Jimin pushes his already strained senses, mentally preparing while searching for
any signs of a threat, moving together as a unit when they approach the door. They enter through
the kitchens as quietly and as cautiously as they can, the space dark and deserted, something
ominous in the air that puts Jimin even more on edge, his wolf nearly manic.

It’s too quiet.

Jeongguk's hand holds his, the two moving seamlessly through the space towards the stairs
designated for staff which leads to the upper floors, passing the door that descends down into the
cellar, Jimin’s stomach sinking when he sees that it’s open, a small, almost imperceptible noise
reaching his sensitive hearing too late.

He doesn’t have time to react before fingers grip unkindly onto the loose strands of his long hair
from behind, yanking his head back until it’s at an uncomfortable angle, neck and skull protesting
in pain, his hand losing its grip on his mate.

In front of him, someone else barrels into Jeongguk’s side as he's distracted, easily able to fend off
the attack as the bite of a blade presses against Jimin’s throat, an all too familiar voice issuing a
warning.

“If you don’t want me to gut your whore like a fish, I suggest you behave.”
Hanyu.

Which means that the one currently failing to subdue Jeongguk is Minhei, though the alpha
immediately stills as soon as he sees who has a hold of Jimin, his hands going up placatingly, the
fight leaving him once those wide eyes fall to the weapon pressed threateningly against his mate’s
throat.

Jimin is overtaken with guilt, unable to help but feel like a burden, useless in this instance as the
blade cuts into the first vulnerable layer of his skin, one thought making it infinitely worse. If he
dies, so too does Jeongguk, and it’ll be all his fault.

The knife then shifts, tracing down the slope of his neck until it finds its mark, digging into the
fresh wound of his mating bite, and Jimin’s wolf snarls, letting out a low growl that has Hanyu
barking out a taunting laugh, adding pressure to the blade until blood blooms along his skin, and
Jimin’s growl transforms into a hiss of pain, eyes finding Jeongguk’s just as a grimace takes over
his worried features, as if he can feel it, and Jimin thinks that he can, physical sensations shared
between them now.

Hanyu continues to laugh while Jeongguk stares on in barely concealed horror, appearing like a
caged animal, clearly wanting nothing more than to lunge, the threat of Hanyu’s dagger the
imprisoning bars that keep him from doing so.

“Would you look at that,” Hanyu hums in overzealous amusement, and even though Jimin can’t
see her, he can feel her hateful stare sliding down to the bite until he swears it begins to itch. “You
actually mated the dog.”

The skin severs in increments beneath the knife’s kiss, wet heat spilling freely down past his collar,
soaking into the tunic below, sweat and soot falling into the wound to make it burn.

When Jeongguk’s eyes take in the sight of spilled crimson, red in turn takes over the dark hue of
his irises, his body language alone making it clear that he’s barely holding himself back from
attempting to tear the other omega in two, and even though she holds the upper hand, Jimin can
still detect the quaver in her voice when next she speaks.

“Minhei, get the ropes. Bind the dog while I hold onto its whore.”

The beta eyes Jeongguk nervously, Hanyu laughing at his trepidation even as she feels the same.

“He won’t do anything while I have his mate’s life in my hands. As soon as he does, I’ll slit his
bitch’s throat.”

Jimin’s eyes follow the beta, watching as he pulls Jeongguk’s arms behind him, the corded rope
knotted in an amateur fashion around his wrists—his time with Seokjin learning sailor’s knots
leaves him sure of that—but it still breaks his heart that the alpha just lets him, held in place by his
fear of something happening to Jimin.

Once Minhei has completed his task, Jimin can feel the way Hanyu motions towards the open door
off to the side that descends beneath the lodge, ordering, “Lead him down to the cells, I’ll be right
behind you.”

A look of confusion crosses the younger’s expression, tinged with an anxiousness that even Jimin
swears he’s able to empathically feel.

“The c-cells?” he stammers. “But…the high alpha says we must bring them to him—”

“I am to be the high alpha’s mate, and I said take that thing," she spits out, "down.”

Minhei’s eyes make contact with Jimin, something in his gaze speaking to his reluctance. But even
so, he grabs Jeongguk—so much bigger than him—and directs him towards the cellar, Hanyu
following some paces behind, Jimin having to endure the knife digging further into his skin with
each step down into the dark, passing the corpses of guards struck at their posts, the smell of blood
—Jimin’s and theirs—making his stomach churn.

They don’t stop until the cast iron of the holding cells his father had built into the walls come into
view, and Jimin tries not to stare at the other two corpses that litter the floor, they’re blood sprayed
across the walls.

“Put him in,” Hanyu commands, tossing the keys to the beta, who catches them from the air, an
obvious frown still etched into his brow.

Still, he listens, opening up the first cell that frames the wall in order to nudge Jeongguk inside
before locking it after him with a resounding click. He then moves to a second cell, the heavy
metal of the door swinging open with an ear-splitting creak after he unlocks that one as well. But
Hanyu makes no move to throw Jimin inside, and all he can see is the discomfort that increases in
the beta’s expression when he tentatively asks, “What about him?”

Both Jeongguk and Minhei watch the way she digs the knife further into Jimin's neck, and beyond
the stabbing pain, he swears he can hear her thinking, feels it in the way she breathes harshly
against his skin as if deliberating with herself, weighing her options before she demands, “Go back
upstairs, Minhei.”

The beta remains motionless, time seeming to come to a crawl; though it's likely only a few
seconds have passed, and Jimin's eyes widen when he watches Minhei shake his head in denial,
appearing to panic when he attempts to talk sense into her.

“We were told to bring them to Doyun—”

“Go upstairs, boy.”

“He’ll be mad,” Minhei tries again in a barely there voice, a wince to his features that doesn’t quite
reach his imploring eyes. “You know he’ll be mad—”

“He’ll thank me when he learns that this whore allowed filth to violate his body.”

A deep hatred kindles within Jimin, so debilitating it nearly makes it impossible to breathe past it,
though even that doesn't stop the vitriol that spills from his lips in a menacing growl.

“In a thousand other lives with a thousand other choices, I’ll always choose Jeongguk over your
shit excuse of an alpha.”

The declaration gives life to something so heartbreaking in Jeongguk's eyes, spoiled only by the
nutmeg and creme scent of the other omega that sours just as the knife bites into Jimin's skin even
more, his eyes helplessly locked with his mate’s as he’s hurt, an identical image of pain decorating
Jeongguk’s own features from not only their bond, but from seeing Jimin suffering, hands
frantically working behind his back to get the rope free, like he could somehow do the same with
the cage in order to get to Jimin in time.

“You’ll regret that,” she seethes into his ear, self-satisfaction dripping from her tone when she
adds, “But your loss is my gain.” And with that she motions harshly with her head, once again
ordering Minhei up the stairs, brooking no room for argument.

Something desperate crosses the beta’s gaze, which flits between Jimin and Hanyu as if he’ll be
given a different option if he waits long enough, one that he'll find to be far more agreeable than
what he's been offered. But it isn't long before he seems to give up, shoulders sinking, weighted,
his receding footsteps echoing inside Jimin’s ears with a sense of finality he can’t shake. The only
thing he can do is hold Jeongguk’s stare with his own as he finally divests himself of the ropes—
though the bars of his cell continue to keep him captive—and try and communicate with his eyes
just how much he loves the alpha, that everything will be alright, even though he knows what’s
coming.

Hanyu is going to slit his throat while Jeongguk is forced to watch, and if his stricken expression is
anything to go by, he knows it too.
Even so, Jimin’s nature won’t allow him to willingly meet his end, nor slip away quietly without a
fight. He wouldn’t want Jeongguk’s last memory of him to be that way.

“Disobeying your alpha already, Hanyu?" He tsks, injecting as much superiority into his coarse
tone as he can when he adds, "But you and I both know he likes his omegas subservient.”

“Shut up!”

The knife presses even more harshly into his skin, until he can feel the bite of it, like a snake in
possession of the sharpest teeth, yet still he persists.

“I didn’t see a mating mark on your neck. What do you suppose is going to happen if you bring me
to Doyun, hmm? Think he’ll still want me?”

More blood spills down to his chest, and from the cell Jimin can hear the sorrowful whine that
Jeongguk gives as it rises in volume, white-knuckled grip pulling at the bars, the sound he emits
nearly drowning out the other omega when she hisses in his ear.

“No one would want you now. Not with the way you smell. Not when you spread your legs and
whored yourself to a rogue,” she spits, nails digging into his shoulder where she holds him, and
Jimin purposefully makes the smile in his voice known, hoping that it tugs at her deepest
insecurities.

“And yet you’d rather risk Doyun’s temper than bring me before him. Pretty telling, if you ask
me.”

“I said shut up, bitch!”

Her voice is shrill, hysterical even, and instead of dragging the blade across his throat like he
thought she would, Hanyu raises it high over their heads, the image of death waiting to strike from
above. Impossibly, time seems to slow again, all the little details of their surroundings suddenly
noticeable. Jimin catalogs the way her fingers tighten along the hilt, nails sharp, her other hand
continuing to sink and tear into his left shoulder. He can see the way Jeongguk’s expression
morphs to one of desperation as he continues to pull uselessly on the bars of his cell, the metal
infused with wolfsbane, that look of panic transforming into one of agonized despair as the knife
comes down, the alpha’s scream ringing in Jimin’s ears—

Time rights itself, and the blade clatters to the uneven stone floor below when it’s just shy of his
quivering abdomen, the echo of it overly loud and jarring. Jimin's breath catches in his throat as
Hanyu’s grip on him loosens, taking in Jeongguk’s wide-eyed gaze that shifts to a fixed point over
Jimin's shoulder, the weight behind him drifting away until it sounds as if it collapses down as
well. Slowly, he turns, gaze sinking to the ground, confusion and shock hitting him in equal
measure at the sight of Hanyu crumpled on the floor, a pool of red spreading from beneath her that
follows the natural grooves of the stone, a look of betrayal continuing to light up her eyes like the
last vestiges of a fire, its glowing embers dimming completely, her features going lax.

Cautiously, Jimin traces the pair of legs that stand a few feet away, traveling up until he takes in
the person who saved him.

Minhei gapes down at Hanyu’s dead body, mouth open wide to rival the lids of his eyes as if he’s
only now fully comprehending what it is he’s done, bloody dagger clutched in wavering hands.

Jimin’s attention shifts back to the other knife Hanyu attempted to murder him with, dropped after
she was struck down, lying abandoned near his feet, and his fingers twitch. Before he can reach for
it, Minhei turns to him, expression shattering, like a child who's done something they know they'll
be punished for.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this…” he says in a broken whisper, the tremble that
runs through his body getting progressively worse by the second, crimson-stained hands tightening
on the equally marked dagger.

“What wasn’t?” he asks, wanting to keep him talking, keep him distracted, and it takes every ounce
of discipline Jimin possesses to ignore Jeongguk softly calling his name, an edge to it that sounds
like a warning to take care, and sidles up to the fallen knife. “Minhei?” he calls with a sharp tone to
his voice when the young beta’s attention seems to take an interest in his movements, relief
flooding him when those manic eyes meet him once more. “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

He doesn’t answer, simply gapes over at Jimin, blood dripping from the tips of his fingers now, the
growing puddle beneath Hanyu spreading until it nearly touches the toe of Jimin’s boot, a haunted
look in Minhei’s eyes.

“Why did you stop her?” He tries gently, shifting until he’s even closer to the knife, blocking it
from the beta's sight with his boot. “You could’ve let her kill me.”

“That was never supposed to be the goal—”

“How could it not be,” Jimin interjects with a frown to match the sharp edge of his tone. “You
aided in poisoning me.”

“Just to make you sick,” the beta quickly assures as if the distinction matters, eyes widening
further, imploring, and he goes to take a step forward before thinking better of it, Hanyu’s corpse
between them. “It was only ever meant to make you sick. That’s what they told me…”

“Why?” he presses, softer this time. “What was the reason?”

Minhei's lips smack, tears filling his eyes as he rushes to explain with all the urgency of someone
who fears to be cut short.

“After the head alpha fell ill, Doyun told us he tried over and over again to convince you to take a
mate, but you were reluctant, uncaring that your choice would lead us to ruin. He told us stories…
of what it was like before with the mad alpha, Chulseok. My grandparents were slaughtered by
him," he reveals in a whisper, seeming to get lost in his thoughts before remembering himself.
"Doyun said things would go back to the way they were before your father ruled if you continued
to refuse. That there would be infighting and bloodshed. He said it was only meant to scare you.
That you would have to take a mate if you fell ill as well.”

Minhei exhales a shuddering breath, those tears that were held at bay by the lids of his eyes now
spill forth down his cheeks, the trails of them glistening in the light to draw attention to his sorrow,
and he’s never looked more like a pup than in this moment. Something akin to sympathy tugs at
Jimin’s heart because of it, even as he tries to harden his resolve when the beta continues his story.

“But then, that day…Hanyu took the meadow saffron from me, even after I told her it had already
been added to your food. She wouldn’t listen, and she took it,” he mumbles, eyes sliding down to
her slack features before he frantically shakes his head, and Jimin has to control his own visceral
response when he's forced to remember, the taste of the tainted food muted on his tongue, the
anguishing pain that seared through his body as Jeongguk did everything in his power to save him.

“I don’t understand," Minhei admits in a quiet whisper, cutting through Jimin's haunted memories.
"You’re mated now,” the blood-stained hand that doesn’t have a hold of the dagger comes up to
press against his forehead, eyes squeezed shut so tight it looks almost painful as he unintentionally
smears red over his skin. “All of this is unnecessary. So why—”

“Because it was never about me taking a mate, Minhei. It’s only ever been about one man’s
obsessive desire for power and control," he reveals in a clipped voice. "Don’t you see? My father
didn’t fall ill, he was poisoned as well. They wanted him gone so that I would be forced to mate,
but when I refused Doyun's advances towards me and that gain, I was merely an obstacle as well.
They wanted to be rid of us both, but in a way that didn't incite suspicion. What better way than an
illness? Something you cannot fight nor assign blame. Doyun lied to you this whole time for the
sake of using you to carry out his dirty work. To have someone to pin this on if their plotting was
ever found out. Think about it. Naeri tried killing me outright, and so too did Hanyu. My death was
always the outcome they wanted once the original plan failed.”

The beta appears horrified, ashamed, and finally defeated, clear in the slump of his shoulders, his
body appearing heavier and weighted with guilt, unable to meet Jimin's eyes when he speaks next
with a somberness that makes him sound older than he is, forced to grow up too fast in a cruel
world.

“You should go,” he suggests. “Stop them if you can, leave if you can’t. Doyun has supporters
within the pack, and he’s struck a deal with the alphas from the north. They’re searching the upper
floors for you and your father. Hanyu and I were meant to stay on the ground level and keep
anyone from getting in or out undetected.”

“I won’t leave,” Jimin answers with a calm; yet determined lilt, and Minhei’s eyes rove over his
face, nodding from what he sees there. “What will you do?” he asks. “If you stay here and they
succeed, you won’t ever be safe, not after what you did,” he warns, both of their eyes drawn to
Hanyu on the floor. “If you stay here and we succeed, it’s likely you’ll spend the rest of your days
in a cell.”

Minhei doesn’t fight it, simply nods again in resignation, and Jimin feels that familiar empathy tug
at his heart when he takes in the hollowed look in his stare, and offers up another option on a shaky
exhale.

“There’s plenty of horses in the pasture, and the east gate is open and unguarded. You could take a
mount, ride north. Any one of our allied packs would invite you in.”

“Jimin,” Jeongguk husks, clearly disapproving of the idea, and the omega nearly whines, more
than understanding of his feelings, for if their positions were switched he would be far more vocal
of his disdain for giving the beta a chance at freedom, but even so…

“He’s just a boy,” he whispers, hating that his voice wavers, that he cares, that he feels horrible
over a life wasted when he wasn’t afforded the same consideration.

“He’s old enough to know that what he did is wrong,” Jeongguk refutes, watching the beta like a
hawk from between the bars of his cage.

“He’s right,” Minhei decides, voice firm when he looks at Jimin. “I knew. I knew it wasn’t right
and I still went along with it. I won’t run," he says decisively, repeating Jimin's words back at him
as he straightens his form to his full height. "Not from you, not from them. This is my home, and
I’ll accept whatever punishment is given to me.”
With that, he walks towards the open, empty cell next to Jeongguk’s, closing the door behind him
with a clang of finality, tossing the keys at Jimin; who catches them in midair, the two sharing a
look before he moves forward to lock him in, pulling on the bars to make sure it’s secure once he
does.

The omega’s hands shake as he side steps towards the other cell, almost violently trembling while
he works to quickly free his mate, unable to fit the key in the lock after several tries, nearly
dropping it twice before a hand slips through the bars, grounding him when long fingers gently
encircle his wrist, thumb caressing over the rabbiting pulse point. Jimin's eyes fly up to find
themselves held in Jeongguk’s dark; but loving stare, the air in his lungs leaving him on a sigh.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Jimin breathes, steadying himself as the alpha’s thumb continues to pet over his skin, soothing both
him and his omega. Gradually, the shaking subsides, and he’s finally able to fit the key in the lock,
quietly exalted when he hears the telling ‘snick.’

Jeongguk practically tears the door off of it’s hinges to get out, to get to him, bending his knees
before Jimin in order to grip about the backs of his thighs, and swiftly lifts him into his arms, a
gasp escaping his bitten lips at the display of strength, legs wrapping around that curved, narrow
waist, his arms around his neck. The alpha easily evades Hanyu’s body, not stopping until they’re
out of Minhei’s line of sight, and a ways back up the stairs towards the kitchens, his mate taking
time to listen and confirm that they’re alone and out of danger.

It's only then, and with great care, that Jeongguk presses him into the wall for support, one hand
cupping his chin, tilting his head up and to the side until he’s able to inspect the damage to his
neck with a critical stare that leaves Jimin feeling both exposed and vulnerable, yet always safe in
that vulnerability when it comes to Jeongguk. The alpha immediately scents, rosemary and cloves
wrapping Jimin up like the softest of furs, a hissing exhalation leaving him when a hot, wet tongue
laves over the severed skin along his neck, not quite deep enough to be life-threatening, his
regenerative capabilities already taking effect, the process expedited by the healing properties in
the alpha's saliva. Jimin obligingly bares his throat to him further, carding his fingers through
Jeongguk’s tangled, windswept hair in an attempt to soothe, able to sense the tumultuous emotions
raging through him, the trauma of what they both just faced already leaving its mark.

“I thought—” he starts, “I couldn’t…”

And Jimin hears all the words he doesn’t say, because he feels it too.

I thought I lost you. I couldn’t stop her.

“I know,” he whispers, pulling him closer. “I’m here. I’m still here.”

Jeongguk takes in another deep pull of Jimin’s scent, his own blanketing them both until he feels
drenched in it, the alpha reluctantly pulling away from his gland, pupils blown when their eyes
meet. Hands gently cup his face once more, and Jimin can see the war that wages in that gaze, a
desperation born from their nature that demands he protect his mate, take him somewhere safe in
order to keep him away from all this, where danger can no longer touch him. It fights with that
other part of Jeongguk that knows and respects how capable Jimin is, well aware that he would
never passively stand by while those he loves are being threatened.

“We need to go,” Jimin softly reminds, his omega nearly whining over the defeat he sees in the
alpha’s weighted expression, the nod he gives stilted and heavy.

Slowly, he’s lowered back down onto the landing, their hands finding each other as they steadily
climb back up the steps, Jeongguk stopping to kneel down at the bodies of two fallen guards,
unsheathing their daggers, one for Jimin to hold and one to keep for himself.

The kitchens are still quiet when they reenter, but Jimin continues to strain his ears to try and pick
up on any wayward noises, not wanting a repeat of being snuck up on.

Silently, they move towards the second staircase, ascending to the upper levels while keeping their
backs pressed to the walls, the distant sounds of footsteps on stone and muted cries keeping them
on edge. Both his and his father’s chambers are on the fourth floor, but as they near the landing for
the staff wing, they hear the jarring sound of metal clashing against metal, followed by a wet
impact that makes Jimin grimace just as something heavy seems to collide with the floor, having
heard it twice now. Once when Naeri took her own life, and more recently because of Hanyu.
Jimin meet’s Jeongguk’s eyes, nodding when he holds a finger to his lips before using it to beckon
him, a silent order to follow behind quietly, and together they travel up to the next landing,
confusion and relief instantly filling him when he sees who stands victorious at the end of the hall.

“Yoongi.”

The guard glances up at them in shocked surprise before they immediately rush to each other, the
other alpha sheathing his bloody sword as he goes.

“You’re back,” he husks breathlessly, a sheen of sweat accumulating along his hairline, chest
heaving, a look of regret crossing his features when he says, “I'm so sorry, but I can’t stop to
explain, I need to get to Taehyung.”

Fear spreads through Jimin until he’s overtaken with it, giving a nod of understanding as he
motions him forward.

“Go, we’ll follow you.”

With a look of gratitude, he takes off down the hall, both him and Jeongguk trailing after, Jimin’s
gaze sweeping over the man Yoongi fought as they pass, unable to place him until he remembers
that unkind gaze staring back that day in the Great Hall. He’s part of the group of alpha’s from the
north, though one he never addressed directly. His heart races as they rush down the familiar path
to Taehyung’s room, Jimin seized by panic when a potent, unfamiliar scent hits his nose.

The scent of an alpha.

It gets stronger the closer they get, heart sinking into his stomach when they turn the corner and
see the door to the omega’s room has been left ajar, the silence that spills out into the hall far too
loud. Yoongi barrels in first, Jeongguk and Jimin closely behind him, all three halting in their
tracks at what they see.

There’s blood all over the floor, the smell alone nearly making Jimin gag from how thick it is in
the enclosed space, wreaking havoc on his nose. A dark-clad body is slumped over on the stained
wood of the bench, as if they had hoped to blend in with the shadows, a hope that appears to have
failed.

And there, collapsed down to the floor and backed against the corner of the far wall, is Taehyung.

He’s as pale as the snow, almond eyes wide and glazed over, shivering even though there’s a fire
crackling away in the hearth, something clutched tightly in his blood-stained hands, and Jimin
recognizes it as his letter opener.

Yoongi is by his side in an instant, Jeongguk and Jimin stepping around the corpse to do the same,
straining to hear the words the other omega mumbles when the soldier softly cups his cheeks,
tilting his head from side to side as he searches the rest of his form for injury.

“Taehyung, baby? Are you alright?”

The term of endearment catches Jimin’s attention, the broken-hearted way in which it’s spoken
pulling at his already frayed emotions, Yoongi himself barely holding it together.

Taehyung doesn't look any of them in the eye.

“He tried to—he tried…”

Jimin notices then, the bruises that already mottle the other omega's wrists, the torn buttons on his
tunic, the ripped leg of his trousers, and he nearly loses his last meal, acid coming up his throat
until he wants to gag.

“But I stopped him,” the omega continues, eyes unfocused, staring off into the distance as his grip
tightens further on his makeshift weapon until his fingers turn stark white, voice nearly too quiet to
hear when he repeats, “I stopped him.”

“You did,” Yoongi reassures in a soothing lilt, even as it warbles and breaks, reaching to the side
in order to pull one of the furs off of Taehyung’s bed in order to quickly wrap it around the
omega’s shoulders, hands rubbing up and down his arms, trying to instill warmth, as well as return
focus to those hazy eyes, but it’s as if the three of them aren’t even in the room, and they're forced
to watch while he continues to mutter nonsensically beneath his breath.

Jimin concentrates, allowing his own scent of petrichor and polianthes to fill the space, hoping it
offers familiarity and comfort, turning towards the soldier to ask in a tenuous voice, “How did all
of this happen? How did it start?”

“I can’t say for sure,” the alpha admits with a broken sigh, his hands still rubbing Taehyung’s
arms, eyes mostly fixated on him. “We were all together, Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, Haneul,
Taehyung and I, upstairs, in your father’s chambers when he went to bed,” he recounts, motioning
with his chin at the trembling omega. “Less than ten minutes had gone by when we saw the fires in
the distance. But they’re organized. Before we could issue a warning they were already in the
Lodge. And not just here. The barracks have been cut off. Set ablaze along with the armory, which
means we don't have the numbers we should, nor the weapons.

"From your father's room we could hear the screaming coming from the lower floors, and while
the others worked to move the high alpha somewhere more defensible, I came down here to get to
Tae. I wish I could tell you how many are inside, but the majority of them must’ve taken the main
staircase. I've only encountered three, all alphas, the first two part of our own pack, the last one
from the north. They're searching all the rooms, looking for something.”

Someone, Jimin's mind corrects, nodding at the information, optimism blooming in his chest that
maybe the others did find somewhere safe to wait this out until they can retake control.
His eyes land on Taehyung’s clouded orbs again, breaking at the way his lip quivers, still palid,
hating that he's afraid to touch in case it would be unwelcome, and can’t help but turn back to the
soldier with an order.

“Stay with him, barricade yourselves in if you have to.”

Immediately Yoongi’s expression falls, shaking his head as he tries to deny the command, clearly
torn between his need to protect his mate and his duty to protect Jimin, but he makes the decision
for him.

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

“Don't do this. We need numbers to face them, the two of you can’t go alone—”

“Taehyung’s in shock, he’s in no condition to move. Are you suggesting we take him with us in his
current state? Or worse yet, leave him here by himself, defenseless?”

The alpha’s face falls as he looks between them, tightening his hold on the omega’s arms when
Jimin softens his tone, saying something that he knows will sway Yoongi’s decision.

“He needs you.”

A weighted sigh leaves his parted lips, eyes slipping closed when he gives a slow nod in answer
before offering a word of warning.

“Stick to the less traveled passageways, I don’t know how far they’ve spread, but from what I've
seen they're leaving people behind to patrol the corridors.”
The two alphas share a nod, and Jimin’s eyes once more fall to Taehyung, and it feels as if
someone has an unmovable hold on his lungs.

“You should scent him,” he suggests to Yoongi, remembering that when he was overwhelmed, a
victim to his body's response, the only thing that worked to calm him was having his mate's
pheromones furling over him. “It might help.”

The soldier gives another grateful nod as Jeongguk regains his feet, holding his hand out for Jimin
to take, helping him to stand after their fingers interlace.

“Be careful you two,” Yoongi rasps, raw emotion in the cadence of his voice as he watches them
move towards the door.

“And you both as well,” Jimin answers, vision blurry when it lingers on Taehyung, heart aching
for him, wishing more than anything that he could stay, pull the other omega into his arms and be
there in whatever way he needs.

And it breaks him that he can’t.

“Lock the door behind us,” Jeongguk instructs. “If it remains quiet, and you think you’re able, try
and get out.”

The two share another nod, Yoongi gaining his feet to do just that as they pull the door shut on
their way out.

Instead of retracing their steps from where they came, Jimin directs them to another staircase
designated for staff, and once again the two make their way up, leaving the omega wing behind,
and he swears he can hear both of their hearts jumping whenever a distant noise reaches their ears.
It becomes louder and louder the closer they get to the fourth floor, Jimin’s sensitive nose
twitching from all the combined scents in the air that are usually absent, from metal to spices to
that distinct musky quality that is more notably found in alphas, none of which Jimin can pin to the
usual guards that are stationed in the corridors leading up to his chambers.

These are different, and all of them are tinged with the darker quality of an alpha on the hunt.

The only soldiers Jimin has seen besides Yoongi are dead ones, and the lack of their numbers is
troubling. Attacking during the night has ensured that their ranks have been cut by nearly a third,
the nightwatch smaller than its daytime counterpart, which means there's a rescaled number that is
outfitted and prepared to fight, and those that are still alive are likely with—or struggling to reach
—his father, their primary objective to protect the pack’s head alpha. And as Yoongi said, the
barracks have been cut off, the armory as well. There's no telling when; or even if, they'll get
reinforcements.

They’re on their own.

Together, their steps slow on the stairs, the two of them freezing when they make it to the landing,
the smell so thick Jimin becomes dizzy with it, stomach lurching as Jeongguk once again places a
finger to his lips, those wide, doe-eyes sliding up and to the side, features pinched while he listens,
hand inching down towards his belt to encircle the hilt of his newly acquired dagger. The sound of
approaching footsteps is barely there, giving away that whoever they belong to, they’re
purposefully trying to be as light on their feet as they can, and maybe the plethora of smells that
lingers in the air is actually a blessing, masking their own scents with that of others.

Those steps get closer, Jeongguk’s body tensing before releasing a silent breath, limbs relaxing,
almost fluid, and Jimin has to blink when he strikes, whipping around the corner of the corridor to
pull a man onto the landing with them, back to Jeongguk’s chest, a hand clamped over his mouth to
muffle his cry of surprise as the dagger slits his throat in one swift motion. Jeongguk follows the
weight of the body down as it slumps to the floor, careful not to make any noise as he does so,
leaving it there to straighten back up to his full height.

Jimin almost can’t look away from the spreading pool of blood—there’s been so much of it spilt in
such a short time—but he forces himself to do so in order to take stock of Jeongguk’s well-being,
grateful to see that he doesn’t have a mark on him, his omega both satisfied and impressed with his
alpha’s capabilities.
While Jeongguk continues to listen, Jimin gets a good look at the dead man’s face, recognizing him
as Kim Ilsung, one of the alpha’s that he assigned to the original hunting party that ventured out
into Soksagim Forest all those weeks ago. The same wolf who had his ear bitten by Jeongguk
when they first came upon him in the meadow, and was undoubtedly swayed by Doyun to commit
treason.

How many of his own pack wish to see him fall? Has his father’s rule really been so terrible that it
would incite a coup, and now an open rebellion? Has Jimin himself been negligent of those who
depend on him while he stepped up in his father’s place after he was bedridden? They hate him so
much that this is the outcome?

His gaze shifts upward when a palm enters his line of sight, Jeongguk once again offering a hand to
better navigate around the body. Jimin takes it without hesitation, a quiet sigh leaving him when
Jeongguk's thumb pets over the delicate skin where his palm connects with his wrist, unknowingly
anchoring him while also helping to slow the rapid breaths he hadn't realized he'd been taking.
Together they make sure the coast is clear, judging it to be so before entering the corridor, and
Jimin's anxiety resurges when he swears he can hear countless pairs of stomping feet from above,
as if a mob is running down the halls, claustrophobia spreading through him rapidly, sure that the
walls are closing in, their enemies undoubtedly doing the same.

Cautiously, they travel the same pathway that leads to their rooms, and Jimin yearns for his bow,
knowing that if he could just get his hands on it, it would go a long way into chasing off the
helplessness he feels. Even armed with a dagger as he is, it’s really only effective in close combat,
unless of course he were to throw it—which he’s exceptional at, his marksmanship known to
impress even Namjoon—but the problem is he only has the one, and once he uses it in such a
manner, he has nothing. Jimin is more comfortable with long-range weapons, and until he can
manage to secure his bow, he feels at a disadvantage.

The route to his room stretches impossibly, longer than it’s ever felt before, the two of them
inching along, as quiet as they can be when another noise reaches their ears, both of them jolting to
a halt. There's movement just around the next corner, what sounds to be footsteps from multiple
sources. Jeongguk readies his blade, taking on a defensive stance, poised to fight. Jimin gives him
space, but follows when he inches closer, peaking around the corner.

It happens too fast, Jeongguk's speed and agility a sight to behold as he lunges out from their hiding
place, Jimin not far behind. There's four of them in total, all milling around mere feet from their
rooms, as if they knew they'd return, hoping to ambush them when they did so. Jeongguk is silent
on his feet when he dispatches the first two quickly before they can even put up a fight, the two
remaining not seeming to realize what's happening until their comrades fall gurgling to the ground,
drowning on their own blood from the fatal injuries inflicted.

They rush him then, drawing swords and knives that Jeongguk dodges gracefully, back arching to
put himself just out of reach of the blade from the first assailant when he thrusts it towards his
torso, spinning to then avoid the second before striking as well. As Jeongguk is preoccupied
parrying one, the other moves in from the side, attempting to take advantage of his attention being
distracted.

Despite his previous thoughts on the matter, Jimin immediately corrects the hold he has on his own
dagger, arm winding back before he executes the perfect throw, catching the man in the side of his
neck just as he goes to stab at his mate's unprotected back, the alpha falling to the floor almost
simultaneously as the other wolf Jeongguk fights with, both of them dead.

Jimin's heart pounds loudly, chest heaving, and his gaze curves over to Jeongguk, who glances
down at the alpha that Jimin took down, a grateful smile overtaking his lips when he looks back up
at him.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Jimin gives a fragile smile back, thanking the alpha in turn when he retrieves his knife for him,
wiping it off on his already blood-stained tunic before passing it back. Jimin tucks it away in his
belt, interlacing their fingers when the alpha once again offers him his hand.

They’re nearing the alcove of Jimin's door, hope blossoming inside him, words repeating on a loop
like a mantra in his head that reassures himself they'll be fine if they can just make it there—

But then Jeongguk’s hand is ripped from his, Jimin watching on in horror as his mate is viciously
yanked through the open entryway that leads to his chambers with a grunt, the sound of a loud
crash echoing all around them when he tries to go after the alpha.
A sharp, sudden pain; crippling and enervating, knocks the breath out of Jimin until he gasps for it,
unable to properly intake any air through the white-hot heat that rips through his side—his ribs in
particular—so intense he becomes dizzy, tears springing to his eyes as he nearly falls to his knees,
sheer force of will keeping him upright. The steps he takes are heavy and uncoordinated, stumbling
into the unforgiving stone walls while he forces himself to move forward.

When he’s finally able to rush inside after him, still an unsteady, trembling mess, Jeongguk
appears to be in a similar state, holding a guarded position, clearly trying to protect himself while
delicately grasping the same side that burns on Jimin’s own body. Insurmountable fear spreads
through him when he spies blood spilling from between Jeongguk’s clenched fingers as he and
another alpha circle each other in the center of the room.

The other alpha being Lee Eun.

He wears a hostile smirk full of teeth that has ice slithering down Jimin’s spine, Eun studying the
fire poker held aloft in his hands, turning it every which way, admiring it like it were a prized
possession, the dim lighting morphing his features to twist them in an almost nightmarish way.

“I was hoping I’d run into the two of you,” he beams, the vermillion glow to his eyes
disconcerting. “The gods must favor me.”

Jimin’s ears pick up the sounds of movement from above, echoing like a thunderstorm as it
descends closer and closer, and he quickly turns back to close the door to his room, latching it until
the three of them are locked inside. Spinning around again, he pushes his weight against the
surface of the door like it’ll help keep the impending mob at bay, stomach sinking when he catches
Eun's eyes on him, coupled with an overly smug smile when next he speaks.

“That’s it,” he practically coos, “make it easier for us.”

Jimin pushes his cloak aside, trying his best to ignore the excruciating pain from a wound that
wasn’t physically dealt to him, pulling the knife free from his belt and suppressing a shiver when
Eun's smile deepens like incisions that form the lines of his face, voice dripping with sickening
lechery that has Jimin’s skin crawling with his next words.

“Knew you’d be a fighter.”

Jeongguk moves to block his line of sight, forcing Eun’s attention back on him, fear sweeping into
Jimin with all the force of a tidal wave when he notices how much of a disadvantage he’s in, one
hand adding pressure to his injury while the other holds the dagger up, the weapon lacking the
reach that Eun’s fire poker has.

Jimin shimmies along the wall in the direction of the hook that houses his bow and quiver, still full
of arrows. The more he moves, the better visibility he gains of the other alpha, whose attention is
still focused on Jeongguk, though there are times Jimin feels that gaze peeking at him every now
and then, tracking his movements.

Unexpectedly, Eun lashes out, Jeongguk just managing to block the intended blow with his blade,
sparks flying when iron meets steel, and Jimin forgoes his measured movements, sheathing the
dagger and wasting no time in retrieving his bow and quiver from the wall, notching an arrow and
taking aim—

But the alpha’s are too close together, turning as they struggle and clash, the risk of hitting
Jeongguk too great, his panic escalating when it looks as if Eun is getting the upper hand. Blood
spills freely from his mate’s side now that he’s no longer able to add pressure to it, Jimin reeling
with disorientation, his body experiencing the effects of blood loss without losing any, seeing
double until he physically shakes his head, hoping to rapidly blink it away.

He can’t take the shot like this, not with the way they keep moving, not with what he’s going
through, and makes a decisive move, even if he isn’t sure it’ll work.

He has to do something.
“Step away from him, now,” He orders, forcing his voice to be firm and unwavering as he orbits
around the two himself, breathing a sigh of relief when Eun actually does let his guard down,
stilling completely while directing his focus on Jimin with a grossly pleased expression, eying the
arrow aimed at him in a way that says it poses no threat.

“Is this meant to scare me?” the alpha jeers, snickering when he adds, “Little omega with a bow.”

“I’m a much better shot than you,” Jimin points out, satisfied when he sees how the alpha’s
expression hardens from the jab. “Or did you forget the boar in the forest? I killed it in one shot,
meanwhile you couldn’t hit an owl out of the sky after multiple attempts,” he rebukes evenly, the
bowstring kissing the corner of his lips with how far back he’s drawn it, keeping Eun in his sights.

“I call that luck.”

Jimin releases the string, feeling invigorated and empowered at the howl of pain that erupts from
Eun's mouth when the arrow finds its mark in the center of his hand, his grip on the fire poker
slipping with the injury, Jimin's tone cocky when he asks, “What would you call that?”

He notches another arrow just as Jeongguk moves in again, seeing an opening to knock Eun off his
feet, impacting hard as they both fall to the floor. The other alpha puts up a fight when Jeongguk
straddles him, raising the knife he still holds, only to let out a grunt that transitions into a groan of
anguish, the sound slipping through gritted teeth just as Jimin feels another spike of blinding heat
rippling through his side, confused until he catches the way Eun digs his fingers into Jeongguk's
open wound, twisting malevolently until his mate can hold him down no longer.

Eun throws Jeongguk off of him, ripping out the arrow from his hand when he regains his feet, all
of his rage directed solely at Jimin now, something animalistic in his gaze while he stalks towards
him, easily ripping away from Jeongguk’s hold when he struggles to grip onto his legs, ignoring
his own pain as he fights to keep the other alpha from getting to his mate.

Jimin endures their shared hurt through the connection they have, resets his sights, and lets another
arrow loose.
The alpha staggers back, shock clearly written on his face before it slips down to his chest, gaping
at the nock of the arrow that protrudes from his sternum, right through his heart. With a strangled
wheeze, Eun falls to the floor below, dead where he lands.

Securing the bow and quiver over his shoulder, Jimin immediately rushes to Jeongguk’s side,
dropping down and trying to push his hands away from the injury to no avail.

“Let me see,” he implores, stomach plummeting like a sunken stone when the alpha shakes his
head in refusal, voice catching when he says, “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

A heaviness takes over the back of his tongue, throat tightening when Jimin chokes out, “Liar.”

He’d know even if he couldn’t pick out the obvious dishonesty in Jeongguk’s voice, his body
suffering the same effects without the cause.

Jimin’s eyes frantically fly over the room, searching with a desperate sense of urgency.

“There’s still bandages in here, I could bind it—”

A deafening bang rattles against the locked door to his room, and Jeongguk gifts him with a
regretful smile.

“No time,” he slurs, wincing when Jimin helps him to gain his feet, the omega hissing at the sight
of his blood-drenched clothes when his cloak shifts with his movements, granting him a glimpse of
the damage before Jeongguk's arm obstructs his view.

“You need to leave," the alpha orders through clenched teeth, "out the window and across the
ledge just like I did that first night. You can hide there until they're gone.”

Jimin shakes his head in denial.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Then hide in here. They won’t be able to smell you. You’re covered in my scent—”

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Jimin,” he hisses, pain a now permanent fixture on his features, but when their eyes meet the
argument seems to die on his tongue, a blood-covered hand coming up to cup his cheek, the wet,
sticky heat of it nearly having tears spill from the corners of the omega’s eyes before he grabs
Jeongguk's wrist, kisses his palm until he tastes copper, and forces it back down to his injury.

“Leave it there, keep adding pressure,” he orders, heart pounding as the door continues to be
battered, the sound of splintered wood reaching his ears.

Slowly, he guides Jeongguk towards his bed, ignoring the alpha's protests when he sits him down
on the edge and takes up a defensive stance in front of him, determined to be his mate’s shield.

"I'll protect you now," he recites, speaking Jeongguk's words back at him as he brings his bow into
position and notches another arrow, finishing his vow. "They'll have to go through me to get to
you."

When the door finally splinters apart, more alphas spill into the room, forming a half-circle around
their position. Jimin counts five of them in total, all of which are armed, the steps of a sixth
drawing his eyes, breath quietly catching at the back of his throat when he sees who it is.
Doyun comes to a stop near the center of the room, taking the time to survey Eun’s dead body with
an unbothered apathy to him that is far more disturbing than an exploding temper would’ve been.

“Your handiwork?” he asks with an unimpressed tone, eyeing the arrow Jimin has aimed at him
with a raised brow.

“Would you like to test if it was a lucky shot?”

The alpha gives an ugly sneer at the mocking tone, the smell of burnt cardamom worsening
Jimin’s nausea, but he keeps his arms in their stance and holds the position.

“You can’t kill us all in time, omega.”

“Not all," he answers evenly, using the metal point of the arrowhead to trace between the alpha's
eyes. "Just you."

His hatred and fury ignites to keep him calm and focused, unlike his omega, which snarls and bares
its teeth, the picture of a cornered animal.

Nothing more dangerous in the world than that.

“You always were the self-sacrificing type—”

“Don’t talk like you know me—”

“—but would you risk the life of that dog you’ve fought so hard to protect?”

Jimin hears the rumbling growl behind him at the insult, and the sound of his mate still has the
power to set him at ease despite their circumstances.

“He’s more wolf than you’ll ever be, traitor.”

Doyun’s lips purse, and Jimin’s instincts scream at him over how nonchalant he’s behaving,
knowing that something isn’t right, that something is off—

“You won’t come quietly for your own sake? Then what about theirs?”

More people barge into the room, and Jimin doesn’t want to take Doyun out of his sight, but he
can’t help it when the smell of cinnamon and cypress hits his nose.

Namjoon and Seokjin are thrown harshly to the floor between them, the two bound with Seokjin’s
eye bruised terribly, a cut adorning the corner of his lip that does nothing to hinder the look of
derision he flashes at their captors. Jimin’s insides feel as if they coil watching the way he
struggles to inch closer to Namjoon, chest constricting once he takes note of the large crimson stain
that spreads along his abdomen, the hilt of a blade embedded in his gut.

“You decide,” Doyun continues, his presence nearly forgotten in the face of his injured friends.
“Do I spare them, or not?”

Jimin knows what Namjoon would want, can see it even past the fog that clouds his drooping eyes,
in the small but concise shake of his head that he gives, and Jimin swears he can practically hear
his no nonsense voice in his ears, telling him do not surrender…
But as Doyun’s men draw near with their swords, he knows he can’t do it. Jimin can’t watch them
die, can't be the reason for it. He’d only have enough time to aim for one of the two alphas
approaching, and even if he managed to hit his mark, he would be incapacitated before he could
shoot off another.

Slowly, he lowers the bow, resisting the urge to flinch when they’re rushed, several men lunging
behind him to drag Jeongguk off of the bed. The alpha snaps his teeth with a growl, struggling
even as he’s in no condition to do so, the entirety of his left side drenched in blood that continues to
flow while he’s subdued and forced to the ground next to Namjoon, hands bound behind his back.
Jimin can’t bear to look at him so helpless, and instead holds Doyun’s stare when he approaches,
copper hair dull in the light, though it catches on the jagged scar that runs along the length of his
chin until it appears to glow.

The alpha’s hand reaches out, and Jimin isn’t entirely sure if he manages to keep the disgusted
grimace off of his face when fingers card through his long silvery-white hair, one twirling a strand
around the circumference of it until it goes taut, like he wants it to curl. The deepening lines of
Doyun’s sneer serve as his only warning, when suddenly those fingers pull, yanking his head to the
side in a violent motion that steals the air from Jimin’s lungs, fleeing past his lips in a short-lived
cry that he forcefully cuts off, embedding his teeth into his bottom lip to keep the pained noises
locked inside, not wanting to give Doyun the satisfaction.

In the corner Jeongguk struggles anew, a growl so deep reverberating throughout the room that it
has even Jimin shivering, swears he can feel it along the surface of his skin. Doyun ignores him for
now, his focus remaining on Jimin, that grip tightening as his other hand comes up in order to
move the hair off of his shoulder, like a curtain revealing the truth. Those unkind eyes sweep over
the fresh mating mark, and Jimin’s omega howls in rage, fighting between the urge to attack and
the urge to flee, well aware that the wolf before them is unworthy, not suited to so much as glance
upon something so sacred.

His neck protests at the awkward angle it’s kept in, the slit of his eyes glaring up at the alpha with
the full scope of his wrath, hoping against all odds that Doyun can feel it.

A finger presses against his lip, the same one Jimin's teeth are savaging, and with force Doyun
pulls it away until they part, tracing over the torn flesh with what looks to be exaggerated regret to
go along with the staged sigh he forces out.
“What a waste, allowing filth to defile you in such a way. You could’ve brought me great pleasure.
You still might, if the mood strikes me,” he offhandedly threatens. “Though you’ll hold the
position of whore rather than mate.”

“I’d rather my corpse be food for those primitive creatures that writhe in the lowest depths of the
earth than lie with you.”

Doyun’s smile holds a dangerous glint to it, one that promises suffering, and the satisfaction he’ll
clearly feel upon inflicting such.

“Then maybe you should've died when you were supposed to," he seethes, the hand in his hair
twisting as he continues, softer this time. "But don't worry, omega, you just might get your wish.
Not yet though. After I claim my title my men will need an outlet to relieve their stress, after all,
and several have already expressed an interest in you.”

With that, he inclines his head towards another amongst his ranks, the alpha stepping forward
when quietly summoned, and Jimin’s heart sinks even further when he recognizes Choi Haesoon,
the leader of the group of alphas from the north, remembering the objectifying way he looked at
him that day in the Great Hall.

“Relieve him of his weapons.” Doyun orders, releasing his hair before moving back and away until
Jimin’s entire line of sight is taken up by the form of the big man that approaches, a lascivious curl
to his lips that has both fear and revulsion bubbling inside him.

The bow and quiver slip away from his limp fingers, Haesoon securing both over his own shoulder
just before those hands return, pawing at his clothes, grin widening with each touch, continuing to
search even after Jimin has been divested of the dagger at his belt, the alpha going over the same
areas of his body he’s already checked. Jimin fights to keep in the meager contents of his stomach
while he’s groped through his trousers, inner thighs prodded, those hands then sliding back up and
around his waist, further still until they squeeze the slope of his backside.

Tears nearly spill past Jimin’s lids when he hears Jeongguk release another feral roar, and he can’t
help but look, stuttering out an exhale at the vermillion that shines in his mates eyes, a look that
promises death to the alpha that dares to touch what’s his. Even bound and gravely injured as he is,
he still fights, has to be wrestled and held down by their captives in order to keep him
incapacitated, but still he scrambles to try and break free. To protect his omega.

Jimin doesn’t want him to see this. Doesn’t want Jeongguk to witness the degradation he’s being
put through, knowing how deeply it’ll break them both, but his mate appears as if he’s ready to tear
their enemies limb from limb, Jimin sure he's never seen him so furious.

“Had to be thorough,” Haesoon jeers in his ear, Jimin’s body trembling in a violent reaction of
abhorrence at the suggestiveness and forced physicality of one that isn’t his alpha. The scent of
him; so similar to arum, disgusts Jimin, and he holds his breath as long as he can just to avoid
breathing it in.

It’s only after Haesoon steps away that Jimin finally dares to inhale, tensing further when he sees
Doyun hovering just behind Jeongguk’s back, both of their gazes locked on Jimin.

“Your poor excuse of a guard didn’t want to tell me where they’ve hidden your father,” he reveals,
and despite the words, he wears a smirk that masks his disappointment until Jimin feels on edge.

Even so, he can’t help but experience a familiar hint of optimism. Could that mean that his father is
still alive? Are Hoseok and Haneul with him—

“I had planned to challenge him for the title.”

The confession has a scoff tumbling past Jimin’s lips.

“I’m sure it would’ve been a victory to remember. What an unrivaled legacy you’d leave behind,
striking down a comatose man who cannot fight back,” he retorts derisively, a fire burning in his
gut that could rival an inferno, and one he desperately stokes in an effort to chase away the steadily
building terror that tries to take over when Haesoon circles around his back, standing directly
behind him where he can no longer see nor anticipate his movements.

That repulsive touch returns as rough palms grip unkindly into Jimin's upper arms, undoubtedly
masking his desire to touch by using the excuse of holding him in place.

“I don’t have to bother with that pathetic excuse of a head alpha now,” Doyun exclaims, feigning
excitement. “Because we have a new head alpha,” he raucously announces through a toothy smile,
the men that hold Jeongguk down forced away when Doyun's hand lashes out to pull his mate up
onto his knees by the long, dark strands of his midnight-colored hair, a wince painting Jeongguk's
features that Jimin mirrors, a phantom pain erupting in his skull.

The implication has Jimin’s eyes widening, his omega pacing in his mind, pawing at the walls,
terrified as surely as he is, because Jeongguk cannot fight in his current condition. He’d never
survive a challenge to the death from Doyun—who doesn’t appear to have a scratch on him—in his
current state.

“I’m a fair wolf,” Doyun suddenly proclaims, brandishing one of their stolen daggers that winks in
the light. “Let’s even the odds.”

For a moment, Jimin naively believes that Doyun is going to inflict a self-injury, but then the pain
registers in him before what he witnesses does.

The back of his calf feels as if it’s been sliced open, his own cry coalescing with Jeongguk’s, teeth
sinking into his bottom lip once more to muffle the agonized moan just in time when Doyun sinks
the blade into Jeongguk’s other leg, the taste of blood filling his mouth as he bites down harder, his
body once again rebelling while trying to locate and heal an injury that doesn’t exist on his form.

“See?” Doyun grins once he releases Jeongguk, his mate crumpling back down to the jagged stone
floor, where even more blood spills freely.

At this rate, he’ll bleed out before any sort of challenge can take place, and Jimin almost prefers for
that to come to pass, wishing a kinder death on his love than what surely awaits.

He breathes a sigh of relief when Doyun abandons Jeongguk and comes closer, the smell of burnt
cardamom cloying at the back of Jimin’s throat, an ugly smirk adorning the alpha's lips that could
inflict nightmares. Doyun stops directly in front of where he stands, the tips of their boots touching,
Haesoon’s grip tightening even further on his arms as if he’s a threat.

“I’m nothing if not fair,” he brags with a gentleness to his tone that belies his nature, and Jimin
doesn’t think twice before spitting out the blood that’s accumulated inside his mouth directly into
his face.

He doesn’t see the punch coming, but he feels it when it lands, the sound of Jeongguk groaning in
his ringing ears somehow both steadying and destroying him, loathing himself to be the cause of
that pain, the side of his temple blooming in agony from the hit, lightheaded due to more than just
the blow, sure it has something to do with the amount of blood Jeongguk has lost, and continues to
lose.

“This,” he hears Doyun whisper near his lobe, “this moment here and now, with this look on your
face, I want you to know it’s going to forever be branded into my mind, a memory that’ll keep me
warm at night.”

“I guess it’ll have to," Jimin slurs, spitting more blood onto the ground this time, "now that
Hanyu’s dead."

Rapidly, he blinks his eyes in order to clear his vision just in time to see the brief flash of anger that
crosses the alpha’s features, but it disappears just as fast.

“Maybe you still don’t understand. Omegas are only good for one thing, and there’s no shortage of
you. Before Hanyu there was Naeri, and before Naeri, you were nothing more than a stepping stone
of necessity towards the title I deserve, one that proved to be more trouble than you’re worth.
Omegas are replaceable. Useless. And weak.”
Jimin glares up at him beneath strands of disheveled hair, spots still dancing along the outskirts of
his vision when he struggles to take in a breath, forcing the words out past the ache of hurt.

“Then I truly wish for you to remember this moment. That it's like a reflex you’re powerless to
help. I want you to see my face, here and now, and remember the words you just spoke to me when
I take your life. I hope they haunt you.”

An almost unnatural silence descends upon the room, and for a moment no one moves. But then
that ugly sneer returns to Doyun’s mouth.

“Bring them,” he orders, swiftly turning his back on Jimin and exiting the room.

Everyone jolts into motion at once, Haesoon forcing him to move as Seokjin, Namjoon, and
Jeongguk are brought to their feet, steps uncoordinated, with both Namjoon and Jeongguk having
to be flanked and held up on both sides, feet dragging behind them, blood creating a trail. Jimin is
pushed close, stumbling until he’s brought directly behind his mate, close enough to run the pad of
a digit down the center of Jeongguk’s bound palm, his omega whimpering in both relief and
heartbreak when Jeongguk’s own fingers close to grip his, overwhelming the already tenuous hold
he has managed to maintain on his frazzled emotions.

His finger slips from Jeongguk’s grasp a moment later as they’re led out and down the hall to the
main stairway where they begin their descent, Jimin watching on in distress as Jeongguk is
dragged down the uneven stone, crimson left like markers in his wake. Jimin’s heart feels as if it
stops when he nearly loses his footing after stepping in a pool of it, Haesoon the only thing keeping
him upright before he can tumble down.

They’re swiftly taken to The Great Hall, past the empty deserted tables and the large double doors
that lead outside to the outer courtyard, the tepid air sinking into his bones just as the flurry of
snow melts onto the exposed skin of Jimin’s cheeks. Doyun waits for him on the veranda, leaning
against the railing next to the stairs which descend to the frozen gardens that wrap around the front
of the Great Lodge, that smug expression returned.

“Saved you the best seat. I don’t expect this to take too long, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate every
second of it.”
He shares a nod with Haesoon behind him, the others continuing down while Jimin is pinned
against the railing by the alpha behind, unable to do anything but take in the scene below.

There are others kneeling in the snow already, people he recognizes as civilians, mostly made up of
the serving staff that have clearly been brought against their will to witness this, their expressions
taken over by fear.

Jimin’s body jolts when Haesoon’s face nuzzles into his hair, disgust crashing over him so
forcefully he's nearly brought down with it, tempered only by his heart shattering as he's forced to
watch the way Jeongguk is dragged through the snow, dropped and discarded in the middle of the
circle of wolves as if he means nothing.

As if he isn’t Jimin’s entire world, the ice around him turning red.

“You’re here to serve as an observer to a historical event,” Doyun calls, voice a booming sound in
the silence of the night while addressing his reluctant audience. “The head alpha you know is head
alpha no longer. Your new lord is the rogue from the forest.” Jimin watches him bend down, hand
lashing out to dig his fingers into Jeongguk’s cheeks, and even as far away as he is, he can tell that
it hurts, can feel that grip along his own face, quietly crying at how heavy his alpha's lids appear,
how broken he looks as Doyun continues. “A poor excuse of a wolf, if you ask me.”

Jeongguk is released, and Jimin only just manages to hold back a whimper when he nearly
collapses down entirely, swaying on his knees, only just managing to keep himself upright.

“As our pack laws dictate, I can challenge the current head alpha in a fight to the death for the right
to lead.”

One of Doyun’s men steps forward, cutting the ropes that bind Jeongguk’s arms, limbs spilling
free, and again Jimin watches on in horror as Jeongguk nearly falls to the side, his newly freed
hands only just keeping him steady.
Doyun leans down, speaking quietly in his ear as both their eyes find Jimin above, and he strains to
hear what’s being said.

“—so vulnerable up there with that other alpha, isn't he? So many things could happen to him. So
many ways to break something so fragile. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Lethargically, Jeongguk shakes his head, Doyun's smile a vicious thing.

"Go on, then” he orders, “shift.”

Jeongguk has lost too much blood to do so, the strain alone would likely kill him outright if he
attempted such a feat in his current condition. He knows it, Doyun knows it, yet still he continues
to torture him, digging his boot into the back of one of Jeongguk's injured legs, the pain at the
slightest hint of pressure on his still bleeding wound enough to force out a muffled, guttural scream
through clenched teeth, one in which Jimin can’t help but share in, his own wavering keen choked
down on wet sobs, body wracked with convulsions that only seem to excite Haesoon further.

Yet still, Jeongguk tries, black fur growing along his arms, only to retreat back into his skin
seconds later when he fails, sweat dripping from his hairline, visible along his brow even from
where Jimin stands, body trembling with great heaving breaths as he gulps down air, overly
exerted.

Memories crash into him like a gale, filled with images, scents and sounds that he's tried so hard to
forget. There's screaming so loud Jimin fears his ears will bleed, and beneath it, an infant cries. It's
the look on his mother's face when she's told to give up her child. It's the way her hand falls from
him rather than tightening when she complies, not lifting a finger to stop it. But worst of all, it's the
smell of metal in the air, of blood in the snow, and a black wolf in the middle of it all, breathing its
last breath.

History is repeating itself.

“It’s practically over already,” Haesoon husks against his neck, Jimin letting out a gravelly noise of
disgust, his omega wild and unmanageable when the alpha scents him, taken over by the
incapacitating feeling of wrongness at having someone who isn’t his mate nor a trusted companion
do this to him against his will. “I say we celebrate early.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in panic and disbelief as hands slide down to his trousers, searching for the
laces that keep them secure to his hips, and it’s only a matter of time before he grows impatient and
rips them off entirely.

Rather than struggle, Jimin focuses his breathing, a familiar frenetic sensation coursing through
him as he tries to concentrate, calling upon his wolf and praying to the gods that; even after all their
history, the resentment and unresolved feelings that comes with his dual nature being at odds, he
can reconcile it and quickly tap into that strength that comes with his wolf form before it’s too
late.

It turns out he has nothing to worry about, his omega eager to inflict as much damage and suffering
that has been visited upon both him and his mate on this night.

They’re mistake was never binding him, and Jimin delights that it'll be their twisted views on the
capabilities of his subgender that will ultimately be their downfall.

Quietly and swiftly, his hand begins to transform, nails growing into the razor sharp claws of a
wolf. Once fully formed, Jimin immediately sinks them into Haesoon’s inner thigh, dragging up
when he pierces the skin to slice open his groin. The alpha grunts in shock, releasing Jimin as he
falls back, giving him enough room to break away from the rail.

His ankle is grabbed just as Jimin goes to take another step away, the stone floor rushing up to
meet him, clipping his chin when he hits. Blood fills his mouth again, vision swimming from the
impact, and the alpha gains the upper hand, forcefully turning him until he's flat on his back. Jimin
struggles anew while Haesoon climbs up his body, using his weight to render him immobile. He
grips Jimin's wrists in one hand while the other wraps around his throat, pressing down and cutting
off his airway, a rage in those red eyes that overflow with a murderous intent.
“You stupid bitch—” he snarls, spit flying from his lips, skin flushed from both anger and physical
effort, his grip tightening as if his goal is to crush Jimin’s neck.

He’s lightheaded again, a blackness creeping up into his line of sight that feels similar to
surrendering to sleep, the tension slowly leaving his body—

He hears her before he sees her, the familiar screech of an angered owl. Jimin is wracked with
coughs as the grip around his throat loosens and finally is released, air rushing into his lungs in a
painful breath that makes every muscle, bone, and organ scream.

Jimin watches as Haesoon writhes above him, frantically swinging his arms in the air, attempting
to bat Eunoia away, her sharp talons cutting the skin of his palms for his trouble as she goes for his
skull.

Jimin doesn't hesitate.

The alpha jolts, then goes almost completely still above him, wide eyes falling to meet his.

Haesoon gives a wet cough, and Jimin doesn’t even flinch when drops of blood spray across his
cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His fingers are buried in the alpha's throat, wet heat spilling over
the claws that pierce the skin in a fatal wound, making them sticky with it, and Jimin tries not to be
sick when he can feel those inner muscles constricting around his digits while the alpha retches.

It's horrifying, being forced to watch while Haesoon gapes, mouth opening and closing to emulate
a fish out of water. But another part of Jimin—the less sympathetic part—takes great pleasure in
twisting his hand, ripping it away until the skin and bone collapses with a jarring crunch. The
alpha falls to the side, and Jimin frantically pushes him off the rest of the way with shivering
hands, lip quivering, distressed hitches of breath that turn into tiny pitiful cries leaving him like an
injured animal, despite how he tries to keep silent.
Eunoia lands on his knee, trilling in what he imagines to be concern before he points to the
courtyard in desperation.

“Jeon—Jeongguk,” he stammers, barely able to get his name out. “Eunoia. Jeongguk.”

Jimin keeps pointing, keeps repeating the name as if he can make her understand, in need of an ally.
She cocks her head, staring at him with those bright reddish-pink eyes, before glancing in that same
direction, a perceptive look to her gaze that sparks something dangerous in him.

Something that feels like hope.

The owl spreads her white wings, taking off towards the courtyard, and Jimin tries to gain his feet
only to fall back down again, knees weak, legs shaking. He resorts to crawling closer to Haesoon’s
side, tearing both the bow and quiver from his lifeless arm before scrambling towards the edge of
the veranda, using the same railing he was held captive against in order to hoist himself up.

Eunoia attacks just as Jimin manages to notch an arrow, hands still unsteady, and he knows he’ll
never make the shot in this state. But then Doyun screams from below, hands coming up to his
bloodied face as the owl’s talons tear into the skin of his cheeks, his lids and forehead, forced to
relent when he blindly swings the dagger he holds towards her, only just managing to miss her left
wing.

“Doyun!” Jimin calls out as loud as he can, the sound deep and spine-chilling, like a wolf howl in
the night, echoing off the ridges of Hogok Mountain, the treeline of Soksagim Forest, and the
frozen surface of Lake Geoul before it comes back to reverberate along his skin, giving him
strength even as a tremor runs throughout the taut string of the quiver near his lips, nearly
dislodging the arrow.

But then their eyes meet, and Jimin confronts the unfounded hatred directed at him, recalling every
instance of suffering the other has inflicted upon himself and those he loves…
Jimin lets out a deep breath, and with it his body goes as still as a stone.

He releases the arrow, the sound of it singing through the air music to Jimin’s ears, its song cut
short when it finds its target.

Doyun is dead before he hits the ground, an arrow lodged in his right eye, a look of shock
permanently etched into his features.

Everything devolves into chaos, Doyun's fellow defectors desperately trying to regroup, drawing
their weapons on the others in the yard, descending upon Namjoon, Seokjin and Jeongguk, as well
as the civilian members of his pack that were forced to watch, and Jimin feels crushed under guilt,
knows he can’t kill all the renegades. Knows he can't save them all…

But he has to try.

He positions another arrow just as the sound of countless thundering footsteps coalesce around
them, joined by a battlecry that's carried on the wind with the scent of fire, smoke, and blood. He
turns just in time to see soldiers and civilians alike spill into the courtyard, armed with weapons
and led by Yoongi atop a silver mare with Taehyung safely behind him.

A rush of relief nearly knocks Jimin off his feet again, the adrenaline the only thing keeping him
standing as he nearly falls down the stairs in his haste, uncaring of the clash of his pack with the
traitors, fights still raging around him once he's in the thick of it, but his eyes are fixated on that
pool of red, on blood in the snow and the figure that lies in it.

Jimin crashes down just as he gets to Jeongguk’s side, numb to the cold when he takes his mate’s
face gently in his hands. Those dark eyes are slitted, the bright constellation of stars trapped inside
are now dim, with only a hint of awareness.

“Jeongguk? I'm here. Stay with me, love, come on.”

His hands move down to the wound on his alpha's side, a startled, hitching cry leaving him when
he's finally able to view the extent of the damage, swearing he can see the stark white of bone
beneath shredded skin. His hands shake violently when he packs it with snow, adding pressure
overtop, gifting his mate with a small, warbling smile when he lets out a soft groan at his
ministrations, a smile that’s nearly ruined by the sob that slips past Jimin's lips.

“There you are. See? You’re ok. We’re okay now.”

But even he can hear it, the doubt in his words as if knowing them to be a lie. Jeongguk has lost a
lot of blood, too much, until even the pain feels like a forgotten afterthought, replaced with the pull
to slip away.

Movement catches his eyes, and Jimin’s gaze shifts long enough to see Eunoia delicately land atop
the snow near Jeongguk’s hair, her small beak nipping affectionately at the lobe of his ear,
something broken in the noise she makes that further rips Jimin's heart to shreds.

“I need a healer!” He screams, directing it at anyone who’ll listen. “Someone! Get me a healer—”

His desperate cry is cut short when a freezing palm cups his cheek, and Jimin’s eyes immediately
fall back to Jeongguk, lids pulled tight until they’re unable to hold back his tears any longer,
spilling hot trails down his face that burn when he leans into the touch, lowering down to hear the
words his mate releases into the air.

"N-Not even death…could keep me from you," he rasps, and Jimin can barely see him through the
tears now, remembering those same words as the ones the alpha spoke to him when he was on his
own deathbed, and frames that beautiful face with his hands, wiping beneath the lids of his doe-
eyes as he stammers over his sobs when he responds in kind, reciting the promise he still
remembers.

"There is nowhere you could go that I will not follow."

 Jeongguk's lips curl up in a smile, a look crossing his features that is almost…peaceful, juxtaposed
to the dread that fills Jimin when his hand begins to fall from his cheek, heavy as Jimin catches it,
keeping it there like it'll somehow keep the alpha from slipping away, the lashes that adorn the lids
of those too-big eyes fluttering.

"Jeongguk?"

Jimin's gaze falls to his chest, desperately searching for the telling rise and fall that signals the
motion of breathing.

The alpha's chest appears still.

Jimin's eyes fly back up to his face, hands sinking into the long strands of midnight-colored hair
that spills across the snow like ink, and tries calling him again.

"Jeongguk!"

Silence is his only response, and it is in that quiet that Jimin's world falls apart.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter will be the last. Cry with me.

 A Voice in the Dark
Chapter Notes

So the final chapter ended up being over 30k, so I've broken it up into two. After this,
we'll have one more chapter to go and THEN it's the end. Thank you for sticking with
me.

Warnings for this chapter include mentions of attempted sexual assault and trauma, as
well as depression.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Snow falls almost lethargically from a sky stained gray, the large flakes clinging to the glass
surface of the windows that line the corridor leading up to the Great Hall. It piles steadily,
distorting the view of the outer courtyard beyond, where members of the pack have braved the
weather in order to gather in droves, their constant shifting giving away their discomfort. Jimin
can’t look at them, choosing instead to focus on the ice that branches out from the corners of the
pane he stands before, wondering if the heat from his own skin would be enough to melt it.

Palm up, he presses it against the frosted edges, expecting the freezing cold to bite into the
vulnerable skin until it burns.

But Jimin feels nothing.

Numb.

“My lord?”

Hand falling back down at his side, he slowly turns to take in Yoongi’s fully outfitted form
standing just a few feet away, only slightly disconcerted that he didn’t hear his approach. The
soldier's open expression is filled with concern, and underneath that, poorly hidden sympathy, pity.
It’s the same look everyone bestows upon him these days, and Jimin knows it’s because they care
for him, worry for him, but he can’t bear to see it anymore, those gazes acting as a mirror, a
reflection of what he’s lost.

“What is it?” He murmurs, turning back to the window where it’s safer, eyes rising towards the
silhouette of Soksagim Forest, those outstretched branches laden with white.

“It’s time.”

His gaze descends at those words, finally taking in the amassed crowd that waits below. It’s still
too difficult to look upon the numerous wooden frames that lie in wait just past their milling
figures, the sight bringing with it an ever expanding lump at the back of his throat that feels wet
and suffocating.

Reluctantly, he gives a nod.

Stepping away from the window, Jimin straightens his shoulders, reveling in the weight of the dark
fur cloak that rests atop them, wrapping him up in warmth. He’d soaked it for many hours in an
effort to get the blood out, but even so, it didn’t remove the scent of Jeongguk, rosemary and cloves
clinging to the garment and filling his senses, as if the alpha were here with him now, the
heaviness welcome.

The click of his boots echoes through the rafters above as he follows the guard into the Great Hall,
further still towards the doors that lead to the outer courtyard. He hasn’t been there since… since,
and his breath shortens at the sudden thought of returning, fearing he’ll soon hyperventilate—

Jimin nods his head over and over again, as if the motion could keep the panic and nausea at bay,
the physicality of it a distraction from his mental state. He doesn't completely manage it, but the
fear doesn't debilitate him either, remaining at a somewhat manageable level.

Eyes falling closed, he then shakes out his tingling hands and takes deep even breaths, in through
his nose, and out through his mouth, Jeongguk’s scent engulfing him while he brings the fur even
closer, the soothing effect instantaneous. He prepares as best he can in this way while the two
soldiers that frame the exit pull the doors open for them, snow flurrying inside in intricate swirls,
inevitably drifting to the floor where it melts. The cold sinks into his exposed skin before he even
steps out, his hitching breath a wisp-like cloud that dissipates after every exhale once they come
out onto the veranda, unable to stop his eyes from wandering to the left.

Haesoon’s blood has been washed away, no evidence of his presence remaining, but Jimin swears
he’s still there, pressing him against the railing as he’s forced to watch what transpired below. The
harsh, unwanted touch of the alpha's hands are seared into his skin like a burn that lingers even
now, humid breath fanning over his neck to incite revulsion that turns his stomach further with the
memory of what he was subjected to, tormenting him even after his death.

Decisively, Jimin looks away.

A tremor runs through his hand as he reaches for the banister, knuckles turning white once he grips
onto it, steadying himself with one final breath before he descends the stairs, head held high, eyes
forward, ignoring the countless melancholic stares from all those gathered that turn to follow his
progression, knowing that if he meets any of them he’ll shatter even more than he already has. His
feet don’t sink once they step down into the snow, a path recently shoveled and salted, allowing
for easy traversal through the opening in the crowd, pack members on either side of him, all
dressed in the color of mourning. He keeps going until he clears the mass, following Yoongi to the
two soldiers holding torches that are stationed just before the numerous wooden frames.

Slowly, Jimin turns back towards the gathering, hands clenching into the inner lining of the cloak,
and purposefully chooses a point beyond to direct his focus, taking in another deep breath before
he lets his words resonate throughout the yard.

“We’ve gathered today to honor the fallen," he starts, grateful that his voice doesn't waver. "Those
who selflessly laid down their lives to protect the pack. Good men and women. Alpha, beta, and
omega alike, whose absence has left a hole in all those who remain. We carry with us memories of
how they were in life, and in so doing they live on in death, returned to the earth from whence they
came, until the day we meet again.”

Jimin recites their names, drifting in the words of the family members and friends that step forward
to speak of them, to share some small piece of memory, of heart, giving the dead life for just a little
bit longer.
On and on it goes until the sound of weeping plays on a near constant loop, while Jimin's eyes stay
dry, despite the crushing sorrow that seems intent on pinning him down and tearing him apart.
Eventually the voices dwindle, the words cut off until only the wind howls between the trees like a
wolf lamenting its grief.

One of the soldiers passes a lit torch to Yoongi, who then passes it on to Jimin, unable to help but
get lost in the way the lilting breeze manipulates the flames to appear as if they dance. Yoongi's
unsubtle shifting in his peripheral vision is what breaks him from his stupor, turning towards the
pyres that hold the bodies of the dead while his heart lurches until his ribs ache in protest. He's
joined by others, the kin of their slain pack members stepping forward to light the wooden frames
that were so lovingly constructed.

Together they stand motionless, watching as the flames ignite and rise quickly, the collective heat
chasing away the chill, though it does nothing to relieve Jimin of that frozen numbness that has
taken over ever since that night, his new unwelcome and constant companion.

He can’t be sure how long he lingers watching the fires burn, those men and women devoured by
heat until they're physical bodies are transformed. Time slips away from him as it often does these
days, sometimes stretching painfully slow, while at others, it shifts from dawn to dusk within the
blink of an eye.

Jimin startles when Yoongi’s hand brushes his shoulder, unable to help flinching away, physical
contact still bringing with it unpleasant memories.

“Sorry,” the guard is quick to whisper so only they can hear, and Jimin immediately feels guilty
that he’s so…broken.

“No need to apologize,” he attempts to soothe, raising his brow while he waits for an explanation.

“The other pyre," the soldier starts cautiously, clearly uncomfortable. "They’re waiting.”
“Right,” he murmurs, taking one last look at the now roaring flames, the crackling wood drowning
out the quiet sobs of the remaining wolves that have yet to leave.

“My lord? Jimin,” Yoongi tries, sounding trepidatious, and he turns inquiring eyes back on the
alpha, granting him his full attention. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t force yourself. I can—”

“I want to,” Jimin softly interjects, holding Yoongi’s gaze, imploring him to understand when he
adds, “I need to.”

The soldier seems to deflate with a sigh, but relents with a nod, leading the way past the rest of the
gathered pack, beyond the Great Lodge where the heat of the pyres no longer surrounds them.
Together they turn the corner once they reach the end of the structure, and there, out of sight of the
rest, is a more crudely fashioned frame, in possession of none of the care or craftsmanship that was
shown to the rest of the pack.

This one is for the would-be usurpers.

Three men stand guard around it, one in possession of another torch, and the process repeats as it’s
first passed to Yoongi, and then carefully handed to Jimin.

The smell of death lingers in the air, beyond the crisp scent of winter and burning wood that drifts
on the wind. He approaches the crudely fashioned pyre, bodies haphazardly thrown on top of each
other in a nauseating pile that would usually pull on Jimin’s sympathy. But as his eyes land on one
body in particular, recognizing dull, rust-colored hair, a scarred chin, and a gaping hole where his
eye should be, Jimin stares at that lifeless figure and feels nothing. Hanyu is in there. So too is Eun,
along with Haesoon and the rest of the alpha’s from the north. Every wolf who rose against him
lay dead in that pile, no prisoners taken, even after some attempted to flee, or integrate back into
the pack as if nothing had happened, hoping their traitorous actions went unnoticed. But Jimin
remembered their faces—can't stop remembering their faces—their bodies soon to be removed
from this world until only their ghosts remain.
Jimin is already haunted by them.

He continues to stare at Doyun as he ignites the straw at the base, tosses the torch into the throng
once the flames begin to rise higher, refusing to look away from those lax features as the fire
surges around them, the heat unable to chase away the cold this time.

Jimin stands there until it burns to ash, until he can no longer feel Haesoon’s hands on him, nor
hear Doyun’s vile words in his ear.

He's there until the sun sinks down low, burning on the horizon across the treeline of the forest,
eager to meet the flames.

________________

Pausing just outside of the guarded door on the third floor, Jimin isn't concerned that the soldiers
that flank the frame bear witness to the way his eyes slip closed, or the deep, steadying breath he
takes in an attempt to collect himself before he raps his knuckles against the hard wooden surface.
When he hears a soft voice grant him entry on the other side, he opens the door as quietly as he can
and moves in, eyeing the still figure lying beneath the furs.

“He just fell asleep,” Seokjin murmurs from the armchair that’s been angled close to the bed, palm
flattening over the page of the book he'd been reading to mark his place, a strained smile wavering
over his lips.

Jimin is beyond tired of these looks. The ones that are hesitant and uncomfortable, at a loss for
what to say around him. They treat him as a glass figurine, careful with him, fragile in the way that
one wrong move will cause him to fracture.

He's already past that point.

Keeping his steps quiet, Jimin moves further into the room, taking up the second unoccupied chair
on the opposite side of the bed, gaze roaming over Namjoon’s still form, watching the way his
chest rises and falls with deep even breaths, and gaining comfort from the motion that he's learned
not to take for granted.

“How is he?”

“Does nothing but whine and complain when he’s awake,” Seokjin answers with a shake of his
head, but the affection in his softened features gives him away. “Hoseok said he’s healing well.
The armor he was wearing kept the blade from piercing too deeply. He’s lucky.”

Jimin nods, a spark of relief flooding him that is so fervid it nearly constricts his lungs, and shakily
he exhales, “That’s good to hear.”

The alpha nods, eyes shining before they steadily turn sympathetic again, and Jimin can't hold his
gaze, that relief quickly overtaken by something dark and tortured as it sinks down into the depths
of his stomach, able to predict where this is going, wishing more than anything that he could run
from it.

“And you? How are you doing?”

“We burned the dead today,” he answers, avoiding the real question, bogging it down beneath
more serious topics in order to take the focus off of him. “The majority of which were soldiers. His
men. His friends,” he whispers, nodding towards Namjoon, the numbness muting his sorrow. “He
would’ve wanted to be there.”

Seokjin’s own eyes lower down to the sleeping Captain, features somber.
“Yes, he would have,” he agrees, and they both silently mourn the loss for him.

“I had to hold a meeting in the Great Hall,” Jimin adds in monotone, the exhaustion of the last few
days, weeks, months suddenly weighing on him as heavily as Jeongguk’s fur cloak does. “Most of
the pack still had no idea what transpired that night, knew nothing of the traitors, or the rebellion.”

“I’m sorry you had to be the one to tell them,” Seokjin offers, but Jimin shakes his head.

“Not me,” he reveals. “Minhei begged to speak to them. Spent the morning recounting what Doyun
made him believe, and later, what he learned.”

“How did they take it?”

“Not well,” Jimin shrugs, finally meeting the alpha’s stare. “They’re still reeling from the losses
they’ve suffered.”

“We,” he gently corrects. “You’ve suffered too, Jimin.”

Gaze falling down to his lap, he gives a sharp shake of his head, unconsciously pulling the cloak
tighter around himself again.

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Are you two comfortable here? I know it’s not the barracks, but—”

“Jimin,” he interrupts, a firmness to his tone that forces him to look back up, “the room is perfect.
We’re alright now. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me?” He tries to huff, wanting nothing more than to shake off that concern, but once the words
“I’m fine” choke out of his mouth, it’s as if they turn to ash on his tongue, and Seokjin can see
right through him.

"You’re not fine," he argues, incredulous. "You walk the halls and you breathe like the rest of us,
but you're not fine. You blink and eat and even though you sit before me holding this conversation,
you're not here. Not really. You've become a ghost, Park Jimin."

The words should strike a nerve, have him scrambling to voice a denial, but he’s never been good
at arguing with the truth, and has no motivation to do so. Jimin remains quiet instead, the sound of
the piled wood crackling in the hearth as it’s eaten by the flames brings with it vivid memories of a
burning stable, horses screaming in their stalls. Of the fallen being swallowed up by the fire that
consumed their funeral pyres, and he can only pretend that it doesn't affect him.

There’s nothing he can say. Nothing in his repertoire that Jimin can offer in order to set Seokjin’s
mind at ease, because he’s right, and it’s not something either of them can change, nor fix. And so
he nods in acknowledgement, fingers burying in the dark fur that embraces him, digging into it
until they ache.

“How’s Jeongguk?”

It’s a question posed softly, but it may as well be a physical blow, the mere sound of that name
spoken aloud nearly his undoing, the lids of his eyes squeezing tight until spots erupt in the dark.

“There’s been no change. He sleeps,” Jimin replies, nearly unable to get the words out past the
lump in his throat that has returned.

It’s the only time he ever really feels anything, the emotion raw when it pertains to him.
“Hoseok says it's because his body is trying to heal and recover. That all of his energy is being
used towards that end. He lost a lot of blood. Too much," he whispers, "and I've given my own to
help sustain him, but we don't know if it's helped. He's unresponsive, and I've been cautioned that
if he remains so for too long…it is unlikely he'll ever wake up."

Jimin ignores the sharp intake of breath that echoes in his ears, ignores the way his heart aches in
his chest, and for his own sake, he ignores the optimism in the alpha’s tone when he attempts to
console him.

“Hoseok said 'unlikely.' That’s not a surety.”

“Nothing in this life is,” Jimin hums, meeting Seokjin’s gaze once more.

He can't do this. Can't talk about it, can't stay. Giving a small, decisive nod, he quickly regains his
feet.

“Forgive me, I have other things I must attend to, but please let me know if there’s anything the
two of you need."

Jimin can see how the alpha’s lips part, ready to protest and keep him there, keep him talking. But
he turns away before he can, and swiftly exits the room as if he’s being chased out, unable to
breathe until the door closes behind him, the physical barrier helping until he's able to put distance
between them. The journey up one floor doesn't take long, and Jimin travels the familiar route to
his father's chambers in a daze, slipping inside the double doors when the soldiers that stand guard
outside open them for him.

Haneul inclines her head once she makes note of his presence, Jimin returning the gesture just as
he takes measured steps towards his father’s bedside with soft footfalls and an even softer tone.
“Has he awoken today?”

“I’m awake,” a slurred voice murmurs, Jimin’s eyes sliding down to meet the alpha’s slightly
unfocused ones as they squeeze shut and then open.

It's the third time he's heard his voice in recent days, but the sound is still a bit of a shock, the alpha
appearing far more lucid than the previous occasions. In the aftermath of the failed rebellion, he
was given the same tea using the echinacea plant that Jeongguk retrieved, the remedy allowing for
steady but promising improvement ever since.

“Sorry father. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

The alpha waves his concern away and attempts to sit up, but Jimin gently urges him back down
again with a softly spoken, “Here, let me,” using several pillows to prop him into a reclined
position. Once settled, he tries his best to give a small smile when his father directs one at him,
unsure if he manages it or not.

“Water?” he rasps, and Jimin immediately gains his feet to fetch some for him, gently tipping the
mug against his dry lips until the older man is able to swallow three full drinks, nodding gratefully
to signal that he’s done.

Setting the cup back down on the chest near the bed, Jimin returns to his side while the alpha does
his best to shift and get comfortable.

“Haneul tells me I’ve been sick a long while, but she refuses to say much more,” he reveals with an
almost petulant look on his face as he eyes the old healer in accusation, but she simply ignores the
pointed stare.

They made an agreement to keep everything that had transpired from the alpha, at least until he's
able to gain a bit more strength, the beta warning that too much information of such a grave and
serious matter would negatively affect his recovery, and so Jimin shrugs in response, as if there's
not much more to say.

“We thought we’d lost you,” he whispers truthfully, not wanting to lie to him any more than
necessary. “But the only thing that matters is you’re getting better.”

That seems to appease him.

“You’ve taken up the role of leader in my absence?”

“I have.”

He smiles again, and with his next words Jimin shatters a little bit more, already riddled with
cracks.

“Then the pack has been in good hands.”

His throat clicks as he struggles to swallow, only just managing to keep the warble out of his voice
when he mouths, “Thank you father.”

“All is well?”

“All is well.”

Perhaps it was the pause he took before affirming the words, but the alpha’s brow creases ever so
slightly, his deep brown eyes searching Jimin’s features.
“Where is Namjoon? Should he not be here with you? I need to be updated on the guard—”

“He’s busy in the barracks. And I’m still seeing to and taking care of all official matters. All you
need to focus on is regaining your strength.”

His father hesitates, but finally relents, sinking further into the cushions and furs that surround him
while studying Jimin's features, searching for answers to unspoken questions. His eyes narrow
slightly in a way that sparks Jimin's memory of his childhood, receiving that same look whenever
he attempted to hide his wrongdoings, the alpha somehow always able to see right through him.

“I’ve been told that whatever ails me has diminished my senses. But even I can smell the fire and
smoke that clings to you.”

Jimin blinks, and it takes all of his control to keep his expression one of carefully crafted stoicism
when he gives an explanation.

“Regrettably, the stables caught fire due to carelessness. We suffered no casualties, but come
spring we’ll have to rebuild. For now the horses are sharing the barn with the rest of the livestock
to wait out the winter.”

It isn't a lie, his father can tell as much, concern easily recognizable in those strong features that
reveals his acceptance of the story. Still, Jimin can also identify the restlessness in him, and though
he’s been assured that all is well, the alpha has clearly become tense with the news, undoubtedly
wanting to see for himself that everything is as it should be.

His very nature is exactly why he cannot know the truth. Not yet. And Jimin is well aware that if
he remains in the man's presence it'll only be a matter of time before he realizes that something is
terribly wrong.
“I’m sorry father, I know my visit was brief,” Jimin sighs apologetically, “but I must return to my
duties. I’ll have some soup brought up for you and some more tea. If you have need of me, inform
Haneul and she’ll send word.”

Haneul nods from her rocking chair, milky eyes still focused on her knitting, and the alpha—
though disappointed—hums in agreement with hooded lids just as Jimin regains his feet, doing his
best to ignore that piercing stare. He turns and graces the healer with a grateful look on his way
out, hand held aloft while he reaches for the door, frozen where he stands when his father calls to
him.

“Jimin?”

Slowly, he turns back, caught in the alpha’s perceptive eyes, the scar that runs the length of the left
gleaming in the light from the windows, and waits for him to continue.

“I’m proud of you, my son.”

That lump in his throat grows until speaking becomes an impossibility. There’s so much he wishes
to say, so much he wants to tell him. To weep and mourn about the blows their pack has suffered.
To have those tears wiped away as he’s assured that it’ll all be alright. That his father will take care
of it, just like when he was a pup…

But his lips remain sealed, the tears refuse to fall, and he’s only able to respond with a small tilt of
his chin before he slips out the door.

________________

They have a feast that night to honor the dead, and though Jimin possesses no appetite, he attends,
sitting on the near-empty dias to raise a glass to the endless toasts that are made as stories are
recounted, and resolutely keeps from glancing at the unoccupied chairs beside him. He stays well
into the night, shocked when every single wolf in attendance stands once he gains his feet to finally
retire, their gazes filled with what he can only describe as reverence and…

Loyalty.

It sparks something in him, a lightning strike in the middle of the tumultuous sea, like a light in the
dark, brief, but there all the same.

He inclines his head at the pack, inviting them to stay as long as they wish before quietly taking his
leave, Yoongi at his side when they move out into the hall to travel up the stairs towards his room
on the fourth floor.

“How was he today?” He murmurs, the alpha immediately knowing who it is he's referring to,
whatever hope Jimin had managed to drum up dissipating with the guard's sigh.

“He still doesn’t want to go back to his chambers. I do not blame him, not after what happened, I’m
only sorry for the inconvenience it must be for you. There are other rooms. We could—”

“It’s no inconvenience,” Jimin reassures for what must be the tenth time. “Taehyung can stay as
long as he needs. I would never force him to return to a place that brings him discomfort.”

“I know. We're grateful to you, truly,” Yoongi assures, and though Jimin can feel his gaze, he still
can't meet it.

If he could bring himself to speak on the subject, Jimin would further set the alpha at ease by
revealing how he can no longer stomach being in his own room either. Not when he looks towards
the center of his chambers and sees Eun lying dead by his arrow. Or how there, at the foot of the
bed is where Haesoon first laid his hateful hands on him. And just to the right, in the corner, lies
Jeongguk, bound and bleeding beside Namjoon and Seokjin, painful cries released through gritted
teeth as his skin is cut into—
“Are you alright?” Yoongi asks, jolting Jimin out of his thoughts, confusion filling him when he
realizes they’ve made it to the entrance of the room that he no longer stays in, soldiers standing
like statues in the corridor.

“I’m fine,” he answers with a lack of conviction, hating those words and how often he has to speak
them. “If he’s still awake, please tell him I’ll visit tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Yoongi nods, lips parting, seemingly wanting to say more, though he appears unable
to get the words out.

Jimin is weary of such things. Everyone he converses with exhibits the same hesitance, as if they
carry words on the tips of their tongues, longing for them to spill free, though they never do, the
quiet far louder than any silence.

They just don’t know what to say, his mind supplies, but it does little to set him at ease.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmurs in farewell, the alpha offering an equally soft goodbye.

Before he enters the next room over, he makes the request to one of the guards that a bath be made
ready for him, a soldier leaving to see it done, while the other pulls the door open.

Stepping inside, the chambers are dim with only a few lit candles and the fire roaring in the hearth
to illuminate the space, but even so, Jimin’s eyes adjust quickly, drawn to the figure on their bed,
and he breaks just a little bit more.

Jeongguk lies still, the only movement coming from the shallow rise and fall of his chest with his
uneven breaths, in the same exact position as the one he was in this morning when Jimin
reluctantly left the room. Above him, perched atop the wooden bedframe, a tuft of white shakes
out ruffled feathers and stretches, catching his attention. Eunoia refuses to leave Jeongguk’s side so
long as Jimin is absent, forgoing taking care of even herself until he returns in the evening,
watching over the alpha when he can’t.

Some days, it nearly tears him apart that he's unable to simply lock himself in here with his
slumbering mate. Ignore what’s expected of him, uncaring of the pack and their needs just so he
could sleep at Jeongguk’s side, stagnant and unresponsive until the day he finally opens his eyes,
or the day he—

But he can’t, and Eunoia seems to understand, spreading her wings and taking flight to land on
Jimin’s outstretched arm in greeting. She’s unbelievably soft when he runs two fingers down her
front, those pinkish red eyes blinking up at him, gently nipping at the pads in affection before she
retires to her wooden house where Jimin keeps a steady supply of both water and food, as she
refuses to leave to hunt, remaining in the room no matter how many times he opens the window for
her.

Nodding to Hoseok who sits at the alpha’s bedside, Jimin grabs the pitcher of water on top of the
chest of drawers and brings it to the fireplace, pouring the majority in the small cauldron that hangs
over the flames in order to warm it, the beginning of his new nightly routine. Moving back towards
the bed, his eyes trace over Jeongguk’s form once more, not allowing himself to linger—he never
does, not yet—and helps the beta with the feeding tube, leaving him to it once it’s in place, and
going back to the water before it gets too hot while the healer funnels a portioned amount of fluids
to his mate’s stomach.

Carefully bringing the water back over to the chest, Jimin waits until Hoseok is finished before
also retrieving a handful of terry cloths, avoiding the sight of the tube being removed before
stepping forward. Together, they maneuver the alpha to easily divest him of his clothes,
unwrapping the bandage around his torso so the beta can inspect his wound.

“Good. It’s better than it was.”

He says that every time, the words no longer inspiring that spark of hope that used to carry Jimin
through to tomorrow.
Together they bathe him with soaked cloths in lukewarm water, Jimin using the soap that smells of
his own polianthes, unable to quiet that small part of him that longs for the scent to somehow get
through to the alpha. To bring him back.

But it never does.

Once he’s been washed, Hoseok applies the disinfectant and then the salve, allowing Jimin to get a
good look at the injury. It does look better, in the sense that he can no longer see any of the stark
white bones of his ribs—which he was informed were the only things keeping the fire poker from
damaging vital organs. Though the skin has fully reformed, it's still red and raw, his body working
tirelessly to heal, the matching gashes on the backs of his calves closing far quicker in comparison.

Jimin helps hold him up while the healer rebandages him, and together they work to redress the
alpha in clean clothes, finishing by changing the bedding before laying him back down again.

A knock at the door signals the arrival of the bath, but Jimin remains where he is, continuing to
tend to Jeongguk, the beta opening it in his stead. He keeps running the brush through the long,
dark strands of his mate's hair, listening to the sounds of the healer gathering his belongings, joined
by that of the staff as they bring in the tub and carefully set it down in the middle of the room.
They exit with a respectful bow that he returns with a grateful nod, that unnerving silence returned.

When Jimin glances Hoseok's way he's openly staring with a weathered, yet familiar kind of
sorrow that seems to emanate from his eyes, shifting awkwardly where he stands with a fidgeting
grip on his satchel bag, hesitating to take his leave as well.

He should be used to the looks by now. They shouldn't affect him as much as they do. And yet…

Like so many others, it's painfully clear he wants to say something, yet for whatever reason seems
to think better of it in the end.

“Goodnight, Jimin. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, choosing to keep his focus on his alpha, but he does give another incline of
his head in acknowledgement, transfixed by the way the silky strands slip smoothly through the
bristles, free of tangles since Jeongguk doesn’t toss or turn. They curl around his wrist, a small
tether that overwhelms the precarious grip he has on his emotions.

The sound of the door opening and closing marks the beta’s departure, and Jimin and Jeongguk are
finally left alone. His hands shift, the hair slipping from his skin when he sets the brush down
silently on the bedside table, remaining there for a moment, drifting…

Too much time has passed when he finally regains his feet, moving towards his mother’s old
vanity near the windows, and carefully removes the heavy, midnight-colored fur cloak he wears
these days, folding it over the back of the oak chair that sits before it. The room isn't cold, the fire
sees to that, but still he shivers once he disrobes, meticulously removing the numerous pins from
his hair that hold it in place, the silvery-white locks slowly falling down his back, tickling his bare
skin as he moves. Almost immediately his head begins to ache from the release in tension, the
weight of constantly piling the thick mass high atop his head finally catching up with him. This is
the only time he allows it free, at night, in the safety of this room, and for what must be the
dozenth time he eyes the shears that rest next to the looking glass, the desire to cut it all off flaring
up again.

He ignores it, for now, his bath water likely already gone tepid, and as he sinks into it he’s proven
right, quickly cleaning his teeth with tooth powder before washing his hair and scrubbing the day
away. He wrings water from the dripping mass as he steps out of the tub, the terry cloth soft on his
skin when he wraps himself up in it before moving to sit naked on the fur rug in front of the fire.
There he remains still, letting the heat dry the moisture on his skin as well as his hair, losing track
of time once more while he stares at the constantly shifting flames, funeral pyres flashing before
his eyes.

Jimin forces himself to dress and brush the knots from his tangled hair until it runs smooth, nearly
trembling once he climbs into bed next to Jeongguk, holding his breath as he finally allows himself
to really look at the alpha.

His countenance is pale, but other than that, Jimin could fool himself into believing that he merely
sleeps, succumbing to exhaustion after trying and failing to wait up for him. And on some nights,
when the loneliness and agony threatens to consume him, that’s exactly what he does. Carefully, as
if in danger of rousing him, he burrows into Jeongguk’s right side, head resting on his chest, hand
placed over his heart, counting the slow thumps and hearing the echo of it with the ear pressed over
his ribcage.

It’s his only comfort, the sound of that evidence of life.

Jimin traces shapes over his skin, indulging in a deep inhale, vision gone blurry with unshed tears
when his sensitive nose can barely pick up on the scent of rosemary and cloves. This room used to
be blanketed in it. Now he's lucky if he catches the barest hint.

“We laid the dead to rest today,” he murmurs, keeping up this one sided conversation every night
without fail, remembering the bits and pieces of dialogue that trickled into his own unconscious
mind while he suffered from the effects of the poison. Vividly recalls his will strengthening each
time he heard Jeongguk’s voice, and hopes to provide the same.

“Then I set fire to the bodies of those who hurt us,” he whispers, arms tightening around
Jeongguk's waist, that lump in his throat once again making it difficult to speak. “I don’t want to
see their faces when I close my eyes anymore. Or feel their hands, hear their voices…I watched
them burn to ash, and prayed to the gods that it erased their influence, but I’m not so sure if they’ll
ever be gone.”

His eyes fill with tears that still refuse to fall, but even so Jimin hates them, hates that he’s still so
marked by what happened, that it's likely he always will be. Hates that he can’t stop the trauma
from debilitating him, and the one person he desires comfort from still balances precariously on the
cusp of death’s door, with one foot in the entryway and one on the stoop, as if he can’t decide if
he’ll stay or go—

“Please come back. Come back to me, Jeongguk. I need you.”

The silence follows him down into sleep, a response all on its own.

________________
The nightmares don't leave him alone for long. They’ve evolved to include new horrors, the touch
of unwanted hands pulling at him, threats carried from the growling maw of a wolf’s snout as teeth
sink deeper into his limbs, holding him still, forced to watch as another black wolf falls and
Jeongguk is savaged.

Jimin remains in bed when his eyes fly open, waiting until the rapid beating of his heart and the
heaving of his chest has returned to normal, arms tightening around his mate, ignoring the way he
wants to cry, but can't. The way he wants to scream, but stays silent. He lies still, watching the sky
lighten out the windows as the sun brings the dawn, only then does he slip away from his love with
a kiss to his brow, stomach clenching when Eunoia immediately takes his place. He dresses
quickly, favoring dark, comfortable leather that he tops with the heavy weight of the black fur
cloak, giving in to the urge to nuzzle into that softness, the smell of rosemary and cloves crashing
over him until he swears he can feel himself become covered in the scent.

It steadies Jimin as much as it causes his omega to give a mournful cry, a plea to his alpha that
Jeongguk can neither hear nor answer, the anguish of which feels far more heavier and real than
that of the fur.

He's getting faster at pinning his hair up in a tight knot atop his head, meticulously restraining each
and every strand so that none fall free, eyes sliding to the shears once more, fingers trembling with
the effort to keep from reaching for them.

Using them.

He remains at Jeongguk’s side until Hoseok knocks on the door, slowly rising to his feet to answer
it, his body just as reluctant as he is.

Their greetings are short, Hoseok’s observant gaze roving over his face with parted lips, likely
cataloging the dark rings around his eyes, his sunken cheeks and lack of color. He doesn’t
comment on it though, knowing his plea for the omega to take better care of himself will fall on
deaf ears.
Together they change Jeongguk’s bandage, reapplying the disinfectant as well as the salve before
rewrapping the wound. There's more improvement, it's true, the red swelling gone down even
further, the new skin less wet and angry. But Jimin is afraid. Afraid to be optimistic.

With one last look towards the bed, he leaves the healer, Eunoia, and his mate, traveling down the
hall a short distance towards the door to his room, Yoongi already standing just outside.

“He's awake. He's asked to speak with you. Alone,” the soldier adds, and Jimin nods, already used
to this.

There’s a tremor to his hands as he runs them down Jeongguk’s cloak, a dryness to his throat that
has him longing for water, taking a small steadying breath before reaching for the handle and
pushing the door open. Taehyung is seated on one of the large armchairs before the fire, the flames
reaching high in the hearth to warm the space. Jimin is unable to keep his gaze from wandering as
he softly shuts the door behind him, eyes landing on the metal stand that holds several implements,
the fire poker among them.

He can still smell the blood in the air.

Shaking his head, he approaches the other omega, silently reciting over and over again that it’s just
his mind playing tricks on him. The blood is gone, scrubbed away. It’s not there, it’s not—

Taehyung watches him, a small crease to his brow that deepens before realization seems to dawn,
his inquisitive expression morphing into one of remorse.

“We can go somewhere else,” he's quick to offer, voice hoarse from disuse, and Jimin shakes his
head.
“You’re comfortable here.”

“But you’re not.”

He considers it, unable to help the small self-deprecating smile that barely curls his lips upward.

“To be honest, I’m no longer comfortable in my own skin, I doubt a change of scenery will help.”

Taehyung continues to stare at him with a penetrative gaze, and something like understanding
flashes in those deep eyes, the other omega giving a somber nod before he turns back to the flames,
the air heavy between them.

This is the most they’ve spoken since it happened. Not for lack of trying on both their parts, it’s
just—the words are hard to find, and though it might be awkward for some, they’ve found comfort
in the silence just as surely as they have in each other’s presence, neither one of them rushing to fill
it with noise.

Today is different.

The quiet stretches, but Jimin feels as if he stands before a deep, endless chasm, with him on one
side and Taehyung on the other, a new kind of anticipation forming a bridge between them, the
breath he was holding released in a rush when the other omega cautiously speaks again.

“I've been trying to come to terms with it,” he admits, eyes narrowing as if there’s something in the
fire only he can see. “What happened,” he elaborates without needing to. “It’s over, and I keep
thinking it’ll go away if I’m patient, if I wait long enough…but it won’t. I can still feel him on me,
can still smell him,” he chokes out, tone laden with disgust. “I stopped him but he won't leave my
skin. I killed him but it’s like he didn’t die.”
Jimin's throat closes up, those tears that still won't fall filling along his lash line while the
confession pulls at his heart, able to fully empathize with the sentiment, his own experience
continuing torture him.

“I don’t know if they’ll ever go away,” he admits, voice quivering while he stares out the window
with an unfocused gaze, barely able to discern the flurry of snow that falls beyond. “But I pray that
they do.”

Taehyung turns to stare at him, something that feels like discovery in his gaze.

“They.”

“What?”

“You said they.”

Jimin’s reaction is minimal, holding the other omega’s eyes with his own, offering no denial, and
Taehyung’s breath catches, overly loud, clear pain crossing his features as if he's been gravely
wounded.

“Jimin…what happened to you?”

He’s quiet for a moment, can't look away from that desperate expression—so different from the
ones he usually receives, and yet similar—as if pleading with him to disprove his suspicions, a pain
in his gut twisting when he is unable to do so.

“The same thing that happened to you.”

The air leaves Taehyung in a rush, his distress turning his bergamot and citrus scent more acidic
and sour, a hand reaching towards him to comfort before he flinches back, remembering his
aversion to touch. Jimin is both heartbroken and grateful for it, his own avoidance of physical
contact an identical mark on him that was left by Haesoon’s hands.

“Tell me,” Tae implores, and Jimin feels his lips part, the words spilling from him before he even
realizes what he’s doing, the embodiment of a riverbank that can no longer hold back the flood of
its rising waters.

“The leader of the alphas from the north,” he starts quietly, barely there, “tried to force himself on
me while I watched Jeongguk bleed out in the courtyard.”

The memory plays in vivid images before his eyes, stomach twisting further until he's sure he's
going to be sick, lungs held in a vice-like grip that makes breathing difficult, the sound of the other
omega calling his name unable to snap him out of it, continuing even as he’s held captive in that
visceral recollection, the smell of blood making him even more nauseas.

“I can still feel his hands on me as he ripped at my clothing, hear Jeongguk cry out below. I can
still feel his pain…”

Jimin gets lost again, having to physically shake his head before he continues.

“I was able to partially transform, and Eunoia arrived just in time to distract him. I shoved my hand
through his throat. Killed him, and then Doyun. That’s when you and Yoongi arrived.”

The perfunctory retelling is stilted and lacks the horror of the details, but it’s all he can give right
now, all he can handle. Yet even so a small weight lifts from his shoulders, as if he no longer has to
carry the burden of that memory alone, the way he has done all this time since it happened.
He doesn’t hear Taehyung move until he’s right in front of him, and Jimin stares up at the emotion
that seems to leak out from his eyes the same way that his tears do, frightened, and yet holding
firm with his next request.

“Jimin, can I…can I scent you?”

It's a brave thing to offer, given their mutual aversion, and the fact that he’s so obviously scared
and unsure to do so even though it's them breaks Jimin a little bit more. But it also prepares him,
gets him used to the idea as opposed to someone who means well doing so without thought.
Tentatively, he nods, gaining his feet to make it easier, and Taehyung slowly closes the distance
with that same hesitation.

He wraps Jimin up in his arms like he's forgotten how to hold someone, easing into it when he
brings him close enough to fit their bodies together, the perfect height to allow Jimin to burrow into
his neck as if he was made to be there. Jimin chokes down pitiful cries that don't fully form as the
tension in their bodies is slowly siphoned out, that familiar scent falling over him like a blanket in
the cold, soothing his chaotic emotions until for once, the noise in his head falls silent, every worry
put to rest until there’s just…

Peace.

He’s a pup again, his mother and brother recently gone, and Taehyung has just snuck into his room
to climb up onto his massive, empty bed. He rocks Jimin through the night, scenting him and
gently brushing away his tears, breathing promises in his ear to always be there when he has need
of him.

To never leave.

The memory is coated in grief, and yet an equally happy one, a reminder of their bond and the
trials they've gone through and faced together. His arms tighten at the thought, feeling the way
Taehyung's tears fall on his neck while his own remain dry, as if he's incapable of expelling them.
Still, he already feels better for telling someone, and he hopes that this is as cathartic for the other
as it is for him.
When they finally pull apart, Taehyung's eyes are swollen, nose red, and Jimin returns the small
wobbly smile that’s gifted to him, though it quickly turns sad with the way the other omega's eyes
trace over the mark on Jimin's neck that brands him as claimed.

“He’ll wake up,” he suddenly says like another impossible promise, and Jimin feels that odd
sensation that courses through him whenever Jeongguk is mentioned, the one that seems to chase
away the numbness until he nearly chokes with it, made worse as Taehyung reaffirms, “He will.”

It’s not a surety, no matter how much they all wish it were. The truth is Jeongguk may never wake
up, suspended on the edge of death simply because Jimin remains. Perhaps he waits for him there,
in that limbo for the day that Jimin will join him.

________________

“I told Taehyung today,” he reveals to Jeongguk that night when the dreams won’t let him sleep
again, tracing directly over his heartbeat while turning his head to bury his nose in his hair, words
coming out muffled while he struggles to catch a whiff of rosemary and cloves before shakily
continuing.

“Not in detail, not—I don’t know if I ever could. But I told him. Felt good to tell someone, and he
went through something similar.”

Taking a deep breath, he presses on.

“It’s changed us. That’s something I didn’t account for. That it would take a piece of me, a piece
that I feel empty without. A piece that made me who I am. I don’t know me anymore.”
He looks up, transfixed by the way white-silvery locks of hair mix with midnight black, and for
once he doesn’t desire to cut it, eyes moving higher until they fall to Jeongguk’s closed lids, long
eyelashes kissing his cheeks.

“Would you still know me?” he whispers as if the sound could wake him, hand coming up to
conform to Jeongguk's cheek, tracing over the bow of those lips with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m not so sure anymore.”

________________

The pack keeps him occupied, and Jimin works tirelessly to ensure that every member who lost
their home in the fire is given other accommodations, offering up every available room they have
in the lodge before making use of volunteers who don’t mind sharing their space with their fellow
packmates. He visits them, listening to their stories, what they suffered, the frustration they feel,
and tries to set them at ease, while also attempting to salvage whatever the fire didn’t fully destroy,
drawing up plans and consulting with the woodcutters in the hopes to rebuild come the spring.

He sees the way their eyes are drawn to his mating mark, his pinned-up hair leaving the bite
exposed and stark against his skin like a beacon in the dark.

Let them see. Let them know.

There was no formal mating ceremony as pack tradition dictates, and maybe before he would’ve
worried over the repercussions of being discovered. But now, he can’t find it in himself to care.
Jimin expects complaints, fully prepared to sit in his father’s chair on the dias and listen to rants
about the importance of holding up the sacred customs of mating. But instead, he’s offered
sympathy and condolences, the pack able to discern rather quickly who his mate is, their sadness
for him coloring their features whenever they broach the subject, spilling from their eyes like tears
those same tears he's incapable of, and Jimin can't bare to look at them, not when his heart is more
used to being numb.
Because this hurts.

He escapes from it when he can, and sometimes, when he’s really set adrift, Jimin finds himself
drawn to the quiet of the cellar, dismissing the guards until he’s left alone with the only prisoner.

Minhei locked himself in before the attempted siege came to an end. Doesn’t know the entire
outcome, nor does he fully understand what Jimin has lost, the bond he shares with Jeongguk still
mostly unknown. And so he doesn’t look at Jimin with the same sadness or pity. No, he looks at
him with guilt and remorse, and a little bit with confusion, unsure as to why he stations himself
before his cell.

“Do you come down here to punish me? Because if you do, it’s working.”

“My presence is a punishment? Ahhhh," he hums in understanding, drawing out the word, "I'm a
reminder of what you’ve done.”

Minhei appears ashamed, remaining quiet as he fiddles nervously with his fingers, and Jimin
decides to be candid.

“I come down here because you’re the only person who isn’t sleeping that I can be around.”

Minhei’s frown deepens, so too does his confusion, knees coming up to his chest as he pulls the
blanket tighter around himself.

“How could you stand to be around me? I nearly killed you.”

It gets so cold down here, and Jimin feels muted sympathy tug at him until he stands. He stokes the
fire, and passes another blanket to the young beta between the bars, retaking his seat on the
wooden bench in front of the cell after it's accepted.

“Nearly isn’t quite as serious as dead.”

He should know, unable to convince himself most days that he’s truly alive, stuck in that same in-
between that Jeongguk is.

The boy wraps the second blanket around himself, flashing him a look of gratitude before body
curls up, obviously distressed.

“You’re too forgiving. You shouldn’t be so kind to me.”

“Would you prefer I mistreat you instead?”

The beta trembles, eyes going wide, and Jimin hates himself for causing him fear, even after
everything, he hates himself for it. With a weary sigh, he attempts to be reassuring.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I don’t believe in cruelty.”

“I would be deserving of it.”

“There are a lot of things we’re deserving or undeserving of,” he murmurs, staring into the depths
of the fire. “Tragedy befalls one who is just, while luck strikes the wicked. Perhaps we put too
much faith in karma to enact retribution, when the only real surety in life is that death comes for us
all.”
Minhei gapes at him, Adam's apple bobbing when he swallows.

“When will it come for me?”

Jimin gifts him with a sad smile that only just manages to curl the corners of his lips and shakes his
head.

“Not today.”

________________

Jimin recounts his time with Minhei to Jeongguk, imagines how surly he’d be if he were awake,
knowing they likely wouldn't see eye to eye on him going down to the cellar to see him. Maybe
they would even argue about it, and the thought for some reason is an amusing one, a melancholic
smile tugging at his lips, his alpha's protectiveness never failing to have warmth kindling in the pit
of his stomach.

So it's no surprise that the silence leaves him cold, but he still divulges little things about his day,
revealing trivial bits of information that would otherwise hold no significance, the act of sharing it
with his mate giving importance to these events that they otherwise wouldn't have.

It feels good to talk about, allowing Jimin to envision what Jeongguk would say in response, what
questions he'd ask, and finds himself answering aloud, going into more and more detail, sharing
secrets in the dim light of their room.

For a few brief seconds during these instances, it feels like he's there, listening, and Jimin fools
himself to survive.
Yoongi escorts him to Namjoon’s room the following morning, the alpha requesting an audience,
and he knows there’s no amount of preparing himself for this, almost desperate enough to want to
avoid it entirely.

When he enters, Seokjin moves away from the Captain quickly, but Jimin can still see the way
they were holding hands even if they do so no longer, and a small bit of that warmth he
periodically feels is returned even if he doesn’t outwardly show it.

Seokjin gains his feet, nearly stammering once he excuses himself.

“I’m going down to the kitchens to get us something to eat. I’ll be back in a bit.”

It’s disconcerting to watch the soft nod and smile that Namjoon directs at him, so used to seeing
the two argue, constantly at odds, but Jimin hopes this new change in behavior continues, quietly
taking up an empty chair next to his guard's bedside as both Yoongi and Seokjin take their leave,
neither of them speaking until they are alone.

“Jeongguk,” the Captain immediately questions, and Jimin feels a sharp pang immediately
overtake that small bit of warmth, snuffing it out. “How is he?”

Gaze falling down to his hands, he traces the life line in his palm, adding pressure and digging his
nail in where it sharply ends as he shakes his head.

“He hasn’t stirred, not since that night.”

Jimin can’t look at Namjoon, not even when he seeks out his gaze.

“Not all is lost,” the alpha tries to reassure, but Jimin can find no comfort in it when the soldier
continues. “You’re still well. If it were as bad as you fear your connection would’ve pulled you
into the same state.”

“Maybe the book overembellished things,” he argues without an ounce of fight to his voice. “Or
maybe I’m the reason he hasn’t passed on when he should’ve, like a shackle keeping him tied to
this world.”

“If that’s the case it’s because he fights to recover so that he may remain here with you. You didn’t
see the way he was after you were poisoned. I did. He’d raise hell to find you. To return to your
side.”

Jimin doesn’t want to talk about this. Doesn’t want to embrace the pain that threatens to smother
him at the mere mention of his mate, his wolf crying out in a heartbreaking howl of longing,
beyond deafening and unanswered.

“You’re imprinted,” Namjoon reminds, none the wiser even as Jimin's vision clouds over. “Don’t
let him feel that you’ve given up on him. That you’ve lost hope. Let him know that you wait for
him.”

If Jeongguk were to never wake, there would always be a part of Jimin that waits for him. One that
would never stop yearning for his return. Even as he knows he cannot carry on without him. How
could he? How is he meant to live in a world without light, without color or emotions? It’s like
asking someone to breathe without lungs.

The tears don’t fall, and he pushes away that overwhelming agony, carefully recrafting his mask to
put it in place for when he finally looks up at the other alpha, hating the familiar sadness he sees
mirrored back at him when he so bluntly changes the subject in an act of self-preservation.

“And you? How fares your wound?”

For a moment, Namjoon looks as if he’ll remain steadfast, that he'll force Jimin to face what he is
only able to in the solitude of that room where Jeongguk sleeps, and the lights are always dim. But
then the alpha gives in with a weighted exhale, more than aware of how stubborn he is, more than
used to the fact that if he doesn't want to answer, he won't.

“I’m out of the worst of it. I’ve even been told I’ll be on my feet again soon.”

“I’m glad to hear it, and I’m sure Yoongi will be as well,” he tries to jest, only his lack of
amusement has it falling short of its mark, even to his own ears.

“I’m worried about you,” Namjoon suddenly admits, rendering him speechless as he tries to form a
decent rebuttal, but fails, his silence allowing for the alpha to continue uninterrupted. “You were
never given adequate time to recover from the poisoning, and instead have been forced to keep
going and going for the sake of others. You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he softly proclaims,
reaching out before quickly retracting his hand when Jimin flinches, a look of shock morphing into
one of apology as he changes course to trace beneath his own eye, pointing out the darkened,
bruise-like circles that Jimin knows he carries on his skin. “You should be resting still.”

“I don’t have that luxury,” he responds with an absent shrug. “My father is still bedridden, and my
mate is unresponsive. The pack needs a leader now more than ever, when so many have been
displaced and are still reeling from the attempted rebellion. Someone has to guide them.”

Pride wars with sorrow in the alpha’s features, and Jimin changes the subject again, unable to
endure that kind of attention.

“It’s a nice change to see you and Seokjin getting along.”

Namjoon’s cheeks turn pink.

“I was wounded protecting him. He merely feels indebted to me and obligated to ensure my
wellbeing.”
“Oh? Is that also why you two were holding hands before I walked in?"

The Captain’s blush deepens, and it’s his turn to look away, unable to meet Jimin’s curious stare,
and he feels compelled to reassure him.

"I highly doubt obligation is what’s kept him at your side every minute of every day since it
happened. Perhaps it’s time for you to discuss the nature of your relationship,” he softly
encourages, watching the way Namjoon’s body seems to deflate.

“I’m scared he’ll leave, and I’ve already become addicted to his presence,” he quietly admits, and
Jimin tries with everything he has to offer him a comforting expression, unsure if he’s able to
accomplish it or not.

“If you want him, you need to tell him. As it stands, you’ve both been denying your wolves by
refusing each other. He’s not yours, and you’re not his. What have you got to lose?”

The alpha is quiet, contemplative, and with another drawn out sigh, he nods, accepting the advice,
maybe even coming to a decision. Jimin lets him keep it to himself, but he does leave him with one
last thought.

“Don’t worry about any potential objections from the pack. They’re well aware that I’m mated,
and so far I haven’t heard a word of outrage despite my lack of ceremony. Besides, if another
rebellion ensues over the matter, I quashed the last one, I’m confident I could do so again.”

Namjoon shakes his head, his smile small, but there’s a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before,
and Jimin is sure he’ll make the right choice.

________________
“He thinks I’ve given up on you,” Jimin whispers later that night as he lies against Jeongguk’s
side, hand to his mate's heart, face pressed to his neck right over his scent gland, the cloves more
prominent than the rosemary, yet still faint.

Slowly, he draws a star over the thump thump thump of that pulse, the same stars he used to chart
like constellations in the alpha’s eyes.

“I could never,” he swears, palm flattening again.

He moves in closer with the fanciful thought that if he does so he'll sink inside Jeongguk's body,
phase through like something incorporeal, impossible as it is. Maybe if he did, he could find what's
broken or missing, mend him from the inside and finally wake him from his deep sleep, just like
those fairy tales his mother used to read to him. And if he couldn't, he'd simply remain, curled up
inside the alpha's body as he breathes for the both of them, never to be separated again.

No, Jimin could never give up on Jeongguk.

He places a kiss to his mate’s neck, right over his mark, imagines he feels a residual flutter on his
own and falls a little deeper into resignation.

“But I think I’m giving up on me.”

________________

Many hours are spent pouring over the reports he receives detailing the damage dealt to the village
and the materials needed to repair it all. It's going to require a lot more trees from the forest, the
image of that field of stumps flashing in his mind, Eunoia's home destroyed, Jeongguk's
disappointed face…

There might be a way to minimize their impact on nature come the spring, and Jimin speaks at
length with the woodcutters to begin strategizing on where to start, deciding to repair the less
severely damaged homes first to get them out of the way before moving on to more lengthy
projects, like those that burned down entirely, as well as the demolishing and reconstructing new
stables.

In between meetings with the pack, Jimin tries to avoid visiting his father as much as he can, not
having to feign how busy he is. Even so, the previous head alpha allows him to get away with it for
only a handful of days before he summons Jimin to his chambers, refusing to be denied.

When he enters, he’s caught off guard to find the healer’s spot vacant, the room empty save for the
two of them.

“Where’s Haneul?”

“I sent her to rest.”

“She should be by your side.”

“I'm fine,” the alpha assures. “Besides. I wanted to talk. Just the two of us.”

Jimin feels off-footed as he moves to take a seat next to the bed, unable to avoid his father's
observant stare while his fingers grip into the dark fur of Jeongguk's cloak. He remains quiet even
though his curiosity nearly gets the better of him, and waits for the alpha to reveal what it is he
wishes to discuss.
"I didn't want to pressure you, so I kept quiet about it. I've actually been waiting for you to tell me."

Jimin is at a loss as to what that could mean when it could mean too many things.

"Tell you what?"

His father appears slightly upset, shaking his head before elaborating

"You said you were worried I wouldn't recover, and I'm deeply regretful that your fear likely
forced your hand. I can only hope that your choice was a happy one."

At Jimin's confused, wide-eyed stare he points towards his neck.

"I can see the bite on your shoulder."

It itches under the scrutiny, and maybe before everything that happened he would’ve had to fight
the urge to hide the claim beneath the palm of his hand, but he feels no such desire now, leaving it
to stand proudly in the open.

"Shouldn't you introduce me to your alpha?"

That makes him shift, more uncomfortable at the inquiry than his mating being discovered this
way, that numbness receding as he stares down at the dark fur he currently has a deathgrip on, and
tries to work out how to word this without giving everything away.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he quietly voices, wishing he could inject more feeling into
the words. “But that’s impossible right now. He’s not…he isn’t well.”

His father remains silent until Jimin looks back up at him, and there’s that look again, the one that
studies his features and his mannerisms, the one that clearly shows he knows there’s more,
confirming as much with his next words.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” the alpha confidently states, expression shifting from
perplexity to frustration. “What are you hiding from me?”

A wave of anxiety rolls through him, not wanting to reveal the extent of what his father missed
while the poison remained in his system, but he also knows the alpha better than anyone. He won’t
let this go, the two in possession of the same stubbornness, and Jimin wouldn’t put it past the man
to get out of bed despite the healer’s instructions, and tear through the Great Lodge until someone
finally revealed everything.

There’s really nothing he can do to avoid this, and Jimin would rather the alpha hear it from him
than someone else.

Darkness spreads fast as Jimin starts from the beginning, from the illness to their dwindling food
supplies. Endures his father’s harsh and concerned lectures when he tells him about his foray into
Soksagim forest.

About Jeongguk.

He recognizes the name immediately, rendered speechless for some time by the impossibility of it.

“They vanished the night Jeongsu was killed,” he says, appearing distraught. “Both Jisoo and the
pup. We feared the worst, but I’d always hoped they reached one of our ally packs. To think they
were in the forest all these years…”
During the course of the tale, the tension rises in his father, face falling when he learns of the
illnesses' first fatality, the rising dissention, and what occurred during the hunting trip in the plains
of Bangdae, both rage and fear flashing in his eyes when he hears about the attempt on Jimin’s life.

He pauses to take a deep breath and gather himself, knowing that it only gets worse.

When he finally tells him about the poisoning, it’s like watching his father die inside, far more
tortured and in pain than when he was near death. He’s quiet for so long, Jimin leaving him with
his thoughts, knowing that no amount of time will help heal that particular wound, nor process how
such a thing could occur. How anyone could go that far.

Revising what happened during the duration of their stay at Jeongguk’s home in Soksagim Forest,
Jimin omits the sequence of events that occured in the cave, but his father seems to already have
suspected something, his eyes lingering on the apparent bite on his neck before he even divulges
that part, focusing more on the retrieval of the echinacea plant, a distinct lack of surprise when the
words finally do leave his mouth.

“Jeongguk is my mate.”

Jeongguk is my mate.

He wants to repeat it over and over again, realizing he’s never been able to say it aloud until now,
and instead plays it over and over again in his mind, a never ending thought.

His father takes the news with a nod, and Jimin feels something unravel in his chest when he looks
almost…pleased with his choice? It’s hard to say, his scent is still muted, and there’s too many
emotions to pinpoint just one.

Jimin’s recounting of the night of the rebellion is nearly his undoing, the words stumbling over
themselves past that lump in his throat, eyes unseeing and blurry with a wave of unshed tears. His
father doesn't interrupt through it all, and by the end Jimin feels wrung dry, a weariness taking hold
that he hasn’t been able to shake for some time.

And yet.

The remaining weight he swears he constantly feels laid out along his shoulders lightens even
further.

Once he's finished, his father doesn’t say anything at first, merely stares across the way at him with
a mixture of emotions that translates into a kind of pain that isn't physical, but something much
worse, leaving its mark as sure as any scar would. And then, he opens up his big arms and beckons
Jimin to him.

Despite everything, his lingering aversion to touch and their strained relationship, Jimin doesn’t
hesitate. He crumples into his father’s arms and allows him to wrap him up and pull him in, the
scent of thyme stronger near his scent gland than it has been in recent months. He doesn’t cry, that
ever-present numbness still there, as if his wolf is no longer conscious, but rather sleeps in the
same way Jeongguk does, where feeling and sensation cannot reach him.

There's a piece of him that is still missing. The one only his mate can complete.

So he doesn’t cry, but he does feel something, and he wraps his own arms around his father and
squeezes tightly, desperate to hold onto it.

________________

“My father knows,” Jimin mumbles later that night in the depths of the cellar, the cold causing his
fingers to tingle until he loses sensation entirely. He’s excused the guards again, able to read the
gratitude that they tried to hide in the corners of their expressions from being granted an escape
from the inhospitable temperature.

“He… knows?” Minhei wonders, clearly on edge as he shivers in his cell.

“I told him everything tonight. It was like I ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it right
in front of him. I’ve only seen him look like that after my mother and brother died.”

The beta’s face morphs with that ever present shame, and Jimin feels how sympathy fills him up
inside along with guilt until he nearly drowns in it. He pulls Jeongguk’s cloak tighter around
himself, surprised with the boy’s next words.

“I think you should execute me.”

The quiet that stretches between them feels like it wraps its hands around Jimin’s neck and steals
his breath away.

“You think that would be what you deserve?”

“I nearly killed you.”

“But you didn’t, and you claimed that was never your intention. Unless it’s Hanyu you wish to
atone for.”

Minhei shakes his head, something like disgust overtaking his features.
“I just want it to stop. You come down here and you’re kind and you sit there and talk as though
we’re friends and I’m not…I don’t deserve your kindness, or your sympathy, or whatever it is you
feel. I need to pay for what I did, but it feels like you won’t let me.”

Jimin considers his words before asking a question of his own.

“How long do you think you’ve been down here, Minhei? Overall. I’m not talking about that brief
stint in time when you were released. But since you were discovered, how long do you think it’s
been?”

The boy considers it.

“Two weeks?”

“Nearly two months.”

He lets that sink in, confusion amplifying over the beta's features.

“You see, it doesn’t matter if you’re down here for two days, or two years, or two decades. It’s not
going to change how sorry you are. You made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, some minor,
some life-changing. No one has a right to forgive you but me, and yourself. I think you know
where I stand.”

The boy's wide eyes gape at him, and Jimin wishes he were never caught up in Doyun’s treachery.
But he understands it, and neither of them have the ability to change it.

But he can do something about it now. Jimin can be a better human being, and a better wolf than
even he thought he was capable of being.
“You could’ve run when I offered you the chance. Left all this behind to live free elsewhere. But
you chose to stay and face up to the consequences of your actions. I think you’ve done that.”

Minhei shakes his head in denial, clearly suspecting where this is going, and fights against it.

“You can’t let me out of this cage. You have to keep me here. I committed treason, the pack would
never—”

“I told you, it’s not the pack’s right to forgive, it’s mine, and my decision has been made. You’ll be
allowed to go home again, but the guards will still continue to monitor you. And I doubt you’ll be
serving food anytime soon, but…you can return home.”

The beta appears shocked and devastated in equal measure, as if he never imagined this day would
come. Jimin leaves him with that feeling, speaking to the soldiers at length about the boy’s fate
once he ascends the stairs. They look at him the same way Minhei did, but Jimin feels elated, as if
he no longer struggles to hold himself up.

To carry that weight he's nearly buckled under more than once.

________________

Jimin has lost count how many times he’s heard the words, “No change,” in Hoseok’s somber
cadence. How many times he’s watched Eunoia fly from the headboard to her home once he enters
the room, as if they’re switching shifts. He undresses slowly once the healer leaves, works the pins
out of his hair until it falls down his back again, and for the thousandth time, eyes the sheers on his
mother’s old vanity, and for the thousandth time he somehow ignores the pull to use them.
 He washes in the bath quickly, and dresses just as fast, the silk night clothes cool against his skin,
warmed by the fire in the hearth as he brushes his hair while seated on the fur rug, watching the
way the snow descends just past the window.

When he crawls into bed that night, he can barely keep his eyes open, the only thing warding him
away from sleep are the nightmares that he knows lie in wait, not at all eager to face them again.
Instead, he wraps Jeongguk’s arm around himself, and burrows into his side the same way he does
every night, rosemary and cloves filling his senses and setting him at ease.

He can carry on pretending that Jeongguk is here with him like this. Convinces himself that he
feels the alpha’s grip tighten along his waist.

“What I wouldn’t give to see you look at me again,” he whispers, lips brushing over warm skin,
that pulse he tracks every night jumping beneath his palm, words slurred when he adds, "Hear your
voice…”

He knows he’ll be greeted with silence, expects it so that he doesn’t break further…

But then a sharp inhale fills the room, and Jimin's stomach lurches, afraid he's imagining things
even as that numbness he's felt everyday since Jeongguk was injured begins to recede. A barely
there voice; hoarse from disuse but the most beautiful sound Jimin has ever heard in his life,
speaks.

“Hi sweetheart.”

The floodgates open, and Jimin cries and cries and cries.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, NOW there's only one chapter left.
 The Future
Chapter Notes

If anyone is interested, I'll be adding a link in the first chapter to a trailer I made for
The Rogue. Okay, this is the end, here we go. I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE
CRYING!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

TWO MONTHS LATER

Spring

Jeongguk is gone.

Jimin stands frozen in the doorway of their room, eyes fixed on the empty bed while his heart sinks
and tremors course through his hands.

Jeongguk is gone.

And Jimin. Is. Livid.

He storms down to the Great Hall, eyes narrowing when they land on Taehyung and Yoongi seated
at the table on the dias, a pile of scrolls between them. Jimin knows they’re busy planning their
mating ceremony, Taehyung very particular when it comes to his lists and schedule. He’d usually
let them be.
Not this time.

Yoongi looks his way upon his approach, only to immediately turn in order to avoid his accusing
gaze, cementing his guilt, and Jimin’s resolve hardens.

“Good afternoon my lord—”

“Where is he?”

The alpha’s eyes fall down to the tabletop while Tae looks between them curiously, clearly
confused, even more so when Yoongi feigns ignorance.

“He? He who—”

“Jeongguk. You know who. Where is he?”

It's painfully obvious the guard searches for an excuse until Taehyung elbows him without an
ounce of subtlety, and he crumbles in an instant.

“Namjoon and Seokjin took him to the field near Soksagim Forest. But you didn’t hear it from
me.”

Namjoon and Seokjin.

So everyone is against him now, is that it?

Crafting his frown to hold as much displeasure as he can muster, Jimin directs the full force of it at
Yoongi, giving Tae a quick hug before going on his way again, listening to the dissipating sounds
of the other omega demanding what exactly his mate-to-be has done.

The soldiers that stand like sentinels at the doors open them to the outer courtyard as Jimin charges
through, the fresh spring air colliding with him like an incoming wave, the slight chill it carries
caressing along his cheeks until it brings about a flush. His sense of smell picks up an abundance
of pollen and petrichor, signaling the coming rain, while the snow has all but melted—save for a
few piles here and there, and that which still dusts Hogok Mountain—leaving behind new greenery
in its wake, the tranquility of the season evoking a calming effect despite his ire.

Jimin makes his way down to the enclosed pasture, remembering to smile when members of the
pack greet him warmly wherever he goes, stopping to make smalltalk before continuing along the
path. At the wooden fence Bongcha welcomes him, Jimin’s anger fizzling out once he sees her
pacing the line, as if she knew he would come and has been waiting impatiently for him to do so.
She stomps at the muddied ground in excitement when he gets close, no doubt smelling the sugar
cube in his pocket that he remembered to grab from the kitchens on his way out. Holding up his
open palm to her with the treat cradled in the center, Jimin giggles in response to the shire's soft
nose tickling his skin while she nibbles on the cube.

“Enjoying the sun?” he wonders, eyes traveling up to the sky where the clouds have begun to roll
in. “Don’t think it’ll last much longer.”

Bongcha snuffles, hoof scraping at the ground, and it fills him with such joy to see that she’s doing
so much better than she was, can’t help but beam up at her while she chews. These days she gets
around easily, though the mare will never draw a wagon again, nor be saddled and ridden, per
Jimin's orders.

She gets to live a long, lazy life being spoiled by him.

He scratches between her eyes and gently guides her head close in order to look into them, the
color a deep warm brown.
“Don’t be upset, but I’m going to ride one of your friends out towards the forest, okay? I won't be
long, but I want you to stay here and relax.”

She lets free a soft whiny, and Jimin gives her another pat before he ducks between the slats of the
fence to enter the field, moving towards the midnight colored Frisian that grazes nearby. Bongcha
follows, the act of which brings about a smile that tugs at the omega's mouth, attempting to hide it
from her while he pretends not to notice, already aware it’s likely she’ll throw a fit.

He swiftly gains the stallion's back, forgoing a saddle for the sake of time, and trots towards the
gate with the shire in tow. The stable boy lets him out, and Jimin leaves him to deal with a petulant
Bongcha while he rides away, easing the animal into a gallop as he makes for the field of stumps
beyond the village wall.

He sees the woodcutters first, digging up what's left of the cut down trees, while others chop the
newly removed wood, storing it in a nearby wagon that’s nearly a quarter full. It’ll either be put to
use in rebuilding that which was lost in the fires, or be stored for the next winter as firewood, none
to be wasted.

And there, a little ways away from the other wolves, is Namjoon, Seokjin and Jeongguk, Jimin’s
anger reigniting when he sees the shovel in his alpha’s hands, a freshly unearthed stump at his
feet.

The three of them look pretty pleased with themselves.

Until they see Jimin.

Dismounting gracefully, he sends a withering glare at both Namjoon and Seokjin, even as they
terribly execute having their attention inexplicably drawn elsewhere, forcing him to turn the full
extent of his wrath on his mate next, who seems unable to look away, eyes widened and shining
with affection despite the way Jimin's narrow further in anger. Jeongguk pins him a charming
smile, sweat dotting his brow, one of those long, dark curls flirting with the cut of his jaw while the
rest is tied in a ponytail high on his head, his ivory tunic unlaced to reveal golden collarbones, the
sheen of his skin causing them glisten.

It’s almost enough to distract him.

Almost.

Jimin sends the most unimpressed look he can muster Jeongguk's way, the alpha sputtering out a
nervous laugh when he drops the shovel to the ground, traversing the knobby terrain to come to
him.

“Hi sweetheart.”

“Don’t you sweetheart me. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Look,” he beams, motioning towards the large stump with pride. “It’s for Eunoia.”

Again, Jimin's vexation diminishes slightly at that, and it takes everything he has to hold onto it.

“You could’ve asked the woodcutters; or even these two lugs to retrieve a stump for you," he
points at the other alphas as they continue to pretend to be oblivious, gaze falling to the shovel on
the ground as if it too were complicit, a growl in his voice when he adds, "You shouldn’t be out
here at all, let alone wielding that thing.”

Jeongguk moves forward again, slightly bent down to catch his attention, looking up at him
through long lashes that purposefully seem to flutter in order to test his patience.
"But only I know what I need. This way seemed easier.”

The omega shakes his head at the excuse, Jeongguk’s eyes appearing to shine brighter in the face
of his irritation.

“You were told, under no circumstances are you to participate in strenuous activity,” he seethes,
quoting Hoseok’s instructions, fuming when the alpha tries to talk his way out of it once more.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry so much.”

Hip cocking just as his brow does, Jimin's hand lashes out, jabbing—and not at all too hard—at the
alpha's still healing side, vindicated when Jeongguk bends at the waist with a groan. Jimin takes
the echo of pain that shoots through his own ribs as punishment, ready with another pointed look
when the alpha manages to sheepishly glance up at him through the strands of hair that escaped
from the tie.

"You were saying?"

"Back to your old tricks, eh?”

“They’re effective.”

“And dirty. I can't believe you did that to me. Again."

"I can't believe you fell for it, again. Or that you snuck out just so you could act like a fool out here
when you're not fully healed. I wasn't jesting when I said I'm considering strapping you to our
bed."
Jeongguk sidles up to him, placatingly nuzzling under his chin with an exaggerated whine to get at
his neck, taking a deep pull directly over his mating mark until Jimin shivers, swearing he can feel
that lascivious smile pressed into his skin when he mumbles, "you know I have no objections to
that, pup."

Jimin relishes in the feel of him for only a moment longer before gently swatting at his arm.

He’s supposed to be upset, dammit.

“Enough. Now get on the horse, please. Carefully.”

Jeongguk pouts, glancing over his shoulder towards the other alphas.

“Don’t look at them, they can’t help you. Except to bring your stump back to the lodge,” he orders
with an intentionally raised voice that he directs at the two, watching as Namjoon gives a chastised
nod in acknowledgement before turning back to Seokjin who looks as if he’s seconds away from
bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Get on the horse, Jeongguk,” he repeats, leaving no room for argument.

The alpha sighs, but the corners of his lips are still curled up when he moves to obey, taking his
time to mount the Frisian before holding a hand down towards Jimin in both aid and an offering of
peace; which Jimin accepts, albeit temporarily. Regaining his seat in front of him, he casts one last
stern look Namjoon and Seokjin’s way as he maneuvers the stallion back around towards home,
urging him into another gallop, the sound of laughter fading quickly behind them. More of his
irritation vanishes the second Jeongguk wraps both arms around his waist, fingers tracing along the
hem of his tunic near his lower abdomen, searching until he can get to skin, setting his blood to
boil at the way those fingers kiss along the waistband of his trousers. Jimin’s legs tighten against
the Frisian's flanks in response and he urges him faster, already embarrassingly desperate from a
few simple touches.
They’re quiet the rest of the journey to the village, returning the horse to the pasture just as it
begins to sprinkle, the two of them petting both the stallion and Bongcha goodbye while the stable
boy rounds the animals up into the barn that still has to be shared with the livestock.

The rain picks up once they enter the Great Lodge, exchanging pleasantries with passing staff
members on their way to the stairs, several bowing as they pass, expressing how grateful they are
to see Jeongguk on his feet again, the alpha clearly surprised by their declarations, mulling it over
as they climb up to the fourth floor. Jimin resolutely ignores the way their arms brush when they
walk side by side, stubbornly wanting to hold onto what’s left of his ire even as it quickly fades, his
mate's confusion and pursed lips causing him to become endeared instead.

He waits until they’re behind closed doors to continue their earlier…conversation.

“Explain to me what you were doing,” he demands, though the rest of his anger slips through his
fingers like sand, leaving behind fear and anxiety instead.

Jeongguk is ever patient with him, undoubtedly experiencing the chaos of his emotions through
their bond. His voice is soft and slow, managing to keep the smile that never fails to send
butterflies fluttering through Jimin’s stomach as he provides a better explanation.

“It’s spring, and Eunoia keeps attempting to bring that male screech owl to her nest, but he won’t
come inside the lodge. I thought I could build her something more natural that could be bolted just
outside our window, that way she could remain close and still have somewhere to raise her brood.”

The explanation leaves him momentarily speechless, and Jimin wants to whine and kick his feet
with how much he loves this man, even when he’s disregarding sound medical advice and making
his life more difficult. The rest of the fight finally leaves him, body physically deflating beneath
those pretty sparkling eyes and that pure heart he's absolutely dazzled by, though he should know
better than to give in.

“Come here, let me see it,” he commands on a weary sigh, motioning towards the other's side, heat
kindling in his core as the alpha removes his shirt in one swift motion without protest, and even
that is reminiscent of the past.

As he inspects the injury he can’t help but smirk when Jeongguk starts to petulantly complain with
a pout to his lips.

“Couldn’t have been on the same side as the one I was bitten on, no,” he huffs, drawing out the
word before finishing with equal amounts of sarcasm, “I have to have two scarred sides.”

“Are you looking for compliments?”

“Why? Are you going to give them to me?”

Holding his gaze, Jimin slowly bends at the waist in order to place an open-mouth kiss over the
faded bite before moving to the opposite side to kiss where the fire poker struck along his ribs, the
new flesh tender and sensitve.

“You’re beautiful,” he praises, the ‘and lucky to be alive,’ dying on his tongue once he rises back
up to his full height and takes in how big the alpha’s pupils are blown.

He’s understandably reactive. Not only has Jimin been hovering and forcing him to rest, he’s also
restricted their physical intimacy for fear that it would cause Jeongguk's healing to regress, the pent
up arousal between them palpable until the omega swears he burns with it daily, their combined
scents intoxicating. It doesn’t help that neither one of them has had a heat or rut since their near
death experience, Hoseok claiming it to be a normal side-effect after the heavy stress their bodies
have endured. It's taken a toll on them, that tension ever rising. Jimin was planning to wait it out
until Jeongguk healed fully, but looking at him now, at the way he’s responding to something so
innocent, coupled with the desire that runs rampant through his own system which is now layered
with an echo of the alpha's own, has him rethinking his stance.

Backing away, he keeps his eyes on his mate as he slowly and purposely begins to disrobe, an
addictive power born at the sight of the carnal desire he recognizes in Jeongguk's hungry stare to
rival that which he's already in possession of, a tingling pull pulsating between his legs, displaying
his need once he bares himself fully.

Jeongguk remains where he is, breaths quickening, lids squeezing tightly shut before blinking open
again in rapid succession, distrustful of what he sees. Jimin smirks, slowly reaching up to remove
the pins from his hair, the strands tickling his sensitive skin once they begin to cascade down his
back. When the last section falls, only then does his mate reach for him, freezing when Jimin stops
that range of motion with a halting order.

“Don’t touch. Show me.”

Adam’s apple bobbing, Jeongguk's hands visibly shake while he sheds his own garments in record
time, that thick cock finally revealed to Jimin’s hungry gaze, standing tall over his navel, the sight
of which has saliva filling the omega's mouth, tongue running over dry lips with the urge to taste.

“Lie on the bed,” he breathlessly instructs, and Jeongguk scrambles to do so, careful as he shuffles
up to settle against the pillows, watching Jimin with hooded eyes that appear far darker than
normal, overtaken with lust.

Jimin climbs up after him, crawling the length of his legs and stopping when he hovers above that
impressive length, which already leaks with anticipation for what’s to come. His hands frame the
alpha’s groin, fixated on the way his dick twitches, and he lowers down with a single-minded
focus that he’s never before experienced.

For so long they’ve been denied the act of exploring each other, of learning the way they taste, the
way they sound when certain pleasures are visited upon them. Jimin wants to know what makes
Jeongguk’s body lock up in an arch, the sweetest noises spilling from his parted lips as stars streak
across his vision.

Once he takes him into his mouth, he thinks he might have his first answer.
A pretty cry echoes up into the rafters when Jimin’s tongue curls around the slit in the swollen
head of his alpha’s cock, flavor exploding on his tongue as he greedily laps up the pearlescent fluid
that beads there. Hollowing his cheeks, the omega sucks and sucks and sucks, taking it as a
personal endeavor to get more of that taste; deep and savory, humming in satisfaction when the
viscous fluid blurts out in copious amounts. Eyes fluttering up, he sees that Jeongguk's teeth are
elongated, sinking into his own bottom lip, the wounds he inflicts healing and opening anew once
he bites down and eases up in turns, body taut as if ready to snap.

Jimin releases his mate’s swollen length with a wet 'pop,' fingers wrapping around the spit-slick
girth of it, so big they're unable to meet in the middle. He then mouths sloppily down the side of
the shaft, moaning at the clean taste of the alpha’s skin, drunk off of rosemary and cloves even as
he indulges in another deep inhale at the base, unable to get enough. By the time he takes
Jeongguk’s heavy balls into his mouth, the alpha is a blubbering mess, fingers digging into the furs
with a white-knuckled grip, head arched back to alluringly bare his throat in a move that has
Jimin’s omega clawing at his mind, wanting to be set free, nearly gone feral with the urge to sink
his teeth into the flesh right where he did so the first time.

Jimin ignores it for now, eager to explore the alpha’s anatomy, releasing his balls from his mouth
before lifting them to place an open-mouthed kiss just behind.

Jeongguk violently shivers, a deafening groan filling Jimin’s ears as he sucks there too, the
vibrations of the sound causing his skin to tingle where they touch, confusion taking over when
Jeongguk starts to pull on him, forcing him up and away.

“No more. Come—come on. Wanna taste you.”

“You’re not supposed to move too much—”

“Sit on my face then.”

His heart pounds right out of his chest. Or that’s what it feels like, anyway, and Jimin finds himself
clumsily crawling the rest of the way up Jeongguk’s body, taking note of the way the alpha’s dark
irises nearly swallow the whites of his eyes, long tongue licking over his lips while his nostrils
flare, Jimin already leaking copiously even though he has yet to be touched. When he nears
Jeongguk's neck, knees framing it on either side of the furs, Jimin's body stills before he can
obstruct his face, unsure how to go about it. The last thing he wants to do is hurt him further,
overthinking the logistics. But then Jeongguk’s hands grip into his backside, physically lifting him
up until he’s seated over his face, a surprised cry leaving him when he's readjusted, warm air
fanning over his wet hole that elicits a jolting tremor throughout his form.

Jimin cries out even louder and squirms with the first touch of that tongue, licking all the way from
the underside of his balls to his winking hole, circling his entrance with a wet slurp before he
buries deeper between his cheeks to nibble at his rim. His body flushes, suddenly too warm,
arousal oddly spiking when Jeongguk pushes him up and off a little, wondering why until the
sound of a deep, ragged inhale reaches him before the alpha dives back in, drinking down the
excess slick he produces with the ferocity of one who does not want a single drop to escape before
thrusting his tongue inside, Jimin feverishly rocking against his face in ecstasy.

Jeongguk takes two more gulping breaths and goes back to smothering himself in Jimin's ass, that
tongue returning to wriggle against his constricting walls, the omega trembling when he reaches
out for the wooden headboard, using it as both stability and leverage to grind down against his
features. That tongue fucks up inside at a maddening pace while Jeongguk's nose adds a foreign but
delicious kind of pressure to the back of his balls, and he shakes his head almost frantically, about
to come—

The alpha guides Jimin off of his face until he disorientedly finds himself straddling his chest
instead, squealing in shock when lips seal over the head of his hard cock and swallow him down,
the suction intense, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

Jimin’s vision whites out when he comes, refocusing just in time to see Jeongguk’s eyes roll up,
lids lowered as he tastes his release, continuing to suckle on the head long after he has nothing left
to give, like he can't get enough. Body curling over the alpha in overstimulation, Jimin is wracked
with continuous aftershocks, the force of which zaps what remaining strength he has left until he
becomes lethargic, limbs heavy as they slip from the headboard to the bed below, fingers burying
in midnight strands that fan out over the numerous furs.

They both gasp loudly when he finally releases him, Jeongguk's fingers massaging over the cheeks
of his ass before forcing them to spread, cold air causing his hole to clench.

“I could feel it,” the alpha rasps nonsensically. “When you climaxed, I could feel it like it was my
own.”

Jimin shivers again, the connection between them singing, and he’s even more eager to see what
happens when Jeongguk reaches his own completion. Limbs uncoordinated, he inches down the
rest of Jeongguk’s body until he can straddle his hips, lifting up onto his knees he spreads himself
open above Jeongguk’s big, erect cock, watching the way his eyes widen as he gives a delayed
shake of his head.

"It's been too long, pup. Need to stretch you."

"Maybe just the tip then?"

A growl resounds throughout their room, and without warning two fingers sink into his tight, wet
heat, spearing straight through to that bundle of nerves inside as if he were given a map to it. They
vanish entirely not a second later, replaced by the soft, spongy flesh of Jeongguk's engorged head,
adding pressure to his rim when he hisses, "Just the tip, huh? Think you can take it sweetheart?"

The friction is too much, an ache spreading that confuses his body as it coalesces with the pleasure,
akin to the way ice burns until the cold registers, and Jimin wants more , tries to force himself
down even though he knows this was just the alpha's way of trying to prove a point, impeded by
the arm that holds him up.

"You're going to hurt yourself, sweetheart."

"I can take it," Jimin desperately reassures, gravity on his side, the alpha only able to do so much
injured as he is, leaving him at a disadvantage, while the other hand that was wrapped around his
cock between them is not quick enough once the omega starts to sink down.

"Jimin—"
But he's too late.

A guttural noise leaves them both as Jimin falls too fast, the slopes of his cheeks smacking into the
cradle of Jeongguk's pelvis when he bottoms out, the omega's eyes as wide as his open mouth, the
sound fading from him as if he drifts away. Meanwhile, a continuous growl rumbles from between
the alpha's gritted teeth, crimson swirling in the abyss of his eyes, those elongated canines biting
into his lip again until Jimin manages to slowly lift an arm, thumb pulling it free, leaning down to
curl his tongue over the torn skin, blood like saccharine metal that follows when he licks inside for
a filthy kiss.

“Don’t move,” he orders into the alpha's mouth in a labored exhale, lifting up onto his knees again
before falling back down to be impaled.

Jeongguk quickly turns restless beneath him, hands coming up to reach for his waist, freezing just
shy of doing so before falling back down again, only to immediately repeat the process. It’s clear
he’s struggling to listen, and Jimin can feel how he so desperately wants to force him down, make
him present in order to fuck him at his own desired pace.

It's hard not to enjoy the alpha's frustrations, a devious grin curling his lips while he rides him,
promptly ruined by the way he throws his head back and moans when that engorged cockhead
presses against his spot just right, sinuously rolling his hips in an effort to brush it again, shivering
once he's successful.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

It isn’t a question, and Jimin’s smile shakily returns even as his breath hitches.

“Of course I am. After what you did today, you deserve it.”
His trembling intensifies when the alpha growls again, fully expecting the feel of hands finally
gripping onto his hips, turning them until Jimin finds himself beneath that muscled form, Jeongguk
groaning from the pain that flares up in his side over the quick movement, the phantom sensation
affecting Jimin as well, confusing his body again over the dual sensation, suddenly finding the
situation funny.

“I told you,” he gloats between panting giggles against Jeongguk’s lips, the alpha releasing a deep
chuckle as well, both of their laughs transformed into appreciative moans once he starts to fuck
back into the vice-like clutch of the omega.

He's already painfully hard again, too delirious with pleasure to even be sure if he ever even went
soft after his first orgasm, that undeniable pressure building and building as Jeongguk’s hips snap
against his ass, those strokes deep, the pace brutal.

“B-Be—ohhhh…be careful,” he tries to warn, hand coming up to carefully trace along the alpha's
ribs, feeling him shiver beneath his touch once he reaches the scar.

The advice falls on deaf ears. if anything, Jeongguk seems to revel in doing the exact opposite,
jostling Jimin to and fro with renewed vigor, licking over his jaw before burying his face in his
neck with pent up whines that devolve into more growls, closer to his wolf than he is to his
humanity, those sharp teeth sinking into his mating mark as if reclaiming him. Jimin comes for the
second time with Jeongguk fucking him through it harder, knot swelling until they’re locked, the
alpha’s range of motion deep, but limited. He ruts against Jimin's ass when his orgasm finally
crashes over him, setting the omega adrift as it crests, culminating into this euphoric surge, the
likes of which Jimin swears he experiences as if it were his own, their connection open and free-
flowing.

It's too intense, the knot somehow swelling even further inside, the head pressing right into his
prostate when a flood of warmth blooms against it, leaving Jimin to tremble in Jeongguk’s arms as
he does so in turn, stilted breaths and drawn out whimpers exhaled near the lobe of his ear.

It takes a while for the two of them to calm. With each new wave of wet heat that fills Jimin it’s as
if Jeongguk comes again and again, the sensation drawn out, coating his insides in white until
finally the pulsing stops and the knot deflates, though the alpha refuses to pull out just yet, keeping
their bodies entwined while they catch their breath. Afterwards, Jeongguk situates them on their
sides facing each other, and runs his hands through Jimin’s hair as if enraptured by the long
strands, using them to tickle his skin until he giggles, swatting at his chest to get him to stop before
releasing a deep sigh and resettling.

“I’ve been insufferable, haven’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jeongguk murmurs, placing a kiss atop his head. “You've made every effort
to ensure that I recover quickly. I remember what it’s like to be that helpless, watching the person
you love fight for their life while having to come to terms with the fact that there’s nothing you can
do.”

“Felt like I was in the bed with you, waiting to wake up,” Jimin husks, leaning into the alpha’s
touch, still too emotionally raw over the memory.

“I could feel you next to me. Hear your voice when you spoke,” Jeongguk reveals, their eyes
meeting with his next words. “I can’t tell you how much that helped.”

Jimin wraps his arms around him tighter and burrows into his side, can’t explain how happy he is
to hear it, that he was able to reach him even while in that state.

He remembers what it was like after Jeongguk woke up, how terrified he was everytime the alpha
fell asleep, this insurmountable fear consuming him that whispered in his ear that he wouldn't wake
up this time, those raw emotions channeling between their connection until it kept the alpha from
getting any rest. And if it wasn't that, it was the nightmares that left them both sleep-deprived.

Fingers trace up and down Jimin's spine, the act almost hypnotizing in its repetivity, Jeongguk's
voice hesitant when next he speaks.

“Sweetheart?”
“Hmm?”

“...Do you want to cut your hair?”

Jimin freezes, caught off guard by the question.

As soon as the alpha was well enough to handle it, he went through the excruciating process of
telling Jeongguk everything that happened to him the night of the attempted siege, heart breaking
while he watched the devastation take over his mate's features, both of them trembling as they held
each other like lifelines in a swirling gale. They've worked through pain, the fury, and the
despondency that lingered afterwards, Jimin even managing to overcome his aversion to touch
from anyone other than his mate…but he has yet to reveal the residual trauma behind his hair; as
strange as it sounds, and yet despite that, Jeongguk knows.

“You always wear it up,” he explains when the omega remains quiet, “and I see the way you eye
the shears every night, like you’re considering it. Do you want to?”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Jimin forces himself to relax. It's Jeongguk, after all. The person
he can tell anything to.

“Yes,” he admits. “And no. I don’t really know.”

It’s hard to articulate. But for both of their sakes, he tries.

“That night…It was used against me over and over again,” he whispers, eyeing the long strands
that drape over his naked skin as he does. “Sometimes I still feel their hands pulling it, and I
can’t…it’s hard to wear it free now.”
Jeongguk hums in understanding, remaining calm and collected, but they share a connection, and
Jimin can feel that muted rage over what he was forced to endure, as well as sorrow, and this
consuming need to make it right.

“If you want to cut it, I can help you. We could do it now if you'd like."

For whatever reason, the thought of it twists his stomach rather than bringing relief, the alpha
easily sensing as much.

"But if you wish to wait, that's okay too. You can continue pinning it, take it slow until you feel
safe again.”

His fingers card through the mass to massage over his scalp, and Jimin purrs in pleasure.

“You make me feel safe.”

Jeongguk’s chest rumbles, clearly pleased, and Jimin loses himself to the sensation of those soft
touches that sweep through his hair, the long silvery strands dragging across his skin and
magnifying the pleasure of it while he thinks on his mate's words.

“Maybe I will wait.”

The alpha gives another deep noise of acknowledgement, neither pleased nor disappointed, lest he
sway his decision, and Jimin feels such love for him that he can hardly contain it, the smile he
wears causing his cheeks to hurt, the sound of the fire roaring in the hearth filling their room.

“The staff keeps calling me high alpha,” Jeongguk suddenly voices, sounding slightly perturbed,
and Jimin can’t help but be even more endeared when he sees those lips pursed in a familiar pout.
“That’s what you are now, love.”

“Maybe, but it doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

Jimin lies against his chest, the gentle up-down motion more dramatic as Jeongguk takes a deep
breath and lets it out in a sigh, searching for the words.

"Being high alpha? I don't feel like it's my right. I didn't grow up here. Nor do I know them or your
customs the way you do.”

Jimin props himself up on an elbow so he can better look at the man, voice soft when he speaks.

“You might not have grown up here, but this is still your pack. By now my father has already
spread word to the entire village about your parents. They know you’re no outsider.”

“That isn’t entirely it, though. I don’t wish to perpetuate the misgivings the pack holds regarding
the capability of alphas versus omegas. You’re far more proficient as a leader, and have proven so
time and time again. You earned the title, selflessly placing others above yourself. The one who
saw us all through the worst of things. I don’t want them to solely look to me when it was you who
gave everything for them. It doesn't feel right," he repeats, "that now that we're mated it passes to
me like it meant nothing. Like all that you did was just a placeholder for someone else to take
credit for. I don't want to do that. I can't."

Jimin’s breath catches over what it sounds like he's implying, the act of an omega leading the pack
in any capacity before he stood in for his father unheard of.
“I’m not sure how well such a thing will be received,” he replies, as they’re all still recovering
from the extreme measures in which Doyun and his supporters resorted, the wounds they left not
entirely healed.

He doesn’t fancy a repeat of that if someone hiding amongst them were to sympathize with such
outdated and deadly ideologies.

“It might be too much of a risk to try and judge if the pack would even be open to the idea.”

“Maybe. Or maybe we have to put more faith in them.”

Despite himself, Jimin beams down at the man, a bit emotional when he recalls the way the alpha
used to feel about his people in the beginning. Their people, now.

“I must admit I never thought I would hear that sentiment come from your lips.”

Jeongguk shares in that smile, fingers tucking a long ivory strand behind Jimin’s ear.

“You said your father fought hard to change things, and maybe before, there might have been
protests, opposition, but Jimin, you’ve been leading the pack for months already, and I believe no
one could have done a better job of it than you did. If they can’t see that, I don’t think that this is
the right place for them to remain.”

Them, not us.

There was a time Jeongguk wanted to get away from here. To run back into Soksagim Forest. A
time he wanted Jimin to come with him. But now, this truly feels like their home.

Jimin meets his gaze, physically drawn to the alpha until he lowers down to Jeongguk's lips in a
sweet kiss that loses its innocence quickly.

"Have I told you I love you today?" He shudders when a calloused palm sinks between his legs,
feeling the wet, messy place where they're still joined.

"No, you've been quite cross with me," Jeongguk coos, fingers tracing over his stretched hole
before adding insistent pressure, Jimin's body arching up to meet him as he unfurls to allow him
entry.

"I love you," he cries in rapture, a sweet, innocent kiss placed to the tip of his nose juxtaposed to
what he does with the rest of his body as they writhe against each other.

"I know sweetheart. I love you too. More than anything."

Jeongguk doesn't let him leave their bed for some time, the omega only just managing to slip away
despite the other's protests, donning a robe in order to lean out into the hall and request a bath be
brought up to their chambers.

The alpha makes sure they're both decent by the time it's brought up, a few windows cracked open
to let in the sound of the rain, thunder a distant roar as the pelting drops relax them further, the
smell seeming to heighten Jimin's own natural scent. Once they're alone again, their clothes are
quickly abandoned, and Jimin slowly rides him in the bath while the water turns lukewarm around
them, licking into the alpha’s mouth to swallow down their pleasured cries.

“Fuck, you take such good care of me,” Jeongguk reiterates on a moan, and Jimin laughs against
his lips and increases his pace, addicted to the way his mate growls in appreciation.
After coming again, Jimin washes and rinses them off with the clean water from the pitchers that
rest near the tub, making sure Jeongguk’s skin is dry before checking on his still healing scar,
rubbing some more salve over it just to be safe. They then take turns running a comb through each
other’s hair, Jimin enjoying the way the alpha hums a melodic tune while massaging his scalp,
blunt nails scratching until his eyes nearly roll up.

They fall into bed after, and he promises Jeongguk one more hour before he has to go back to his
duties, his mate frustrated that he can’t yet join him.

“Soon,” Jimin promises, lids heavy once he’s pulled into a warm side.

“Good. I look forward to turning this around on you and making you rest.”

Softly, he giggles, shaking his head lethargically at the "threat."

“Me? Why? I’m fine.”

“Nice try, sweetheart," he says with another kiss to his temple. "Sleep now.”

Jimin hums, obeying as he sinks down into a dreamless nap.

________________

Jimin watches the steady progress of frames being erected for new houses, the inner workings like
skeleton bones until they’re fleshed out once the walls go up. Excitement builds in him at the
prospect of the pack being able to return to their own space, the stumps from the field that borders
Soksagim Forest steadily removed, and new trees planted.

He has yet to tell Yoongi or Taehyung, but he’s having a cabin built for them as well, hoping it’ll
be finished in time for their mating ceremony so they’re granted a bit more privacy. Jimin is in no
rush to have his room back, but he knows the two would be happier with their own home.

There's also the added benefit that it'll put an end to the awkward encounters that come with having
them in the next room over, Jimin constantly making the attempt to keep quiet at night while
Jeongguk revels in taking him apart, seeming to view it as a personal challenge to make the omega
forget why he’s sinking his teeth into his bottom lip like his life depends on it. Every morning that
follows, without fail, his cheeks burn once Taehyung pins him with that knowing look and a raised
brow in their shared corridor.

The stone walls aren't exactly good about trapping in noise.

Jimin spends his days with the pack, but at night his attention belongs to Jeongguk, the two caught
in a dance that spins them across the room, over every available surface as they take the time that
wasn’t afforded to them before to learn and memorize each other, bringing about pleasures that
Jimin never could’ve imagined existed. But it isn't just that. He's addicted to the alpha's presence,
needs it like air, Jeongguk softly admitting to feeling the same once they're finally able to just be
together. Their conversations flow effortlessly, a different kind of warmth spreading as they fall in
love all over again with each other's wit, cleverness, and sense of humor, Jimin swearing he's never
smiled or laughed so much in his life.

He's genuinely interested and attentive when the alpha details the latest book he’s been reading, or
excitedly shows him the progress he’s made on carving out the stump that both Namjoon and
Seokjin brought up for him, so taken with his enthusiasm, despite the mess of wood shavings
everywhere.

“I have to be fast,” Jeongguk murmurs one night, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth
while he continues to work on hollowing the opening. “Eunoia will be searching out new places
soon if that other screech owl keeps refusing to come inside.”

“Sweet,” Jimin hums, so painfully smitten, chin in his palm, eyes sliding over to Eunoia as she
stretches her wings where she perches on the alpha's shoulder, eyeing the wood curiously as if
supervising. “I'm glad she was able to find a mate in Soksagim Forest.”

“She’s like you in that regard,” Jeongguk beams, and Jimin returns the smile, leaning forward to
place a kiss on the tip of his nose before moving back again to quietly watch him work.

He checks on the alpha’s wound two times a day like Hoseok instructed, the skin fully repaired,
using only the soothing salve now that he’s mostly healed, until even that tender soreness has all
but disappeared. It’s only a few more days of this until Jimin brings the healer to their chambers,
wringing his hands nervously while he hovers as Hoseok inspects the injury.

“Does this cause any pain? Any discomfort?” The beta asks, using the pads of his fingers to prod at
the scar, to which Jeongguk shakes his head in negative.

“Arms up. Lean from side to side for me.”

Jeongguk complies, and when asked the same question, he once more shakes his head no.

“Twist at the waist. Still good?”

Jeongguk nods, and Hoseok smiles, clearly pleased.

“I would say you’re proverbially out of the woods. Just don’t go overexerting yourself, and you
might want to hold off on shifting, but you no longer have to rest.”

The brightness emanating from Jeongguk’s smile is enough to blind, and Jimin laughs out loud
when he rushes him, hands going to the backs of his thighs to lift him up and spin him around, the
sound of Hoseok’s exasperated sigh filling the room.
“What did I just say?”

Jimin makes the alpha put him back on his feet, but Jeongguk remains close, nose pressed to his
scent gland, the next words he speaks muffled against the omega’s skin until he’s a trembling
mess.

“Thank you, Hoseok. Your time and gentle bedside manner has been deeply appreciated.”

The beta snorts in amusement, shaking his head while he gathers his belongings.

“At least wait until I’m out of the room, please.”

No sooner has their door closed behind him that Jeongguk picks Jimin up again and throws him
over his shoulder, a high-pitched cry leaving the omega over the position, breathless when his mate
carefully tosses him on their bed.

“I don’t have to hold back anymore.”

“Were you ever?” Jimin challenges, shivering at the fire he sees burning in those star-filled eyes,
the iris nearly swallowed by those dilating pupils, a ring of red like an eclipsed blood moon
hanging in the midnight sky.

“How about I show you, and then you can tell me.”

Jimin’s mouth goes dry, wolf called to attention, body hyperaware as Jeongguk begins to slowly
crawl up his body.
Several hours later, he would say that yes, the alpha was, in fact, holding back.

________________

The first thing Jeongguk officially does as head alpha is call the rest of the pack into the Great
Hall, the surreality indescribable as Jimin takes a seat behind his still form next to his father on the
dias, wanting the attention to be on his mate rather than divided. He can feel an echo of Jeongguk’s
nervousness despite standing tall and composed before the gathered wolves, Namjoon, Seokjin and
Yoongi flanking him, while Taehyung takes up residence at Jimin’s other side.

Pride fills him over the way the village stares up at Jeongguk in awe, reminding him of the rumor
he’s recently been made aware of that the two of them are referred to as the alpha and omega who
cheated death.

Jimin supposes it’s fitting.

“By now all of you have been informed about my parentage, and how I was born to this pack,”
Jeongguk starts, the pause he takes effective in keeping his audience hanging off of his words.
“But the truth is I don’t feel as if I belong here yet, something I would very much like to rectify. I
wish to sit and share meals with you, hear your stories, and connect with each and every member of
this pack until I’ve earned your trust and support. Until I’m worthy enough to lead you.”

A collective gasp rolls in from the crowd, and Jimin’s pride surges, noting that each and every gaze
that gapes up at his mate is filled with even more wonder and disbelief than before, their
consideration and opinions on the matter of who rules over them never once taken into
consideration.

Motioning behind him, Jeongguk continues.

“During his father’s illness, Jimin stepped into the role seamlessly, constantly putting the well-
being of others above his own as he worked to keep the pack safe, sheltered, and fed, would you
agree?”

There is a mighty call from the crowd as they do, so loud it’s nearly deafening, and Jimin’s heart
feels weightless as it collides against the cage of his chest, without which it might simply float
away.

“I wish I could be half the leader that my mate was in your time of need, which is why, if I am to
be named head alpha, I do not plan to lead alone. I refuse to be seen as greater simply because of
my subgender. As I said, I’m of the opinion that that right must be earned. And so, this position I
hold will be a joint effort between Jimin and I. Together, we will guide this pack into a new age
where value is no longer placed on alpha, beta or omega, but on the strength of our character.”

Turning until he’s in profile, Jeongguk’s eyes meet his.

“And I can think of no one better to lead you with,” Jeongguk declares with a hand held out to
beckon him.

Jimin goes easily, his nerves disappearing the second he slips his palm against his mate’s, their
fingers intertwining as they both turn back to face the onlooking crowd that appears far more taken
with the idea than Jimin could’ve ever hoped for, Jeongguk’s voice gaining in volume as he poses
a singular question.

“All in favor?”

The raucous cries ring in his ears until Jimin has to fight the urge to cover them, no longer worried
about his heart floating away, as he’s sure the rest of his body will join it, tears brimming along his
lashes at the way the pack celebrates them.
Only after several minutes does it fall quiet, Jeongguk’s voice taking on a slightly hardened edge
with his next words.

“If any of you do take issue with my decision, I encourage you to seek a different pack that may
better suit your needs and share your views, because you will have no place here. Unless of course
there are any who see fit to challenge me?”

Jimin holds his breath, body tensing as he waits, but the Great Hall remains silent, and he watches
in relief as a smile curls Jeongguk’s lips upward, the stars in his eyes twinkling.

“Then it’s settled."

________________

“You’re ridiculous,” Jimin huffs later, unable to stay mad at the smug grin Jeongguk gifts him with
while he tucks the furs in closer around his body, those wide, doe-eyes far too bright.

“You shouldn’t be surprised. I did warn you that one of the first things I would do as high alpha
would be to make you rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“You will be, now that the only thing you need to focus on is yourself. You haven’t been able to do
that for a long time, pup.”

“It doesn’t feel right,” Jimin pouts, and Jeongguk’s smile turns fond and sweet.
“That’s because you’re so used to constantly living in fight or flight. Encounter a problem, find a
solution. Go, go go. You can relax now, sweetheart. Breathe. Take a nap. Soak in the bath. Read, if
you’d like. But make sure you’re resting.”

"Someone needs to guide you through this."

"And someone will."

"Who?" Jimin challenges.

"Your father," Jeongguk absently shrugs as if imparting an inconsequential piece of information,

calm in the face of Jimin's disbelief.

"My father?"

"Mhmm. I can't think of a better way to get to know him. And now you don't have to worry about
me learning the ropes, you can just stay in bed."

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Jimin grumbles, knowing it to be true when Jeongguk’s smile
widens again, a precursor to him leaning forward to place a kiss in the center of his brow, their
noses brushing when the alpha slowly pulls back.

“If by this you mean I’m enjoying encouraging you to take care of yourself after you’ve looked
after me and everyone else around you, then yes. I am enjoying this.”

It’s impossible to feign annoyance in the face of such a declaration, and Jimin feels his own lips
slide up into an affectionate smile of his own, the scent of rosemary and cloves blanketing him in a
warmth that puts the furs Jeongguk bundled him up in to shame, surprised by a the deep-rooted
weariness that rears its head so suddenly.

“I suppose I could sleep for a bit.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jeongguk beams, placing another chaste kiss to the corner of his lips this time.

Fingers come up to card through the loose strands of Jimin's hair, the alpha having helped him
remove the pins just as soon as they entered the privacy of their room. He buries his face in it,
inhales, the long silvery locks slipping through Jeongguk’s fingers once he regains his feet.

“I won’t be far. But if you need me I’ll feel it right here,” he assures, hand to his heart, and Jimin
finds himself smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

That happens a lot these days.

“Aren’t you romantic.”

“You’re damn right I am.”

His laugh echoes off of the stone, and Jeongguk looks as if it physically pains him to leave,
prolonging his departure with another gentle reminder to “Rest.”

Maybe it’s because he’s so happy, or maybe it’s the exhaustion that plagues him, but Jimin reveals
the final thing he’s been keeping from his mate all this time, too afraid of the possibility of
upsetting him while he recovered from his injury.
“I released Minhei from the cellars while you slept.”

He says it quickly, like a child afraid to admit their transgressions, but Jeongguk understands,
features softening to match his voice when he says, “I know, love. I saw him in the crowd earlier.”

“You’re not upset?”

“At you? Never. I know who you are, how pure your heart is. I don’t want that to change. It’s one
of the reasons why I love you so much. So, no. I’m not angry. I understand your choice, and I
support it.”

Tears kiss the corners of his eyes again, skin feeling tight when he chokes out, “You do?”

The alpha nods, a palm conforming to his cheek as he gently wipes beneath his eyes.

“I do. Now, sleep. I’ll be back soon enough to check on you.”

“Promise?”

Jeongguk winks at him, and Jimin’s heart flutters.

“Promise.”

________________
Over the course of the next few days, Jimin sleeps for hours, and he sleeps often, finding it secretly
endearing how pleased Jeongguk looks each time he wakes him up, like it’s his own personal
triumph.

"Hush."

The simple command causes the alpha to sputter into a chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I didn't say anything.”

"You want to say I told you so. I can feel it."

“I'm not gloating, sweetheart. I'm just happy. You’ve been in a constant state of motion. It’s about
time you’ve been able to stand still.”

He can’t even argue with that, as he and nearly every other person in his life has told him a
variation of the exact same thing, all of them beside themselves now that Jeongguk is “making”
him take a brief respite.

Jimin doesn't always sleep, though.

Sometimes he reads by the fire while the rain pelts against the glass, dark clouds rolling in to block
out the sun until his room becomes dim before dusk. Or pets Eunoia in front of the row of windows
once the weather clears up again, watching the people below as they go about their day. Jimin
catches sight of Jeongguk sometimes, his alpha lugging around that stump he’s so fixated on
finishing, heading off towards the docks of Lake Geoul with his father in step beside him, the two
sitting out there for hours as the ice melts and breaks apart over the surface of the water. There,
Jeongguk works meticulously on the nest while his father—he's been informed—recites stories
about his parents, allowing the young alpha to know them in ways he never did before.

He’s also spoken to Haneul about his family, and she’s always more than happy to reveal what a
bright force of nature his mother was, and how his father was a cunning mischief maker that
happened to be in possession of one of the strongest moral compasses the pack has ever seen, his
drive to right injustices getting him into even more trouble.

Jimin recognizes those traits in Jeongguk, both the old healer and his father claiming the same.

More than a few times he gives pause when he spots his mate seated in the thawed gardens with
Minhei of all people, the flowers seeming to bloom around them as the two speak at length, and
later, it appears as if his mate has begun teaching the beta the basics of woodcarving.

“The boy has nobody,” Jeongguk answers when Jimin asks him about it one night, the two seated
in the matching armchairs that are angled towards each other in front of the hearth, the alpha’s tone
quiet as he divulges more. “He needs someone to help him navigate the world. Someone to guide
him.”

“And you’ve taken on that role?”

“I have,” he replies with a bit of epiphany, as if only just coming to a decision himself.

In all honesty, Jimin couldn’t be more pleased.

“Then he’ll be fine,” the omega assures with confidence. “He has a good mentor.”

Jeongguk looks at him with so much love it steals his breath away, and the two of them gain their
feet simultaneously, heat igniting when they collide like two burning stars that reform as they fall
through the universe, their connection thrumming.

By the time Jimin is fed up with resting, Jeongguk has organized and led numerous hunting parties
into Soksagim Forest, more familiar with it than anyone else in the pack, and it isn’t long before
Jimin joins them, better with a bow than the rest of the village, led to game that Yoongi and
Jeongguk track, the two preferring to stay in their wolf forms while doing so. When they're not in
the forest to hunt, they're there to gather herbs and spices, keeping the healers stocked for their
poultices and salves, along with providing for the cooks to better prepare their meals and store food
for the coming seasons.

The village is still in the cusp of spring when Jeongguk finishes Eunoia’s new home, and Jimin
nearly loses his voice from showering the alpha in compliments over how well it turned out. They
bolt it up outside their window that day, both of them waiting with bated breath as she checks it
over, the opening facing the small outcropping along their window so they can watch.

“She’s scrapping the nest,” Jeongguk whispers excitedly behind him, his chest blanketing Jimin's
back as he wraps him up in his arms, chin hooked over his shoulder and elation filling his tone.
“That means she likes it.”

Jimin knew she would, the hollowed out stump more natural than her wooden toy house ever could
be. It’s the other screech owl they have to worry about. The male who’s been courting her.

They don’t have to wait long for him to show up, quickly entering the nest with Eunoia and he
doesn't come back out again, a clear indication that he finds it suitable as well. Jimin and Jeongguk
share a giddy look, the omega proud when he whispers, "You did it, love," warmth pooling in his
tummy when Jeongguk buries his pleased smile in his neck, the two swaying back and forth.

Over the next few days, Eunoia can be seen flying by the window, bringing all manner of things
for the nest. Sticks, twigs, straw and feathers, getting settled, until the time comes that she no
longer leaves the stump.

“It’s likely she’ll lay her eggs soon, if she hasn’t already,” Jeongguk reveals one night as they read
together by the fire, and Jimin is surprisingly overwhelmed by the prospect.
“She’s going to have little children of her own.”

The smile Jeongguk directs his way is filled with affection when he nods in agreement.

“She is. We’ll get to see them for a few weeks as they learn to take flight, but then they’ll move on
to claim territories of their own, while Eunoia and her mate remain.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” Jimin hums, once again tracking the male as he flies by the window
with a fresh kill for Eunoia. “We have to give each of them a name. Her mate as well.”

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“I’d have to see them first, but for him, I think…" Jimin envisions his dark plumage, how he seems
to be the opposite of Eunoia, and decides with a small smile, "Caligo."

Jeongguk's grin widens, that sparkle to his eyes that never fails to ensnare Jimin's attention getting
brighter.

"Caligo it is."

________________

Summer
“The Captain of the guard moving out of the barracks,” Jimin grins, delighting in the way
Namjoon becomes so easily flustered, pink dusting his cheeks. “I wasn’t sure if this day would
ever come.”

“Honestly,” Namjoon starts, readjusting his grip on the overfilled crate that holds his belongings,
“I wasn’t so sure it would either.”

“You always were stubborn.”

The alpha stops in his tracks just to be able to give him a pointed look, and Jimin can’t help but
laugh, taking a few folded pieces of clothing off of the top of his pile to help with the instability of
his armful.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your new home.”

Namjoon’s expression turns fond, the two falling into step beside each other, and Jimin can’t resist
the urge to tease a bit further.

“How do you think your men are going to handle you leaving?”

The Captain lets free an undignified snort, his crate of personal effects shaking as he laughs.

“You make it sound like I’m leaving my position rather than changing where I sleep. And they’ll
be fine. They know what’s expected of them.”

“How did they take the news?” Jimin asks, eyeing the fresh mating mark on the side of his guard’s
neck. “Anyone I need to exile?”
He’s entirely serious.

The Captain laughs again and shakes his head with genuine mirth in his eyes when he answers,
“Don’t exile anyone. Besides, they’ve all been supportive. So far, anyway.”

“Good. It better stay that way.”

Namjoon's laugh tapers off to a chuckle, knocking their shoulders together, and Jimin returns the
gesture, the two falling quiet as they make their way to Seokjin’s cabin near the forge, the same
one he inherited from his family, the alpha himself watching them from the porch with a soft gaze.

“Is that really all you have?” Seokjin calls out, to which Namjoon shrugs, almost bashful about it,
and Jimin doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing the two being cordial let alone hopelessly
smitten with each other.

He passes off his pile of clothes into Seokjin’s waiting arms, the alpha quietly thanking him, but
the majority of his attention is fixed on Namjoon, and he takes the opportunity to glance at the
matching mating mark on the opposite side of his neck, indescribably happy that two of his dearest
friends are finally settled.

Jimin leaves them there, his departure practically going unnoticed, and eagerly seeks out Jeongguk,
finding him in the courtyard with Minhei as the beta shows off the small owl carving he’s recently
completed. His mate waves him over when he senses his presence, beaming as he studies the
carving the boy proudly shows him. There’s imperfections, knicks in the wood, or a
disproportionate left side, but for a first attempt it’s beyond impressive, Jeongguk swearing he has
an eye for it. Jimin joins in with both praise and congratulations on his improvement, Minhei’s
skill in the craft increasing quickly.

The light is fading fast, but the three of them linger, a gentle breeze sifting through the long grass,
before lifting to dance through both Jimin and Jeongguk’s hair, the strands following the influence
of the current, the air crisp and fresh, and Jimin thinks this, this moment, is what contentment feels
like.
 ________________

Jeongguk and Jimin make several trips into Soksagim Forest, leaving Jin in charge when they do,
gathering precious items and belongings from the alpha's home in the woods, seeing to the cabin's
care while they gather the possessions Jeongguk doesn't wish to leave behind, taking advantage of
the caves before they go.

When they return, a message is brought up to their room just after they’ve resettled and finished
their morning meal together, sent from their allied pack to the north in response to the letter Jimin
himself was finally able to draft once the snow had melted, the route between their villages safer to
travel with the changing of the seasons. He felt compelled to inform them of the fate their previous
pack mate’s met once stumbling into their territory, detailing what Haesoon and his followers
attempted to carry out.

His eyes skim over the words, a small smile upturning his lips when arms encircle his waist, the
smell of rosemary and cloves combining with polianthes and petrichor in a way that sets his omega
at ease, the alpha clearly sharing in the sentiment, humming in appreciation against his scent gland
until Jimin's body begins to ignite from within.

"What's that?" Jeongguk wonders, taking in the scroll, and Jimin leans back, his mate easily
supporting him.

"It's a letter from the leader of the Lee pack, shedding light on why the alphas from the north were
exiled, and expresses apologies and regret for the harm they caused here. Apparently he's sent
supplies to help us rebuild, which should arrive within the coming week."

"Generous of him."

Jimin makes a low noise in his throat, nearly whining in disappointment when Jeongguk leaves his
neck.
"Why were they exiled?"

"For reasons I'm sure you've already guessed. They attempted to corner an unwilling omega who
had just gone into heat, but were discovered."

It's quiet after that distressing information is revealed, but even so, Jimin can feel the alpha's muted
fury.

"All of them deserved worse than what they got in the end," he growls, returning to Jimin’s neck as
if he needs that comfort, the vibrations of the words rumbling little earthquakes that roll out like
waves over the surface of his skin.

He couldn't agree more, but it's over now, and with each new day Jimin continues to heal, his
aversion to touch from anyone other than Jeongguk passing, and he's witnessed the same change in
Taehyung, the mark that was left on them fading slowly with time.

"It's done," he murmurs, surprised that all he wants to do is move on with his life.

Tossing the parchment on the writing desk in the corner, he grabs Jeongguk's hands and turns in his
arms in order to pull him towards the vanity.

"Help me with my hair today?"

"Of course," the alpha easily agrees, already smiling. "Let me get the pins."

He stops when Jimin shakes his head.

"Don't want to pin it. I think I'd like the majority of it loose, with a plait across my crown."

Jeongguk is momentarily speechless, lips parted, and Jimin feels his smile widen as it's clear the
alpha becomes emotional, the stars in his eyes winking as they shine. "Can you do a plait, my
love?"

"I can do that, sweetheart," he softly reassures, and Jimin loses himself to the easy pleasure of
fingers carding through the long, silvery-white strands in reverence.

When he’s done, Jimin inspects his work in the mirror and gives a warm smile of approval.

“You’re quite good at this.”

“I have many talents,” Jeongguk answers with a teasing grin, and Jimin’s own smile turns
suggestive.

“I’m well aware.”

The alpha appears as if he’s about to say something when his eyes narrow, a light filling them that
he can’t help but think is somewhat whimsical.

“Do you hear that?”

Jimin strains his ears at the question, and there, through the open window, he hears the soft sound
of chirping.
“Eunoia’s children,” he murmurs as they quietly make their way to the sill, placing his hands on
the wooden ledge as he leans out to spy on the nest, a hand at his lower back there to steady him,
the spring breeze refreshing.

“I would say it’s feeding time,” Jeongguk whispers near his ear, trying to get a look as well.

Jimin’s sensitive hearing picks up what sounds like three—no, four distinctive chirps, and he can’t
help but beam.

“Sounds like she has her hands full.”

“It does.”

“But I’m sure she handles it just fine. I bet she’s a really good mother.”

It’s quiet for a moment until Jimin feels compelled to turn, taken aback by the love in Jeongguk’s
expression that emanates even past lowered lids, his heart fluttering at the intensity of that gaze.

“I’m sure she makes a really good mother too, pup.”

Jimin smiles again, placing a gentle kiss to those cupid’s bow lips, the sound of baby owlettes
swelling around them.

________________
"Flower crowns," Taehyung says one day at his door, holding a woven basket filled with freshly
picked blooms from the gardens and appearing as if minutes away from becoming hysterical.

"Right," Jimin says, not wanting to question him as he pulls the other omega inside, quickly
shutting the door behind him. "Flower crowns."

"Like the ones we used to make when we were pups. I’ve decided I need them for my mating
ceremony, only, it's days away now and I haven't even started—"

Waving away his panic, Jimin settles them down on the rug in front of the unused hearth to begin
weaving the flowers into suitable hair accessories, doing the majority of the work as Taehyung
often seems to lose himself in the maze of his thoughts.

“Nervous?”

“Yes. But only insofar as the ceremony is concerned. If I could be mated to Yoongi now, I would
be. You know how I get, and I want this to be perfect."

Jimin nods, wishing he could help relieve some of that tension and stress the other omega is clearly
going through.

“Well, as you said, it’s only a few more days now, and then you can just focus on the new life you
and Yoongi are going to build together.”

Taehyung’s smile warbles as his eyes fill with tears, and Jimin immediately sets the blossoms that
he gathered down on the rug in order to take him into his arms, Tae laughing at his own expense as
Jimin rocks him back and forth in an effort to soothe.
“What is wrong with me? The idea of being with that ridiculous alpha makes me so happy I can’t
stop weeping.”

Jimin hides his wide smile in the top of those fluffy curls, body shaking as he quietly laughs as
well, unbothered by the tears sinking into the front of his tunic as the other omega sniffles.

“Isn’t it lovely? To be so exultant about the future that it can bring on such a passionate response.”

Taehyung nods against him, words muffled against Jimin’s tunic when he adds, “It’s a most
welcome change.”

Guiding him back, Jimin uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears from beneath his friend’s eyes,
the two sharing an affectionate smile before they get back to work.

Jeongguk finds them like that hours later, Taehyung gaining his feet and placing a kiss to the top of
Jimin's head in thanks, Jeongguk and him embracing in greeting before the other omega gifts them
both with one last smile before he leaves with his basket full of completed woven crowns.

When they’re alone, Jeongguk delights in plucking free the flowers caught in Jimin's hair that
lingered from all the wreaths he tried on, running their soft petals over the bare skin of his
shoulders as he reveals them, followed by open-mouth kisses as he slowly removes his omega's
clothes, tracing florets up and down his glorious and naked form, all the while swearing that the
polianthes scent that belongs to Jimin is far sweeter than an entire garden full of flowers.

________________

“Come back sweetheart,” Jeongguk whines from their bed, sprawled out and disheveled against the
furs, chest still heaving as the sweat on his skin glistens as it dries.

It’s tempting, but the moon is high, the windows are open, summer air sweet, and Eunoia and her
children are out.

“Come look,” he says in a counter offer, leaning on the sill as he watches the owlettes—so much
more grown than they were the last time he spied them—flit about the opening in the nest, a few of
them spreading their wings to take flight.

“Which one is that one,” Jeongguk asks, suddenly right behind him, the tackiness of his skin
causing them to stick together, the summer humidity making it worse, but Jimin wouldn’t change it
for the world.

“Maereki,” Jimin beams, eyeing the dark owl with tufts of white near her brow as they watch her
soar to the overhang just past their window. “She’s a bit more ahead than the others. Daring little
thing.”

“And the one dozing in the opening?”

Jimin beams at the tiny black screech owl, one bright yellow eye peeking open as if aware he’s the
subject of conversation.

“That’s Kalon. He’s very easy going compared to the rest of his siblings.

“And the two playing in the nest?”

“Selcouth and Balter. So far they don’t yet seem interested in venturing out.”
“Give them time to get curious enough. Soon, they’ll be learning to hunt on their own.”

Jimin’s tone takes on a telling tinge of melancholy.

“That means they won’t be here for much longer. Is it possible to be both happy and sad about
that? It’s been amazing to watch them grow. But very soon it’s likely we’ll never see them again.”

Jeongguk wraps him up tighter, burying his nose right over his mating mark as he inhales deeply
from his skin, his words shooting electricity over the surface when he speaks.

“I feel the same way, sweetheart. But I also think, regardless of how bittersweet it is now, later
we’ll look back on this memory fondly,”

Jimin grins, his arms lying overtop of Jeongguk’s while he presses back against him.

"My wise alpha. Perhaps I'm too sentimental."

"You're not too anything, pup. You're perfect."

The two watch as the stars and the moon give just enough light to observe the owlettes, the omega
giggling as he finally does let his mate drag him back to their bed.

________________
Taehyung’s mating ceremony takes place outside on a mild summer day, the cool breeze running
through Jimin’s hair and the thin material of his soft, green tunic, the smell of bergamot, citrus,
marjoram and mint prominent from the soon-to-be-mates’ happiness.

Jimin stands with Namjoon to the right of the archway—which has been beautifully decorated with
wildflowers—marking him as a witness for Taehyung. He’s been having too much fun
purposefully fluttering his lashes across the way at Jeongguk, who stands next to Seokjin in
support of Yoongi, the omega far too pleased with himself every time he causes his mate to look
down with that enamored grin, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to reveal the mole beneath.

They pay better attention once Hoseok steps in the middle of the archway to officiate the
ceremony, but only just.

It’s short, but sweet, the entire pack in attendance, the union receiving several blessings, including
from the old head alpha and the new. An outdoor feast is prepared afterwards, and while everyone
eats their fill, Jimin takes the opportunity to reveal the recently finished gift he had built for the
couple, laughing through the watery hug Taehyung wraps him up in, Yoongi appearing both
grateful and relieved.

The walls between their two rooms really are entirely too thin.

“You didn’t have to,” Taehyung sniffles through his tears, to which Jimin throws his head back
and laughs again, wrapping the omega up in another hug.

“No. I really really did,” he giggles, Taehyung joining him with reddened cheeks. “I only hope you
can be happy here.”

“I already am, and I haven’t even seen the inside yet.”

Once he wipes his tears away, Jimin gives them both a tour, with Jeongguk lingering near the front
entryway as if he doesn’t wish to intrude, mouth showcasing a small grin and an expression that
Jimin can’t quite place but is drawn to. He exits the modest cabin without a word to the couple
inside, granting them their privacy, and clasps his hands behind his back as he sidles up to his
mate.

“What has you looking like that, love?” He wonders, stomach fluttering when that intense gaze
follows him, a familiar desire running the length of their shared connection until Jimin is no longer
sure of its origins.

“We didn’t have anything like this,” Jeongguk starts, sounding contemplative. “A ceremony, I
mean. Is that something that you would want?”

Jimin takes a moment to consider it, and finally shrugs in answer.

“Not particularly,” he offers truthfully. “I feel like if we were to have one, it would be more for the
pack’s sake than our own. But that’s just how I feel about it now. Maybe I’ll change my mind later
on. Unless of course you feel differently.”

Jeongguk pulls him into his arms then, placing a sweet kiss to his temple.

“I’m lost when it comes to these customs,” he admits, and Jimin burrows into his neck, scenting
him until he feels the tension release from those shoulders.

“I think you’re doing amazing so far. Besides, the real fun begins at night.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm. At night,” he murmurs, leaning up to whisper in the alpha’s ear, “we strip down and
shift to run beneath the moon.”
Jeongguk gives a pleased growl against Jimin’s throat, and he wishes more than anything that they
could sneak off, but there are appearances to keep up, especially from the high alpha and omega.

By the time the sun sets, Jimin’s omega feels as if it’s buzzing, more than ready to bring about the
transformation. Yoongi and Taehyung shift first, Jimin sinking down to the malleable earth as he
invites it as well, his own gaze locked with Jeongguk, swears he can see twin flames in those eyes;
holding something wild and feral trapped inside, shivering as the change takes hold. The rest of the
pack follows, the mated pair leading them out of the village walls and around Lake Geoul, the
water lapping at the shore from the same wind that ruffles Jimin’s fur as he runs, a black wolf
pressing in close to his side, and for a moment he swears he soars.

Jimin is still happily surprised when everyone willingly enters Soksagim Forest, Jeongguk
responsible for swaying their minds on the dangers of it, and he’s so very glad that he did, the act
of running through the trees invigorating in this form, his wolf yipping in delight.

Something nudges his flank again, and Jimin feels exhilaration as he looks back and sees that big
black wolf keeping pace, and he eagerly follows when his mate breaks off from the rest of the
pack, leading him away. Together, they weave through the trees, dirt kicked up as they push
harder, the moon bright and full above them, lighting the path to a secluded circle of trees that
shields a bed of moss and soft clover.

They’re on each other as soon as they change back, nearly manic when they pull each other in.
Jimin claws and scrapes at the other while Jeongguk swallows down his noises, following him
once he leans down, hands going to the backs of his thighs as he lifts, finding leverage against a
tree that he pushes the omega against, legs automatically wrapping around that narrow waist,
sighing when the head of Jeongguk’s thick cock bumps against the cleft of his bare backside.

Maybe it’s the veil between their wolven nature and humanity thinning, but Jimin feels like a near
amalgamation of the two, the only similar experience he can compare it to is being in heat, but this
isn’t that.

No, this is something different.

They rock against one another, desperate to fuck and be fucked as that dick forces its way between
Jimin’s cheeks, slick copiously leaking in order to ease the friction as Jeongguk humps against
him, the noises he makes resembling growls while Jimin whimpers and whines, needing him
inside.

There isn’t any preparation, but Jimin is wet and ready from the sheer amount of times that they’ve
done this. Hooking his feet at the ankles, the omega tightens his arms around his alpha’s neck and
holds on as Jeongguk finally fucks up into him, sheathing his hot, engorged cock in one swift
thrust, letting out a guttural groan while Jimin’s eyes roll up, a strangled cry leaving his own lips.

Jeongguk thrusts in slow and deep, retreating until only the head remains inside before rocking
back in again, hands going to Jimin’s ass in order to control the pace, lifting him up only to let him
go so he slams back down again, a happy victim of gravity when that spot inside is mercilessly
pounded.

“Gonna fuck you so good. Breed you so full until you’re swollen with it.”

A hand traces over Jimin’s belly and his mouth falls open at the implication, eyes wide even
though he’s unseeing, omega salivating. Jeongguk doesn’t usually talk like this. Doesn’t allude to
such things, and Jimin wonders if he’s near rut. If he’s finally—

All thought flies out of his mind as Jeongguk fucks in faster, harder.

“Say it. Say my name.”

“Jeon—Jeongguk.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, alpha. I belong to you.”

“That’s right, pup.” Fingers trace over his hole, adding pressure where they’re joined, even as he
keeps up the pace. “Who’s cock were you made for?”

“Yours,” Jimin cries, tears wet from the intensity of the pleasure, his omega begging to be let out to
present and submit.

Two fingers enter alongside Jeongguk’s shaft, crooking to feel at his walls, stretching him further,
and Jimin’s toes curl, sure he loses all ability to function, until he swears he’s left the forest, that he
instead drifts up towards the clouds, Jeongguk’s crooning voice calling him back.

“You take it so well. Were made to take it. Made for me,” he punctuates with a sharp thrust and a
rumbling voice as if he’s being challenged.

All Jimin can do is tighten his arms and his legs and hold on.

Somewhere through the haze, a hand reaches down and wraps around his cock, stroking until his
orgasm is wrenched out of him, body going taut, hole constricting on that length inside as it
continues to swell further, the base forming a knot that Jimin isn’t sure he’ll survive taking after
this, already wracked with aftershocks. But even so, Jeongguk keeps stroking, forcing Jimin to stay
hard, his other hand pushing more fingers past his rim.

“Have to get you ready. I have so much to give you, sweetheart. So much.”

Jimin whines pitifully, feeling the way the knot stretches his rim each time the alpha pumps back
in, not at all hindered by his hand in the way.
“You ready pup? Gonna take it all?”

Jimin nods frantically, out of his mind.

“I’ll take it,” he swears. “All of it.”

The alpha loses his rhythm, fevered as he fucks in faster, Jimin’s rim nearly sucking in the entirety
of his knot before it's pulled back out of him again, rocking against his ass once, twice, and then
finally sinking fully inside until they’re locked together, that cockhead pressed right into that spot
as come starts to flood inside. It triggers his second orgasm, which is almost painfully drawn out as
Jeongguk’s hand returns to his abdomen again, pressing over his belly while he fills his insides
with seed, the shape of his dick an obscene imprint in his skin, and Jimin swears he comes again.

Or maybe that’s just Jeongguk’s climax that he experiences through their bond.

Whatever it is, he blacks out.

Jimin is slow to wake, but when he does, instead of a canopy of trees, he’s greeted by the ceiling in
their bedroom, with no memory as to how they got there, safe in their bed, the furs tucked in
around him.

“There you are. I was beginning to worry.”

Jimin turns at the sound of that voice, until Jeongguk’s wide, doe-eyes fill his vision, a dopey smile
gracing his lips as he frames the alpha’s face with heavy hands, squeezing his cheeks as much as
he’s able until they pucker.
“Hello.”

Jeongguk’s smile is fond but still worried.

“Hi. How are you feeling?”

"A bit confused. How did I get here?"

"I carried you?"

"Oh, of course, all the way from the forest."

Jeongguk grins at the barely subtle admiration he hears in the omega's voice, the backs of his
fingers caressing over Jimin's flushed cheeks.

"Other than confused," he starts in a quiet whisper, "how are you feeling?"

"Warm, and relaxed," Jimin murmurs. "You were amazing tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely," he grins, tracing his nose along Jeongguk's jaw, their combined scents lingering on
his skin. "What about you," he tests, "how do you feel?"
His earlier behavior in the forest still sits on his mind, and Jimin doesn't want to get his hopes up,
but he can't help it, praying it's a sign the alpha is near rut.

"Fulfilled."

One word and Jimin's lights up from the inside, that sensation deepening when Jeongguk moves
just enough to reveal the tub behind him.

"How does a bath sound, sweetheart?"

"I love you," is his answer, the two of them beaming at each other as the alpha carries him towards
the heated water.

He leaves the speculation alone, deciding it best to just enjoy things as they come.

________________

The next few days Jeongguk becomes…territorial, if not clingy and possessive. If Jimin is out of
his line of sight for longer than a few minutes, his mate tracks him down. If he's giving attention to
Namjoon or Yoongi as they fill him in on important matters or social ones, Jeongguk hovers, his
hand conforming to the back of Jimin's neck, fingers tightening to pull him in close, nose burying
directly over his scent gland to take deep pulls as he breathes him in.

He doesn't seem to realize he's doing it for the most part, the behavior coming in waves before it
disappears again, leaving the alpha calm, like nothing out of the ordinary is occuring.
They're in one such loll as they read together in their room, the alpha moving in his peripheral
vision.

“Look,” Jeongguk breathes out in exaltation from the armchairs they sit on in front of the hearth,
his gaze drawn to the open window that shows off the sinking sun, the breeze cool at dusk.

Jimin’s eyes follow his, marking the page in the book he’d been reading with his hand, and gasps
at what he sees.

“They’re so big now,” he marvels, Eunoia’s children grown.

“Looks like they’re practicing hunting, becoming self-sufficient. Won’t be long now.”

“Don’t say that, I’ll be sad to see them go,” he says with a frown before adding, “even if I haven’t
technically been able to see much of them.”

When Jimin looks back, Jeongguk is smiling at him with a look that steals his breath away.

“What?”

“You have a beautiful soul, Park Jimin.”

He doesn’t know what brought on the declaration, but Jimin’s eyes blur with unshed tears that
threaten to fall.
“Why would you say that,” he whines, wiping at his lids, not missing the way Jeongguk’s smile
softens further.

“I don’t know. It was just a thought that I felt like I couldn't contain.”

Jimin’s scent thickens, and so too does Jeongguk’s in response.

He nearly springs from his chair, desperate to show the impassioned fervency in which he feels,
with both affirmations and physical touch, only to be halted by Jeongguk slowly shaking his head,
that fire in his eyes causing his body to thrum, tongue tracing his lips that have suddenly gone dry.

“Not yet, love. We’re expected in the Great Hall soon. And I want to take my time with you.”

Not yet.

“But after?”

“After,” the alpha confirms.

Jimin is sure the anticipation will be his undoing.

________________
In the end, Jeongguk doesn’t experience a full rut. The symptoms are there, but more tempered,
and rather than being a constant state, it comes and goes the way a rut would not, replaced by long
periods of clarity before disappearing entirely.

It’s both promising and frustrating.

Jimin himself doesn’t experience anything like it with his heat, his body remaining in a dormant
state when it comes to his cycle.

He’s helping Hoseok organize the fresh herbal plants he just gathered from Soksagim the previous
day when he broaches the subject after looking around the infirmary to confirm that they’re alone.

The beta’s brow furrows, tying twine around some yarrow as he poses a question.

“Any fatigue or residual exhaustion?”

“No. I get more than enough rest these days.”

Thanks to Jeongguk.

“What about your sexual drive? Any problems there? Lack of interest?”

“Definitely not,” Jimin snorts, Hoseoek chuckling beside him.

“What about Jeongguk then? What was he doing before experiencing that rut-like state?”
Jimin doesn’t have to think about it for long.

“It was during Taehyung’s mating ceremony. He shifted.”

“Ahhhh,” Hoseok hums, hanging the bushel up to dry. “That may explain it.”

“How? I shifted as well, and nothing happened.”

“Yes, but he shifts more often than you do, if I’m not mistaken. Doesn’t he hunt in his other
form?”

Jimin’s lips take on a pout as he quietly concedes.

“Heats and ruts are part of our wolves biology. A time when alpha and omega are brought to their
basic instincts in order to satisfy that compulsion in the more animalistic side of our nature.
Perhaps if you were to bring your wolf to the surface regularly the same way your mate does, then
it could trigger your cycle.

Jimin considers it as he separates the sage from turmeric, endeavoring to give the suggestion a try.

He'd try anything at this point.

________________
 Autumn

The weather takes a quick turn from the warmth of those long summer days, to the sun sinking just
a little bit sooner, the temperature dropping, but even so Jimin continues to keep the windows
open, listening to the last songs of the crickets before they too begin to go quiet.

“Well hello,” Jeongguk beams upon entering their room one night from a meeting that ran late, the
door closing softly behind him as he admires the silvery-white wolf resting atop their bed.

The alpha approaches with surety, Jimin’s eyes slowly falling shut when a hand gently kneads
behind his ears, coming down to scratch along his jaw and under his chin.

“Aren’t you gorgeous in every form.”

Jimin is sure if he were human in this moment, he’d be flushed from the praise, and he suddenly
can’t stand being a wolf any longer, not when he could reach out to pull Jeongguk into him, use his
words to coax exactly what he wants.

He shifts back easily, his body handling the change well, as he’s been doing it so often lately, his
lack of heat presenting as an irritant he cannot be rid of, a rising need within him that is impossible
to satisfy.

Jeongguk’s breath hitches when fur gives way to skin, Jimin’s human form displayed
provocatively on his side, elbow pressed to the furs, hand cradling his head as he pulls his mate
down to hover over him.

“You really think so, alpha?”

Crimson floods those dark irises at the moniker, and Jimin’s blood boils beneath his skin, nearly
salivating to get those wretched clothes off of him so that he may appreciate the other in all his
glory.

“Oh yes,” Jeongguk groans, arms lifting above his head when Jimin yanks impatiently at his tunic.
“The most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen. My omega.”

“Yours,” Jimin hums against his lips, tracing them with the tip of his tongue, stopped by
Jeongguk’s next question.

“Why are you lounging about our room in your other form?”

Jimin groans in embarrassment and collapses down to the furs, throwing a hand over his eyes as he
recites what Hoseok suggested. A long stretch of quiet follows the explanation, but then
Jeongguk’s hands envelope his own, a surprised cry escapes past his lips as he's pulled from their
bed to his feet, confused when the alpha wraps his naked body up in his fur cloak with a rushed,
“It’s chilly out,” before he dons his own, the fur adequately hiding their current state of undress
before he leads Jimin towards the door.

“Jeongguk,” he grits out through clenched teeth, resisting the closer they get. “ Jeongguk, what are
you doing?”

He’s taken aback by how exhilarated the alpha looks when he turns back to him, those bright stars
in his eyes burning up into supernovas.

“It’s late, we’re likely not to bump into anyone at this hour. What your wolf needs is to run, pup.
Get outside and feel the wind on your face, not remain cooped up in here.”

Jimin nearly denies the suggestion, until he realizes he doesn’t have a reason to, his wolf whining
with a desire to fulfill those words, the human aspect of his nature surprisingly finding it equally
appealing, the tension released from his body as he willingly follows his mate out of their room and
down the stairs, his free hand keeping the opening in his cloak tightly together, just in case.

The corridors are deserted, but even so the two remain hypervigilant as they sneak out, giggling
like young pups causing trouble when they manage it. It becomes less fun and more embarrassing
when the alpha speaks to the soldiers that guard the gate, even though no questions are asked while
it’s opened for them, the two traversing the open terrain towards Lake Geoul and the forest
beyond. They shed themselves of their coverings; and in Jeongguk’s case, the rest of his clothes,
Jimin finding the shift to be just as easy and quick as it was before.

They nip at each other’s ears, Jeongguk’s tongue licking over his maw as Jimin playfully drops his
front legs down, Jeongguk excitedly following suit, the two playing before taking off into the trees
together. They run for what feels like hours, Jimin’s senses titillated and alive, the breeze ruffling
through his fur as Jeongguk pursues, never once taking the lead from his mate, as if eager to see
where Jimin will take them.

The silvery-white wolf circles back around, leading them out of the forest again once he tires, body
overheated, wolf panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly once he changes back, barely able to
catch his breath as Jeongguk does the same.

But even exhausted as he is, Jimin still feels as if he’s flying out there in the woods, the animal in
him experiencing this strange kind of harmony with his other nature, a settled kind of peace he's
never been lucky enough to feel.

Grabbing their clothes, Jimin pulls Jeongguk towards the lake, the alpha narrowing his eyes as he
guides him onto the dock.

“What are you doing, pup?”

“I’m hot.”

“I doubt you will be for long, it’s cold, and that water is probably freezing.”
But the omega shakes his head.

“The weather has only just started to turn. I’m sure it’s still warm from summer.”

Jeongguk snorts, but shakes his head endearingly, still making Jimin work to pull him along.

“Don’t you know how to swim, alpha?”

“I know how to swim.”

“Then come, swim naked with me beneath the stars.”

“You’re going to freeze.”

“Not if you keep me warm.”

Somehow, that works, the alpha braving the lake with him as the two jump in, coming up
spluttering on laughter, the temperature not actually as bad as Jeongguk’ feared it would be, but
certainly not comfortable, either. Immediately Jimin is pulled into his mates arms, his own
encircling the alpha’s neck, fingers burying in long dark strands that blend with the ink-like void of
the water that laps at their skin, the moon reflected off of it’s surface in ripples and catching on
Jimin’s skin. He wraps his legs around Jeongguk’s narrow waist, taken with the effortless strength
he demonstrates as he manages to support him and keep them both afloat, their lips brushing as
they breathe each other in.

“Have you cooled down yet, sweetheart?” He asks with a knowing glint in his eye, chest
shuddering when Jimin shakes his head.

“Feels worse now,” he murmurs, squirming in the alpha’s hold, the unmistakable shape of
Jeongguk’s big cock pressing into Jimin’s ass as he squirms.

“Does it,” he grows, one hand reaching between them to guide the head of his dick directly against
Jimin’s hole, unfurling like a blossoming flower as soon as he adds pressure. “Lets see what I can
do to make you feel better, hmm?”

Jimin’s answer morphs into a raptureous cry when Jeongguk fucks inside, the likes of which
echoes off of the water and trees, up to the very moon that illuminates them.

________________

They’re in full preparations for the coming autumn festival when the new stables are finally
finished, and it couldn’t come at a better time, with winter looming.

Both Jimin and Jeongguk are there the day it's deemed complete, helping to move the horses from
the barn they’ve been sharing with the livestock to their new home. Jimin guides Bongcha, of
course, while Jeongguk leads the Frisian he’s taken to calling Brontide, or Bront for short.

The transition is a smooth one, and the two of them delight in watching the horses investigate the
new space, tossing their heads in excitement at the extra room they have as they familiarize
themselves with their stalls. It’s a nice reprieve from overseeing the festival, which is arguably one
of the most important celebrations of Jimin’s pack as they welcome the harvest moon, equating to a
lot of pressure that comes with helping to oversee everything. Taehyung himself looks about as
frazzled as he did for his mating ceremony, the perfectionist in the both of them desperate to get
this right.

“Where do you want these?” Namjoon asks, a wheelbarrow full of pumpkins preceding him.
“Those go in the outer courtyard, framing the staircase. Any leftover can be placed on the tables,”
Jimin answers breathlessly while he fans himself, the alpha’s brow pinching in concern.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Why?” he wonders, his voice high-pitched at the end.

“You're flushed and sweating.”

“So?”

“It’s really cold in here, Jimin,” he explains slowly, as if speaking to a child, and the omega feels
his irritation spiking.

“Yes, well, I’ve been constantly moving around since dawn, so.”

He abruptly leaves the conversation, afraid he’ll snap for no reason, finding himself irritable all
day, nothing going as he intends it, only to find his attention pulled once he notices some of the
staff using the wrong colors for the banners.

It only gets worse in the coming days, body heavy and lethargic, heating up at random intervals
before calming again.

And his emotions. Jimin is in a constantly fluctuating state of fine before rapidly deteriorating to
being seconds away from either screaming or suffering a breakdown.
The day he no longer hears the owlettes, halting in his tracks when he takes note of Eunoia perched
atop one of the highback chairs as she cleans her feathers, rather than in the nest she's remained
inside of all this time, is the day he breaks down into sobs, nearly despondent until one of the staff
members informs Jeongguk, the alpha finding him a sniveling mess in their room.

“Oh sweetheart,” he whispers, picking him up to cradle in his arms on their bed as Jimin's
breathing hitches terribly.

“They’re gone.”

He’s rocked back and forth, his mate humming near his ear, assuring him with soft words that
everything will be okay. That this too shall pass until it doesn’t hurt anymore, never once making
him feel bad for how hard he's taking it, even though they both knew this day was coming.

His alpha’s gentle ministrations lull him to sleep, another wave of heat crashing over his body and
waking him again not long after, but he finds he’s no longer as upset as he was over the loss of
Eunoia’s offspring, mentally assuring himself that they’ve gone to live happy lives of their own.

Jimin thinks there must be something wrong with him, but then Jeongguk starts demonstrating the
same behavior, his moods shifting, focus suffering as his emotions over little things seem to get the
better of him in certain instances. There’s a lot of deep, measured breaths, the omega notices,
fascinated by the way Jeongguk’s nostrils flare as if extra sensitive, only at ease when the two of
them are alone in their room together.

He becomes a constant presence as the days pass, a shadow that clings to Jimin's back as if he’s in
danger, warding away anyone who gets too close, practically growling beneath his lips the second
Jimin becomes even slightly upset.

He equates it to the stress of the season, as well as how busy they’ve both been lately. But even
their combined exhaustion isn’t enough to keep them off of each other most of the night.
And in the morning.

And when they sneak away during midday meal, Jimin nearly fucked through the furs of their bed
with how often he finds himself impaled on Jeongguk’s cock, as if there’s an itch beneath his skin
he can’t satisfy until he’s hanging off of his mates knot and begging for more. Only then does he
feel normal.

Jeongguk is more than happy to oblige, his own appetites insatiable.

They really should’ve seen it coming.

________________

The festival doesn’t really get underway until the full moon is high in her sky, casting an orange
glow down to the earth, the bonfires lit as if their smoke pays tribute, rising to greet the stars.

Despite the chill of the season, the outer courtyard is warm, bodies pressed together in various
states of undress as they twist and grind in an alluring; almost animalistic dance, accompanied by
the pounding of drums that Jimin swears he can feel absorb into the surface of his skin, which is
bare at the torso, with symbols painted over the contours of his muscles that shine a radiant,
pigmented gold and catches in the light.

He’s restless upon the dias, despite the wine that flows freely, with an urge to move his body to the
song, though the idea of doing so amongst the crowd is unappealing. No. He’d do it here, if he
could, expel the heat and pray that the sweat over his form cools as he moves, nose confused by
the incense that burns and the scents that hang heavy in the air.
It feels like he’s on fire, cheeks flushed beneath the streaks of gold paint that adorn them, filled
with a buzzing energy that causes him to fidget where he sits beside his mate, swearing he can feel
the intensity of Jeongguk’s gaze boring into the side of his face. The alpha is new to this, but Jimin
can tell that he’s taken with this particular custom, The primitiveness of it likely appealing to his
wolven nature, and Jimin finds himself gripping the arms of his wooden chair as pleasure seems to
sing through their connection.

Lips caress along his ear, and Jimin’s trembling intensifies, words whispered in a deep, rumble
causing him to become even more sensitive.

“What’s got you squirming so much, sweetheart?”

His body burns hotter, a whine nearly tearing past his throat, but Jimin only just manages to keep it
reined in.

“Wanna dance,” he shudders, cock hardening beneath the fur-wrapped kilt he wears, wracked with
more heat as slick begins to leak past his rim.

Jeongguk’s eyes bleed, swirling with crimson when fingers gently grip his chin and coax him to
turn. To look.

“Then let's dance.”

Accepting his hand, Jimin is pulled from his chair, the alpha either well aware of his reluctance to
join the crowd below, or sharing in that reluctance with him. Whatever the case, they don’t
descend into the mass of writhing bodies, rather, Jeongguk pulls Jimin into his arms right there on
the empty platform, elevated and visible to the entire pack.

Jimin can’t get close enough, despite the fact that he’s currently sharing the same breath with his
mate, and in haste, he turns until his backside fits perfectly over Jeongguk’s groin, head falling
back to the alpha’s shoulder when he feels that big dick burning a thick line between the cheeks of
his ass, not at all subtle about rutting against him when Jimin himself rolls his hips back and forth
in desperation.

An arm sears over his bare chest, gripping into Jimin’s left pec, fingers framing the nipple on top
of the gold paint that does the same, while the alpha mouths along his scent gland, nipping at his
mating mark until Jimin feels slick drip down his thighs. Jeongguk’s hand slips down further,
fingers teasing across the bottom hem of the fur wrap he wears, more insistent until he can get to
skin as if he knows exactly what he’s looking for, what he'll find, and when those digits scape up
the viscous fluid of his arousal, Jimin is inclined to believe that to be true, whimpering when his
mate shoves those same fingers in his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the slick away,
moaning from the flavor.

“Fuck, sweetheart, how do you taste even sweeter than before?”

Jimin doesn’t know. Doesn’t really have any coherent thoughts other than pushing his ass against
Jeongguk’s cock until he can somehow manage to take it inside.

Jeongguk’s hand creeps higher up the kilt, and Jimin holds his breath as they sway, sharp teeth
sinking into his shoulder as two fingers simultaneously sink into his quivering hole, petting over
his walls before zeroing in on that spot inside that makes him—

Jimin sinks his own canines into his bottom lip when he moans, knees going weak, that arm over
his torso that holds him against the alpha’s body the only thing keeping him up. Those fingers are
merciless as they fuck into him, their pace so fast the sound of skin slapping against skin is the only
thing that fills Jimin’s ears as he shivers, lips parted, tongue practically lulling out as droll begins to
escape from the corners of his mouth and its—he’s…he’s on fire. His body is— fuck—

His eyes fly open, a brief moment of clarity reminding him where they are and what they’re doing,
the foggy haze slow to clear, and then—

He’s in preheat, and by his alpha’s response, Jeongguk is in prerut.

“Jeon—Jeongguk?” he stammers, trying to pull away, only for his mate to tighten his hold with a
growl as if someone is threatening to take Jimin from him.

Thinking quickly, he offers placating whines, turning in his mate's arms until he can look into
Jeongguk’s vermillion eyes, the stars snuffed out until only instinct remains. Jimin’s hands frame
his face, tongue curling out to lick over his lips, teeth and jaw, trembling from the resonate hum of
approval he receives, his own skin vibrating from the purr he releases, settling them both.

“Alpha,” he tries, mewling when those fingers continue to abuse his prostate beneath his shortened
skirts. “We need to leave, alpha. Your omega is going into heat.”

“My omega,” Jeongguk grits out, teeth snapping near Jimin’s mouth as if he wants nothing more
than to bite.

“I am yours,” Jimin reiterates, nuzzling beneath his chin. “And I need you now, alpha. Your
omega needs you.”

A bit of lucidity seems to enter those eyes, lids hooded as that brilliant blood-red color dims until
the alpha’s voice drops dangerously low when he makes a simple command.

“Run.”

Heart hammering in his chest, Jimin doesn’t stop to question the order, something predatory in his
mate’s eyes, and immediately turns and flees, jumping off of the dias to land on his feet before
sprinting away. He leaves the festival as fast as his legs will carry, the sound of the drums and
laughter fading from his hearing just as all those scents dampen and vanish, pushing himself to go
faster when he swears he hears quickening footsteps behind him, those red eyes ingrained in his
memory. Tearing through the deserted Great Lodge, Jimin climbs the stairs, slick causing his legs
to slide distractingly against each other until his pace suffers.
Jeongguk pins him face first against the wall just outside of their room, a hiss exhaled against the
lobe of his ear when he smugly whispers, “Not fast enough, little omega.”

Jimin releases pitiful whines at being caught, undermining that by squirming until he’s able to
wriggle his ass enticingly over that fat cock, desperate to be fucked. Somehow, Jeongguk rushes
them into their room, the door bouncing off of the frame before it’s forced shut as Jimin is lifted
and pressed against it, crying out when three fingers enter his leaking hole before he can even lift
his legs to wrap them around his mate's tiny waist.

“Pretty omega, so desperate to be filled. To be bred.”

“Yes. Fuck yes, please, breed me—”

“Yeah? Can you handle it, omega? Stretched out and bouncing on my cock,” his hand conforms to
Jimin’s stomach as Jimin’s breath hitches. “Belly stretched from all the come I fuck into you, over
and over again, until you’re begging me to stop but gagging for more, and that’s just what I’ll give
you until I’m sure it takes. Until you’re full of my pups.”

“Want it—need it.”

Jeongguk’s mouth slants over his own, tongue thrusting inside as he ruts against his ass, those
fingers merciless when they continue to spear inside. The scent of rosemary and cloves is just as
thick as polianthes and petrichor, the heat that rages inside Jimin’s body seeming to eradicate
what’s left of rational thought, until he’s a mindless creature, desperate to come.

"You're so wet for me," he praises, more slick gushing out of Jimin's opening as those fingers draw
away, replaced by the head of Jeongguk's dick to trace over his rim.

Jeongguk’s cock fucks up into him right there, the wood of the door rattling as he takes him fast
and hard, drawn in by the way Jimin throws his head back, those bow-shaped lips sucking and
biting over his throat as if his goal is to leave marks that resemble a necklace.
They’re a mess of tacky skin and humidity, Jimin’s partially transformed nails sinking into the
frame he holds onto for dear life, and when that’s not enough he buries them in Jeongguk’s back,
revealing in the growl he releases before he pounds in harder, the superficial wounds healing
quickly until Jimin rakes his hands over the flesh once more.

“Sound so pretty taking me, don’t you, omega. You’ll sound even prettier taking my knot. You
ready for it?”

Frantically, he nods, his moan turning into a keen as he’s held in place and ravaged, feeling the
base of his mate’s dick swell and inflate, pressure opening him up further until the knot is shoved
inside before it’s wrenched back out again. Entering him for a second time, and then a third before
his body refuses to let it go.

“That’s it, omega. Open up for me.”

Gods, it’s so fucking big, and Jimin’s head lulls down, watching the obscene outline of Jeongguk's
cock in his guts pump inside, the alpha’s hips barely able to recede as he grinds in directly over his
prostate.

Jimin’s eyes roll up when unbearable heat shots into him, his own orgasm as well as Jeongguk’s
crashing through their connection, jaw hurting with how wide he opens his mouth to impart a
scream.

The alpha waits until he stops coming, but he doesn’t wait for his knot to deflate before he begins
to pull out, the clutch of his body not yet ready to let him go, until Jeongguk’s fingers slip down,
massaging over his rim where they’re connected, pushing in beside the spherical mass in order to
stretch him open enough that he can pull free.

Jimin keens again when come begins to leak out from how he gapes open, clenching around air in
an attempt to keep it all inside. How else is it supposed to take if it doesn’t stay in?
The thought flies out the window a second later, Jimin squealing as he’s lifted even further until his
legs hook over the alpha’s shoulders, Jeongguk swallowing the entire length of his flushed cock in
one fell swoop.

Wailing, Jimin’s body arches against the surface of the door before curling over the alpha’s head,
his hips unable to help thrusting against his face, sinking deeper into his mate’s constricting throat.
The second time he comes he swears everything takes on a rosy tint, and he’s sure he’s forgotten
how to breathe, lungs burning while they attempt to gulp down air.

Jeongguk guides him off of his shoulders and back into his arms, carrying him over to their large
bed where he tosses him down onto his back, Jimin bouncing once, twice, until his ankles are
gripped and he’s promptly turned over onto his stomach. The omega cries out again when his alpha
buries his entire face in his ass, that long, dexterous tongue teasing over his rim before flicking
inside, his own copious release slurped up onto the tip of that appendage before he fucks it back in
again, only to repeat the process.

Hands aching from the death grip they have on the furs, Jimin struggles from the pleasure alone,
clawing at the bed until he manages to slide up it as if attempting to escape, only to be yanked back
down again by Jeongguk’s unrelenting grip.

“Where do you think you’re going, little omega. I’m not done with you yet. Not even close.”

Gods, Jimin hopes not, even as he plays at breaking free, addicted to the feeling of the alpha
forcing him back, climbing up his body to sink his dick into his used hole once more.

Cries echo up into the rafters, bouncing off of the stone to float back down to Jimin again, and he
isn’t sure who they originate from as he’s fucked into the furs, finding it difficult to breathe until
his mate directs his head to turn and he’s able to pant down breaths unobstructed. As soon as
Jeongguk comes for the second time, he doesn’t bother to stop, just grips the omega tight and rolls,
repositioning them so that the alpha is beneath Jimin this time, chest to back, rutting inside Jimin’s
messy opening as he plants his feet and continues to paint his insides in pearlescent white.
On and on it goes, Jimin brought to his knees, the back of his thighs cushioned by the top of
Jeongguk’s, ass resting in the alpha’s lap, torso suspended as his arms are pulled back, wrists
gripped in his mate’s hands and used like a tether to draw him down onto his dick, body jostled
like a rag doll before he collapses to the bed, the alpha’s strength keeping his ass up so he can hang
off of his knot. Another time he’s bent in half, lungs unable to inflate to their full potential,
deprived from the position, the lack of oxygen contributing to his pleasure. Or the way he's turned
onto his side, one leg held straight up with Jeongguk's arms wrapped around it while he pumps
between his spread cheeks. Once, he wakes up and Jeongguk is still fucking him, eyes glowing red,
a beastial frenzy to him as he chases his release.

It isn’t just him. When the alpha begins to tire, Jimin growls in impatience, climbing up to straddle
his mate, fingers encircling his throat to add pressure as he snaps his teeth, a warning to stay down
while he rides him until he’s come twice over those quivering abs, gladly allowing it when hands
frame his backside and force him up and down over that turgid length until Jeongguk finally forces
him back down to the furs in order to fuck him with better leverage. Sometimes they both pass out,
until Jimin is woken by that unbearable heat again, and he whimpers and cries pathetically until
Jeongguk fucks lethargically back inside to satiate him, the omega cooing over his bloated
stomach, demanding to be fucked and bred.

Other times Jeongguk revels in making him take it, putting him in some compromising position
that makes movement damn near impossible, the alpha grinning when Jimin can barely meet his
thrusts, or touch his body, frustrated over the deprivation until he’s able to make the alpha pay
during the next round.

It feels like he doesn't know who he is anymore. What he is. Neither wolf nor man, but a
unification of the two, just as there is between him and Jeongguk, existing in what feels to be
perfect harmony as they fight and fuck and sleep pressed as close to each other as possible.

Periodically, the door creaks open a crack, Jeongguk’s arms wrapping Jimin up and shielding him
with a threatening snarl, ready to attack and protect if need be. Jimin recognizes the Fraser Fir
scent of Hoseok, which always precedes two plates being set onto the floor, the door only opened
wide enough to allow them admittance before it’s pulled shut again, the mating pair never once
seeing the other wolf.

Jeongguk retrieves the food for them, Jimin’s mouth salivating more for that big, beautiful dick
that bobs obscenely between his alpha's legs rather than the food, watching as it slaps against his
toned stomach, transferring come and slick onto the skin near his navel that he wants nothing more
than to lick off. Jeongguk sits and uses his strength to easily maneuver Jimin onto his lap, a drawn
out moan ringing out around them when the cock he was just admiring plunges easily inside him to
the hilt, humming as Jeongguk feeds him with his fingers, smile far too lewd when Jimin chases
his skin with his tongue rather than the morsels he offers.

The delirium and heat builds and builds and builds until Jimin’s skin feels far too stretched over his
tummy, bloated with seed as he is, and he’s sure he can’t take anymore, until Jeongguk encourages
him, assuring him to take one more knot, just one more. And then it’s another, and another and
another, and Jimin fucking loves it. Never wants to stop.

Four days later, the fever breaks, Jimin on his side, a useless mess as Jeongguk thrusts wildly
behind him, uncoordinated and out of breath, but still trying.

“Gonna look so pretty swollen with my pups,” he husks, and Jimin wishes he could reach back and
grip his thigh, soothe him some way, but instead his eyes slip closed, losing himself to the back
and forth motions as Jeongguk humps against his reddened, sore ass, fucking copious amounts of
come out of him even as he adds more, the wet squelching sound of it causing the omega’s cheeks
to burn.

When next he wakes, Jeongguk’s eyes are clearer, a fondness to them that has Jimin overly
emotional.

“Hi sweetheart.”

Fuck, he missed being called that, just as he missed seeing the stars in the alpha’s eyes.

His own voice is shredded when he answers, but Jeongguk’s smile widens instead of wavers..

“Hi love.”
“Sore?”

Jimin nods.

“Is there any pain? Did I hurt you?”

He takes stock of his body, and other than aching muscles, exhaustion, and a tender, raw rim, he’s
fine.

“You didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”

“Gods, Jimin, so were you,” he breathes, placing gentle kisses across the bridge of the omega’s
nose as he pushes back his long, disheveled hair. "You did so well."

“Really?”

“So good for me, pup. Took everything I gave you and still wanted more. You’re perfect. So
fucking gorgeous, I’m the luckiest alpha in the world.”

Jimin blooms and preens under the praise, content when he’s wrapped up in his mate’s arms,
dozing lightly before Jeongguk begins to shift, a displeased whine leaving him when he’s
disturbed, onky to be soothed again by that comforting voice.

“Rest, love. I’m going to have a bath brought up.”

Jimin hums, sinking back into sleep easily, despite the cold from his alpha’s missing form.
When next he opens his eyes, Jeongguk carries him to the tub in the center of the room,
submerging them in the heated water and meticulously scrubbing them both until they’re clean.
Jimin happily allows it, enjoying being pampered and taken care of. Once they dry off, he’s placed
on the rug before the hearth while Jeongguk gets a fire going, moving back to change the bedding
before returning to run a comb through the damp strands of Jimin’s hair, the omega purring
loudly.

When they finally slip back into bed, Jimin can barely keep his eyes open, the last few days taking
a toll on him, hands moving to frame his tummy, as if the effort of their coupling has bore fruit. For
a moment, he indulges the thought, his imagination giving life to the image of a pup, resembling
both Jeongguk and him.

It’s a lovely fantasy.

“What are you thinking about sweetheart?”

“A baby,” he slurs. “Our baby.”

He can feel the alpha’s smile pressed to his mating mark, the vibrations of the hum he releases
causing him to shiver.

“It worked then? Think I bred you well enough?”

Jimin giggles and nods, pulling Jeongguk’s arms tighter around him, both their hands framing his
stomach now.

“Does the idea please you?”

Again, Jimin nods, slower this time, fingers tangling together.

“It’s not really something I’ve given much thought to,” he admits, listening to the fire as it crackles
away in the hearth. “It’s always been just another thing that’s expected of me. My duty as an
omega of my station is to provide heirs. But after what happened to my mother, it was one I faced
with reluctance. But with you…for the first time I’m genuinely excited by the prospect.”

Jeongguk somehow manages to pull him closer, the tip of his nose tracing over the curve of his
neck and down the slope of his shoulder.

“I’m excited too, sweetheart. I know how amazing you'll be with our pups, but there’s no rush. It’ll
happen when it happens. Another beautiful thing we’ll get to share together.”

Jimin’s smile widens, sleep courting him as Jeongguk’s fingers trace shapes over his belly.

“I wouldn't want to if it wasn’t you," he whispers like a secret. "You give me the courage to dream
for things I would never dare to before. I want everything with you. I love you.”

The alpha’s voice warbles when he answers, and though Jimin is too tired to turn, he wishes he
could see him at that moment.

“I want everything with you too, sweetheart. Would move mountains and divert rivers if it would
make you happy, because I need you more than air, and love you more than the word could ever
hope to define.”

Again, Jimin’s lips curl into a wide smile, his body sinking deeper into the furs beneath him.
“My alpha, ever the romantic.”

Jeongguk’s laughter follows him down into sleep, a contented sigh leaving him as he nuzzles
deeper into his neck.

“My pretty omega. In possession of the sweetest heart.”

Jimin breathes in, both their hands rising with the motion before they lower once he exhales,
Jeongguk’s whispered words reaching him even as he drifts.

“Sleep well, pup.”

He dreams of a family, one he is eager to meet.

________________

THREE YEARS LATER

Winter

The soft gurgles of the pup in Jimin’s arms nearly bring overwhelmed tears to his eyes, gently
laughing as the babe seems to discover he has the ability to blow bubbles from his saliva, jumping
when they pop unexpectedly. Bringing him closer, Jimin carefully bumps his nose to that tiny one,
giggling again when spit winds up on his cheek for his trouble.
“I don’t want to give him back,” he beams, snuggling the pup closer, looking up when Taehyung
snorts in amusement.

“You will tonight after he refuses to sleep and has blown through yet another set of clothes.”

Jimin's grin widens, his gaze falling back to the pup, eyes alight as he traces over his soft, round
features, heart swelling.

“Have you and Yoongi given him a name?”

“He likes Seongjin.”

“And you?”

“Oh, I like it too, but since he chose Hana’s name I’m making him think I don’t.”

Jimin shakes his head, his attention once again drawn to the babe in his arms as he coos, “I think
Seongjin suits him well.”

“Yes—Hana, love, don’t put that in your mouth,” Taehyung softly calls, the little toddler on the
floor pouting before releasing what looks to be a tracked-in clump of dirt.

Jimin scrunches his nose at her, and the girl's surly expression is replaced with a grin, showing a
hint of white.
“Is she—?”

“Yes,” Taehyung groans with the force of someone who has been deeply inconvenienced by such a
thing, “she’s teething already. And let me tell you, she’s not having a good time of it.”

Clicking beneath his tongue, Jimin rocks the pup in his arms and directs his sympathy towards his
other ray of light as she crawls across the rug.

“Poor thing. Have you spoken to Hoseok?”

“At length. He has a numbing salve for the gums, but she hates the stuff. Until we find something
she doesn’t take issue with, I’m afraid I’m in for many more sleepless nights.”

“Why don’t you go lay down, try and get some rest. I don’t mind watching them.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as if he never expected such an offer, even though Jimin has watched Hana
countless times in the past.

“You’re sure? Two is surprisingly a lot more to handle than one.”

“Of course. We’ll be fine. Now go. Rest.”

The other omega doesn’t need to be told twice, and Jimin manages to put Seongjin down for a nap
in the wooden cradle that Jeongguk made for them, devoting his attention to Hana while the pup
sleeps, making her a snack when she gets hungry, the little girl falling asleep shortly after.
They’re all clearly exhausted. A new addition to the family and a teething toddler would be an
adjustment for anyone, and with a smile he wonders how poor Yoongi is handling everything along
with the difficult expectations of his position as a soldier. Though he’s sure Namjoon is going easy
on him.

By the time the other omega wanders back out, blurry-eyed and slightly unsteady on his feet, it’s
midday, and the children are still asleep.

“What kind of magic do you possess, hmm? I can hardly get them to go down for naps these days,
let alone at the same time.”

Jimin shrugs, amused, his expression turning wistful as his gaze travels from Seongjin to Hana.

Taehyung notices, and is both cautious and hesitant when next he speaks.

“Have you spoken to Hoseok?”

“I have, and I spoke to Haneul before she passed. Tried all the fertility brews they knew of. All the
positions and foods and practices. Nothing worked. My mother had difficulty with having children
as well. Made producing heirs her whole life, until it took hers. I was told It could just be that I was
barren all along. Or that the poison damaged something vital within me.”

He says it as if it's inconsequential, and on some days it feels like it is, this simple fact that he is
incapable of having children. In most instsnces, it's hardly a thought on his mind. Other days—like
this one—the reality of it feels a bit sharp at the edges.

Taehyung’s hands grip his own, and Jimin gives a small smile at the gesture of comfort.
“I’ve honestly come to terms with it,” he says truthfully, no longer devastated like he was in the
beginning, and he’s happy that he gets more of an opportunity to focus on Jeongguk and himself.
“But sometimes,” he adds, eyes sweeping back over Tae’s sleeping children, “in quiet moments
like this, I can’t help but mourn what could’ve been.”

“Of course. You have every right to.” the other omega murmurs, sadness in his tone. “Does
Jeongguk know?”

“He knows. And he’s sworn over and over again that it doesn’t matter to him. That my ability to
have children was never an incentive to be with me. That he only wants me.”

When he looks up Taehyung’s own eyes have misted over.

“Oh Jimin, that’s lovely.”

“It is,” he smiles, “but it still complicates things. For one, we need an heir.”

The other omega sighs, leaning back in his chair as he considers.

“What about Minhei?”

But Jimin shakes his head, the topic already broached with their adopted son.

“We asked, but he doesn’t want it, and I cannot fault him. Though the stigmatism of subgender is
slowly disappearing, as a beta he says the idea doesn’t appeal to him, and the burden is a heavy
one.”
They both fall quiet, the sound of deep even breaths from the sleeping pups setting Jimin at ease.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers, not wanting to drag Taehyung into his problems. He has enough
to deal with already.

It’s a bit of a saving grace when Hana wakes up, groggy at first yet full of energy quickly enough.
Jimin crawls after her across the floor, elated by her sweet giggles when he chases after her,
blowing raspberries on her tummy once he catches her in his arms while Taehyung feeds a fussy
Seongjin.

Jimin takes his leave after Yoongi enters the cabin, denying his offer to walk him back up to the
Great Lodge before placing a kiss to the alpha’s cheek and showing himself out, allowing the
family some alone time.

There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground that is deeper than when he first arrived, large flakes
drifting slowly down like feathers in the wind. Jimin wraps his cloak tighter around himself as he
treks back up, exhaustion rearing its head after he finishes the climb, suddenly desperate for a nap
in his room while the fire roars in the hearth.

When he finally makes it there, Jimin is out of breath with sweat dotting his hairline, immediately
removing his cloak to hang up by the door in the hopes that he’ll be more comfortable. There’s
already a fire roaring, the room warm, and Jimin smiles when he spots Eunoia perched near her
house with her daughter burrowed under her wing.

Serein is smaller than her with the majority of her plumage overtaken by ivory, while a black
speckled pattern that she inherited from her father is interspersed throughout, though her striking,
reddish pink eyes she acquired from her mother. She’s the runt of Eunoia’s last clutch, and one
who very nearly didn’t survive, as Caligo couldn’t keep up with providing fresh kills for their
offspring, and even Eunoia found it difficult on those rare occasions when she herself left the nest
in search of food. Jimin took it upon himself to feed them, and in so doing, developed a relationship
with Serein that affected her willingness to leave.

“Why do you think Eunoia doesn’t mind her here,” He’d asked of Jeongguk as they watched the
two dozing owls snuggled close near Jimin's neck.
“She’s getting older. Not as territorial anymore, I would guess.”

Whatever her reasons, Jimin is glad that she’s so taken with the smaller screech owl, and that she
now has a constant companion in her daughter.

Jimin sheds his clothes until he’s bare, finding the material irritating against his skin, and crawls
into bed, barely able to lift his limbs. Despite the weak sun shining through the windows past the
falling snow, his eyes are heavy, and he slips into sleep before he can fully settle onto his pillows

________________

“—imin? Wake up sweetheart.”

A smile curls his lips before he even opens his eyes, despite his face being swollen and his body
feeling achy.

“I know you’re awake,” an amused voice murmurs, the tip of a finger tracing down the slope of his
nose. “Naughty little pup. Falling asleep naked in winter.”

“It was hot in here,” Jimin defends, finally allowing his lids to flutter open, the breath leaving him
in a shuddering exhale when Jeongguk’s beautiful face fills his range of vision, the alpha’s form
hovering above his own on their bed, still dressed in dark leathers while Jimin is completely bare.

“It’s actually not that warm,” the alpha argues, Jimin’s breathing turning labored as he eyes his
mate lasciviously.
“Speak for yourself.”

That familiar look enters Jeongguk’s gaze, pupils slowly swallowing up the rest of his iris, and
Jimin reaches out, his insistent hand slipping inside his alpha’s trousers, reveling in Jeongguk’s
gasp and the way his lashes flutter prettily once his hand wraps around his rapidly hardening cock.

“Oh, looks like you’re hot too.”

Jeongguk growls, rutting into Jimin’s palm as bliss flits over his features.

The alpha is gentle with him, despite Jimin’s near feral insistence to the contrary, his omega
whimpering over the loving way in which Jeongguk takes him apart and builds him back up again,
their bodies igniting until they burn.

In the aftermath, Jimin feels as if he can’t catch his breath again, heart racing. His form sinks
heavily into the furs while Jeongguk sweeps the long strands of his hair away from his face, his
own dark tresses creating a curtain around them as he places gentle kisses to the apples of his
cheeks, and Jimin swears he could fall asleep again, just like this.

“We need to get cleaned up, pup.”

“Tired,” he slurs with a pout, not yet ready to move.

“Still? You just woke up.”

“You took a lot out of me,” he accuses with a giggle, fingers crooking before he straightens them
out again in the furs, searching—appeased once Jeongguk's hands slide against his own to
intertwine their fingers. “I spent a couple of hours playing with Hana as well. I can’t keep up with
her, she has so much energy.”

Jeongguk hums into his skin, and Jimin fancies he can feel his sweet smile pressed against his
neck.

“You know you mean everything to me, sweetheart?”

“I do,” Jimin whispers, heart continuing to hammer in his chest, a warmth filling up internally.
“Does that mean you’ll let me sleep some more?”

“Nope. We have to get cleaned up and head down to the Great Hall. Minhei has something he
wants to give you.”

Jimin’s grin widens, aware that the beta has been working on a project that he’s been rather mum
about.

“Fine, I’ll get up. But you have to clean me, okay?”

“The pack's head omega is a hedonist.”

Jimin bursts out into laughter, which turns into a squeal when the alpha picks him up and carries
him over to the basin with twin dimples indented in his cheeks.

________________
Seeing Jeongguk with the pack fills Jimin with numerous overwhelming emotions that he can’t
ever hope to overcome. He’s so good with them, and they love him in turn, the Great Hall filled
with laughter, conversations abundant as wolves flit between tables to socialize, the atmosphere
warm and easy.

Jimin watches his mate amongst the throng, surrounded by adoring wolves, Eunoia and Serein
resting on his shoulder beneath a long curtain of midnight colored hair, grinning as Minhei bestows
several of his wooden figurines to the young pups while they run around him excitedly, bragging
over their gifts, their parents chastising them to remember their manners and properly express their
gratitude.

There was a time Jimin had feared that the pack would shun the beta after the mistakes he made,
but he’s never been happier to be proven wrong. As soon as they saw their new high alpha taking
the young boy under his wing, the village came together and took it upon themselves to
collectively see to his care and betterment, and he continues to flourish because of it.

Minhei approaches the dias, something large cradled protectively in his arms and wrapped up in
what looks to be parchment. He places it on the table before Jimin, cheeks flushed in
embarrassment when the omega smiles up at the boy—a man, now.

"For me?"

Minhei nods, clearly still unsure of himself, and Jimin eagerly reveals what's beneath the paper, a
gasp leaving him at the sight.

It's a large carving of three owls that's been painted, one white, one black, and the one in the
middle a combination of the two, with distinctive patterns that he recognizes.

"Eunoia, Caligo, and Serein."

Minhei nods, fidgeting with his fingers as Jimin admires the amazing attention to detail.
"This is beautiful," he voices in awe, rising from his chair and circling around the table in order to
pull the beta into his arms, overly emotional when he whispers, "Thank you, son. It truly is a work
of art."

The beta squeezes him tighter, and Jimin nearly sobs from how overwhelmed he is.

"You have a gift for it," he swears once he pulls away, his hands taking Minhei's in his own. "I'm
so proud of you."

"That's all I've wanted to do these past years, is make you and Jeongguk proud of me."

"You have. Time and time again. We've been so lucky to see the man you've become."

Minhei himself looks as if he's seconds away from crying, giving a surreptitious sniffle as he
swipes at his eyes before attempting to collect himself again.

"Don't lift it on your own, okay? It's really heavy. Let me or Jeongguk know and we'll take it
upstairs for you."

"I will. Thank you again, son. I love it."

Minhei gifts him with the brightest and largest smile, nodding before he steps back off of the dias
in order to approach one of his friends, a sweet beta boy with pretty freckles across the bridge of
his nose, and Jimin can't help but watch the two, feeling strangely nostalgic.

“You know,” his father begins from his spot on the dias next to him, and three years later Jimin is
still getting used to the fact that he no longer sits in the intimidating—albeit comfortable—high-
backed chair that belongs to the head alpha, his own identical to Jeongguk's, his mate insisting he
have an equally opulent place to sit; which is both ridiculous and adorable, “in all the time I spent
leading this pack, I never once saw them this settled, this at peace.”

“Really?”

“We were still reeling from decades of war, and being under the rule of a tyrant. For many years
after it felt like we continued to keep our heads down, afraid to live. But look at what you both have
accomplished in such a short time. I’m happy I’m alive to see it.”

“I’m happy you are too,” Jimin softly replies when their eyes meet, those emotions surging within
him until he’s on the brink of crying again, unable to understand why he’s so sensitive and
emotional.

His father gives him a pleased smile, squeezing his arm in affection before gaining his feet,
moving down the steps of the platform to approach Namjoon and Seokjin, the three of them
wearing matching smiles as they greet each other. Jimin's eyes slide to the left to see Yoongi,
Taehyung, Hana and Seongjin further down the table be sits at, a wave of chaos and noise as they
attempt to quiet a fussy pup and keep Hana from upending the food on her plate, and Jimin can't
help but laugh under his breath.

The next thing he knows, he’s blinking his eyes open, Jeongguk taking up his entire field of vision
in a strange moment of deja vu as he leans over him, a look of concern gracing his features.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go upstairs.”

“I’m okay,” he tries to reassure, sounding out of it even to his own ears. “We can stay—”

“You’re falling asleep, love. It’s time to go,” he gently insists, helping him to his feet, and Jimin
nearly groans once he stands.
“Think I ate too much,” he quietly complains, stomach suddenly upset as Jeongguk holds onto his
waist and guides him towards the staircase, the two of them nodding and offering up ‘goodnights’
to those that bid them farewell on their way.

"My owls," he suddenly remembers, Jeongguk quieting him with gentle reassurances.

"Minhei left before us to bring it up."

Jimin relaxes immediately, saying goodnight to their adopted son when they pass each other in the
hall, thanking him again for the gift.

Jeongguk sits him down on the edge of the bed once they reach their room, seeing him settled
before depositing Eunoia and Serein in the wooden house they share now, turning to stoke the fire
before coming back to help Jimin undress.

“Are you alright sweetheart?”

“Tummy hurts,” he pouts, mostly to gain sympathy, the alpha laying him down once he’s divested
of his clothes, disrobing as well before crawling in after him.

“Here?” he asks, palm conforming to his abdomen, and Jimin nods weakly, unable to contain the
grin that turns his lips up at the corners when Jeongguk begins rubbing his belly. “You’ve been
tired a lot lately. Nightmares again?”

He shakes his head in denial and allows his eyes to slip closed.
“It's cold," he defends as he draws out the word, "you know how tired I get during the winter
months."

"Oh now it's cold. Now it's winter, because earlier you were hot."

Jimin can't help but giggle again at the indignation he hears in his mate's tone, humming when
Jeongguk places an open-mouthed kiss just below his navel to soften his words, rubbing his cheek
against the skin there when he offers, “We’ll sleep in tomorrow, yeah?”

“Is that an official order from the high alpha?” Jimin teases, feeling the way Jeongguk’s smirk
curls against his belly.

“More like a suggestion from your mate, who also wouldn’t mind getting some extra rest.”

“Oh well, for your sake then, I’m in full agreement.”

“You cheeky thing,” he growls, climbing up the rest of his body to place another kiss to Jimin’s
lips this time, easing him onto his side so that he can move in behind him, arms wrapping around
his waist, hands massaging over his stomach.

“Love you,” the alpha murmurs near his ear, and Jimin’s body shivers pleasantly, sleep pulling
him down when he gives his response.

“Love you too.”

________________
Despite what he said the previous night about sleeping in, Jeongguk is gone by the time Jimin bolts
out of bed the next morning, only just making it to the basin in time before he loses the contents of
his stomach, one hand gripped around his loose hair to keep it out of the way while the other aids
in holding him upright, sweat dotting his brow. He heaves until he has nothing left to give, and
then miraculously starts to feel better again.

Jimin cleans up the mess he made, going to the windows to air the room out despite the chill before
scrubbing his mouth with tooth powder twice.

He must’ve ate something that didn’t agree with him, and forgets about it.

Until the next morning, when he’s sick again.

And then the next, and the next.

Always in the mornings, no longer affecting him after he expels the contents of his stomach.

And then he hears it.

A quiet thump that resounds between the beats of his own heart, his lips parting, mouth as wide as
his eyes when his gaze falls to his abdomen, hands coming up to automatically cradle over the
skin.

It shouldn't be possible. He shouldn't…it's not—after all these years of trying, only to accept that it
would never happen to him, it feels almost like a cruel joke at first, and then Jimin breaks down
into tears of joy, wracking his mind in search of ways to deliver the news to his alpha, imagining
how he'll react. What he'll say.
It doesn't go quite the way he planned.

The day that Jeongguk witnesses him become sick is the day that all hell breaks loose.

“Get Hoseok up here. Fast,” he demands, driving the staff into a frenzy as he hovers over Jimin’s
form, already done and cleaning out his mouth again. “I want to know who cooked the food
today,” he commands to anyone who’ll listen, very nearly hyperventilating.

“I’m fine, love,” Jimin tries to reassure, but Jeongguk will hear none of it.

“You’re not fine. Your scent is different and you’re sick. It’s exactly like…what if it’s—”

“I promise you, it’s not poison.”

But again, he’s too frantic to listen.

Hoseok rushes in with his satchel bag full to bursting with the implements of his trade, eyes
magnified from his spectacles, blinking as he approaches.

“Are you alright? What’s happened?”

“I’m fine,” Jimin huffs in amused frustration, motioning the healer forward when Jeongguk moves
to block the exit, as if refusing to let any of them leave until he grants the omega a clean bill of
health.
The beta appears unsure, but still he begins to dig through his bag while asking, “What are your
symptoms?”

Jimin sighs but lists them off.

“Fatigue, fluctuating emotions, upset stomach, morning sickness, and I missed my heat.”

The healer stills, his gaze slowly finding his, and Jimin purses his lips and pointedly nods, the
panic leaving him as a wide grin takes over the beta's features.

“Oh Jimin.”

Again he nods, doing his best not to become weepy.

“What?" Jeongguk demands, clearly anxious. “What is it?”

But the two remain quiet, sharing a silent conversation before Hoseok takes a deep shuddering
breath.

“Right. I’ll leave you to tell him.”

“What do you mean? Is he going to be okay?”

“I’m fine, Jeongguk,” Jimin calls again when the alpha tries to chase after the healer as he goes,
beckoning with outstretched hands, “Come here, please.”
Jeongguk is before him in an instant, those doe-eyes even wider than they are normally, the stars in
them twinkling extra bright as his fear and anxiety gets the better of him.

“How can you be sure, though? These were the same symptoms you had when you were—”

“It’s not poison, love. This is a…common condition.”

“It is?”

“Yes. The kind that happens to omegas when they’re expecting.”

Those wide eyes narrow, nose scrunching in confusion as he tests the word out.

“...Expecting.”

And then it hits him.

That shock-filled gaze falls to his belly, reaching out, hand held aloft as if mystified before it
conforms over the still flat skin, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"No, that's…I thought we—we can't—"

"I thought so too, but listen," Jimin encourages, guiding Jeongguk down until his ear is pressed
near his navel, knowing the exact second he hears that strong little heartbeat, body jolting once he
does as he presses closer with a gasp that turns into a wet laugh, straightening back up with wonder
in his expression but also unsurity, like he's afraid to hope.

“You mean you—we’re going to be…”

Jimin nods, his emotions getting the better of him as tears fall down his cheeks, and Jeongguk is no
better, those star-filled eyes swimming before they pull each other in, a quivering mess while they
kiss and cry and laugh.

They fall into bed together, both of their hands crowding over his abdomen, and Jimin tries to
channel all of his love into the touch, praying that their unborn pup feels it and is comfortable and
healthy.

“I hope they’re as kindhearted as you are,” Jeongguk whispers, a barely there sound in the quiet of
the room, and Jimin’s tears flow anew.

“Don’t start, my nose is runny.”

But the alpha doesn’t listen, and in fact, does the exact opposite.

“I hope they have your strength, and your bravery. Your forgiveness and your grace.”

“Well I hope they have your tenacity, cleverness, and your unlimited capacity to love,” he tries to
fire back, but he’s not sure he quite manages it through the copious amounts of tears and stuttered
breaths.

Jeongguk gently brushes the hair away from his face, the affection in his gaze so intense that Jimin
swears he can feel it.

“You’re going to be amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better mate to do this with.”

“Nor could I,” Jimin whispers, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall. “And you’ll be the best
father our pup could ask for.”

Jeongguk releases another wet laugh before pulling him closer, and Jimin drifts in the warmth and
love that he’s wrapped up in, grateful to every power and force in the universe that brought them to
this.

It feels like he’s right where he’s meant to be. That every event in the past, be it good or bad, was
painstakingly orchestrated in order to get them here, at this exact moment, the present shining light
onto the future.

And the future is bright.

 Beautiful artwork created by the lovely and talented Winter

Chapter End Notes

Honestly, I think a part of me never thought I could finish this story. I didn't start The
Rogue with the intention of having it be a certain word count, nor did I ever anticipate
 it being this long, as it is by far the most I've ever written. It's taken me two years to
complete it, and a lot of you have been with me since the beginning, patiently waiting.
If it wasn't for your constant support and enthusiasm, I very much doubt I would have
been able to keep going, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for loving
this fic and these characters. For encouraging me and gifting me with the sweetest
comments and messages. For loving The Rogue as much as I have. I couldn't have
done it without you.

Until the next one

Madalynn xx

End Notes

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