Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Whimpers and cries echoed throughout the dimly lit basement. The scent of musk and mildew clung to the air, thick and suffocating, as Jisung grunted in discomfort while the men shoved him into his open cage. His body hit the concrete with a hard thud, forcing a low whimper to escape his chapped lips, igniting fits of laughter from the men who reveled in his humiliation. They reveled in breaking spirits, and in that moment, Jisung felt like nothing more than an object—a plaything to be tossed around for their amusement.

“Now you will whimper for us? After being tossed around all those alphas upstairs?” the two men taunted, their jeers echoing in the cold basement as they didn’t hesitate to slam the door of his cage shut. The metallic clang reverberated in his chest, rattling his bones.

Once their footsteps faded into the distance, Jisung sat up slowly, the weight of the collar around his neck feeling unbearably heavy. It was a constant reminder of his captivity—a cruel accessory that symbolized his entrapment. He hung his head low, watching the droplets of water drip from the exposed pipes above, collecting into a small puddle on the cold floor in front of him.

Glancing at his makeshift bed in the corner, he felt the familiar wave of frustration. It was nothing more than a pile of tattered clothes, soaked through from the leaking ceiling. Every attempt to find comfort was met with failure, a cruel joke the universe played on him. Tonight, like so many others, there would be no solace in sleep—only restless thoughts drumming in his mind and the chill of the concrete against his skin.

Jisung tried to drown out the whining and crying of the other omegas that filled the basement with despair. It was a cacophony of suffering that never truly ebbed, a constant reminder of his own fate. Instead, he focused intently on the sound of the dripping water, letting it ground him in the chaos surrounding him. He zeroed in on the way a few droplets would blend together before joining the puddle, a curious work of art in motion that only he seemed to appreciate.

He often picked a favorite droplet before it disappeared into the ever-expanding pool. It was a small, insignificant game, but it had grown to mean everything to him. In a world stripped of control, it became his sanctuary. Guessing which droplet would land the fastest, he found an odd joy in the simplicity of the moment.

Initially, he had struggled with it—the chaotic nature of the drops eluding him. But after five months of indulging in this trivial distraction, he had become surprisingly skilled. It was one small flicker of victory amidst an ocean of sorrow, a training ground for his mind, something to keep his thoughts from spiraling into the dark abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

Routine had become the only constant in his life. Each morning, the omegas were rounded up and mercilessly drenched in cold water by the alphas wielding hoses without care. Skin shrank away from the icy blasts, and like clockwork, they were handed crude bars of soap, forced to scrub away their dignity along with sins they had not committed. Afterward, they were dressed—or rather, redressed in nothing but remnants of clothing clearly not intended for them—and herded back into their cages like cattle.

Jisung often ended up chosen like a pawn in a game he didn’t wish to play. More often than not, however, he would occupy his time lost in the dance of falling droplets during the days he remained unpicked. It was a bittersweet routine, one that rendered him a ghost among the living, trapped in the melancholy of the basement.

Too absorbed in his game of droplets, he failed to notice the sound of a cage opening nearby until it was too late. The loud growling pierced through his bubble of concentration, pulling him abruptly back to reality. Jisung glanced sideways, his heart racing as he took in the sight of the other omega in the cage beside him.

The male was slightly smaller than him but held a fierce energy that made him seem much larger. His wild, messy blonde hair framed his face, contrasting sharply with the blue of his torn shirt. The fabric clung to him in a way that hinted at both vulnerability and strength, exposing patches of unblemished skin decorated with mating marks.

“Touch me again, I dare you!” the omega growled, his voice a low rumble filled with defiance as he glared at the alpha guards standing before him, their laughter booming in the small space. The sight was startling—this omega, seemingly fragile in appearance, stood proud and unyielding, daring them to test his resolve.

Jisung’s stomach dropped when he observed the confrontation escalate. The alpha—the larger of the two—taunted and crouched low, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. “Better be careful, wouldn’t want to harm the pup,” the alpha sneered as he shoved the smaller omega away. There was something deeply unsettling in their amusement, something that struck a chord deep within Jisung.

The omega stumbled backward, but instead of succumbing to fear, he held his ground, clutching his stomach protectively while unleashing a glare that could cut through stone before he spit at the alpha.

“I like you. It’ll be fun to play with you,” the alpha continued with a cruel chuckle, standing tall as he wiped the spit that had landed on his cheek, his disgust only marginally masked by amusement.

“You’ll regret this,” the smaller omega spat, fury radiating from him as if he were a coiled spring ready to snap. The cries of the others faded momentarily during this standoff, their attention captivated by the volatility of the moment. But whatever strength the omega radiated only made Jisung’s heart ache more profoundly for him.

When the alpha finally exited the cage, their laughter ringing ominously in the air, the omega raced to the bars, gripping them with desperate hands as he growled after them. The sound was raw—filled with passion that felt foreign to Jisung after so much time.

When the alphas were out of sight, the chorus of whimpers and cries filled the air once more, but Jisung was surprised to find that this new omega did not join them. Instead, he stood there, still fuming, aiming his furious glare toward the direction the alphas had disappeared.

The sight of this fierce omega sparked something deep within him—a mixture of admiration and jealousy that left him unsettled. Even with the shirt that barely covered his skin, Jisung could see the marks of a past that remained chained to him. The collar he wore mirrored his own, a symbol of restriction and lost freedom. Yet the smaller omega seemed to embody a spirit that had not yet been crushed.

Jisung felt an unexpected swell of empathy for him. Could he truly fight against the men who held them captive, or was he merely blinding himself with bravado? Unlike this new omega, Jisung had no one waiting for him—no one trying to find him, no mates who surely worried about the fate he was living. The thought sent another wave of despair crashing into him.

Perhaps the fault lay in himself for not forging friendships among the other omegas. It was not that he had chosen to be alone; it was simply that every bond he attempted to forge had felt insubstantial in this broken world. He was an orphan, raised by an elderly couple who passed away far too soon, casting him into a life without anchors. Alone, he had learned to navigate darkness, but the ache of loneliness still gnawed at him.

He wondered whether this omega would fall into the same hopelessness that had consumed him. Sometimes, it felt like hope was a double-edged sword—sharp enough to draw blood, yet dull enough to leave one stranded. Believing in escape was sometimes more torturous than the chains that bound him. Jisung had all but given up on hope, accepting that some fates were simply inescapable.

Jisung turned his gaze back to the puddle collecting at his feet, watching as drops continued to link together and fall, each unique yet inconsequential. He took a steadying breath, the thought of companionship resonating deep within him.

Life may have dealt him a losing hand, but he had not fully succumbed to despair. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to walk this path alone—perhaps the fierce omega next to him could reignite a sliver of hope he thought he had lost. As long as this stranger held onto their spirit, Jisung found he could not relinquish his own entirely.

Chapter Text

The creaking of the stairs, accompanied by low growls and mocking laughter, ripped Jisung from his restless nap. The cold, unrelenting stone floor beneath him sent a dull ache through his body as he shifted, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. As soon as the other omegas heard the familiar sounds of footsteps descending, the symphony of whimpers and desperate pleas echoed through the corridor. It was a sound Jisung had grown numb to over the endless months of captivity.

He blinked his tired eyes open, catching sight of two alphas dragging a struggling omega down the corridor. His breath hitched. The omega’s eyes blazed with fury as he growled, baring his teeth at the alphas, who simply laughed at his futile defiance. The cage next to Jisung had been empty for only a short time.

When did they grab him? Jisung couldn’t remember falling asleep or for how long he’d been out. Time meant nothing here, where the days blended together into one long stretch of misery.

“I hope your mates don’t mind sharing. Though I doubt it, with how many you’ve got. Greedy, aren’t you, whore?” one of the alphas jeered, grinning as they yanked the omega toward the empty cage beside Jisung’s.

Jisung’s stomach churned as he observed the omega being dragged like a rag doll. His skin was ghostly pale, his eyes sunken, the once healthy glow of his hair dulled by the grime and sweat. Despite the omega’s furious glare and sharp teeth bared in warning, his body looked ready to give out at any moment. Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin.

The alpha’s taunting laughter filled the air as they opened the cage door and threw the omega inside, slamming the door shut with a loud clang. The metallic sound echoed through the room, sending shivers down Jisung’s spine.

“Good night,” one alpha sneered, spinning the key around his finger with a sick grin. “Make sure to get plenty of rest. You’ll need it.”

The alphas’ laughter mixed with the renewed cries from the other omegas, but Jisung paid no attention to the pitiful pleas. His focus was solely on the omega now huddled in the corner of his cage. The omega sat with his back pressed against the bars, head bowed low, his body trembling slightly as he picked at his bloodstained fingernails.

Jisung stared, wondering whose blood it was this time. The omega’s? Or had he managed to injure one of the alphas before they subdued him?

Why does he still fight? Jisung wondered. It had been months—nearly a year—and he had long since lost the energy to resist. This omega was different. His fury hadn’t dimmed despite the abuse, despite being as physically drained as the rest of them. Jisung almost admired him for it, even as part of him feared for the omega’s safety. Anger only made things worse in this place.

He was tempted to speak—to ask him all the questions that had piled up in his mind over the three months they had been imprisoned near one another. But fear held him back. The omega had never been approachable, and Jisung worried that if he spoke up, the omega would lash out, either with biting words or worse, with hands that might reach through the bars to strangle him.

Still, Jisung’s gaze fell to the omega’s stomach. It was more obvious now, the swell beneath his dirty clothes. Pregnant . He had suspected it for months, but now there was no denying it.

The thought made Jisung’s chest tighten with dread. What would happen when the baby came? Would the alphas… take it? Hurt it? The thought was too terrible to entertain, and yet, it loomed over him like a shadow. He tore his gaze away from the omega’s belly, trying to push the grim thoughts from his mind.

“How many days has it been?” the omega's voice was low and gravelly, raw from either screaming or disuse. It held no emotion, just an emptiness that mirrored Jisung’s own.

Jisung sighed, crawling back to his damp makeshift bed. “Ninety-eight days for you,” he answered quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Two hundred and forty-five for me.”

It was the first time they had spoken to one another, and Jisung felt a strange sense of relief that he had kept count. He didn’t want to disappoint the omega with the wrong answer.

The omega let out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening on the frayed edges of his shirt. “I missed their birthdays,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jisung. His voice cracked, and Jisung winced at the pain woven into those simple words.

Jisung glanced at the omega's frail form, and something inside him broke even further. The omega had always been thin, but now he was practically skeletal. His cheeks were hollow, his skin stretched tight over his bones. Even though his belly showed the evidence of his pregnancy, the rest of his body was wasting away. His clothes hung loosely on him, and he shivered constantly, whether from the cold or the trauma, Jisung didn’t know.

“What are your mates’ names?” Jisung asked softly, hoping to shift the omegas focus. Maybe talking about them would help, even just a little. “Maybe if you talk about them, it’ll take your mind off things.”

The omega hesitated, his eyes closing as he rested his head against the bars. For a moment, Jisung thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, in a cracked voice, the omega began to speak.

“I met Channie first. He was my first love,” the omega said, his voice soft, yet carrying a weight of nostalgia. “We grew up together—our parents were best friends. We did everything together. He was always my rock. After high school, we moved in together. It wasn’t long before we realized it was more than just friendship between us.”

Jisung could hear the faint tremor in the omega's voice as he spoke, but he didn’t interrupt, letting him continue.

“After that, we met Changbin and Seungmin in a café. They were already together, but we… clicked, you know? Like it was meant to be. Changbin…” the omega let out a weak laugh, though it held no joy. “He’s got the most incredible muscles. You’d think he’s just some brute, but he’s got the kindest heart. Seungmin… he’s the sweet one, though he likes to pretend he’s all tough. He keeps us all grounded.”

Jisung found himself drawn in by the omegas story, picturing the faces of the mates he described, even though he had never met them.

“Seungmin was the one who brought Jeongin into our relationship,” the omega murmured, his voice tinged with a bittersweet softness. “Seungmin’s so in love with him, even though he denies it every time someone brings it up. But it’s undeniable. You can’t help falling for Jeongin… he’s irresistible.” the omega’s voice wavered, and a soft whine escaped him, as if just the memory of the young alpha brought him pain.

“Then there’s Minho,” the omega continued, his voice growing quieter, more fragile. “Channie met him during a business trip. He came back raving about how amazing Minho was, how they hit it off instantly. I was skeptical at first, but… he’s a lifeline, you know? Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what.”

The omega's voice cracked, and he paused for a moment, as though collecting himself before he could go on. “And finally, Hyunjin. I met him at an art museum, of all places. I was just there, admiring some paintings when he tripped right in front of me.” the omega chuckled, though the sound was strained. “I helped him up, and it was like everything clicked into place. Turns out we’re soulmates… like it was destiny or something.”

The omega stopped, his breath hitching as tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his worn-out shirt. “They didn’t even know I was pregnant when I got taken. I was on a business trip. I don’t even live anywhere near here…”

Jisung’s chest tightened at the omega’s words, his heart aching for the omega who had been separated from his mates, from the people who loved him, without even knowing about the child growing inside him.

“They’ll come for you,” Jisung found himself whispering, though he didn’t know if he truly believed it. He wanted to believe it—for the omega's sake, for the baby’s sake. But the reality of their situation hung heavily over both of them, a constant reminder that hope was a luxury they could no longer afford.

“What’s your name?” the omega asked, his voice hoarse from the emotional strain.

“Jisung,” he answered after a brief pause. “What’s yours?”

“Felix,” the omega whispered, as if the name itself was painful to say, like it held too many memories he could no longer bear.

The air between them was thick with the weight of Felix’s story, the silence almost unbearable after hearing about his mates, his life before this nightmare. Jisung couldn’t stop thinking about the names, the faces he could only imagine—men who had once been Felix’s entire world, now nothing more than distant memories. He wondered what it was like, to have that kind of love, that kind of bond. Jisung had never experienced it, not even close.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the heavy clang of the door down the hall cut through the silence, making his heart lurch in his chest. The sound of footsteps echoed again, this time slower, more deliberate. Jisung tensed, and he could feel Felix stiffen next to him.

They’re coming.

Jisung’s instincts screamed at him to shrink back, to make himself as small and invisible as possible. But it didn’t matter what he did. If they wanted him, they would take him. The fear that had been dulled by the passing days and nights in this place returned with full force, crawling up his spine.

Felix, however, didn’t move. His eyes were fixed on the door, his jaw clenched tight. There was no fear in his gaze, only burning anger—a spark that refused to die, no matter how broken his body was.

The heavy door creaked open, and Jisung’s breath hitched as two familiar alphas stepped inside the cell block, their leering faces illuminated by the dim light. The taller one—the one Jisung recognized as the one who took a sick pleasure in tormenting the omegas—grinned as his eyes landed on Felix.

“Well, look what we have here,” the alpha drawled, stepping closer to the bars. “Our little fighter is still awake.”

Felix didn’t respond. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. Jisung could see the tension in his body, the barely contained rage simmering beneath the surface. He knew Felix was fighting to stay calm, to hold onto the last shreds of his sanity.

The other alpha, a stockier man with a sneer permanently etched on his face, moved closer to Felix’s cage, eyeing him like a predator eyeing its prey. “Still got that fire in you, huh?” he taunted. “It’s cute, really. You think your little pack’s gonna come swooping in to save you?”

Felix’s lips curled into a snarl, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t give them the satisfaction.

“Guess we’ll have to make sure you’re still in good shape for when they do, huh?” the taller alpha sneered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe, the liquid inside glowing faintly in the dim light. Jisung’s stomach twisted in dread. He’d seen that syringe before. He knew what it did.

The stockier alpha unlocked Felix’s cage and stepped inside, grabbing Felix by the arm with a vicious grip. Felix struggled, thrashing against the alpha’s hold, but he was weak—too weak to put up much of a fight.

“Let go of me!” Felix spat, his voice hoarse but filled with fury.

“Now, now, be a good omega,” the alpha mocked, tightening his grip on Felix’s arm. “This’ll make everything so much easier.”

Jisung felt panic rising in his chest as he watched the taller alpha approach Felix with the syringe. He knew he couldn’t do anything—there was no way to stop them—but every part of him wanted to scream, to fight back, to protect Felix in the way he couldn’t protect himself.

“Please,” Jisung whispered, his voice trembling as he gripped the bars of his own cage. “Don’t do this.”

The taller alpha paused for a moment, glancing over at Jisung with a smirk. “What’s this? The quiet one finally has something to say?”

Jisung’s heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Please… he’s pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the alphas both froze. Then, slowly, the taller one turned back to Felix, his grin widening.

Felix’s eyes blazed with fury, but there was no fear—only pure, undiluted hatred. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

The taller alpha chuckled, a low, cruel sound that sent chills down Jisung’s spine. “Oh, we won’t harm your precious little pup,” he said, his tone mocking. “We wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for later. But you… well, you’re another story.”

Before Felix could react, the alpha plunged the syringe into his arm.

Felix’s scream tore through the room, raw and agonizing. Jisung pressed his hand over his mouth, biting back his own sob as he watched Felix’s body go limp, the drug coursing through his veins.

The alphas laughed as Felix collapsed to the floor, his body convulsing as the drug took hold. His breaths were shallow, his eyes glazed over as he stared up at the ceiling, unseeing.

Jisung rushed to the bars of his cage, his heart racing. “Felix!” he whispered urgently, his voice trembling. “Felix, can you hear me?”

Felix’s body lay still on the cold floor, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. There was no response.

Chapter Text

A loud groan slipped past Felix’s lips as he stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes to fight the sleep still clinging to him. He hated being the last one awake, especially since it meant waking up cold and alone, something that never sat well with him. The absence of warmth from his mates was always a harsh reminder of how much he needed them around. He despised feeling that empty void even for a moment.

His legs felt heavy as he made his way down the hallway, the faint sound of laughter and conversation growing clearer with each step. His vision was blurry, having rushed out of bed in search of his alphas and omega, but he didn’t care. The need to find them was stronger than anything else.

As Felix stepped into the living room, the sight of Chan leaning against the wall was the first thing he noticed. The alpha had a gentle smile on his face, his eyes glued to Jeongin, who was intensely focused on the video game Felix didn’t realize had been turned on. Chan’s soft chuckle echoed through the room as the television announced Jeongin’s character’s demise. Jeongin whined dramatically, tossing the remote onto the couch in frustration, and Felix couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips.

“Morning, baby,” Chan greeted, pushing off the wall and making his way toward Felix. His hand reached up to ruffle Felix’s messy bed hair before he leaned down to press a quick kiss against Felix’s lips.

Felix pouted as he looked up at the alpha. “I woke up alone… again!” he whined, his voice laced with playful disappointment as he wrapped his arms around Chan’s waist. He nuzzled into Chan’s chest, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of Chan’s shirt, a soft purr vibrating through his body as he scented the alpha.

“I was going to wake you when Minho got everyone else up, but he insisted you sleep in,” Chan hummed, chuckling softly. “And you know Minho—he’s a little too scary to argue with that early in the morning.”

Felix let out a soft laugh, the sound light and sleepy, but before he could reply, the sharp scent of something burning reached his nose. His eyes widened in alarm as he pulled away from Chan. “Is someone cooking? It smells like something’s burning.” His brows furrowed in confusion—Minho should already be at work, and none of the others were usually in the kitchen this early.

Chan sighed, shaking his head with a half-amused smile. “Changbin and Seungmin decided to try your brownie recipe since they were craving something sweet, and Minho was set on letting you sleep before he left for work.”

The two of them walked toward the kitchen, their footsteps light but quick, and the sight that greeted them was just as chaotic as Felix expected. Changbin was by the window, desperately trying to fan out the smoke while Seungmin poked at a pan of burnt brownies with a frown. The brownies were a hard, charred mess, and Felix had to stifle a laugh at the situation.

“How long did we leave these in?” Seungmin asked, poking the pan like it might attack him back.

“Forty minutes. That’s what the recipe says, right?” Changbin answered, finally turning away from the window, oblivious to the amused stares Felix and Chan were giving him.

Felix shook his head, stepping further into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Changbin’s waist from behind. “It’s twenty minutes, baby,” he corrected softly, pressing a gentle kiss between Changbin’s shoulder blades.

Seungmin turned to Felix, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “Lixie, if I cuddle you all day long, will you make more brownies?” His eyes were wide with hope, practically pleading.

Felix peeked over Changbin’s shoulder, the idea of bargaining with the omega crossing his mind. He could easily make more, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see just how far Seungmin would go. He smirked. “Hmm, seems like you used up the last of the ingredients, though. You’ll need to run to the store if you want any. Oh, and I have a few things I need, too.”

Seungmin visibly deflated at the mention of grocery shopping, a task he loathed, but determination quickly replaced his reluctance. Before he could agree, though, the door swung open, and Hyunjin walked in, arms full of grocery bags, a triumphant grin on his face.

“I figured Seungmin and Changbin would mess it up, so I got more ingredients,” Hyunjin announced proudly, his grin widening. “And I picked up the stuff from your list, angel.”

Felix’s eyes widened in surprise, his heart swelling with affection. “You’re amazing, Jinnie,” he purred, releasing Changbin to help Hyunjin put away the groceries. Hyunjin practically preened under Felix’s praise, clearly expecting more.

Hyunjin held up the box with a smirk. “Oh, and I bought more condoms.”

Felix woke with a sharp gasp, his heart pounding in his chest as his body lurched in a fit of tremors. His bleary eyes shot open to see two towering alphas hovering above him, one of them clutching a dripping bucket. The sudden realization that they had just doused him in water sent a chill rushing through him, amplifying the shaking that had already seized his body.

As the cold dripped down his skin, he struggled to move, but his muscles felt heavy and unresponsive. Panic flickered in his gaze as he instinctively bared his teeth at the men above him, a soft whimper escaping his lips when one of them seized his arm, yanking him up harshly from the ground.

“Don’t touch him!” a weak voice cried out from behind the cold bars of the nearby cage. Felix didn’t need to look closely to recognize it was Jisung.

But the alphas were deaf to the omega’s pleas. The alpha who held Felix smirked, his grip unyielding as he pulled Felix up to his feet. Felix groaned in protest as pain shot through his aching body, yet he found he couldn’t muster the strength to speak—his mouth refused to cooperate, just as his limbs did.

“Grab the other omega too,” the alpha barked to his companion. “There are a lot of paying customers today.” The words sent a chill down Felix’s spine, as he was dragged out of the cage, the corridor stretching dauntingly before him.

Felix let out a soft whine as he heard Jisung's distressed cries echoing behind him, punctuated by frightened hisses. A pang of guilt shot through him; he wished Jisung hadn’t tried to intervene. Perhaps if he had stayed quiet, they wouldn’t have both been chosen.

As they rounded a couple more corners, they arrived at a heavy metal door. A surge of dread filled Felix's stomach as the alpha holding him swung it open and stepped inside. The moment they crossed the threshold, Felix was jolted by a cacophony of raucous laughter and the overpowering scent of alcohol mixed with sweat, and his stomach turned uneasily.

Each step up the stairs felt like a lifetime, the oppressive atmosphere pressing in on him. The scents enveloped him—stale beer, the musk of intoxicated alphas, and something far more vile that made him feel sick. His mind screamed at him to escape, to fight against the situation that had ensnared him, but his body betrayed him—too weak, too tired, and too worn down by the drugs they had forced upon him.

As they reached the top of the stairs, the door swung open to reveal utter chaos. Alphas lounged about, their laughter booming and reckless as they reveled in their debauchery, seemingly unaware—or perhaps uncaring—of the destruction they left in their wake. One alpha, lounging on a tattered couch, turned his gaze toward Felix, a predatory grin spreading across his face as he whistled low beneath his breath. The look in his eyes made Felix feel like prey cornered by a hungry predator.

Without a shred of care, the alpha who held him tossed Felix onto the cold, unforgiving floor. He barely managed to brace himself, the impact sending shockwaves of pain flaring through his abdomen. Fear gripped him as his hand instinctively went to his stomach, shielding the life that grew within him—a pup he had fought so hard to protect.

“Careful with him,” another alpha sneered from the shadows of the room, his voice dripping with mockery. “We don’t want to damage the merchandise, do we?” The laughter that followed felt like shards of glass digging into Felix’s already bruised soul.

He let out a soft whimper, surrendering to the encroaching darkness, and tried to retreat into memories of laughter, warmth, and love—anything to shield him from the cruelty of the present.

As he lay on the floor, the bittersweet memories of his mates flooded his mind, weaving in and out like cruel specters haunting his consciousness. Their laughter, warm and rich with joy, had once filled his world, casting light into even the darkest corners of his heart. He had believed in their love with every fiber of his being, nestled in the comfort of their bond, an unbreakable chain forged through shared experiences and whispered promises. That love still existed; that part hadn’t changed. But now, a bitter truth gnawed at him with unrelenting ferocity: they weren’t coming for him. They didn’t even know where he was, and the thought of them frantically searching, perhaps even despairing, twisted sharply in his gut.

The hope he had clung to so desperately in the beginning started to slip through his fingers, growing fatigued and threadbare, replaced by something darker, suffocating. It was a heavy fog of despair that settled deep in his chest. Felix didn’t want to lose faith not when his mates had fought through so much together, but it was hard to maintain that flickering flame of belief when he found himself here—trapped and powerless, his body a cruel reminder of his vulnerability.

A sharp kick to his side jolted him back to the present, the pain sparking through him like wildfire. He let out a soft whimper, instinctively curling away from the impact. The alpha who had delivered the kick let out a low growl, irritation threading through his tone as he leaned closer. “Stay awake, omega. We’ve got plans for you.” Each word dripped with a sickening amusement that sent a chill racing down Felix’s spine.

With every passing moment, he felt more and more exhausted—his body worn down from months of relentless abuse, a hollow shell where vibrant energy used to reside. The truth was undeniable: they could do whatever they wanted to him, and all he could do was endure, trapped in this nightmare. Closing his eyes, he tried to retreat into the hazy memories that once brought him solace, longing for the warmth and safety he used to know.

But even those memories felt distant now, like a flickering light barely held in place by frayed threads of hope.

“Get him on the table,” the alpha commanded sharply, his hands shoving Felix forward with an ease that spoke volumes of his callousness. Felix stumbled, barely catching himself against the edge of the table, the impact rattling through him as the familiar rough hands grabbed him once more, manipulating him as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll—devoid of agency or autonomy.

The cold, unforgiving surface pressed against his cheek, grounding him in the present even as he wished to drift away. His body went rigid, each muscle tensed in anticipation of what was to come. Shallow gasps escaped his lips, each breath a reminder of the isolation surrounding him. Even with Jisung nearby, confined as he was, there was nothing either of them could do to change their grim circumstances.

Felix could hear the clinking of bottles and the surfacing murmur of voices, a dull cacophony that blurred into a disturbing backdrop of chaos. Panic coursed through him as his instincts screamed for him to flee, but every muscle in his body felt like lead. The alphas moved around him with an unsettling nonchalance, their actions sharp and careless, treating him like an object rather than a person. The cold of the table seeped into his skin, an agonizing contrast to the feverish heat building in his veins—the remnants of the drugs still clouding his thoughts and dulling his reactions.

The atmosphere thickened as he lay there, a tension that hung heavy in the air. Felix could feel the weight of their eyes on him, measuring, appraising—craving the thrill of control that they exerted over their prey.

He fought the tears that threatened to fall, blinking them back in a desperate attempt to retain some semblance of control. Crying wouldn’t help; it never did. His mind reached for a memory—any memory—that could anchor him, pull him out of this nightmare that threatened to consume him.

Chan. His voice, deep and steady, whispering softly into his ear as he held him close on lazy mornings. The warmth of Chan’s chest, the safe, protective way he would curl around Felix when they slept, enveloping him like a shield from the world. He could almost hear Chan’s laughter, feel his breath against his skin, and it made the aching absence that much more unbearable.

But even that cherished memory was fraying, unraveling under the weight of what was happening to him. The sharp scrape of metal drew his attention back to the present, and he flinched involuntarily. One of the alphas was preparing something—Felix couldn’t see what, but the sound of it made his stomach twist in fear, a deep, painful knot twisting tighter.

“Stop,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath, choked off and trembling. The room was too loud, too suffocating for anyone to hear him. Or care.

The alpha nearest to him let out a low, cruel chuckle. “Look at him. Trying to beg already,” he mocked, dragging a rough hand through Felix’s hair before yanking his head back to force eye contact. The alpha’s breath was hot and rank, mixing with the stale air around them. “What do you think, omega? Think they’ll pay extra for a little show?”

Felix’s body shook, the tremors of fear threatening to consume him. But he kept his eyes squeezed shut, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of seeing the terror that burned in his chest.

“Leave him alone!” came Jisung’s voice, echoing faintly from the other side of the room, filled with desperation and anger. But his protests fell on deaf ears, lost in the cacophony of the alphas’ laughter.

The alpha laughed again, a low, mocking sound that crawled under Felix’s skin like a plague. Another alpha moved closer, a needle glinting dully in his hand. Felix’s heart pounded painfully in his chest as he wanted to growl, to dig his claws into the alpha and fight back. But instead, all he could do was watch as the alpha yanked his arm closer, jabbing the needle into his vein with a swift, brutal stab.

Felix gasped, his eyes shooting open as pain shot through his arm like fire, coursing through his veins and clouding his mind.

He glanced over at Jisung, his heart aching at the sight of the omega getting injected as well. Jisung whimpered softly, the sound breaking Felix’s heart even more.

Felix instinctively struggled against his restraints, but his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive as the alpha walked away, leaving him vulnerable. More alphas crowded around him, their intentions dripping with malice. One alpha rubbed Felix's stomach with an evil grin, his fingers digging into the skin, and Felix recoiled from the touch.

“Do you think you could fit another pup in here? I'm sure we can make it happen,” the alpha sneered, relishing in the power he held over Felix as he kept his hand possessively on his stomach. The texture of the alpha’s grip was horrid against Felix’s skin. Before Felix could respond, the alpha pulled out a pair of handcuffs, the cold metal a cruel contrast to his warm flesh.

“I've been told that you’re feisty, but with the drug we just gave you, you won’t be moving for a few hours,” he said, his face mere inches from Felix’s, too close for comfort, his breath a sickening mix of amusement and aggression.

“Maybe we can make you the official breeding bitch,” another alpha chimed in, leering as he pulled out a blindfold. “Just get rid of this pup in you, and put another one in ya.” The words dripped with disgust, and Felix wished he could wipe the smug expressions from their faces.

With that, the second alpha covered Felix’s eyes with the blindfold, plunging him into darkness. Panic clawed at his throat as he realized he couldn’t see anything—everything was black, oppressive, suffocating. He was utterly alone in his terror, drowning in an ocean of despair.

Felix’s heart raced as the world around him faded into a haunting silence, punctuated only by the laughter of the alphas, who reveled in their power. Each taunt sank deeper into his skin, an ever-present reminder of his vulnerability. At that moment, he felt more like a caged animal than ever before—a toy for their amusement.

“Don’t fight it, sweet omega,” one of the alphas whispered, his voice dripping with cruel pleasure. “We know what you need better than you do.” It was a chilling promise that sent a shiver down Felix’s spine.

Felix tried to whimper, but no sound escaped his lips as he heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. He could only assume the noise was from his own clothes, though he couldn't see anything.

Then, hands began to roam over his body. Felix fought back the urge to vomit as they trailed up his chest, down his stomach, and finally to his cock. He wanted to kick, wanted to fight back against the invasion, but all he could do was lie there, helpless, as he was fondled and poked at.

Before he could react, he felt a cock pressing against his entrance, and without warning, it thrust inside him. Felix's eyes widened at the searing pain of the intrusion, and all he could manage were grunts of discomfort. Tears streamed down his face as he struggled against the restraints that held him down.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” a voice whispered in his ear, tainting the air around him with a sickly sweetness as the thrusting continued. The pain was nearly unbearable, and all he could do was endure the relentless rhythm. Just when he thought the alpha might be finished, he felt teeth sinking into his shoulder, right over Chan’s mark.

No matter how potent the drug coursing through his veins was, it couldn’t numb the agony of his body’s resistance to the violation. Felix let out a scream, raw and primal, as he fought against the alpha's grip. The alpha growled, teeth still buried in his flesh, while Felix bit back, sinking his teeth into the alpha with all the strength he could muster.

He didn't know where he bit, but he aimed to inflict as much pain as he could. The thought that his mates would know he was in danger, that Chan would have to bear the agony of his mark being bitten, fueled his defiance.

“Separate them before one of them gets killed!” an alpha shouted just as Felix felt the pressure of teeth being removed from his shoulder. Someone lifted him off the table, and he thrashed in their grasp, his claws digging into the alpha’s skin. But the alpha merely ignored him, carrying him away with a determination that sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through Felix.

He fretted about where they were headed, desperately hoping it was back to his cage, a place of semi-safety. But his hopes shattered when his blindfold was ripped off and he was thrown onto a soft surface. Startled, Felix growled, his vision still clouded by confusion, but the alpha looming above him merely smiled, an unsettling expression that made Felix's stomach churn.

Just then, another alpha entered the room, a syringe poised in his hand. “Let’s try this again,” he said coolly as he jabbed the needle into Felix's arm. Pain shot through him as the drug coursed into his veins, and all he could do was scream, feeling his strength dissipate.

His body began to drift, vision blurring as darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

Chapter Text

The cold table beneath Jisung's body was the first thing he felt when he woke. It was uncomfortably cold against his skin. His entire body ached, muscles stiff from sleep, but that wasn’t what made his heart pound.

It was the silence.

Jisung tried to move, tried to sit up, but he was restrained to the table with chains, even his collar strapped to one of them.

The room was completely silent. There was no laughter, no chatter, and the smell of alcohol was entirely absent.

Jisung’s pulse quickened. Something wasn’t right. He tried to move again, but his body felt heavy and sluggish. As he blinked, his vision still hazy, he attempted to make sense of his surroundings. He wasn’t in the basement. The rough, dark walls were gone, replaced by painted ones. He could make out dim light filtering through a window in the corner of the room.

Desperation clawed at him. He struggled to shift, to pull against the restraints, but all he managed was a slight twitch of his fingers. The chain connecting his collar to the table clinked softly.

A sharp creak broke the silence.

His breath caught in his throat. The sound came from the door. He tensed, his body stiff despite its immobility. Footsteps—soft, deliberate—grew louder. Someone was coming.

The door swung open, and light from the hallway poured into the room. Jisung’s eyes widened as he instinctively searched for any clue about what would happen next. An alpha stepped inside, their silhouette dark against the brightness. Jisung couldn’t make out their face, but the familiar scent hit him like a punch to the gut.

It wasn’t the harsh stench of alcohol and sweat he’d grown used to. This was a different scent—cleaner, and more purposeful. But that didn’t make it any less threatening.

Jisung’s body was frozen, not just from the drug but from fear. He felt vulnerable, exposed on the cold table, utterly unable to defend himself. The alpha’s eyes locked onto him, and a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. They moved closer, each step calculated, as if they relished watching his struggle.

“You’re awake,” the alpha said, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Good. I was starting to wonder how long that stuff would keep you out.”

Jisung glared up at him, but his body betrayed him. His limbs were still sluggish, barely responsive under the weight of the drugs and heavy chains. The alpha reached out and brushed a finger over Jisung’s collar, tightening the chain just enough to elicit a flinch.

Jisung’s mind screamed for him to fight back, to do something—anything—but his body wouldn’t obey. All he could do was lie there, trembling under the alpha’s gaze, his teeth clenched in frustration. He wouldn’t beg. He refused to give them that satisfaction.

The alpha looked down at him, a twisted smile pulling at his lips. “Looks like it’s going to be a quieter day for you, little omega,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. Jisung glared up at him, but he lacked the strength to do more.

“You see,” the alpha continued, leaning in closer, “someone's been running their mouth. Seems like a little rat snitched to the police.” He chuckled darkly. “So now we have to be more careful. Just two of us alphas will be playing with you now. Wouldn’t want to attract too much attention, right?”

Jisung’s blood ran cold at the alpha’s words. The thought of the police knowing—of someone trying to help—sparked a tiny glimmer of hope. But it was quickly crushed under the weight of reality. The alphas were still here, still in control, and still ready to make his life hell.

“Don’t get any ideas, though,” the alpha sneered, tapping the chains around Jisung’s wrists. “You’re still ours, and we can still have our fun.”

Jisung wanted to scream, to thrash against the restraints, but his body remained limp, the drugs still coursing through his veins. He could only stare up at the alpha, helpless, as the man straightened and left the room without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, plunging Jisung back into oppressive silence.

That silence didn’t last long, though; within minutes, two alphas walked in, both wearing sick grins. Jisung felt the effects of the drug slowly fading, his body still heavy, but he couldn’t help muttering a soft ‘no’ as the alphas approached him.

“I bet you’re heartbroken that you won't have a line of alphas wanting to fuck you, am I right, whore?” one alpha spat, grabbing Jisung's chin and forcing him to meet his gaze.

Jisung remained silent, refusing to respond to their taunts. Instead, he focused on the cold metal of the chains that held him down, the way they clinked softly with every slight movement he made. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing fear or anger; he wouldn’t let them witness him break.

“Aw, look at you,” the bulkier alpha mocked, leaning in closer, invading Jisung’s personal space. “You’re really going to make us work for it, huh?”

Jisung’s jaw clenched as he met the alpha’s gaze. He wouldn’t speak; he wouldn’t react to their insults. Instead, he focused on his breathing, on the sensation of cool air against his skin, sharply contrasting with the heat radiating off the alphas.

The leaner alpha stepped forward, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he reached out to grasp Jisung’s chin, forcing him to look up. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? You really think you can just ignore us?”

Jisung turned his head away, refusing to meet the alpha’s gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, but he swallowed hard, pushing back against the wave of fear threatening to overwhelm him. He wouldn’t give them anything.

The alpha chuckled darkly, tightening his grip around Jisung’s jaw. “You’re going to regret that.”

The other alpha leaned in, his face alight with sick anticipation. “You’re just a little plaything for us now. You think you can just sit there and be quiet? We’ll make you scream soon enough, omega.”

Jisung’s pulse quickened, but he kept his expression neutral, his mind racing to find a way out. He was trapped, and the realization twisted his stomach in knots. But he refused to show weakness.

“Maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll let you watch while we take turns with your friend downstairs,” the bulkier alpha said, his voice dripping with malice. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Jisung’s heart sank, a cold dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of Felix. He hoped the other omega was safe, wherever he was. But for now, he had to focus on himself.

“Don’t worry,” the leaner alpha continued, stepping back as if savoring the moment. “We’ll have plenty of time to play with you. Just the two of us, nice and quiet.”

The bulkier alpha leaned over Jisung, a twisted grin stretching across his face. Without warning, he grabbed Jisung’s hair, pulling his head back sharply. Pain shot through Jisung’s scalp, but he bit down on his tongue, refusing to make a sound.

“Look at you, all defiant,” the alpha mocked, tightening his grip. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

With a swift motion, he slapped Jisung across the face, the sting radiating through his head. The world tilted for a moment, and Jisung struggled to refocus as the metallic taste of blood mingled with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Without warning, he drove a fist into Jisung’s stomach. The breath left Jisung’s lungs in a rush. He began gasping for air. The shock of pain radiated through his core, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

The bulkier alpha stepped back, admiring his handiwork. “You’re looking a bit rough around the edges, omega,” he said, his voice mocking. “Let’s fix that.”

He delivered another brutal punch to Jisung’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him again. Jisung gasped, his vision blurring as he fought to stay conscious. The alphas were relentless; each blow was a calculated move intended to break him down.

The bulkier alpha leaned down, grabbing Jisung by the throat and squeezing just enough to steal his breath. “I could end it quickly,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “But where’s the fun in that?”

He pressed a blade against Jisung’s throat, the cold metal biting into his skin. “Let’s see if this little game changes your mind about staying quiet,” he taunted, the threat hanging heavy in the air.

Jisung’s heart raced, panic surging through him, but he held his ground, forcing himself to look the alpha in the eyes. He wouldn’t give in. He wouldn’t scream.

The leaner alpha stepped closer, watching with gleeful anticipation. “What a pity if you lost that pretty little throat,” he taunted, his excitement palpable.

With a swift motion, the bulkier alpha drew the knife across Jisung’s skin, a thin line of crimson appearing as the blade nicked him. Pain erupted, sharp and consuming, but Jisung bit down hard on his lip to stifle any sound.

“Still quiet?” the bulkier alpha chuckled darkly, his eyes shining with pleasure. “ Jisung felt warmth trickle down his neck, blood pooling against the table as he struggled against the restraints.

The leaner alpha stood beside him, fingers digging into the bruises already forming on Jisung’s body. He leaned in closer, sporting a sick smile. “Just think, we have all day to play,” he whispered, his breath hot against Jisung’s skin.

The weight of the alphas pressed down on Jisung, their presence suffocating. They drew nearer, their bodies inches from his, the heat radiating off them in stark contrast to the cold table beneath him. Jisung could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, mingling with dread. He struggled beneath them, the chains rattling softly, but the more he fought, the more they seemed to relish it.

“You think you can resist us?” the bulkier alpha taunted, his fingers digging into Jisung’s hips, marking him with bruises. “You think you have any power here?” He pressed down harder, forcing Jisung’s body into the cold surface beneath him, making him gasp.

The leaner alpha leaned in, his breath hot against Jisung’s ear. “Your body tells a different story,” he said, trailing his fingers down Jisung’s torso, teasingly grazing over his skin.

“I can feel how much you want this,” the leaner alpha continued, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down Jisung’s spine. The bulging presence of the other alpha was relentless, forcing him to lay flat on the table, exposing him entirely. The humiliation was suffocating.

“Stop!” Jisung managed to gasp, but his voice was merely a breath against the walls of their twisted words, drowned out by their mocking laughter.

The bulkier alpha smirked, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against Jisung’s neck, planting rough kisses that sent shockwaves of fear through him. “Make me,” he murmured, a low growl that resonated with raw, predatory hunger.

As the leaner alpha’s hands roamed further, slipping beneath Jisung’s restraints, he felt the alpha’s fingers trace along his sides, inching dangerously close to his hole. “I think you’re going to love this, omega,” he said, his fingers brushing against Jisung’s most sensitive area, eliciting an involuntary whimper that betrayed him.

“See how much fun we can have?” the bulkier alpha teased, his fingers pinching Jisung’s thigh, drawing a hiss of pain from him. “You just need to let go. You could be our little toy, and we could play all day long.”

They were relentless. The leaner alpha’s fingers danced lower, brushing against Jisung’s inner thigh, teasingly slow. “When’s your next heat, huh?” he taunted, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Maybe I should put a pup in you. Two pregnant omegas instead of one would be such a delight.”

The words hung heavily in the air. Jisung’s breath hitched, anger and humiliation mixing as he fought against the overwhelming sensations. The bulkier alpha’s fingers curled around his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Look at you, already falling apart,” he mocked, his thumb stroking Jisung’s lower lip, his eyes dark with amusement. “You don’t know how much we’re going to enjoy this.”

Jisung felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks. He thrashed against the restraints, trying to twist away, but it only fueled their hunger. The leaner alpha pressed closer, capturing Jisung’s lips in a fierce kiss that was possessive and dominating.

“Just give in, omega,” the bulkier alpha hissed, using his hands to force Jisung’s legs apart.

“Fuck you,” Jisung spat, his voice laced with hatred.

“Why don’t you say that again?” the leaner alpha taunted, pressing a finger into Jisung, teasingly, as if testing the waters.

The bulkier alpha leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting over Jisung’s skin as he bit down gently, the pain igniting a twisted sense of exhilaration. “We’ll see about that,” he growled, the promise of more to come suffocating in the air.

“Does it feel good?” the leaner alpha purred, his voice low and sultry, thrusting another finger into Jisung’s hole. “Are you going to beg for more?”

“Never,” Jisung managed to reply, though his voice wavered, the fire within him battling against the rising heat of shame. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing him beg.

He wanted them dead.

Chapter Text

Blood trickled down his chin as he whimpered, the metallic taste clinging to his tongue. Shadows loomed over him, a swirling mass of darkness that bit and clawed, alive with malevolence. One shadow, larger than the others, seized his throat, applying a vice-like grip that stole his breath away. The pressure became unbearable, each pulse of pain echoing through his fading consciousness, and he blinked softly, feeling the unfurling veil of darkness encircle his vision.

His eyes fell upon the knives strewn across his stomach. The blood seeped from his wounds, a slow, agonizing drip echoing in the silence around him, as the shadows whispered amongst themselves. Their voices, a cacophony of hushed tones, rumbled like distant thunder, but the meaning eluded him. The confusion compounded his disorientation.

Felix’s body lay heavy, as if anchored to the ground. He felt nothing—no sensation in his toes, no awareness of the blade that carved into his skin, only a sense of numbing resignation. With another blink, he surrendered to the depths of unconsciousness, drawn in by the darkness that promised an escape from his agony.

Pain sliced through the murkiness of his mind. Felix whimpered softly, eyes fluttering open once more, grappling with the blurred shapes that hovered above him. The world came into focus, revealing two alphas with twisted smiles, their sickened glee apparent in the gleam of their eyes. Felix recoiled as one of them pressed a finger into his abdomen, the sharpness of their touch igniting fresh pain. He gasped and glanced down, horror dawning as he beheld the crimson stains that painted his skin, marking the path of the cuts and bite marks that marred his once-smooth flesh.

An instinctual growl rose in his throat, but his body was worn thin, lacking the strength to fight back. The alphas exchanged vile words, their laughter punctuating the air like a malignant melody. “Look who is awake,” one of them crooned, feigning concern, as he casually placed his bloodied knife on the table beside them, the clatter echoing ominously. “We were beginning to worry about you. You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”

“You have such pretty blood,” the other alpha remarked, a shiver of revulsion running through Felix as he watched the alpha swipe his thumb across the blood-soaked skin of his belly before licking it clean, a soft hum of delight escaping his lips.

With a faux pout, the first alpha added, “We brought a nurse to see you. She’ll patch you right back up.” Just then, a sharp knock sounded at the door, interrupting the perverse atmosphere.

Without waiting for an invitation, a woman entered, her head held high. Felix squinted at her through the haze of pain clouding his vision; her scent hinted at her status—a beta. She halted at the foot of the bed, her gaze avoiding his like he were a cursed relic. “Only one of you can stay in here. This room isn’t big enough for all of us,” she stated brusquely, her eyes flicking disdainfully towards the alphas.

The bulkier alpha huffed, frustration palpable. He retrieved his knife with a rough clatter, stuffing it into his pocket before storming out, the door slamming shut behind him. Felix’s eyes darted towards the beta, dread coiling within him as she approached. She began unfastening the chains binding him, each click echoing ominously in the silence.

Felix glanced warily at her, yet she didn’t linger on him as she worked, her focus honing in on assessing his injuries. The moment she pressed a cleaning wipe against his tender skin, he hissed in pain, flinching away instinctively. The feeling of her fingers digging relentlessly into his cuts sent shockwaves of agony coursing through him, but he could do little more than endure, his body too weak to protest.

Through her ministrations, she moved methodically over his battered body, pausing only to apply a lotion that stung against his wounds. Each touch ignited a fire beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the pain he was fighting against. Her hands traveled over his chest, arms, thighs, and neck, treating him like a broken doll, and he wanted nothing more than to shrink away, but all he could manage was fragile whimpers as her presence invaded his fleeting sense of safety.

After tending to the visible wounds, her hands lingered over his swollen belly, her expression faltering. She retrieved a stethoscope, placing it upon her ears as she diligently sought out a heartbeat within him. Felix’s heart raced—a primal fear festering within him. Dread wove through his gut. This woman had an agenda, and he dreaded what it might be.

The alpha’s voice cut through the quiet. “Is the pup dead ?" The words dripped with an unsettling nonchalance, as if he were asking about a mere inconvenience rather than a life hanging in the balance. His eyes gleamed with an unholy anticipation, a predatory edge revealing the extent of his malevolence.

The nurse hesitated, her brow furrowing as she sniffed the air, the tension palpable. With her ear pressed against Felix's battered stomach, her silence felt like a countdown, each tick of time sinking further into despair. Felix could feel his heart thumping frantically, a desperate rhythm that seemed to pulse against her ear.

Finally, she stood, her face a mask of professionalism tempered with concern. “The pup's heartbeat is weak, but it is still there.” A wave of relief washed over Felix, only to be quickly overshadowed by the alpha’s dismissive snicker, echoing cruelly in the room.

“I would recommend an abortion,” she said matter-of-factly, her hand rummaging through her bag as she continued, “I can make it quick and painless.”

Panic rippled through Felix’s veins like ice water. He shook his head vehemently, desperation clawing at his throat. “No! You’re not taking my pup away from me!” His voice broke on the last word, echoing a raw plea as his breathing turned erratic, frenzied gasps struggling to escape his constricting chest.

The beta stared at him, her eyes narrowing, the once-faded concern replaced with a hardened resolve. “You will die if we don’t get the pup out as soon as possible. Your body is not strong enough or healthy enough,” she argued, her tone suddenly sharp as she took a step closer, a needle glinting menacingly in her grip.

The alpha was now distracted, his phone blaring in the corner of the room. Cursing under his breath, he answered, his voice low and hurried as he walked away, leaving Felix exposed under the nurse’s intent gaze. The beta moved toward him, the needle poised like a threatening whisper.

“No!” Felix gasped, his heart racing with renewed fear. As the nurse closed the distance, every instinct within him screamed to flee, to protect the life growing inside him, but his body remained still, remained motionless.

Before she could grab Felix, the alpha’s voice rang out from across the room. “We don’t have time for that! The fuckin’ police are on their way!” Panic exploded in the nurse’s eyes as she stowed the needle back into her bag with a swift movement.

The alpha surged over, grasping Felix’s arm and yanking him off the bed with a sudden, brutal force. Felix whimpered, pain radiating through his body as he was thrown forward, unceremoniously dragged from the confines of the room, vulnerable and terrified. His head lulled to the side, barely able to process the grim surroundings whizzing past him.

Felix was barely conscious of the shouting and chaos, the sirens growing louder in the distance—a haunting melody that promised salvation but never seemed to arrive. He felt the weight of inevitability settle within him, a grim understanding that time was unraveling faster than he could keep pace with.

Suddenly, the alpha shoved him outside into the frigid night air, the sudden chill hitting him like a slap in the face. His balance faltered, and the ground rose to meet him hard as he tumbled forward, cold and rough, the ground scraping against his skin. A gasp escaped his lips as pain ignited again, but his eyes flitted around, scanning the darkness desperately.

And there, fleeting between shadows, he caught a glimpse that rooted him to the spot—Jisung. The omega was being dragged towards another van. Jisung looked almost unrecognizable, battered and broken, just like Felix, his eyes dulled.

“Ji—” The word slipped from Felix’s lips, half a gasp, half a prayer.

His cry was abruptly cut off as the alpha seized him with renewed vigor, forcefully propelling him toward a waiting van. Felix barely had time to react, his body colliding painfully against the side of the vehicle, knocking the breath from his lungs yet again. Desperation clawed at his heart as he struggled for composure, but it was too late. The alpha treated him like garbage, tossing him inside the van without hesitation, the door slamming shut behind him, sealing him in the suffocating darkness.

The interior was a blur of metal and shadows, and Felix lay there, trembling and dazed, his body too weak to fight back, his spirit battered but not yet broken. The distant wails of police sirens pierced through the haze, growing closer, each passing moment igniting a flicker of hope he desperately clung to. But salvation felt like an illusion, phantoms of dreams taunting him just out of reach.

As the van jerked into motion, tires screeching against the pavement, Felix’s body was flung against the cold van floor. Pain radiated through him, sharp and unrelenting, but he barely had the energy to groan, let alone scream. All he could do was cling to the remnants of consciousness as the chaos unfolded around him—the driver’s frantic shouts mingling with the cacophony outside.

The alpha cursed vehemently as he pressed on the gas harder, his focus solely on evading the police. Felix's head spun, the world outside whipping by in a dangerous blur. The van careened around corners, the engine roaring loudly, each sharp turn tossing him against the walls. Fear coiled tightly in his gut as he could visualize freedom just beyond the tint of the van's windows—flashing red and blue lights illuminating the night, creeping closer.

With a sudden jolt, the van hit a pothole, and Felix was airborne for an agonizing second, suspended in time before crashing back down. His head collided brutally with the side of the van, the impact sending a shockwave of pain through his skull. Waves of darkness lapped at his consciousness, pulling him down, but he fought against it, clinging to the urgency of the moment.

He could hear the driver’s frantic voice escalating into a panicked shout, caught between curses and desperate commands. Without warning, something small and blindingly white appeared ahead—a pair of headlights barreling straight toward them.

“Shit!”

The collision was cataclysmic. Everything erupted into chaos—the van crumpled forward with a gut-wrenching crunch, glass shattered like ice flaking away, and the world spun into a disarray of sound and fury. The van rolled, a spiraling whirlwind that tossed Felix about violently, each jolt ricocheting through his fractured body. Raw agony painted his senses as another impact knocked him to the side, and for a fleeting moment, all he could focus on was the deafening sound and the blinding chaos of the crash.

Finally, everything came to an agonizing halt. The van lay upside down, suspended in a muted reverberation of the world beyond. Smoke and gasoline filled the heavy air, the scent choking him as he struggled to grasp reality. Gripped in darkness, Felix’s body ached, his mind teetering on the precipice of consciousness.

The distant wail of sirens had become eerily quiet. The last thing Felix registered before darkness wrapped him in its unforgiving embrace was the silhouette of flashing police lights, a beacon of salvation, as shadows enveloped him entirely, a final surrender to oblivion.

Then nothing.

Chapter Text

Jisung’s body felt like lead as he lay in the van, staring blankly at the grimy, cracked window. The air inside was thick with tension, but the other omegas’ fear barely registered in his exhausted mind. He didn’t care about where they were being taken. All he wanted was to escape the nightmare that seemed to stretch on forever. He didn’t see what was happening outside; his world was confined to the van, the discomfort, and the dread gnawing at the edges of his mind.

The van’s tires screeched as they turned sharply, and Jisung was thrown against the cold metal of the van’s interior. He groaned in pain, clutching his side as the alphas in the front cursed and barked orders at one another, their panic evident. His heart raced, but not from the chase—his mind was filled with a growing fear of what might come next. He had no strength to fight, no hope to resist.

Another jolt shook the van, and suddenly, it veered violently. There was a deafening thud, and Jisung felt his entire body slam into the side as the van came to a screeching halt. The sound of metal scraping against the road echoed in his ears.

Everything hurt.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey. From the front, he heard the alphas shouting frantically, something about road spikes and how they were trapped. Their fear surged as they realized the police were closing in.

Without warning, the alphas bolted from the van, abandoning it and the omegas inside. Jisung could barely register their escape as he slumped against the cold metal floor, his body trembling from the strain of trying to stay conscious. The realization that he was alone gripped him with fresh terror. Would they leave him to fend for himself? Was he truly safe now?

Footsteps approached from outside—different footsteps. Jisung’s heart raced at the sound, expecting more alphas, more cruelty, but instead, he heard a soft voice as the door to the van opened.

“It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

Jisung flinched as hands reached for him, instinctively recoiling from the touch. But the hands were gentle, careful, not like the rough grip of the alphas who had tormented him. Slowly, the fear began to ebb away, replaced by a deeper dread. What if this was just another trap? What if these people were just pretending to help?

“Can you hear me?” another voice asked, quieter and more soothing. “You’re safe now.”

Safe. The word barely made sense. He wanted to believe it, but his mind refused to accept it. The memories of the alphas’ cruelty loomed large, flooding his thoughts with images of pain and fear. He was overwhelmed, the very concept of safety feeling like a distant dream.

Before he could process the thought, hands were lifting him from the van, placing him gently onto a stretcher. The cold night air hit him like a wave, but he barely registered it. His body was heavy, his limbs unresponsive as the exhaustion finally overcame him. The world spun around him, the flashing lights of police cars and ambulances blending into a dizzying blur of color and sound.

His head lolled to the side as they wheeled him toward an ambulance, his vision darkening. Felix. His mind clung to that one thought. Was Felix okay? Where was he?

But before Jisung could voice his fears, the darkness pulled him under, and he knew nothing more.

The next time he surfaced, he was overwhelmed by the sounds of urgency and the sterile, sharp scent of antiseptic. His world was a blur of bright lights and white noise, his body sinking into what felt like layers of cotton. Somewhere close by, voices murmured, each word blurring into the next. His vision was too fuzzy to make out any faces, but the sense of movement around him was relentless. Hands prodded and pulled at him—gentle but firm, urgent but controlled.

“Severe malnutrition… looks like an infection in these wounds…”

“We need fluids, stat. His blood pressure’s dangerously low.”

Jisung barely registered the words, but he could feel everything. The sting of an IV needle slipping under his skin, the pressure of bandages being wound tightly around his bruised wrists and ankles, the distant beep of machines monitoring his failing body. It all felt far away, as though happening to someone else. His mind floated in and out of clarity, flashes of pain rippling through him but never enough to pull him fully back into the present.

A nurse leaned over him, her voice a soft lull amidst the chaos. “Hey, can you hear me?” she asked, her tone calm but insistent, cutting through the fog that clouded his thoughts. “We’re going to take care of you now. You’re safe. No alphas are going to come near you. Just breathe.”

The words were like a distant echo, something Jisung couldn’t fully grasp. His heart clenched at the mention of alphas, and his body tensed instinctively, fear curling deep in his gut. No alphas. No alphas. He wanted to believe her, but every nerve in his body screamed otherwise. His pulse raced as the memories of the past months—the abuse, the fear, the helplessness—clawed their way back to the surface.

The nurse’s hand rested on his arm, her touch light, a gentle reminder of the present. “You’re going to be alright,” she said as she adjusted the IV line, her fingers brushing over his bruised skin. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

But safety seemed like an impossible concept to Jisung now. It was an abstract idea that had slipped through his fingers too many times. He wanted to tell her, to explain that safety had become a distant memory—something he didn’t know how to recognize anymore. But the words were stuck, lodged somewhere deep inside him, suffocated by the trauma and fear that still held him captive.

His thoughts drifted, slipping through the cracks of consciousness. Even as the nurses worked to patch up his body, his mind was elsewhere—back in the van, back with Felix.

Felix.

He barely noticed when the nurses paused in their work, one of them stepping forward to look down at him with kind, concerned eyes. “Do you have an alpha we can call? Someone who can come for you?” Her question was soft, but it sliced through Jisung’s fragile mental state like a blade.

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The words came slowly, choked out from somewhere deep within him. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a broken breath. “No alpha.”

Tears welled up in his eyes before he could stop them, and he hated how weak it made him feel. He hated the trembling in his hands, the way his body shook with the effort of holding himself together. He was so tired—tired of being broken, tired of being afraid, tired of being at the mercy of alphas who only ever seemed to want to hurt him.

The nurse exchanged a quick glance with her colleague, her expression softening with sympathy. “That’s okay,” she said gently, sitting beside him on the bed for a moment. “You don’t need an alpha. Once you’re stable, we’ll send you to a sanctuary. It’s a place for omegas. You’ll be safe there. No alphas are allowed. Just a place for you to heal, okay?”

Jisung wanted to believe her. The word “sanctuary” sounded like something out of a dream, a place he could barely imagine anymore. A world where alphas didn’t exist, where he didn’t have to live in constant fear—could it really be real? But doubt clouded his thoughts. What would safety look like, feel like, if he ever found it? Could he even find peace in a world so shattered?

The nurses finished their work, offering him one last reassuring smile before they left him alone in the quiet hospital room. The silence was deafening, broken only by the steady beeping of the machines monitoring his vital signs. Jisung lay still, his body too weak to move, his mind too exhausted to fight the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to drown him.

He was barely holding on, and the weight of it all felt suffocating.

Then, the door creaked open.

Jisung’s heart stopped as he caught sight of the alpha standing at the doorway. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room with an air of quiet authority. He didn’t move toward Jisung, but the intensity in his gaze was impossible to escape. The alpha’s eyes swept over him, sharp and calculating, as though he was trying to assess every detail, every hidden truth that Jisung might be withholding.

“Do you remember what the alphas looked like?” the alpha asked, his voice low and steady, but there was a subtle urgency beneath the calm.

Jisung’s body locked up, panic tightening its grip around his throat. His fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles turning white. He couldn’t answer, couldn’t force the words out. His mind raced back to the alphas who had hurt him, to the nights spent trapped, unable to escape. All the faces blurred together in his memory, distorted by fear and pain.

The alpha’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. He took a step closer, though still careful to keep a distance between them. “Any detail,” he pressed, his voice more intense now. “One of them—was he tall? Scarred? Did he have black hair? Think.”

Jisung shook his head slowly, the motion small and weak. He didn’t want to think about them, didn’t want to relive the horror of being under their control.

The alpha’s frustration was palpable, his fists clenching at his sides. His voice dropped, softer but no less urgent. “They hurt Felix, didn’t they? You saw it happen. I need to know.”

The mere mention of Felix’s name made Jisung’s breath hitch. His mind flashed back to Felix’s bloodied form, the brokenness in the omegas eyes, the helplessness Jisung had felt watching him suffer. It was too much. His hands shook as the memories overwhelmed him, and he felt like he was about to break all over again.

“Please,” the alpha’s voice cracked, just a little, though he tried to hide it. “Anything.”

Jisung tried, tried so hard to form the words, to say something, but all he could do was shake his head again, tears pooling in his eyes. He didn’t know how to help. He couldn’t.

The alpha exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable as he stared at Jisung for another long moment. Finally, he turned away, his shoulders tense with the weight of everything unsaid.

“If you remember anything… anything at all, tell the nurses,” the alpha said quietly, his voice softer now, tinged with an emotion Jisung couldn’t place. “They’ll find me.”

With that, the alpha left, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Jisung was alone again, his heart still pounding, his body trembling under the weight of everything he had just endured.

Chapter Text

Nurses and doctors rushed past him, their faces etched with concern, the air thick with urgency as Minho sat rigid in the uncomfortable foldable chair just outside Felix’s room. He counted the footsteps of the medical staff, the low murmurs of conversations, and the faint echo of patients coughing in nearby rooms, each sound tightening the knot in his stomach. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air, and the hospital felt alive with movement, yet each noise grated against him, gnawing at his already frayed nerves.

Felix was beyond that door, but no one—no one—was allowed in except for the doctors and nurses. Each passing moment felt like an eternity; Minho had lost track of how many people had entered and left. Each medical professional’s expression grew grimmer by the hour, deepening his anxiety. Every time the heavy door swung open, Minho's heart lurched with a glimmer of hope, but the tightening of their jaws and the avoidance of eye contact spoke a cruel truth that felt like a physical blow.

He stared down at the plastic tupperware container resting in his lap, his fingers gripping it tightly as if holding it would somehow keep the rest of his world from spiraling into chaos. Inside lay food, something he had prepared earlier—leftovers meant for his mates, especially for Chan, who would likely be running on adrenaline and little else. Minho ached to barge into Felix’s room, to shove past anyone who tried to restrain him, to let his mate know he wasn’t alone in this fight. The thought flickered through his mind like a beacon, but Seungmin kept grounding him.

“Fuck, my back is killing me,” Seungmin muttered, shifting in the chair beside Minho as the plastic creaked in protest against his restlessness. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his head leaning awkwardly against the wall.

“I can give you the key to the hotel room,” Minho offered, his voice low and barely above a whisper, not bothering to look over at his mate. “You know where the car’s parked.”

Seungmin snorted, the sound weary but filled with affection. “Fuck off, asshole.” He rolled his eyes, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips, a flicker of amusement amidst the tension.

Minho couldn’t help but smile back, though the moment was fleeting and bittersweet. The conversation between them served as a distraction, yet it did little to ease the suffocating tightness in his chest. He forced his grip to relax around the container in his lap.

Seungmin groaned dramatically, rolling his head to look at Minho through his lashes. “Just take the damn leftovers to the omega in that room,” he said, pointing lazily toward the room a few doors down from Felix’s.

Minho’s gaze followed the direction of Seungmin’s finger, landing on the door with the muted number stenciled on the frosted glass. He frowned, immediately recognizing it. “I’ve already been in there,” he muttered, his voice laced with reluctance. “He’s not going to want to see me again.” The memory of his first awkward encounter with the omega played through his mind like a reel of unflattering clips.

“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine,” Seungmin retorted, his tone annoyingly matter-of-fact, an expression that combined irritation and amusement. “But you don’t need to be all rainbows and butterflies. Just give him the food. The hospital slop they’re serving is probably worse than the chair I’m sitting in.”

Minho sighed deeply, leaning back against the uncomfortable plastic, wishing for all the world that he could just disappear. “I was saving this for Chan. He probably hasn’t eaten since this whole mess started.”

Seungmin gave him a flat look, the light in his eyes dimming slightly, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulder. “Take it to the omega.”

Minho looked back at the door to the other room, a wave of trepidation washing over him. The omega was likely still asleep, and perhaps that was for the best. The last thing he wanted was to scare the other man again or force a conversation that neither of them was ready for. However, dark thoughts swirled in his mind; this omega had experienced something horrific that Minho was desperate to understand. Felix was out of commission, unable to provide the answers he sought, and this other omega might have the answer he needs.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the chair; the legs scraped noisily against the floor, sounding far too loud in the oppressive silence of the hallway. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be happy about it,” he grumbled, the words tumbling out with far less conviction than he wished.

Seungmin waved him off dismissively, already repositioning himself to get more comfortable in his chair, adjusting it to a slightly more favorable position. “I don’t expect you to be happy about anything.”

Minho shook his head, a wry smile slipping through his anxiety as he walked down the hall, the container still clutched in his grip. He stood in front of the other omega's door for a moment, hesitation gnawing at him as his fingers hovered nervously over the handle. He wasn’t good at this—talking to strangers, especially when they were terrified out of their minds.He steeled himself, pushed the door open quietly, and stepped inside, hoping that the omega was asleep.

As he crossed the threshold, the soft sound of beeping machines filled the air. The omega lay curled up on the bed, his frail body tangled in white hospital sheets that did little to conceal how small and fragile he appeared. Minho felt something twist painfully in his chest at the sight—this young man had endured the same hell as Felix, and the thought of what he must have been through made Minho's stomach churn with dread.

He moved silently to the small bedside table that was cluttered with medical supplies. With deliberate care, he set the container down, placing it within easy reach of the omega. As soon as it touched the table, the quiet rustle of plastic stirred the other man from his slumber, his eyes flying open with a jolt, wide with confusion and horror.

Fear flashed across the omega’s face at the sight of him, and instinctively, his body curled in on itself, scrambling to the farthest corner of the bed as if he could force himself through the wall and escape Minho’s presence. He clutched the blanket to his chest like a shield, his wide, terrified eyes locking onto Minho.

Minho’s heart sank at the sight. He immediately took a step back, raising his hands slightly to show that he wasn’t a threat. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, lowering his voice, trying to emit calm and reassurance through his tone. “My mate insisted you get something decent to eat. It’s better than whatever the hospital is giving you.” He gestured toward the tupperware container, his voice soothing but firm, as he felt the tension in the room begin to thicken.

The omega didn’t move. Fear blended with suspicion in his eyes as he remained huddled beneath the blanket, his face mostly obscured, only the top of his dark hair and the glimmer of his anxious eyes visible.

“Go away,” the omega whispered, the words muffled by the fabric, trembling with a blend of agitation and fear.

Minho felt his jaw tighten as impatience mingled with empathy. His patience was already wearing thin, fraying like the edges of his nerves. He pointed at the container on the table, willing him to see the utility of it. “Eat that, and I’ll leave,” he encouraged, hoping the offer held something appealing in the face of his silent terror.

Silence draped over the room like a heavy blanket. The omega didn’t move, didn’t respond, just stared at Minho with those wide, fearful eyes, a tension so palpable it felt like a living entity wrapping around them both.

Minho let out a frustrated breath, raking a hand through his disheveled hair, unrest rippling through him like electricity. “Look, I don’t care if you’re scared of me or if you don’t want to talk to me,” he said firmly, frustration bleeding into his voice. “But you need to eat. You’re not doing yourself any favors by starving.” His brow furrowed as he watched the other omega huddle deeper into the bedding, seeming to disappear within its folds.

Stubbornness reared its head within him—a familiar feeling that propelled him onward against the current of doubt and fear. He was not leaving until this omega ate; he had to—whether out of necessity or simply to quell Seungmin’s incessant remarks later. “I’m not leaving until you eat,” he declared, planting himself at the foot of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly, daring the omega to ignore him.

For a moment, the omega didn’t respond, caught between fight and flight. But then, slowly and with clear reluctance, a trembling hand emerged from beneath the blanket, shaky fingers reaching for the container on the table. He opened it cautiously, the plastic crinkling softly, and his nose twitched as the aroma of the food wafted toward him.

Minho watched in silence, his expression softening slightly as he observed the other man's hesitation. The omega paused, taking a timid bite at first, nibbling on the edge of the meal like a frightened animal testing the waters. His eyes darted back to Minho repeatedly, a nervous instinct lacing his every movement as if he feared an attack before savaging the food. With each passing moment, the tentative bites grew larger, bolder.

In the silence that stretched between them, the omega's initial reluctance faded, his frantic need for food overtaking any lingering fear. He continued to eat, the food disappearing at an alarming rate, and Minho’s chest tightened again as the sight struck an unsettling chord within him. This omega had been starving, not just in body but in spirit as well, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for him to heal—if healing were truly possible after such trauma.

“Slow down,” Minho murmured, his voice a gentle command, far softer than before. “There’s more if you want it.”

The omega paused, glancing up at him warily, his eyes still brimming with apprehension. Almost as if he were assessing whether Minho was being genuine or simply luring him into a false sense of security. He took a deep breath and hesitated, an internal battle battling behind his gaze, but eventually, he returned to the meal with a slight rein on his hunger.

When the last of the food vanished, Minho cleared his throat, urgency creeping into his tone. “I need you to tell me about what happened—anything you remember. It’s important.” He felt the weight of desperation threading through his whole being as he wrestled with his urgency for the truth.

The omega froze, his eyes darkening as apprehension threaded through him once more. His hands clenched around the empty container, his entire body tense again, retreating back into his own protective shell.

Minho sighed, feeling the heat of frustration bubbling back up. The last thing he wanted was for the other man to zone out again. “I know you’re scared,” he began, forcing himself to soften his tone further, but struggling against the swell of anxiety pulsating through him as he spoke. “But we need answers. Felix—my mate—he was taken too. I need to know what they did to you. What they did to him.”

But the omega remained tight-lipped. His lips pressed together in a thin line, defiance flickering beneath the surface. His gaze dropped to the blanket in his lap, a clear signal that he wasn’t going to open up.

“Fine,” Minho muttered, pushing himself off the bed with an air of resignation. Frustration coursed through his veins, but he couldn’t force the other omega to share his experiences. “But don’t think I’m done asking,” he warned with a parting glance, hoping to convey that he genuinely meant it.

As Minho turned to leave, his heart ached with the weight of unanswered questions, an intangible longing for the truth that lingered like smoke in the air. Before he could fully exit, the door swung open abruptly, and Seungmin stepped into the room, his expression wide with urgency, his breath coming out in rapid bursts like fire in his lungs.

“Minho,” he called, his voice tinged with panic and adrenaline, the kind that sent an electric pulse through the thick atmosphere. “You need to come with me. It’s Felix.”

Minho’s heart skipped a beat, panic threading through him like an icy grip. “What? What happened?”

Seungmin didn’t offer an explanation, just motioned frantically for him to follow, his demeanor conveying that there was no time to waste. “Now,” he urged.

Chapter Text

Seungmin stared at the doctor, the sterile white walls of the hospital somehow closing in around him. The air felt thin, hard to breathe in, and his chest ached. The constant hum of the hospital, the beeping of machines, the low murmur of voices—it all felt distant, muffled under the roaring in his ears. Next to him, Minho was frozen, wide-eyed and stiff, as though the world had just been yanked from beneath their feet.

“What?” Minho finally managed to choke out, his voice trembling with disbelief. “What did you just say?”

The doctor glanced at Felix’s file, his face carefully composed, though his eyes held a quiet sympathy. He repeated it, slower this time, as if to ensure the weight of his words fully sank in. “Felix is awake, but the only person he has asked to see is an omega named Jisung.”

Seungmin blinked, confusion swirling in his head. Jisung? He exchanged a glance with Minho, searching for understanding in his mate’s eyes, but found none. Felix… wanted someone else? Someone neither of them had even heard of? An omega, no less, in a situation where they, his mates, should have been the ones by his side?

“Who the hell is Jisung?” Minho demanded, his voice sharp now, frustration clouding his confusion. His fists clenched by his sides.

The doctor exhaled softly, clearly sensing their rising emotions. “Jisung is another patient here. He was brought in at the same time as Felix. We believe they were kidnapped by the same people.”

Another patient? Seungmin’s thoughts raced, trying to piece everything together. Felix had been trapped for months—months—and there had been someone else with him this whole time? Another omega?

“We don’t know anyone named Jisung,” Seungmin said, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his uncertainty making the words heavier. “Why… why would Felix want to see him?”

The doctor’s eyes softened. His tone remained calm, professional, but Seungmin could see the sympathy lurking beneath the surface. “Felix has been through severe trauma, both physical and psychological. It’s possible he formed a bond with Jisung during their captivity, a bond that may feel safer or more familiar right now. He’s asking for someone he might associate with that safety.”

Minho’s fists clenched tighter, his jaw set in a hard line. “But we’re his mates,” he hissed, his frustration and pain bleeding into his words. “We should be the ones with him. Not—”

“Not some stranger,” Seungmin finished quietly, though his heart wasn’t entirely in the argument. He understood the logic, even if it hurt to admit. The months of separation from Felix—the uncertainty, the fear— had torn them apart in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Felix had endured horrors they couldn’t even begin to imagine, and maybe, just maybe, the person he had survived alongside felt like the safest person to him right now.

The doctor didn’t answer immediately. He closed Felix’s file with a soft sigh, shifting his gaze between them before asking, “Where is Chan? He’s listed as Felix’s emergency contact. We’ll need to update him on the situation.”

“Chan’s on his way,” Seungmin replied, his throat tight. “He’s with another one of our mates. They’ll be here soon.”

The doctor nodded, but the tension between them remained thick, unspoken questions swirling in the air. Seungmin could feel the strain in every fiber of his being, the gnawing anxiety that had been clawing at him since the moment they’d found out Felix was missing. And now that they’d found him… it felt like the nightmare still hadn’t ended. It was a cruel twist of fate, to be so close yet still feel like they were miles away.

“We’ve been separated from each other for months,” Seungmin explained, trying to make sense of the chaos, if only for his own mind. Maybe if he spoke the words aloud, they would seem more real, more manageable. “Looking for him. We split into pairs—Minho and I, Changbin and Hyunjin, Chan and Jeongin. We’ve been searching for so long, and now…” His voice cracked, the weight of those words catching in his throat. Now, everything was different. Everything was wrong.

Minho ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps away. Seungmin could see the tension radiating off him, could see the way he was struggling to keep himself together. Minho had always been the one who needed control, the one who needed to fix things. And right now, they were in a situation that felt unfixable.

The doctor cleared his throat, bringing their attention back. “There are… concerns about Felix’s condition,” he said carefully, his tone more guarded now. He was weighing his words more heavily, as if unsure of how much to reveal to them in this fragile state. “We’ve done everything we can to stabilize him, but he’s still weak.”

Seungmin’s pulse quickened, the dread crawling up his spine. He wasn’t sure he could handle hearing more bad news. Not when they were already hanging by a thread. “What… what kind of concerns?” he asked slowly, his voice tight with fear.

The doctor hesitated, his eyes flicking between Seungmin and Minho as though weighing the impact of his next words. Finally, he spoke, carefully measured, “We’re trying our best to keep both Felix and the pup alive.”

Seungmin felt the floor drop out from under him. The pup? His heart stopped, the word reverberating in his mind like a gunshot.

“The—what?” Minho’s voice was barely a breath, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. His wide eyes met Seungmin’s, both of them frozen, trying to make sense of what they’d just heard. Felix… is pregnant?

The doctor’s brows furrowed slightly, as though he expected this conversation to have already happened. “Felix is pregnant,” he said, his voice calm but matter-of-fact, as though he thought they knew this already. “He’s nearly six months along.”

The words hit Seungmin like a physical blow. His lungs constricted, the room suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Pregnant. Felix was… pregnant. And they hadn’t known. They hadn’t had a clue. Seungmin could feel his hands shaking at his sides, his legs threatening to give out from under him. The realization hit him all at once—the months they’d spent apart, the torment Felix must have gone through, and the fact that he had been carrying their child through it all.

Minho let out a strangled noise, his eyes wide with disbelief as he turned to face the doctor fully. “No. No, that’s not possible. He would have told us. He would have told—”

The doctor shook his head gently, the weight of his words sinking in. “I assumed you were all aware,” he said softly. “I’m sorry if this comes as a shock, but we discovered the pregnancy during our initial examination. Given how far along Felix is, it must have happened before his abduction.”

Seungmin’s mind raced, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Felix had been carrying their child—this whole time. And they hadn’t known. They hadn’t been there for him. They hadn’t protected him. The realization tore through him like a jagged blade, carving through every defense he had left. How could they have not known? How could they have let this happen?

“How… how is he?” Seungmin asked, his voice small, almost afraid to know the answer.

The doctor hesitated again, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Felix is stable for now, but the pregnancy has put a significant strain on his body. His condition is delicate. Both he and the pup are at risk, which is why we may need to discuss… certain decisions.”

Seungmin’s stomach twisted into knots. He couldn’t breathe, the world spinning around him. This was too much—too much to process, too much to handle. Felix was awake, but he was fragile, and their pup was fighting for life inside him. Their pup. The weight of those words pressed down on him, suffocating.

Minho had gone eerily silent beside him, staring down at the floor as though he couldn’t bear to meet anyone’s eyes. Seungmin knew that look. It was the look Minho got when everything was falling apart, and he didn’t know how to fix it. The look that said Minho was about to break, that the pressure was too much, the control slipping through his fingers like sand. Minho hated being powerless. He hated standing by while others suffered. And now, their mate—their mate—was in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, and there was nothing Minho could do to change that.

“We’ll wait for Chan,” the doctor said, his voice gentler now. “We’ll go over everything once he’s here.” The doctor quickly left after that.

Seungmin didn’t know how much time had passed since the doctor had left them standing in the hospital hallway, the heavy silence pressing down on his chest. Every second dragged on as his mind raced—Felix was awake, Felix was pregnant, Felix had asked for Jisung, not them. The words repeated in his head like a cruel mantra, sharp and unforgiving.

Minho sat in one of the stiff plastic chairs, head in his hands, defeated. Seungmin couldn’t bring himself to sit. He paced the hallway instead, his movements restless, as if trying to outrun the weight of the guilt that gnawed at him. They had failed Felix, failed to protect him when he needed them most.

Chan and Jeongin’s hurried footsteps broke through the tense quiet, and Seungmin stopped pacing as the two rushed toward them. Chan’s face was a mixture of exhaustion and fear, his voice rough when he spoke.

“Where’s Felix?”

Seungmin exchanged a quick glance with Minho before replying, “He’s awake, but… he asked for someone else. An omega named Jisung.”

The confusion that flashed across Chan’s face mirrored Seungmin’s own feelings. “Who is Jisung?” Chan’s voice was tight, frustration lacing every word.

“We don’t know him,” Seungmin said softly. “He was with Felix when they were rescued.”

Before the tension could escalate further, the doctor reappeared, his gaze locking onto Chan. “Mr. Bang, could I speak with you privately?” he asked, his tone professional but urgent.

Chan hesitated for a split second, his eyes darting to the door where Felix was, but then he nodded and followed the doctor down the hallway.

The hallway fell quiet again. Seungmin’s chest felt heavy, weighed down by the stillness, but the silence was soon broken by the soft sound of Jeongin clearing his throat.

“I, uh… I brought something for Felix,” Jeongin murmured, the words hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure if now was the right time. His lips quirked in a nervous, almost apologetic smile as he reached into the small bag slung over his shoulder. “I just thought… maybe it would help him.”

Seungmin’s eyes followed the motion, curiosity prickling at the edges of his exhaustion. Jeongin’s hand emerged, clutching a small, familiar plushie—a tiny yellow chick, its worn fabric frayed slightly at the edges from years of love. It was the plush Felix always kept tucked on the couch, nestled among the pillows as though it was part of the family itself.

The sight of it hit Seungmin like a punch to the gut. His breath caught, and suddenly, the memory of Felix sitting on the couch, laughing softly as he hugged the little chick to his chest, came flooding back. It was such a small thing, that plushie, but it held so much warmth, so much of Felix. It felt like a piece of him was still here, still within reach.

Jeongin’s hand shook slightly as he held it out for them to see, his voice a low whisper. “I thought maybe… maybe it would remind him of home. Of us. You know?”

His voice cracked, the vulnerability in it raw and unshielded. Seungmin could see the weight Jeongin carried—so young, so desperate to do something, anything, to make things better.

“He’s going to need us,” Seungmin said after a moment, his voice low but steady. His eyes were fixed on the plushie, the memories of Felix wrapping it in his arms in times of stress playing like a reel in his mind. “He might not know it yet, but… he’s going to need us. We have to be there for him. No matter how long it takes.”

Jeongin, standing next to them, wiped at his eyes quickly, but his voice was determined, laced with the quiet strength that Seungmin had come to admire in him. “We’ll be here,” he said softly. “We’ll wait for him.“

Chapter Text

Chan followed the doctor down the hall, each step feeling like a weight pulling him deeper into a dark unknown. His mind raced with questions, but fear clamped his throat shut. They stopped in a quiet corner, far from the sterile brightness of the hospital’s main corridors. Here, there were no interruptions, just the low hum of machines and the overwhelming reality of what was about to be said.

“How bad is he?” Chan’s voice trembled, barely masking the desperation leaking through.

The doctor’s face was grim, his eyes filled with the kind of sympathy that made Chan’s stomach twist. “Felix is stable for now, but…” he hesitated, as if weighing his words, “he’s showing signs of aggression after waking up.”

“Aggression?” Chan echoed, confused. “Felix isn't- he’s not—”

“It’s not Felix, not consciously,” the doctor cut in gently. “His omega instincts are in overdrive. His body still believes he’s in danger. He’s been trying to rip out his IV, fighting the nurses. He’s becoming feral.”

Feral. The word landed like a punch, knocking the air out of Chan. He blinked, trying to wrap his mind around it, but the image of Felix—the soft-spoken, gentle Felix he loved—becoming feral was too much to bear. His Felix, the one who smiled with the sun in his eyes and warmth in every word, was now lost in some primal fear, trapped by what those monsters had done to him.

Chan pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to steady himself, but his chest ached as if his heart was breaking into pieces he couldn’t put back together.

“What… what about his injuries?” Chan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure he could handle hearing more, but he had to know. He needed to know what Felix had endured.

The doctor’s gaze darkened. “Felix was severely malnourished when we found him. His arms… they’re covered in needle marks. Infected pricks from repeated drug injections. We also found numerous lacerations across his body—some old, some fresh.”

Chan felt his knees give out slightly, catching himself on the wall as the doctor’s words sunk in. In his mind’s eye, he could see Felix’s pale skin marred by cuts, bruises, and the angry red welts of needle marks. It was too much—too much for anyone, let alone his Felix, who had always been so vibrant, so full of life. The image was wrong, so wrong, and the thought of those wounds carving into the body he loved was unbearable.

He felt his vision blur with tears, blinking rapidly to clear them. “And… the malnutrition…”

The doctor nodded gravely. “Felix’s body is weak. He hasn’t been eating properly for a long time. His muscles have atrophied, and his immune system is compromised. We’re treating him for infections, but his condition is delicate.”

Delicate. That word felt too gentle for the wreckage the doctor was describing. Chan’s heart shattered anew with every detail, his mind struggling to process the reality of Felix’s suffering. It was like hearing about someone else, some stranger who had endured unspeakable horrors—but it wasn’t. It was Felix. His Felix.

Chan ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus, trying not to let the panic rise. “Do you… do you know who did this to him?”

The doctor shook his head, and Chan felt a surge of helpless frustration. “The alpha driving the van with Felix died in the crash,” the doctor said, his tone heavy. “The police are investigating, but right now, the only ones who can tell us what happened are Felix, Jisung, and the other omegas they found with them.”

Chan swallowed hard, his throat tightening at the mention of Jisung and the others. “The police want to talk to Felix?”

“They do,” the doctor confirmed. “But the hospital has restricted access for now. Felix isn’t ready. None of them are.”

Relief washed over Chan, though it did little to dull the pain. At least Felix wouldn’t have to relive his trauma just yet. But the knowledge that the rest of Felix’s captors were still out there gnawed at him. He wanted answers, justice, but right now, all he wanted was for Felix to heal.

The doctor’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “There’s one more thing I need to talk to you about. It’s… difficult, and you don’t have to make a decision right away.”

Chan’s stomach dropped at the shift in the doctor’s tone. “What is it?” he asked, dread seeping into his voice.

The doctor hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Felix is… pregnant.”

Chan’s world tilted, the words not fully registering. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head as if denying it could change reality. “No, that’s not possible. Felix isn’t—he can’t be—”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” the doctor said gently. “Felix is almost six months along.”

Six months. Six months . Chan felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath him. How could this have happened? How had none of them known? His mind raced with a million questions, but his heart was drowning in disbelief and fear.

“The pregnancy has weakened him even further,” the doctor continued, his voice steady but somber. “In his current state, both Felix and the pup are in danger. I have to recommend either terminating the pregnancy or allowing the pregnancy to go full term and save the pup, but I'm afraid Felix wouldn't survive the birth.”

Chan’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his ears. The thought was like a knife twisting in his gut, cutting deeper with every second. He couldn’t process it. Couldn’t even begin to think about making that kind of decision.

But before Chan could say anything, before the weight of that decision could truly hit him, a loud voice echoed down the hall.

“Why can’t I see him?!”

Hyunjin came barreling toward them, his eyes wild with panic, his face twisted in frustration and fear. “Why can’t I see Felix?!” he demanded, his voice cracking.

Chan blinked, momentarily pulled from his own spiraling thoughts. “Hyun—” he started, but Hyunjin cut him off.

“They won’t let me in! He’s my soulmate, and they won’t let me see him!” Hyunjin’s voice was rising, his hands shaking at his sides.

“Hyunjin, calm down,” Chan said softly, reaching out to place a hand on the younger alpha’s arm. “We’re trying to figure everything out. The doctor’s doing everything he can.”

Hyunjin’s chest heaved, his eyes wide and wild, but slowly, he let Chan guide him back toward where their mates were waiting. Chan glanced over at the doctor, his mind still buzzing with the weight of everything he’d just learned. The reality of Felix’s condition hung over him like a storm cloud, dark and suffocating.

When they reached the others, every pair of eyes turned to Chan, full of fear and desperate hope.

“What… what did the doctor say?” Seungmin asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Chan took a deep breath, his chest tight with the emotion he was trying so hard to hold in. “Felix… Felix is in bad shape,” he said, his voice trembling. “He’s malnourished, injured… and he’s pregnant.”

The room fell silent, shock rippling through most of them like a tidal wave. Hyunjin’s face went pale, and he had to turn away, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he struggled to keep it together.

Before anyone could react further, a nurse appeared down the hall, rushing toward them with wide eyes. “We need the doctor back in Felix’s room—now!”

Chan’s heart lurched, panic gripping his chest as he watched the nurse rush down the hall. His mind spun, the weight of everything pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. Felix was in danger again—every second felt like it could be the last. The nurse’s frantic steps echoed in his mind, and all he could think about was how helpless he felt. He wanted to do something, to be there with Felix, but every word from the doctor, every restriction, told him to wait, to stay back.

The doctor shot Chan a grim look before following the nurse in hurried steps. Chan stood frozen, watching them disappear through the doors that led to Felix’s room, the hollow feeling in his chest growing heavier.

“Chan?” Jeongin’s voice cut through the tense silence, soft but trembling. “What’s happening? Is Felix…?”

Chan’s throat tightened as he turned to face his mates, their wide eyes reflecting the same fear, the same confusion. Hyunjin was pacing nearby, his hands shaking, eyes red as if he was holding back tears. Seungmin looked pale, his lips pressed together in a thin line, and Changbin stood beside them, his arms crossed defensively, muscles tense.

“I don’t know…” Chan finally whispered, running a hand through his hair. “The nurse didn’t say anything specific.”

“Did something go wrong?” Seungmin asked, stepping closer, his voice fragile like he was afraid to hear the answer.

Chan swallowed hard, wishing he had something better to offer, some kind of reassurance. But he was just as lost, just as scared. “The doctor said Felix was stable… but…”

The “but” hung in the air like a storm cloud. No one could finish the thought, the idea of something happening to Felix too unbearable to voice.

“I can’t do this,” Hyunjin suddenly muttered, his voice sharp with pain. “I need to see him, I can’t just—” He cut himself off, his hand trembling as he shoved it through his hair. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if I’m not in there with him.”

Changbin moved closer, putting a steadying hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder, but Hyunjin shrugged it off, too restless, too overwhelmed to stand still. “It’s not right,” he said, his voice cracking. “We should be in there, with him.”

Chan couldn’t agree more. His instincts screamed at him to tear down every barrier between him and Felix, to be by his side, but there was nothing they could do but wait. The hospital had its rules, and Felix wasn’t in a state where they could make exceptions easily. That reality was suffocating, each minute stretching into an eternity.

“We have to trust the doctors,” Chan finally said, though the words felt weak, like they weren’t even meant for him. “They know what they’re doing.”

Hyunjin let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? And what if they don’t? What if they’re wrong?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Jeongin said quietly. “But we can be here. When Felix is ready, we’ll be here.”

Chan hated feeling so powerless, hated the thought of Felix fighting alone in that room. All he wanted was to hold him, to tell him everything would be okay, even if it felt like a lie right now.

Time passed in excruciating silence. No one dared to speak, no one could. The tension was thick, the only sound the occasional rustle of footsteps as nurses moved up and down the hall, attending to other patients, oblivious to the heartbreak gripping the small group of mates outside room 325.

And then the doors opened.

The doctor emerged, his expression serious but not panicked, which gave Chan a flicker of hope. He approached them with steady steps, and all eyes locked onto him, waiting for the news that could either shatter them or hold them together.

“Felix is stable again,” the doctor said, his voice measured, as if he knew how fragile they all were. “The nurse noticed his vitals spiking, but we’ve managed to calm him down. He’s sedated now.”

“Sedated?” Hyunjin nearly shouted, taking a step forward. “Why—why can’t he just—?”

“We had to,” the doctor explained, his tone patient but firm. “His omega instincts are too strong right now. His body still believes he’s in immediate danger, and without sedation, he could hurt himself more. Earlier, he attacked one of the nurses, thinking she was a threat. This is the safest way to ensure his recovery for the moment.”

Chan felt the breath leave his body in a shaky exhale. Felix was safe—for now—but hearing that his omega was struggling to the point of sedation broke something in him. He pictured Felix, wild and afraid, trapped in his own mind, thinking he was still with those monsters. Chan clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as a way to ground himself.

“I know it’s hard to hear,” the doctor said, his voice gentler now. “But right now, Felix needs rest. His body is exhausted. We’ll continue to monitor him closely, and you’ll be the first to know when he’s more stable.”

Hyunjin turned away, unable to listen any longer, his shoulders shaking. Jeongin reached out to him, whispering something soothing, but Chan couldn’t hear it. All he could focus on was the image of Felix, alone in that room, sedated and lost in the darkness of his mind.

Chan swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to ask the one question that had been eating at him since he spoke with the doctor earlier. “And the pregnancy…?” His voice was barely a whisper, like the words themselves were too fragile to handle.

The doctor’s expression tightened, and he shook his head slightly. “We’re still monitoring that as well. It’s complicated… and the risk is high.”

Chan felt his chest constrict again. The weight of it all—the pregnancy, Felix’s condition, the uncertainty—was too much. His mind reeled, but there was no space to process, no time to think clearly.

Before he could respond, the doctor’s pager went off. He glanced at it, his expression turning serious again.

“I have to go,” the doctor said, his voice apologetic. “I’ll keep you updated.”

Without another word, he hurried off, leaving Chan and the others to drown in the suffocating silence once more.

Chan turned to his mates, his throat raw, eyes burning with unshed tears. He wanted to be strong, to hold it together for them, but right now, he felt as fragile as glass. One wrong word, one more piece of bad news, and he’d shatter.

“What now?” Seungmin asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chan swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “We wait.”

The words felt hollow, even to Chan. Wait. That was all they had been doing—waiting for news, waiting for Felix, waiting for some sliver of hope to hold on to. But as the minutes stretched into hours, waiting felt more like a punishment than a solution.

Hyunjin suddenly let out a shaky breath, his eyes red with barely restrained tears as he turned away from the group. His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, frustration radiating from every inch of him.

“I can’t just wait anymore,” he muttered, his voice raw with emotion. “I should be in there with him. He’s my mate. Why can’t I—why can’t we—be with him?”

Jeongin stepped closer, placing a tentative hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder, trying to steady him. “We’ll be with him soon. We just need to give it a little more time. Felix needs to rest.”

Hyunjin clenched his fists, shaking his head as if he couldn’t bear to hear it. “Time… rest… what if it’s not enough? What if he needs us ?”

Jeongin glanced at Chan, silently asking for help. But Chan could only nod weakly, because Hyunjin wasn’t wrong. Felix did need them. And the thought of him lying in that hospital bed, sedated and fighting for his life, tore Chan apart inside.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, and he turned away again, not able to meet anyone’s eyes. Chan saw the tears welling up, the way Hyunjin’s shoulders shook as he tried to keep it together. It hurt to watch, to feel how helpless they all were, to know that no matter how much they loved Felix, there was only so much they could do right now.

Before he could dwell on the hopelessness pressing in around him, a nurse appeared at the end of the hall. She approached with hesitant steps, and everyone turned to face her.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Are any of you here for Jisung?”

Seungmin stepped forward, his brows furrowing. “I was hoping to check on him. Is that possible?”

The nurse glanced nervously at the group of alphas and Seungmin, her gaze lingering on Chan for a moment before she responded. “It should be fine, but I have to warn you… Jisung is still very shaken. No alphas are allowed in the room right now, but if you’d like to visit, you may—so long as he’s comfortable with it.”

Seungmin nodded, his heart aching at the thought of the scared omega. “I’ll go. Just me.”

The nurse gave a small nod before leading Seungmin to the room a few doors down. The rest of the group watched in silence, knowing there was little they could do.

Chan leaned against the wall, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him again. He thought about Felix, about the decision the doctor had left him with, and his stomach twisted with dread.

Terminate the pregnancy, or let Felix die and the pup survive, the doctor had said. How could he even think about making that decision without Felix awake and knowing? But the risk of losing Felix completely…

Chan’s head throbbed with the endless possibilities, each one darker than the last. He felt the tears he’d been holding back start to burn at the corners of his eyes.

Hyunjin’s voice cut through the silence, low and broken. “What are we supposed to do, Chan? What if we lose him?”

Chan didn’t have an answer. For the first time, the leader who always had a plan, always knew what to do, felt utterly lost.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I don’t know.”

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Chapter Text

Darkness crept up him, smothering him like a heavy, suffocating blanket. It was all around him—above him, beneath him, beside him—its presence unavoidable, as if it were an extension of his own mind. The cold, hazy floor beneath him provided no comfort as he huddled there, his knees pulled tightly to his chest. His small frame trembled as he whimpered, trying to block out the sounds that seemed to echo from every corner of the void.

Voices taunted him, their cruel laughter bouncing around in his head, spiraling through his thoughts until he could hardly distinguish them from his own self-loathing. His body convulsed in response, jerking uncontrollably, and the familiar sense of helplessness began to creep over him once again.

“Such a small omega, we can see every bone in that body of yours,” one voice sneered, dripping with disdain.

He could feel it then—the fingers that dug into his ribs, into the sensitive skin of his back. The touch was so vivid, so painfully real, that it forced a sharp hiss from his lips. Yet when he opened his eyes, there was no one. No one at all. Still, he could feel the invisible hands probing him, cutting through his flesh with every taunt.

“Stop,” Jisung pleaded, his voice a pitiful, shaking whisper. His body jerked with another sob, the fear strangling his breath. “Please…”

But his plea only seemed to amuse them. The laughter intensified, growing louder, deafening him. It was as though his words had given them more power, fueling their torment.

More fingers. More hands. They roamed over his body, pinching and twisting, causing sharp stabs of pain that made him flinch and cry out. He could feel blood—warm, thick—running down his sides, though when he looked down, his skin was unmarked. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

“You’re a bad omega,” a voice whispered close to his ear, the breath hot against his skin, making every hair stand on end. “Maybe we need to teach you how to be good.”

Jisung could feel the heat of that breath on his neck, the cruel chuckle that followed sending a chill down his spine. But when he looked around, there was no one. No one but him, trapped in this endless nightmare. His body convulsed, his hands covering his ears as if he could block out the voices that seemed to grow louder with every passing second.

His body was failing him, weakening beneath the onslaught of taunts, but his mind—his mind was breaking. He was spiraling, lost in the cruel game the shadows played. Would it ever stop? Could it ever stop?

“Jisung? Sweetie, it’s okay.”

A different voice. Softer. Warmer. It didn’t match the taunting ones.

Then there were hands again, but these hands were different—gentle, not cruel. They weren’t pinching or twisting or cutting. They were guiding him, pulling him out of the darkness and into something softer. The cold haze that had surrounded him faded, replaced by warmth, and when he finally blinked open his eyes, the nightmare receded into the corners of his mind.

He was no longer trapped in the cage of his mind.

He was in a bed.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest as his vision cleared, the bright lights above stinging his eyes. A nurse stood by his side, her frown soft with concern. Her presence was real—he knew this, though his body hadn’t caught up to the shift from nightmare to reality. He was still shaking, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts, his skin cold and clammy.

“Jisung, you’re okay,” the nurse soothed, her hand gentle as it brushed a strand of his damp hair from his forehead. She was real. “You were just having a nightmare.”

A nightmare. That’s what it was. Just a nightmare. He tried to tell himself that, but the echoes of the voices still rattled around in his skull, refusing to let go.

He struggled to speak, his throat raw and tight from the sobs that had wracked his body, but no words came. Only a strangled, broken sound that caught in his throat.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” the nurse murmured, her tone calming as she checked his vitals. The soft beeping of the heart monitor matched the rhythm of his racing heart. She adjusted the blankets around him, tucking them in snugly, and he felt a rush of comfort from the simple gesture. “You were really brave,” she repeated, her voice a balm against the chaos in his mind. “Just focus on your breathing.”

Taking a deep breath, Jisung began to feel a sense of calm seep into the edges of his panic. He concentrated on inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth, each breath gradually dispelling the echoes of his nightmare. The nurse stayed close, her warm hand resting on his arm, steady and reassuring. “I know things are overwhelming right now, but you’re not alone,” she continued, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of his emotions.

As he took another deep breath, the nurse continued to speak softly, distracting him. “I’ll be right here if you need anything,” she said, glancing at the IV drip beside him. “And if you’re feeling better, we can try to get you up and moving a little later. How does that sound?”

Jisung nodded slightly, the movement small and hesitant. The nurse smiled at him, her expression warm and encouraging before she began to gather her things. “One of Felix’s mates wanted to see you,” she added gently. “If you need anything, remember to press that button on the remote next to you, okay? I’ll drop everything I’m doing to come to you.”

With that, she left the room, the door closing softly behind her. The absence of her warmth made the room feel colder, and Jisung’s heart raced anew. The memories of his nightmare clung to him stubbornly, but he forced himself to focus on the present. He was safe; he had to remind himself of that.

As he lay there, taking slow breaths, he noticed someone leaning against the wall next to the door. The figure was an omega man with reddened eyes, as if he had just finished crying. Jisung instinctively wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, his heart racing again as he studied the omega. He didn’t know if he could trust this stranger, even though the man seemed to radiate an aura of sadness rather than malice.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you,” the omega started softly, his voice gentle. “My name is Seungmin. I’m one of Felix’s mates.” There was a heaviness in his words, a vulnerability that struck a chord within Jisung.

Jisung continued to watch him closely. The omega didn’t wear the same dark, malevolent smile that the alphas always had, nor did he have the evil glint in his eyes. Instead, Seungmin stood there, shoulders sagging, with tired eyes that spoke of worry and sorrow.

“Is it okay if I sit down?” Seungmin asked, his voice cautious but hopeful. Jisung scanned the omega’s face for any signs that he might attack, but there was only a sad smile waiting patiently for an answer.

Slowly, Jisung nodded. The omega’s smile grew slightly wider as he walked to the furthest chair away from Jisung. Gratitude washed over him; at least this omega understood the need for space. If Seungmin intended to harm him, Jisung felt he might have a moment to react.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors. Jisung lay there, trying to calm his racing thoughts, still trembling. The edges of his fear were not yet dulled. Yet, Seungmin’s quiet presence across from him felt oddly comforting despite the lingering distrust.

Seungmin seemed content to wait, not forcing conversation, just being there. After a long moment, he shifted in his seat, breaking the silence. “Have the nurses told you about Felix’s request?” he asked, his tone casual, but Jisung could sense something deeper lurking beneath his words—an undercurrent of hope.

Jisung blinked in surprise, shaking his head.

Seungmin hesitated, his eyes softening as he replied, “Felix… he doesn’t want to see any of us. Not yet.” He paused, giving Jisung a meaningful look. “But he asked to see you.”

The words struck Jisung like a wave crashing against the shore. Felix wanted to see him? After everything they’d endured, everything they had suffered, he wanted Jisung by his side? The warmth that spread through his chest was foreign but comforting. He hadn’t expected to be the one Felix reached out for.

Jisung’s throat tightened, and he struggled to find his voice. The weight of Seungmin’s words settled over him, heavy yet illuminating. He wanted to respond, to express his longing to see Felix too, but the words faltered on his lips, trapped in a web of emotions.

Seungmin seemed to notice the shift in Jisung’s demeanor. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “It makes sense, you know. You were there with him. You kept each other alive.”

The truth in those words sent a shiver down Jisung’s spine. They had endured so much together, clinging to each other for comfort in their darkest moments.

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, his tone lightening, “Look, I know this is overwhelming. But… if you need someone to talk to, or if it gets too lonely, I can visit. At least until you’re well enough to see Felix.” He added, his voice softening even more, “You don’t have to be alone.”

Jisung swallowed hard, emotions welling up within him like a dam about to burst. The offer was simple, but it felt monumental in its kindness. The thought of someone willingly sharing their time with him felt foreign, yet comforting. For nearly a year, he had been stripped away of any sense of companionship, leaving him isolated in a world that had been filled with darkness and fear.

When Jisung didn’t respond immediately, Seungmin’s playful smirk returned, easing the heaviness in the room. “Besides, I’m good company. Annoying, yes, but Felix has put up with me for years, so I can’t be that bad.”

A flicker of amusement danced across Jisung’s lips, the first hint of lightness he’d felt in what seemed like ages. Seungmin’s humor, a small breath of normalcy amidst the chaos of his thoughts, helped quell the rising tide of anxiety.

Just then, a sharp knock on the door made both of them look up. Another nurse entered, her presence radiating warmth that filled the room like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky. She smiled brightly at Jisung, her demeanor soothing. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling? I see you’ve been eating a bit, and look at that—brushed your hair too. You’re doing great.”

Jisung felt a blush creeping up his cheeks, the nurse’s genuine praise making his heart swell with an unfamiliar sense of pride. The small victories felt monumental, and he found comfort in her words. They reminded him that he was moving forward, inch by inch, from the darkness that had engulfed him for far too long.

“I brought some fliers for the omega sanctuaries we talked about,” she said, holding up a small stack of colorful papers. “Whenever you feel up to it, you can take a look, okay? No rush. We just want to make sure you’re comfortable and have a place you can feel safe once you’re ready to leave here.”

Jisung nodded, his movements tentative but sincere, absorbing the nurse’s kindness like a thirsty plant drinking in the rain.

“And hopefully soon, we can get you and Felix moved into the same room,” the nurse continued, her smile widening as she saw the flicker of excitement in Jisung’s eyes. “I think it’ll help both of you feel more at ease.”

The thought of being near Felix again made Jisung’s heart race with anticipation. He yearned to see him. Maybe being in the same room would make the reality of their situation feel less daunting like they had both survived and could finally breathe.

Once the nurse left, Seungmin shifted in his chair, his expression turning thoughtful. “Do you have any mates, Jisung?” he asked gently, as though testing the waters. There was no pressure in his tone, just a genuine curiosity.

Jisung’s heart sank, and he shook his head slowly, his throat tightening as old wounds reopened. He frowned, his gaze dropping to his hands, which lay clenched in his lap.

Seungmin seemed to sense the shift in Jisung’s mood and softened his approach. “It’s okay, not everyone has mates. And… if you want, I can keep bugging you until you get sick of me.”

Jisung glanced up at him, his raw throat making it difficult to respond, but the sincerity in Seungmin’s voice cut through his barriers. There was something reassuring about Seungmin’s presence, a promise of understanding that made Jisung feel less alone. He nodded slightly, not trusting himself to speak.

Seungmin’s half-smile was infectious, his lightheartedness a balm for Jisung’s battered spirit. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression brightening. “Do you like snacks? I can bring you some next time. Or more leftovers from the hotel—if we ever get Minho to cook.”

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of food, and he nodded shyly, the mere thought of something tasty stirring a sense of want in him.

Seungmin’s smirk grew into a full grin. “You do, huh? Good choice. I’ll make him cook tonight and bring some over. He might complain, but trust me, he’ll do it.”

Jisung didn’t fully believe Seungmin, but there was a part of him that wanted to. Maybe, just maybe, this was real, and he was not as alone as he had feared.

As the evening darkened outside the window, Seungmin glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late,” he said, rising from his chair with a reluctant sigh. “I should head out, but I’ll be back tomorrow, with food.”

Jisung watched as Seungmin moved toward the door, a bittersweet sensation washing over him as the warmth in the room seemed to dim with his departure. Before stepping out, Seungmin turned to look at him one last time, his eyes full of promise. “You’re going to be okay, Jisung. I’m going to make sure of that.”

And with that, Seungmin left, leaving Jisung alone again. Yet this time, the room felt different. Instead of suffocating, it held a lingering warmth, a sense of hope that had not existed before. For the first time in a long while, Jisung didn’t feel entirely alone.

Chapter Text

Jisung leaned against the small sink in the hospital bathroom, his hand gripping the cold porcelain as he dragged his IV drip with him. He looked at his reflection, but he couldn’t bring himself to really see it. The person staring back felt unfamiliar—a pale, exhausted face with shadows under his eyes, cheeks a little hollow. The fluorescent lights overhead made him look even worse, and he swallowed hard, feeling that growing sense of dread creeping up again. His skin seemed too tight, like he didn’t quite fit in it anymore.

Reaching up, he carefully tugged a brush through his hair, wincing when it snagged on tangles. His hair had become a mess; he hadn’t had the energy to keep it neat, and now it was just another reminder of how different he was from who he used to be. He looked down, avoiding his own gaze, and focused on each small stroke of the brush instead.

When he finished, Jisung’s hand moved instinctively to his mouth. He wanted to brush his teeth so badly—just the idea of a fresh, clean taste felt like a distant luxury. But there was no toothbrush here, no toothpaste, just a hollow ache of wanting to feel normal again, even if only for a moment.

Then, his eyes lifted, and for a split second, he thought he saw a shadow behind him in the mirror—large, looming. His heart skipped, and a cold sweat broke out on his skin. He could feel his pulse hammering, his breath catching in his throat. He froze, staring wide-eyed at his reflection, and his mind raced, convinced that any second he would see one of those alphas standing right behind him, ready to grab him.

He couldn’t move. His chest felt tight, the air thin and suffocating. His vision blurred as he struggled to catch his breath, but it felt like he was drowning, caught in that endless loop of terror and helplessness. His hands started to shake, the grip on the sink loosening as he fought to stay upright.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled Jisung from his spiral, though it took a moment for his mind to catch up. His breathing was shallow, still ragged, but the sight of the nurse stepping in was grounding. She spotted him instantly, her expression softening with concern as she walked over.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured gently, reaching a hand out to guide him. “Let’s get you sitting down.”

Her voice was calm, soothing, and it pulled him back from the brink just enough to feel the cool air against his flushed skin. She led him to a small bench near the bathroom wall, helping him ease down until his legs stopped trembling. Her presence was steady and reassuring, like an anchor, and he clung to it as he tried to slow his breathing.

She knelt beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “Are you alright, honey?” she asked softly.

Jisung managed a nod, though he knew she could see through it. His eyes darted away, not wanting her to see the lingering fear or the vulnerability he felt. He didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want her to worry or pity him, yet he couldn’t shake the fear still clawing at him.

After a few moments of silence, she gave him a small smile and tilted her head. “Would you like to go for a little walk? Get some fresh air in the indoor garden downstairs? It’s quiet this time of day.”

Jisung hesitated, but the idea of leaving his room, even just to be in a different environment, seemed… nice. He nodded, his movements small and careful.

The nurse’s smile grew warmer as she helped him to his feet, adjusting his IV stand so he could maneuver it more easily. “Good,” she said softly. “Let’s take it slow. There’s no rush.”

As they walked out of his room, the  hallway felt both comforting and intimidating. Jisung’s eyes darted to each passing door, his senses on high alert, but the nurse’s presence beside him kept him grounded.

Voices drifted down the hall. Jisung tensed slightly, but he saw them before they saw him—three alphas he didn’t recognize. They were seated in front of a room, two of them talking quietly while the third dozed in his chair, looking utterly exhausted.

The alpha who was awake and alert looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to warmth. He stood slowly, raising a hand in a casual greeting. “Hey there,” he said gently, his voice light. He seemed aware of Jisung’s nervousness and kept a safe distance. “I’m Jeongin. Seungmin asked me to bring you a little something.”

Jeongin held out a small container of food and another bag. His smile was friendly, without any pressure, but Jisung’s eyes flickered between him and the items warily.

Jeongin’s hand hovered mid-air for a second, sensing Jisung’s hesitation. Slowly, he lowered the container and bag onto a small table in the hallway, taking a careful step back to give Jisung space. His expression remained soft, unthreatening, his eyes kind and gentle.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Jeongin continued, his voice quieter this time, like he was sharing a secret. “I know you don’t know me, but Seungmin mentioned you might appreciate some food… and maybe a few other things to make you feel more comfortable.” He hesitated, glancing down at the items. “So I thought I’d pick up a few things while shopping for Felix. No pressure to keep any of it. Just… thought it might help.”

Jisung’s gaze flickered over to the other alphas. One was seated a bit further away, slumped against his chair with bloodshot eyes, his expression one of pure exhaustion. His hands trembled ever so slightly, his fingers curled tightly around a cup of coffee that looked untouched. Even from where he stood, Jisung could see the dark circles under the man’s eyes, the kind of exhaustion that only came from sleepless nights.

The other alpha appeared to be asleep, head resting back against the wall, his face soft and unguarded in sleep. Seeing them like this—their guard down, vulnerable—struck a strange chord within Jisung. He swallowed, the knot in his throat easing just slightly.

Jeongin noticed his gaze and gave a small, understanding nod, as though he’d picked up on Jisung’s unease. “We’re all here for Felix,” he explained gently. “We’ve all been… really worried about him.”

The  nurse’s face softened as she looked between them. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she murmured, taking the bag and container from the table. “We’ll leave these in Jisung’s room for when he gets back.”

Jisung gave Jeongin a small, uncertain nod in acknowledgment, but before he could process what had just happened, the nurse began guiding him down the hallway once more.

The walk to the elevator felt surreal, and his heart pounded with every step. But as they entered and the nurse pressed the button for the ground floor, Jisung’s focus shifted to the thought of the indoor garden. It was quiet during their descent, a calming contrast to his racing mind.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a bright, sterile hallway lined with signs guiding visitors and patients to different areas of the hospital. Jisung hesitated for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the light, and the nurse gently encouraged him forward, staying close by his side.

“Just a short walk,” she murmured, her voice steady and reassuring. “The garden is right down here.”

Jisung nodded, clutching the IV pole with one hand while the other hovered near the wall for balance. Each step felt hesitant, his gaze darting from one side of the hallway to the other. Every sound seemed amplified — the soft beeping of machines from nearby rooms, hushed conversations between nurses, and the distant clattering of a meal cart. Despite the seemingly ordinary sounds, they still stirred a lingering anxiety that made his heart race.

The nurse continued walking beside him at an easy pace, glancing over occasionally to check on him. Soon, a faint scent of earth began to filter through the sterile smell of the hospital. The hallway opened into a glass-walled room, filled with lush, vibrant plants and blooming flowers, casting soft shadows on the floor. Sunlight poured in from the skylights above, warming the space and creating a peaceful, almost surreal, atmosphere.

“There we are,” the nurse said with a gentle smile, gesturing for him to step inside. “Take your time, Jisung.”

Jisung hesitated on the threshold, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. The garden was beautiful, alive with colors and scents that reminded him of simpler, warmer days. Slowly, he stepped forward, feeling the gentle, earthy atmosphere surround him, pulling him into a calm he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jisung moved deeper into the garden, his fingers brushing the leaves of a nearby fern as if to convince himself it was real. The air felt fresher here, carrying the faint fragrance of flowers, soil, and damp leaves — a welcome change to the sanitized scent of the hospital. His mind drifted back to his childhood, to warm afternoons spent in his grandmother’s garden, where he used to chase butterflies and listen to her humming as she tended to the plants. The memory softened something in his chest, and for a moment, he could almost feel her presence with him.

The nurse stayed a few steps behind, giving him space but keeping an eye on him in case he needed support. Jisung continued wandering through the room, captivated by the different plants and flowers. A soft smile ghosted his lips as he crouched down, observing a cluster of vibrant lilies that stood out in shades of yellow and orange. His fingers traced the petal’s edge, and he marveled at how something so delicate could be so resilient, thriving even within hospital walls.

Not far from him, a small fountain trickled, the water flowing gently over polished stones. The sound was soothing, filling the silence and easing the tightness in his chest. As he watched the water, his shoulders gradually relaxed, and he released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

After a while, Jisung straightened, glancing back at the nurse, who gave him a gentle nod of encouragement to keep exploring. He took slow steps around the room, letting his gaze wander over the plants and flowers arranged with careful attention to color and shape. The path curved along a low wall lined with potted succulents and bright flowers in hanging baskets, adding splashes of color overhead.

Everywhere he looked, there was something new to take in — ivy curling around wooden trellises, small cacti tucked into the corners, and even a patch of wildflowers that seemed as out of place as they were beautiful. A single butterfly fluttered between blooms, and he followed it with his eyes until it disappeared into the greenery. His heart ached at how long it had been since he’d felt anything close to this peace.

The nurse walked a few steps behind him, her presence steady and comforting, but she let him move at his own pace. As he wandered, he found himself drawn to a small wooden bench nestled between tall ferns and a flowering bush. He sat down, feeling the cool, solid wood beneath him, and took a slow, deep breath.

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the gentle rustling of leaves and the faint scent of blooming flowers to wash over him.

The nurse quietly approached, settling on the edge of the bench beside him. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “We try to bring a bit of nature indoors to help our patients heal. Being around plants can really uplift your mood.”

Jisung nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face as he opened his eyes to take in the vibrant colors around him again. “It reminds me of my grandma,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “She had the most beautiful garden. I used to help her water the flowers.” He paused, a mixture of warmth and sadness pooling in his chest. “I miss it.”

The nurse regarded him thoughtfully, her expression understanding. “It’s perfectly normal to miss the people and places that bring you comfort, especially during tough times. But you can create new memories, too.” She gestured to the garden. “Maybe you can find a favorite plant or flower to come back to.”

Jisung considered this, looking at the variety of colors and shapes surrounding him. “Maybe the butterfly,” he suggested quiet pointing to the small creature that had returned, flitting from bloom to bloom with delicate grace. “It looks free.”

The nurse smiled at his choice. “Butterflies are beautiful symbols of transformation. They remind us that change can lead to something wonderful.” She paused, her gaze drifting toward the garden’s entrance. “Would you like to take a walk around the perimeter? There are some lovely roses at the far end, and I think you’d enjoy the scent.”

Jisung nodded, eager to keep exploring. He stood up from the bench, feeling lighter somehow, and started walking again. The nurse walked alongside him, occasionally pointing out interesting plants and sharing tidbits about their care and characteristics.

As they approached the rose section, the sweet, heady scent enveloped him, and he felt his spirits lift even higher. There were clusters of deep reds, soft pinks, and bright yellows, all blooming beautifully. Jisung leaned in closer, inhaling the floral fragrance deeply, his heart swelling with nostalgia. “They smell just like the ones my grandma used to grow,” he whispered, a hint of laughter in his voice. “She always said they were the most forgiving plants.”

“Forgiving?” The nurse raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yeah,” Jisung explained, his voice warming as he reminisced. “She said if you forgot to water them, they would droop and look sad, but with just a little care, they would bounce back, all bright and beautiful.”

“That’s a lovely perspective,” the nurse replied, her tone sincere. “And it sounds like your grandma had a kind heart. You’re carrying that kindness with you, too.”

Jisung felt a wave of warmth at her words. It was nice to hear something positive about himself, especially at a time when he felt so small and lost. He turned to look at her, gratitude shimmering in his eyes. “Thank you.”

The nurse smiled warmly back at him. “Its no problem. Now, let’s head back to your room for a bit. I’ll check on you and then we can see about dinner, okay?”

The nurse gently guided Jisung back to his room, her reassuring presence a comfort against the remnants of anxiety that clung to him. The soft click of the door closing behind them echoed in the small space, a reminder that for now, he was safe. She placed the container of food on the bedside table, her smile warm as she promised, “I’ll be back after dinner to check on you, okay? Try to eat something.”

Jisung nodded, still feeling the weight of uncertainty on his shoulders. As she stepped out of the room, he picked up the container Jeongin had given him, his stomach growling softly in anticipation. The leftovers were cold but looked surprisingly appetizing. He lifted the lid, revealing a mound of rice, some stir-fried vegetables, and a few pieces of chicken. The scent wafted up to him, and he couldn’t help but smile. It smelled delicious, and despite the chill, his appetite sparked at the sight.

Settling himself at the edge of the bed, Jisung adjusted his IV drip to avoid any tugs that might cause discomfort. The warmth of the bed beneath him felt inviting, yet the anxiety from earlier still simmered in his chest. He took a bite of the food, and a wave of warmth flooded through him. The flavors were comforting, filling him with a sense of normalcy that felt elusive. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until the tastes hit his tongue, and he savored every bite, his worries momentarily forgotten.

Once he finished, he turned his attention to the bag Jeongin had given him. Curiosity piqued, he opened it and gasped slightly at what he found inside. The first item that caught his eye was a plush chipmunk, its tiny beady eyes staring back at him. It was adorably cute, with soft brown fur and a little pink nose. Jisung couldn’t help but smile as he picked it up, cradling it in his arms. It reminded him of the ones he used to collect as a child, and without thinking twice, he placed it gently on his bed, a sense of warmth filling his chest.

He dug deeper into the bag, uncovering body wash and shampoo, both strawberry-scented. There was also a small bottle of vanilla lotion that smelled heavenly.

His heart swelled slightly as he pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste. These were small luxuries he had taken for granted before. As he continued to explore the contents, he found an assortment of snacks—granola bars, fruit cups, and even a small bag of gummy bears.

Jisung’s brow furrowed in confusion as he laid everything out on the bed. Why would Jeongin go out of his way to gather all this for him? He didn’t deserve it. They were practically strangers, yet the alpha had treated him with such kindness. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he considered the implications of such generosity.

He set the items aside by the door, just in case Jeongin wanted them back. However, he kept the plush chipmunk close, laying back on the bed with it nestled against his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the warmth of the plush toy to soothe his frayed nerves.

As he settled into the bed, he found his thoughts drifting. The quiet of the room enveloped him, and he was thankful for a moment of peace. But soon, the peace was broken by the arrival of a woman pushing a tray in front of her. She set it down on his bedside table without a word before leaving, the smell of the food wafting towards him. Jisung glanced over, noting the unappetizing meal of overcooked vegetables and bland meat. It didn’t look appealing at all, and the thought of eating it made his stomach churn.

About ten minutes later, the nurse re-entered the room, her smile bright as she checked on him. “How are you doing, Jisung?” she asked, her tone cheerful and melodic.

“I’m okay,” he replied softly.

“That’s good to hear! I wanted to let you know that we have a room prepared for you and Felix,” she said, excitement bubbling in her voice. “Felix has already moved in. Are you ready to move in with him?”

The prospect of being with Felix filled Jisung with a flutter of joy. His heart raced, the weight of uncertainty lifting slightly. “Yes,” he replied, his voice a whisper but full of eagerness.

Chapter Text

The lights above him flickered harshly, casting a cold, unforgiving glare down the narrow, blood-splattered hallway. Felix stumbled forward, his body barely able to hold itself upright, his legs trembling with every step. His entire form was weighed down by exhaustion and pain, yet he cradled his pup tightly against his chest, his arms wrapped around the tiny, unmoving body with desperate protectiveness.

The silence was suffocating, and the faint echoes of his own shuffling footsteps haunted him as he moved. Blood—thick and sticky—dripped from his fingertips, staining his hospital gown. His own blood pooled and mingled with older, darker stains on the cold floor beneath him, leaving a crimson trail in his wake.

Despite the chilling scene around him, Felix held onto a fragile, warped sense of hope. He could see people in the distance, shadowy figures standing together at the end of the hallway. A faint smile tugged at his lips; maybe they’d compliment him on his pup. His precious little one was so beautiful, so innocent. They had to see that, didn’t they?

As he approached, Felix glanced down at the small form in his arms. His heart ached at the sight—his pup was underdeveloped, fragile, but to him, it was perfect. With just a little more time, Felix was sure his pup would be strong, healthy, just like the others. He tenderly brushed a lock of soft hair from the pup’s face, his fingers shaking as he did.

But as he got closer, he could hear soft, echoing cries from the figures ahead. A chill crept down his spine, but he pushed it aside, clutching his pup a little tighter, shielding it as if to protect it from whatever sorrow the others bore.

When he reached them, the figures turned, and Felix froze. Their faces were blurry, yet he could see their sorrow, etched deeply even through the fog. Seven of them stood before him, expressions twisted with pain.

One figure stepped forward, its voice trembling with accusation. “You killed our pup!” The words were like a knife, slicing through the cold silence and echoing down the endless corridor.

Felix’s chest tightened. He shook his head slowly, disbelief etched on his face. “No,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “The pup’s not dead… look.” His eyes drifted back down to the small, still form in his arms, and he cooed softly, as if to soothe both his pup and himself. “See? It’s… it’s here. It’s alive.”

Another voice, harsher this time, broke through his denial. “You forced the pup to come out. Look at your stomach!”

Felix’s heart pounded as he looked down at his own body, a sinking dread filling him as he saw the blood-stained hospital gown clinging to him. But no… he hadn’t done this to himself. The doctors… they had delivered the pup. He hadn’t—

His laughter broke the tense silence, a hollow sound that echoed strangely in the cold air. He bounced the silent pup in his arms, forcing a smile, trying to reassure himself as much as them. “No, you must be mistaken. You’re talking about another omega,” he said softly, inching forward, trying to move past them.

But another figure stepped into his path, blocking him from moving any further. “Felix, the pup is bleeding,” it said, pointing down at the small bundle in Felix’s arms.

Felix looked down, and his heart froze in his chest. Blood—dark and ominous—was dripping from his pup’s mouth, staining the tiny lips and chin, trailing down his own hands.

No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His pup wasn’t supposed to bleed.

Panic seized him, and he quickened his pace, his bare feet hitting the floor in an uneven rhythm as he tried to escape, desperate to find safety, to get his pup somewhere clean. The blurry figures trailed behind him, their anguished cries growing louder, their accusations clawing at his mind, suffocating him.

“Your pup is dead!” they screamed, the words pounding in his skull. Felix broke into a run, clutching his pup to his chest as his heart beat frantically.

No. No. No.

His pup wasn’t dead. It was just sick. All pups got sick sometimes; it would be fine. He hadn’t killed anyone—he wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t cruel.

But the voices grew louder, the haunting accusations filling the empty hallway. “You killed your doctors and your baby!”

“No. No. No!” Felix whispered, his voice shaking, desperation rising in his throat as he spotted a light at the end of the hallway. He tried to run faster, to escape the shadows closing in on him, but strong hands suddenly grabbed him from behind, yanking him back and sending him crashing to the floor.

In his fall, his grip loosened, and his pup slipped from his grasp, landing on the cold, blood-stained floor.

“No!” Felix gasped, scrambling to reach the tiny form, his hands shaking as he scooped the pup up, holding it close, his body wracked with sobs. He clutched the lifeless form to his chest, his tears mixing with the blood staining his hands.

The figures gathered around him, voices overlapping, their cruel words piercing him like shards of glass.

“Felix Lee found dead in hospital room after trying to self-deliver his six-month pup.”

“Felix Lee dies after ignoring doctors’ orders.”

“Doctors found dead.”

“No…” Felix whispered, his body shaking as he clung to the cold, still form in his arms, trying to drown out the voices. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. He wasn’t evil. He just wanted to see his pup, to hold it, to prove that he could protect it. He hadn’t wanted this—any of this.

Felix jolted awake, his heart thudding violently in his chest as if it were trying to escape the nightmare that had just engulfed him. Panic clung to him like a shroud, the shadows of the dream still echoing in his mind. The lingering wails of sorrow and accusations rang in his ears, heavy with despair and guilt, pressing down on him until it felt as though he could barely breathe.

For a long moment, he lay motionless in the small hospital room, squinting under the harsh, sterile glow of the fluorescent lights above him. The steady beeping of monitors cut through his disorientation, grounding him slowly back to the present. His breaths came in short, shallow bursts, and it took him several seconds to remember where he was, to separate the haunting fragments of his nightmare from reality.

As he gathered his bearings, his hand instinctively moved beneath the blanket, trembling fingers pressing gently against his abdomen. His heart hammered, and he hesitated, as though fearing what he might discover. After months of doubt and terror, every muscle in his body was tense with worry. Was his pup still there? Had the nightmare reached into reality? Slowly, he let out a shaky breath when he felt the familiar firmness of his belly. The weight of his growing child reassured him, whispering the truth that his darkest fears couldn’t snatch away. His pup was still alive. He hadn’t lost it.

The relief was a wave that swept over him, loosening the grip of panic that had wound tightly around his chest. Just as he began to exhale, a soft voice floated in from the doorway, gently pulling him from the clutches of his waking nightmare.

“Felix?” The nurse’s voice was gentle, laced with a softness that cut through the tension lingering in the air. She entered the room slowly, her eyes filled with concern as she noted the anxiety etched on his face. Felix barely glanced at her, still grounding himself in the sensation of his hand on his stomach. He had to be sure—he had to be certain.

“My pup is still alive, right? Can you check?” His voice was quiet, hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but it carried the raw edge of desperation.

The nurse offered a sad smile, nodding as she stepped closer to his bed. “I’ll check in just a few minutes, okay?” Her voice was soft, her tone slow and deliberate as if speaking to a fragile child. Felix wanted to brush off the gentle caution, but he found himself too drained to argue.

She slipped on a fresh pair of gloves, her motions practiced and delicate as she began unwrapping the bandages around his arms. He winced slightly at the sight of the bruised, raw skin beneath the gauze, but he held still as she examined each wound, carefully applying a fresh layer of ointment. Her touch was firm, but there was a kindness to her gaze that helped him relax, if only a little.

Felix’s eyes never left her, watching her every move, his heart still hammering with residual fear. He noticed the way her gaze softened, the small, almost imperceptible furrow of her brows as she worked. She was careful, avoiding any unnecessary pain as she replaced his bandages with practiced ease.

Finally, the nurse reached for her stethoscope, looping it around her neck before positioning the cool metal gently against his chest. “Take a deep breath for me,” she instructed, her voice a soothing murmur.

He obeyed, drawing in a shaky breath, filling his lungs with the sterile air. She guided him through several breaths, moving the stethoscope across his chest as she listened to his heartbeat. With each steady breath, the residual panic faded slightly, replaced by a tentative calm.

After a moment, she lowered the stethoscope to his belly, placing it where she could listen to the faint, delicate rhythm of his pup’s heartbeat. She didn’t say anything right away, and Felix’s stomach twisted, the silence stretching taut around him until he was sure he couldn’t bear it any longer.

Then, finally, she looked up at him, her gaze warm and reassuring. “Your pup is alive,” she said softly. “Everything sounds as it should.”

Relief flooded Felix’s chest, the weight lifting in an instant as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His hands relaxed, fingers uncurling from where they’d dug into the blanket, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to savor the reassurance. His child was safe.

“Now,” the nurse continued, her voice comforting, “we’re going to move you to a larger room. You’ll be with Jisung—do you remember him?”

Felix’s eyes snapped open at the mention of Jisung’s name, and he nodded, the faintest hint of a smile ghosting over his lips. He didn’t need to be told twice. He wanted to see Jisung, to make sure the omega was safe.

The nurse moved quickly, using a small key to unlock the restraint around his ankle. The sudden freedom felt strange, almost unreal, as she came around to help him out of bed. Felix hesitated, his muscles weak from disuse, and he gripped the nurse’s arm tightly as he took his first few steps. His legs trembled beneath him, his body unsteady, but the nurse’s firm hold kept him upright, guiding him patiently until he found a rhythm, his confidence slowly returning.

Once he felt steady enough, Felix wrapped a shaky hand around the IV pole, pulling it along with him as they made their way out of the room. The hallway was a flurry of activity, nurses and patients moving in organized chaos, the bright lights and sterile smells an assault on his senses after so long in isolation.

Just as he was beginning to adjust to the noise and bustle, he froze, his gaze locking onto a group of familiar figures standing a short distance away. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized them instantly—Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. They turned almost simultaneously, their eyes landing on him, expressions shifting from surprise to a mixture of relief and heartbreak.

Time seemed to slow as they looked at each other, a silent tension stretching between them. Hyunjin, always the first to act, took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively, a gesture that Felix remembered all too well. But something inside Felix recoiled, a flicker of residual fear twisting through him. His body tensed, and without thinking, he took a small, instinctive step back, as if bracing himself against an invisible threat.

Hyunjin’s hand faltered mid-air, his expression twisting with hurt and confusion. The warmth in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a look of wounded understanding, and he dropped his hand to his side. The sight of his mate’s heartbreak sent a pang through Felix’s chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to bridge the distance. Too many emotions churned within him, raw and unprocessed, leaving him unable to face them fully.

“Felix…” Changbin’s voice broke the silence, soft and careful, as if afraid to shatter the fragile thread holding them together. “Are you… Are you okay?”

Felix looked away, his gaze fixed on the floor as he struggled to find his voice. He didn’t trust himself to speak, didn’t know if he could convey the storm raging within him. All he wanted was to reach Jisung, to ground himself in something familiar, something safe.

“Felix, we’ve missed you.” Chan’s voice was steady, but Felix could hear the tremor beneath it, the unspoken desperation that laced every word. “Please… we just want to know if you’re alright.”

The plea in Chan’s voice was almost enough to break him, but Felix remained silent, clinging to his restraint. His mind was a tangled mess of relief, shame, and uncertainty, and he feared that speaking would only unravel him further. Instead, he cast a glance toward the nurse, silently pleading for help, hoping she would understand his need to escape the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

Picking up on his distress, the nurse stepped forward, her tone polite but firm. “I’m sorry, but Felix needs rest. I’ll be taking him to his new room now.”

His mates exchanged a look, reluctance etched into every line of their faces, but they nodded, stepping back slightly as the nurse led Felix forward, gently guiding him past them. He could hear them walking behind them, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back, his focus solely on putting one foot in front of the other. He could feel their eyes on him, could feel the ache of separation, but he forced himself to ignore it, his mind fixed solely on Jisung.

Once they reached his new room, the nurse turned to the alphas, her voice soft but firm. “I’m going to have to ask you all to give him some space for now.“

Chan nodded reluctantly, his gaze lingering on Felix, who still couldn’t bring himself to look directly at them. Felix could feel the unspoken words in the air, the emotions stretching between them like a fragile thread as they each took a step back, watching as the nurse led him into his room and closed the door.

Inside, the nurse gently helped him back into bed, guiding him down with the same careful hands. Felix let out a shaky breath, his entire body heavy with exhaustion. He felt the nurse’s kind gaze on him as she adjusted the blankets and arranged the IV line, her movements precise and gentle.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, taking his ankle gently in her hand. “I have to put this back on for now. Just in case.”

Felix swallowed, a small nod of understanding as she fastened the restraint around his ankle once more. He knew it was for his safety as well as theirs, knew that his feral state might surface again at any moment, but it didn’t stop the sting of feeling confined again. His hands clenched reflexively against the blanket as he willed himself to stay calm, reminding himself that this was temporary, that he wasn’t back in that cage.

The nurse gave him a gentle smile as she finished, her voice low and soothing. “Try to get some rest, alright? You’ll see Jisung soon.”

She slipped out of the room, leaving Felix alone once more in the quiet, sterile stillness of the hospital room.

Felix lay back on the bed, the remnants of his nightmare still clinging to him like a fog he couldn’t shake. He stared blankly at the sterile ceiling, trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest, the anxiety still gnawing at him from the edges of his consciousness. His fingers twisted the edge of his blanket as he attempted to ground himself, to pull himself fully back to the present.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and he looked over as a lady entered, wheeling in a tray with his dinner. She offered a polite smile, setting the tray on the small table beside his bed, and then placed a cup with a few pills next to it.

“Dinner time, Felix,” she said gently, though her gaze held a flicker of caution. Felix noticed how quickly she set the tray down and stepped back, her movements tentative. She waited for a moment, maybe hoping he’d reach for the food or acknowledge her, but Felix didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on the tray, a wave of indifference washing over him.

The lady’s smile faded a little, and she cleared her throat, her voice softer. “You need to keep your strength up,” she reminded him. “The pills will help with any pain you’re feeling.”

But Felix only nodded, keeping his expression unreadable, and after a few more seconds of waiting, the woman seemed to accept that he wouldn’t eat right away. She gave him one last, hesitant look before quietly excusing herself, closing the door behind her and leaving Felix alone once more.

He glanced at the tray, the unappetizing meal staring back at him. Even though his stomach rumbled faintly with hunger, he felt no urge to eat. Instead, his gaze drifted to the cup of water and the pills beside it, small and innocuous, waiting to dull the pain that had become so familiar.

Slowly, Felix reached for the pills, holding them in his palm for a moment as he considered his next move. The thought of swallowing them, letting them numb everything, made his chest tighten. He knew they were supposed to help, but he couldn’t bring himself to take them. He dropped the pills into the water instead, watching as they began to dissolve, swirling and disappearing into the clear liquid. The soft fizzing sound was oddly calming, a small distraction from the weight pressing down on him.

Minutes passed, and he remained like that, watching the pills dissolve until the water became cloudy.

Just as the last trace of the pills disappeared, a soft knock sounded at the door again. Felix blinked, his gaze lifting as the door opened, and a nurse stepped inside, guiding Jisung carefully into the room.

Felix’s breath caught as he took in the sight of Jisung, frail and tentative, his every movement cautious. The omega’s eyes darted around the room, lingering on Felix for a brief moment before shifting away, as though unsure of what to expect. A wave of relief washed over Felix at the sight of him, yet he remained quiet, unwilling to shatter the fragile calm that had settled over them both.

The nurse offered a gentle smile before excusing herself, leaving Felix and Jisung alone. Silence filled the room, heavy with unspoken words, as they both looked at each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Chapter Text

The room held a heavy, quiet tension as Jisung moved slowly to the bed on the opposite side, his IV stand trailing awkwardly behind him. He clutched a small backpack with one hand, his steps hesitant as he climbed up onto the bed, the metal frame creaking softly under his weight.

Felix watched in silence, his fingers absently twisting the thin hospital blanket, as his eyes flicked from the television casting muted shadows on the walls to Jisung’s uncertain movements. The air felt thick, the silence amplifying his own nervous energy. He shifted slightly, feeling exposed, vulnerable, yet unable to look away.

Jisung reached into his bag, his movements careful and deliberate, and pulled out a small plush chipmunk. Felix felt the corners of his mouth pull into a faint, involuntary smile at the sight. It reminded him of the little chick plush back home—the one Jeongin had given him long ago, back when things were simpler, safer.

After a moment, Felix’s quiet voice broke the silence. “I… I have a chick plush kind of like that one,” he murmured, more to himself than anything, his words slipping out before he could stop them.

Jisung’s eyes flickered to him, then back to his plush, as if unsure if he should respond. He shifted the chipmunk in his hands, brushing a thumb over its small paw before carefully setting it beside him on the bed. The silence returned, but it felt just a bit less tense.

Felix found himself thinking of Jeongin again, of the way his mate always found small ways to show he cared, the thoughtfulness in every little gift, every clumsy attempt to make him feel loved. His heart ached with the weight of memories, and he blinked quickly, brushing his hand over his eyes, willing the tears back.

Jisung’s voice, barely a whisper, finally drifted across the room. “They… they really do miss you, you know.” His gaze stayed fixed on the plush, and the words lingered, tentative, gentle.

Felix’s hand froze mid-motion, his heart twisting painfully. He lowered his gaze, the raw vulnerability too much to bear, the thought of facing them, facing their unfiltered emotions, too overwhelming. His voice, shaky and low, was almost lost in the quiet. “I… I don’t know if I can,” he said, not looking at Jisung.

Jisung didn’t press, only nodded slightly, his quiet presence a strange comfort, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in so long. The room fell silent again, the flickering shadows from the muted television casting gentle, shifting shapes on the walls.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Felix’s doctor entered, clipboard in hand. A wave of nerves washed over Felix, twisting his stomach into knots.

The doctor set his clipboard down on the small table and snapped on a pair of gloves, an act that sent an icy shiver racing down Felix’s spine. He wetted his lips nervously as the doctor turned to face him.

“Do you mind if the other patient hears what I’m about to say?” the doctor asked. Felix's heart plummeted at the question. He glanced over at Jisung, who was already looking intently at him, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

With a shake of his head, Felix felt the room closing in around him. The doctor glanced at the clipboard, then sighed heavily as he met Felix's gaze. “I've already discussed this with one of your mates, and he hasn’t yet relayed his decision. I understand this is a difficult thing to hear,” the doctor began, his tone measured but weighty.

Every heartbeat felt like a drum of impending dread as Felix clenched his blanket tighter, “What decision?” he asked, his voice trembling.

The doctor hesitated, tension hanging thick in the air. “Your body is still extremely weak despite the treatment we’re providing. Being pregnant is taxing your body further; it’s striving to provide for the pup. But continuing this path only leads to increased fragility. If you carry this pup to full term, there’s a high risk that both you and the pup could die.” The doctor’s words rushed out in one breath, as though he sought to dole them out as quickly as possible to soften their impact.

Felix felt his heart stop, panic flooding his system. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead as he shook his head vigorously.

The doctor sighed deeply, his expression pained. “My team and I strongly advise terminating the pregnancy before it’s too late.”

The room settled into a tense quiet after the doctor’s heavy words. Felix’s heart was racing, his pulse loud and insistent in his ears as he processed the meaning behind the doctor’s suggestion. The blanket felt rough and thin beneath his fingers as he clutched it tightly, every instinct telling him to protect the fragile life within him.

“No,” Felix whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with determination. The doctor’s face softened, but he didn’t back down, maintaining his calm, steady stance.

“Felix, please try to understand. Your body is very weak right now, and it’s putting both you and your pup at risk,” he said gently. “We need to consider what’s safest for you both.”

But Felix shook his head, his body tensing further. “No, you can’t—this pup… they’re all I have. I can’t lose them, too.” His voice broke, thick with a mixture of fear and fierce protectiveness. His eyes darted to Jisung, who was watching him with wide, worried eyes from his bed.

The doctor held up his hands, trying to calm Felix. “Felix, I understand. No one wants to take this decision lightly. We’re only discussing possibilities for the sake of your health—”

But Felix wasn’t listening. He felt trapped, his instincts roaring louder than logic. Every fiber of his being screamed to protect his pup, to shield them from this looming threat. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps, his hands shaking as he tried to push himself up, only to be restrained by the thin, restrictive strap around his ankle.

“Please don’t… don’t take them away,” he begged, his voice choked with panic, his vision blurring. His voice cracked, pleading with anyone who would listen.

The doctor took a step back, exchanging a glance with the nurse who had come back in at the sound of Felix’s distressed voice. She moved closer, her face concerned as she approached Felix carefully, her hands held out in a calming gesture.

“Felix, it’s okay,” she murmured softly. “We’re not doing anything right now, we just need you to breathe. Everything is alright.”

But her words barely registered. Felix’s vision was going hazy, his mind tangled in panic, drowning out everything around him. He clawed at the blanket, as if it would anchor him somehow, his breaths coming quicker and shallower until they bordered on hyperventilation. “You can’t take them… please… I won’t let you…”

The nurse looked at the doctor, a wordless understanding passing between them. She carefully approached Felix, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Felix, please try to calm down. No one’s taking your pup from you, not right now. Just breathe, okay?”

But the reassurance fell flat, his omega instincts screaming at him to run, to fight, to do anything to protect his pup. He struggled against the restraint, jerking his ankle in a desperate attempt to free himself.

“Felix, we need to sedate you if you can’t calm down,” the doctor warned gently, his tone carrying both sympathy and authority. He nodded to the nurse, who quickly prepared a syringe, the liquid glinting under the hospital lights as she approached.

“No!” Felix gasped, trying to pull away, but he was weak and his movements clumsy. The nurse gently but firmly held his arm, her fingers warm and steady as she injected the sedative. Within seconds, his frantic movements began to slow, his vision fading at the edges as he slipped into a forced calm.

And then everything went dark.

Felix found himself standing in a field beneath a grey, oppressive sky, clouds rolling thick and dark above him. The air was cold, sharp against his skin, and a chill seeped into his bones as he looked down at the small grave before him. The soil was freshly turned, a mound of earth covering a nameless, too-small resting place. Flowers lay scattered, their petals bruised and wilted, stripped of color as if they, too, were grieving.

He took a slow, shaky step closer, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, each beat resonating with a hollow ache. The gravestone was simple, barely a marker in the earth, yet it seemed to draw everything from him—the last threads of hope, the strength he’d once held, all slipping away into the ground. His eyes traced over the stone, though the letters blurred in his vision, too heavy for him to truly face.

His mates stood behind him, their presence pressing down on him, suffocating and cold. He didn’t dare look at them, too afraid of what he might see. But he could feel the weight of their stares, piercing through him, filling the silence with accusations that went unspoken yet screamed louder than anything he’d ever heard.

“This is your fault.” Chan’s voice was the first to break the silence, low and unwavering, each word laced with a bitterness that struck Felix like a knife.

Felix’s heart sank, his breathing turning shallow as he tried to turn and meet their gaze, but his body felt leaden, anchored to the ground. Every part of him felt exposed, laid bare under their scrutiny, as though they could see right through him, past every excuse, every desperate attempt to justify the guilt he carried.

“You were supposed to protect them,” Minho’s voice came next, quiet but seething, disappointment wrapped around each syllable. “But you didn’t.”

The words sliced through him, a reminder of every broken promise, every moment of helplessness. He wanted to cry out, to tell them he had tried, that he’d done everything he could, but his voice was swallowed by the emptiness, leaving him silent.

“You promised us.” Changbin’s voice was rough with sorrow, his gaze piercing as he looked at Felix. “You promised to keep them safe. But look where we are now.”

Felix staggered back, his body trembling as he dropped to his knees, his fingers digging into the cold earth beneath him. His vision blurred, tears slipping down his face as he stared at the grave, his heart splintering into pieces he couldn’t hold together. Each accusation twisted deeper, embedding itself into the hollowness inside him, each word a wound that refused to heal.

“You were careless.” Seungmin’s voice was softer, almost pitying, as if Felix were something broken beyond repair. “And because of you, they’re gone.”

Felix shook his head, his hands clutching the earth desperately as if he could somehow reach them, somehow pull them back to him. His mind screamed with denial, his heart breaking all over again as he tried to piece together the words that might make them understand, but every sound died in his throat, leaving only silence.

“You should have died with them.” Jeongin’s voice, the last whisper, was barely audible, yet it echoed through Felix with finality.

His mates turned away, their figures fading into shadows, leaving him alone in front of the grave. The world seemed to close in around him, the darkness pressing in until he could barely breathe, his fingers clawing helplessly at the earth as if he could pull his pup back, bring them back to life. But he couldn’t, and the realization sank into him, heavy and unyielding.

The cold seeped deeper into his bones, settling into his soul, filling every corner with a void that nothing could erase. The silence stretched, empty and unforgiving, and as he stared down at the grave, he felt himself slipping away, lost to the darkness.

Felix jolted awake, his heart pounding as the remnants of the nightmare clung to him. His breath was shallow, his cheeks damp from tears he hadn’t realized he’d shed. The room was dim and silent, but as his vision adjusted, he felt a warmth beside him.

Jisung was curled up against him, arms wrapped around him protectively, his breathing slow and steady. In Jisung’s hands, pressed between them, was his small chipmunk plush, its soft fur brushing against Felix’s chest. Felix’s shoulders shook as a fresh wave of tears threatened to fall, the ache of the nightmare still raw. But Jisung’s presence eased some of the weight pressing on his heart.

Without thinking, Felix shifted closer, letting himself be enveloped in Jisung’s warmth. He buried his face against Jisung’s shoulder, clutching his blanket with trembling hands. Jisung murmured something soft in his sleep, his arms instinctively tightening around Felix.

The steady rhythm of Jisung’s heartbeat gradually slowed Felix’s own breathing. He felt his tears subside. Felix closed his eyes again, allowing the warmth and softness of Jisung’s hold to soothe him. Gradually, the tension drained from his body, and he drifted back into sleep, this time, dreamless.

Chapter Text

Chan let out a slow breath as he turned on the shower, steam filling the small hotel bathroom. The stream of water began to cascade, soft and steady, filling the silence between him and Seungmin. There was a calm in these moments with Seungmin that he had missed—quiet and grounding, like coming back to shore after a long drift at sea.

Seungmin joined him under the water, his movements gentle and unhurried, almost hesitant. They didn’t speak, not yet. They didn’t need to. Chan let his fingers trail down Seungmin’s arm, tracing the paths of droplets that clung to his skin. It was almost surreal to have this brief moment of warmth after the nights they’d spent plagued by worry, sleepless and hollow, each passing minute dragging them deeper into uncertainty. For so long, every night had been an ache—a hope that Felix would return, that their family would be whole again. But the agony of the wait had taken its toll on each of them, leaving cracks in places that used to feel whole.

Seungmin’s hand found Chan’s shoulder, and his touch lingered, grounding. He traced circles along Chan’s collarbone, the gesture both comforting and bittersweet. Chan closed his eyes, allowing himself to lean into the touch, feeling the warmth seep in through his skin, hoping it would settle somewhere deep enough to stay. For a moment, they stood there, forehead to forehead, the only sounds the rhythm of the water and their breaths mingling in the steam.

“Do you think… he’ll be okay?” Seungmin’s voice broke the quiet, a whisper soft as a sigh.

Chan hesitated, his jaw clenching as he struggled for the right words. “I hope so,” he murmured, his tone thick with unsaid fears. “He’s strong. Felix has always been stronger than he knows.”

Seungmin’s hand slid down to Chan’s, intertwining their fingers, and for a second, the weight lifted. Chan could feel the unspoken words between them. He knew they both carried the same fear, a gnawing dread that they tried to keep hidden, even from each other.

They stayed that way, the silence speaking louder than any words could, and when they finally pulled away, the air felt a little lighter, the tension in Chan’s shoulders easing, if only slightly.

They dressed quietly afterward, and as Seungmin smoothed the edges of his shirt, he glanced at Chan with a soft, reassuring smile. “Let’s get Felix his things,” he said simply, a small flicker of determination in his eyes.

The two made their way back into the main room where Jeongin and Changbin were packing Felix’s bag. A silent understanding passed between them all; no one dared speak of the uncertainty hanging above them. Jeongin carefully folded a worn hoodie—one of Felix’s favorites—and placed it gently in the bag. His hands lingered, smoothing the fabric. Chan watched the way Jeongin’s expression softened, a bittersweet mix of longing and hope in his gaze.

“Felix always loved this one,” Jeongin murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “It’s got his scent… thought he might need it.”

Changbin nodded, adding a pair of his own shirts and one of Chan’s hoodies. He zipped the bag slowly, his movements deliberate.

Meanwhile, Seungmin and Minho were sorting through a small pile of clothes for Jisung. There was a hesitation in their actions, an unspoken question hanging between them. Jisung wasn’t their mate—he was a stranger, someone they barely knew, and yet, something about his fragile presence stirred a sense of compassion in them.

Minho sighed, carefully folding one of Felix’s older sweaters. “I don’t know if he’ll even wear it,” he said, his voice low, but his hands continued to move, careful and gentle. “But he seems comfortable with Felix.”

With everything packed, they made their way to the car, cramming bags and themselves into the tight space. Chan ended up wedged between Jeongin and Minho while Seungmin sat up front with Changbin. It was a cramped, uncomfortable fit, their arms pressing uncomfortably against each other, but none of them really cared.

The drive back to the hospital was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts, the tension filling the car like a dense fog. Chan watched the familiar streets pass by, each turn bringing them closer to Felix.

Changbin gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles pale against the dark leather. The tension in his body was evident, each jerk of his shoulders and quick glance at the rearview mirror betraying the nervous energy he couldn’t fully contain. His gaze flickered toward Chan, who gave a faint, reassuring nod, though his stomach twisted with his own hidden worry. In the back seat, Seungmin leaned against the window, eyes half-closed, though he wasn’t resting. His fingers drummed a quiet, irregular rhythm against his thigh, his usual calm demeanor frayed around the edges.

Hyunjin was already waiting outside the hospital when they arrived. His figure looked strained, shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible weight, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. As they climbed out of the car, Seungmin stretched, mumbling under his breath about needing a proper rest. His complaint was met with silence—no one had the energy to agree.

They gathered the bags, moving together as they entered the brightly-lit hospital lobby. He turned, catching the soft click of Jeongin’s steps behind him as they made their way toward the nurse’s station.

One of Felix’s nurses, a kind woman with warm eyes, recognized them immediately. She gave a polite nod, her gaze flicking briefly over the bags they held.

“Is Felix okay? Can I see him now?” Chan asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

The nurse gave a sympathetic smile, her hands folding neatly in front of her. “Felix has been stable,” she replied softly, a touch of reassurance in her tone. “He’s been sleeping for the most part. But I’ll need to ask him—and Jisung—before allowing visitors.”

“Please,” Chan murmured, his tone desperate yet controlled. “I just… I need to talk to him. It’s important.”

The nurse nodded, a gentle understanding in her eyes. “I’ll check with them. It may take a moment, but please wait here.” She disappeared down the hallway, leaving them in a state of tense anticipation.

They sat down in the waiting area, the seconds ticking by with an agonizing slowness. Jeongin fidgeted beside Chan, his fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, his usually calm demeanor replaced by a visible restlessness. Changbin glanced at him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder.

When the nurse finally returned, her face was neutral, though her gaze rested on Chan with a slight, encouraging nod. “Felix agreed to see you,” she said softly, addressing Chan directly. “Only you though. I hope everyone understands.”

A murmur of protest rose from Hyunjin, his expression tightening in frustration, but he bit back the words, a bitter resignation in his eyes. He watched Chan with a mixture of envy and sorrow, but eventually gave a silent nod, stepping back.

Chan took a shaky breath, clutching Felix’s bag a little tighter as he followed the nurse down the hall. Each step seemed to echo through the narrow corridor, the weight of the moment settling heavily on him. When they reached the door, the nurse paused, offering him a reassuring smile before she stepped aside, allowing him to enter alone.

The room was dimly lit, the pale afternoon light filtering through the thin curtains. Felix lay on the bed, his form small and fragile beneath the layers of blankets. A pang of guilt twisted in Chan’s chest. How had he let things get this far? How had he failed Felix so profoundly?

Jisung lay in the bed across Felix’s, a slight figure under his own blanket, clutching the chipmunk plush to his chest. He was facing away, silent but awake.

Turning his attention back to Felix, Chan moved cautiously, lowering himself into the chair beside him. He waited, giving Felix a moment to acknowledge him, to look his way, but Felix’s gaze remained averted, his eyes fixed on a distant point on the wall.

“Felix,” Chan murmured, the word heavy, holding everything he felt—the guilt, the sorrow, the regret.

Chan sat quietly, watching the way Felix avoided his gaze. His mate looked so small, like he was fading into the stark white of the hospital bedding. For a few moments, silence filled the space between them, and Chan felt his own chest ache at the sight. He took a steadying breath, willing himself to stay calm.

“Felix,” Chan said again softly, swallowing back the tremor in his voice. “You don’t have to hide from me.” He waited, watching Felix closely, hoping for even the smallest response. But Felix’s eyes stayed rooted to his lap, his whole body closed off, as if he’d folded into himself to keep from shattering.

With a careful breath, Chan continued, voice low and steady, “I know… I know it feels like everything’s different now, that you’re different.” His heart ached to see Felix like this—his usually bright spirit dimmed, his warmth replaced by the hollow shell of someone who’d been through too much. Chan’s gaze softened, wanting nothing more than to bring Felix even the smallest bit of comfort. “But no matter what, you’re still you to us. To me.”

For a moment, Felix’s head tilted slightly, almost like he was considering Chan’s words, but his hands only tightened around the blanket. Chan could see the faintest tremble in them, could feel the tension radiating from his mate, who was barely holding himself together.

Finally, in a voice so fragile it barely reached him, Felix whispered, “It doesn’t feel that way. It feels like… like I’ll never be whole again.” He paused, swallowing hard, his eyes distant. “I feel ruined, Chan.”

Chan’s heart broke at the quiet anguish in Felix’s voice, and he leaned forward, unable to stop himself. He reached out, gently covering Felix’s hand with his own. Felix didn’t pull away, but his hand remained tense, cold beneath Chan’s warm touch. “You’re not ruined,” Chan whispered, a fierce determination in his words. “No matter what’s happened, no matter what you feel right now—you’re not broken. You’re still the same Felix who means everything to us.”

Felix’s lips trembled, but he kept his gaze down, his shoulders tense and guarded. It was like he didn’t believe any of it, like he couldn’t even let himself hope that it was true. Chan took a shaky breath, pushing down his own fear, his own doubts, for Felix’s sake.

“Felix,” he murmured, “we’ve missed you. Not a single thing has changed the way we see you. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Through all of our eyes.” He hesitated, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. He knew there was more he couldn’t say—knew that the hope he was offering was as fragile as the promises he wanted so badly to make. But for now, he couldn’t give Felix anything less than his best effort. He could see that Felix needed it, even if it was only a thin thread of comfort.

Felix’s breath shuddered, and finally, he looked up, eyes glassy and filled with a pain that Chan had no words to ease. “Promise me,” he whispered, his voice breaking, as if he was barely holding it together. “Promise me no one will take my pup.”

Chan felt his heart lurch, his pulse quickening as he met Felix’s pleading gaze. He knew the truth—knew the reality of the situation and the slim chance they had of keeping the pup. But looking into Felix’s eyes, seeing the way his entire soul seemed to hinge on that promise, Chan knew he couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now. Maybe not ever.

He nodded slowly, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. “I promise,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. He pressed his hand more firmly over Felix’s, hoping that somehow, his touch would bring Felix a sliver of reassurance. “No one is taking your pup.”

Felix let out a shaky breath, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. He held onto Chan’s hand a little tighter, as if he were clinging to the promise, clinging to the fragile sense of security Chan was offering him. Chan knew he’d have to keep holding on to that lie, even if it tore him apart inside. Because right now, Felix needed something to believe in, even if that something was only temporary.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin’s feet were relentless on the hospital floor, his steps pounding a rhythm of frustration and helplessness into the tiles. Every time he reached one end of the room, he turned sharply on his heel and strode back to the other, unable to find any semblance of peace. The harsh overhead lights buzzed above him, and the sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, turning his stomach with every inhale. But he didn’t care about any of it—his whole focus was locked on the door he couldn’t open, on the room that held Felix just beyond his reach.

He felt like he was standing outside his own life, frozen and helpless, watching everything fall apart from a distance. He wanted to burst into that room, to force himself between those walls and see Felix with his own eyes, to touch him, to feel for himself that Felix was real and there. But he couldn’t, and every second that ticked by made the ache in his chest sharper, almost unbearable.

Chan’s voice drifted through the closed door, too faint for Hyunjin to make out any words, but just hearing it there, close to Felix, stoked a bitter fire in his chest. Chan could go in, but he couldn’t. One of his mates was on the other side, hurting, and he had to stand out here like a stranger. Rage bubbled up, and he clenched his fists, struggling to keep his voice even. He couldn’t fall apart here, not now.

Beside him, Jeongin shot him a worried glance, his own exhaustion showing in the dark circles under his eyes. “Hyunjin,” he said softly, “you’re gonna wear yourself out. Just…sit down, alright?”

“Don’t,” Hyunjin snapped, harsher than he meant. Jeongin flinched, and Hyunjin’s stomach twisted with guilt, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. It was all too much—every quiet word, every attempt to calm him felt like another weight pressing him down, like they were all telling him to be quiet, to accept it. How could he be quiet when Felix was right there?

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin’s voice joined in, calm but firm. “None of us want to be out here. But this isn’t helping anyone.”

Hyunjin clenched his teeth, not trusting himself to answer without the flood of bitterness breaking free. They didn’t understand. It felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him, and the only person who could steady him was on the other side of that door, hidden away from him.

“Just stop, alright?” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, his anger starting to splinter. “I don’t need to be told to sit down, or to be calm, or to wait.” His hands were shaking, and he could feel the prick of tears threatening, but he blinked them back fiercely, his fists tight at his sides. “I’m supposed to protect him, and he’s in there, away from me.”

Changbin stepped forward, his gaze steady, and placed a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “We’re all struggling here, Hyunjin. You’re not his only mate, we’re all struggling.”

Hyunjin tore his shoulder out of Changbin’s grip, his voice cracking with barely-contained desperation. “Then why does it feel like I am?” He could feel the helplessness rising like a wave, threatening to drown him. He was slipping, slipping further from everything solid, and he couldn’t stop it.

The door opened with a soft click, and they all turned, freezing as Chan stepped out. Felix’s scent drifted into the air, a familiar sweetness that felt like home and longing all at once, and Hyunjin’s senses went into overdrive. His alpha instincts roared to life, demanding he step forward, demanding answers.

Chan didn’t even have a chance to take a breath before Hyunjin closed the distance, his eyes wide and searching. “Is he—what’s going on? Is he alright?” The words tumbled out, raw and desperate, his voice barely controlled.

Chan met his gaze with quiet exhaustion, the weight of whatever had happened in that room clear on his face. “He’s…he’s trying,” he said, his voice low and careful. “He’s been through so much. He just needs more time.”

The answer, the calmness in Chan’s tone, made something snap inside Hyunjin. He couldn’t hold back anymore. “Time? He needs time?” His voice rose, sharp and furious. “Do you think any of us have time? Do you think I have time to just wait out here while he is in there, going through who knows what?”

Chan’s expression hardened, his own patience fraying. “I get that you’re angry, Hyunjin, but you’re not helping by acting like this. Felix needs us to be strong for him, not tearing each other apart.”

The words hit Hyunjin like a slap, and the rage roared in response. “Don’t talk to me about what Felix needs. I know what he needs! I know him.” His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, his breathing ragged. Every fiber of his being wanted to tear down every wall between him and Felix, to break through the barriers and make things right, but he couldn’t—and Chan was right there, calm, standing between him and the one thing he wanted more than anything.

Seungmin stepped between them, pushing Hyunjin back a step. “Enough,” he snapped, his voice carrying an edge of command that left no room for argument. “This isn’t the time for fighting, Hyunjin. You’re letting your anger get the best of you.”

Hyunjin wanted to argue, wanted to scream, but the exhaustion in Seungmin’s face, the quiet sadness that lingered there, brought him back to himself, if only a little. The anger receded, leaving a hollow ache in its place, a loneliness that seemed to echo inside him.

The hallway felt colder, emptier as Hyunjin slumped against the wall, every bit of fire he’d felt just moments ago cooling to a sick, aching void. His mates’ voices drifted around him, but it was all a dull murmur as he fought to steady his breathing, fighting back the overwhelming sense of helplessness pressing down on him. He hated this—feeling like his heart was being torn out, piece by piece, while he was forced to just stand there and watch.

Jeongin broke the silence, his voice soft as he directed his question to Chan. “How did it go in there? How…how is he?”

Chan’s expression shifted, his gaze dropping for a moment before he looked back up, meeting each of their eyes one by one. His voice was careful, measured, as though he was weighing each word. “Felix… he asked me if we would protect his pup. He wants to keep the baby, and he made me promise that no one would take it from him.” He paused, his jaw tightening as he continued. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. So I promised.”

A heavy silence fell over the group, each of them processing Chan’s words. For Hyunjin, it felt like the world was tilting under him. The ache in his chest flared into a sharp, burning anger as the meaning of Chan’s promise sank in. “So you lied to him.” His voice was dangerously low, his fists clenching again as his gaze locked onto Chan. “You told him what he wanted to hear so you wouldn’t have to face him. Do you even realize how much that will hurt him?”

Chan’s face darkened, but he didn’t back down. “And what was I supposed to do, Hyunjin? He’s barely holding on as it is. I couldn’t break him, not like that.”

“Break him?” Hyunjin’s voice was rising, his anger simmering into desperation. “He’s stronger than you give him credit for, Chan. He doesn’t need lies—he needs to know he has us, all of us, that we’ll stand by him no matter what.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Chan’s voice was hard now, his frustration evident. “Do you think any of this is easy for me? I’m trying to keep us together, trying to make sure we don’t lose him entirely.”

Hyunjin’s anger surged again, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. “And lying to him is your answer? Going behind his back, making decisions for him? He deserves better than that—he deserves to know he’s not alone in this.” He was practically shouting now, his heart pounding as he poured everything he’d been holding in, every ounce of frustration, anger, and fear he’d kept bottled up.

Changbin stepped in, placing a firm hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder and pulling him back. His tone was harsh, a command wrapped in worry. “Enough, Hyunjin. We’re all exhausted, and tearing each other apart isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Hyunjin resisted for a moment, his gaze still fixed on Chan, but he felt the strength draining from him, leaving him hollow. He took a shaky breath, and the fight finally left him, replaced by an overwhelming sense of betrayal, a gnawing hurt he didn’t know how to voice. He felt as if he were falling, like the ground had disappeared beneath him, and he was left floating in the dark.

Without another word, Hyunjin turned on his heel, not bothering to look back as he pushed past his mates. He couldn’t stand being there a second longer, couldn’t stand the walls and the lights and the stale hospital air. He needed to breathe, needed space to gather the pieces of himself before he broke completely.

He stormed out of the hospital and into the night, his heart pounding as he slid into his car and drove, letting the silence of the road swallow him whole.

Hyunjin drove with no destination, his hands gripping the wheel tightly as the quiet emptiness outside reflected the turmoil inside him. The city lights blurred past, dim and distant, as his anger slowly dissolved into something far more painful. He couldn’t go back to the hospital, not yet. And the hotel felt cold, hollow—a place he couldn’t bear to be. His mind was crowded with memories, every thought pulling him back to the one person he was desperate to protect and powerless to reach.

He kept driving until he reached a  lake on the outskirts of the city. Hyunjin parked the car and rested his head on the steering wheel, eyes shut, willing the ache in his chest to subside.

Taking a shaky breath, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. He landed on a familiar picture: Felix smiling, eyes crinkling as he held Hyunjin’s phone just a little too close, his face taking up almost the entire screen. Felix had loved borrowing everyone’s phones, filling them with his own selfies. Hyunjin’s phone was filled with these photod.

With a heavy heart, he swiped to the videos, his hands trembling as he opened one. In the video, Felix lay sprawled across Jeongin on the couch, asleep and oblivious to the world. His hair was a mess, his clothes mismatched, and Jeongin was equally entangled in Felix’s limbs, smiling softly as he brushed a few stray hairs from Felix’s face. It had been such a simple moment, and yet it felt like the heart of everything Hyunjin had fought to keep—these pieces of happiness, of a family bound by something deeper than words.

He watched another video, one of Felix baking, his apron covered in flour and chocolate smudged up to his elbows. Felix’s laughter rang through the clip, bright and full of life, and Hyunjin could hear his own voice in the background, teasing him. They’d been so happy, so whole. Now, that warmth felt like a distant dream slipping further away with each passing day.

The last video he clicked on was of Felix and Changbin. Changbin was doing push-ups, each movement steady, with Felix sitting cross-legged on his back, laughing so hard he could barely hold on. Changbin’s grin was as wide as Felix’s, his pride evident as he carried Felix effortlessly.

Hyunjin’s throat tightened as he realized he hadn’t seen Felix’s smile in months. That spark, that light—he hadn’t seen it, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would again.

Finally, he moved to their last messages. The exchange was simple and sweet: his ‘Good morning, sunshine,’ message followed by Felix’s response about missing everyone, about being ready to come home to them. Hyunjin could almost feel the warmth of those words, the comfort that Felix had always been able to bring with just a few lines on a screen.

But the message that followed was one he hadn’t seen until now—a single line that read, ‘I can’t wait to see you again.’ Hyunjin’s heart shattered as he read it, his hands trembling as he gripped his phone.

The loneliness closed in around him, sharp and suffocating, as he realized just how empty his world felt without Felix in it. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, only to have another follow. He didn’t try to stop them this time. He let them fall, the weight of everything he’d been holding in finally crashing down, leaving him raw and exposed under the night sky.

Exhausted and drained, he powered off his phone and leaned back in the seat, letting the silence wrap around him as he closed his eyes.

For the first time in his life, he wished for a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Jisung sat curled up in a hospital chair, his knees hugged tightly to his chest as he gazed out the window. The morning light cast a pale glow over the bustling city beyond, people moving briskly along the sidewalks, bundled up against the chill. Their breaths formed faint clouds in the air as they went about their routines, lost in their own worlds. Cars passed in steady streams, their headlights flickering like stars in the soft gray dawn, while distant sirens echoed faintly, mingling with the hum of the hospital machines.

It was a familiar scene, yet painfully distant, as if he were staring into a world that no longer belonged to him. He’d once been part of that rhythm, part of the city’s steady, comforting heartbeat. Now, he felt like an intruder, watching through a pane of glass that separated him from a life he couldn’t reclaim. Each pedestrian, every passing car, was a reminder of how much he’d lost. The simplest things he once took for granted now felt like luxuries—a freedom he could barely remember, as if it were all from a distant dream.

He closed his eyes briefly, trying to hold on to the faint traces of his old life. He imagined stepping out onto the busy streets again, feeling the sun warm his skin as he walked without looking over his shoulder, without the constant pulse of fear in his veins. But beneath the longing was a gnawing ache, an anxious knot in his stomach that twisted tighter each time he thought of rejoining the world outside. There was a deep-rooted dread there—a fear that everything had changed irrevocably, that he’d been marked by his experiences in ways no one else could see but he could never escape. Opening his eyes again, he pulled his knees closer.

After a while, the outside world grew blurry, and Jisung forced himself to shift his focus. He let his gaze drift around the hospital room, his eyes landing on Felix, who lay curled up on his side in the hospital bed. Felix’s body was curled protectively around himself, one hand resting on his stomach in a gentle, soothing rhythm. Though his eyes were closed, Jisung could tell he wasn’t asleep; the tension in his shoulders and the faint crease in his brow betrayed the quiet turmoil he was trying to hide.

Jisung watched him in silence, an odd ache stirring within him—a desire to reach out, to bridge the distance that had settled between them like an invisible wall. He wanted to offer some small comfort, to lie beside Felix and let him know he wasn’t alone. The urge was stronger than he’d felt in a long time, the need to connect with someone, to remind himself that he wasn’t as lost as he felt. But he stayed where he was, fingers digging into the armrest as he fought against the impulse. He didn’t want to intrude, didn’t want to risk making Felix pull away even further.

As he wrestled with his own thoughts, a soft, hesitant voice broke the silence. “What… what was your life like…before everything?”

Jisung froze, barely daring to breathe. Felix had asked the question without opening his eyes, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable, as though he hadn’t entirely meant to speak aloud. For a moment, Jisung wondered if he should answer at all. Part of him wanted to keep his past tucked away, safe and separate from the bruised, wary present they were both enduring. But there was something in Felix’s voice that made him feel as though Felix wasn’t just asking out of curiosity—he needed to know, maybe to feel a little less alone in his own fears and confusion.

Taking a deep breath, Jisung allowed himself a rare look back, his mind drifting to memories he’d kept hidden for so long. “I… had a pretty normal life, I guess,” he said quietly, his voice softer than usual. “I used to go to college, studying music.”

He glanced at Felix, noticing the subtle way his hand had relaxed against his stomach, his breathing a little steadier. Emboldened by the small shift, Jisung continued, letting his words flow like they hadn’t in ages. “I had a little place by myself. Not much, just a tiny apartment with a view of the city. I’d always keep the windows open, even in winter, just to hear the sounds outside. Sometimes, I’d play my guitar and pretend I was performing for everyone below. Silly, right?”

Felix’s eyes opened slightly, a faint spark of interest flickering in his gaze. Jisung couldn’t quite decipher it—maybe a hint of amusement, or perhaps he was remembering something similar. It was impossible to know, but the way Felix’s focus stayed on him was enough to keep him going, enough to make the words feel less heavy, less like they were dredging up things he couldn’t bear to look at.

“There were days I’d just walk around the city for hours, getting lost on purpose, trying to find new little places I hadn’t seen before. I liked that feeling of being somewhere new, like I could discover a part of the world no one else had noticed. I used to think there were hidden places meant just for me, spots where I could just… disappear for a bit, get away from all the noise.”

As the memories resurfaced, Jisung felt a strange mix of comfort and sorrow. He could see himself, wandering aimlessly through those forgotten alleyways and side streets, the peace that had settled over him back then now feeling distant, almost unreachable. The ache in his chest tightened, a reminder of how far he’d drifted from that simple, carefree life.

“I’ll probably… end up at a sanctuary or something. It’s not like I have a home to go back to. My job’s gone by now, and… there’s no one out there waiting for me.” Jisung hesitated, his words faltering as he glanced back at Felix. He wondered if he’d gone too far, if he’d shared too much. But Felix didn’t look uncomfortable or disinterested; instead, there was a faint warmth in his gaze.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken emotions, but it was a silence that didn’t feel as suffocating as before. It was a shared silence, an understanding that lingered in the spaces they left unsaid.

As the silence stretched, Jisung felt a small but persistent urge to reach out. Felix’s expression had softened, but his gaze remained distant, somewhere far away from the hospital room.

“Felix,” Jisung said gently, his voice a whisper. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I just… I’m here if you want to talk.”

For a long moment, Felix was silent, his gaze distant. Eventually, though, he exhaled softly, the sound heavy with an emotion Jisung couldn’t quite place. He hesitated, his fingers curling slightly over the edge of his blanket. “My mates, they are my peace. They make me feel safe in ways I didn’t know I could feel, especially since I’m not the easiest person to love. But they… they love me all the same.”

Felix’s voice wavered, his words seeming to take more effort with each sentence. “I worked a simple job, nothing too exciting, though I had to go on the occasional business trip. They didn’t like it, but they understood. And when I was home, I’d bake on my days off. I loved seeing their faces when they walked in and realized there were brownies waiting. Just… little things like that made us all happy.”

A shadow crossed his expression, and Jisung’s chest tightened as he listened. Jisung didn’t need to ask to know how much Felix missed it, missed them. He could feel it in the quiet sadness in Felix’s voice, the small sighs, and the way he couldn’t quite look Jisung in the eye.

Felix clenched the blanket in his hand, his fingers whitening as he drew in a shaky breath. “But now…” He swallowed, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Now, I don’t know how to go back. They’re all here, waiting for me. I know that. But… how am I supposed to look them in the eye after everything?”

Jisung swallowed the tightness in his throat, feeling an ache he knew all too well. “Felix,” he said softly, his voice steady with gentle conviction, “I think they already know how much this has changed you. They’ve seen what’s happened, they’re aware. They won’t force you, and they’ll still see you—the real you—even if you feel different.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile ghosted across Felix’s lips, though his eyes remained somber, hesitant. “You think so?”

Jisung nodded, his gaze warm and unyielding. “I do.”

Felix’s eyes softened as he looked at Jisung, the walls around him seeming to drop, even if only a little. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but sincere.

The silence between Jisung and Felix stretched. But the stillness shattered when the door opened, and the nurse entered quietly, pushing a wheelchair with the doctor following closely behind. The two moved with practiced calm, neither of them offering explanations as they approached Felix’s bed.

The doctor stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he leaned down to examine Felix. His hands moved with careful precision, checking Felix’s pulse, his eyes scrutinizing as he assessed Felix’s condition without a single word. Felix watched him warily, his posture tense as he leaned away from the doctor’s touch, his gaze occasionally flicking back to Jisung as though seeking some form of comfort.

Once satisfied, the doctor straightened and exchanged a glance with the nurse, giving her a brief nod. The nurse rolled the wheelchair closer, positioning it by the side of the bed, her face gentle yet unwavering.

The doctor leaned closer to Felix and murmured something, his tone low and firm—words Jisung couldn’t quite make out. Whatever he said, though, caused Felix’s face to tighten, his eyes narrowing with frustration or maybe even fear. Jisung’s heart ached, feeling the tension radiating off the omega, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out, to somehow reassure him.

But before Jisung could do anything, the nurse had stepped in, her movements gentle but decisive as she helped Felix slide off the bed and settle into the wheelchair. Felix remained stiff, his gaze fixed downward as if he couldn’t bear to look back at Jisung, as though leaving felt somehow wrong.

Without another word, the nurse and doctor guided Felix out of the room. Jisung watched them go, his chest heavy with worry, the absence of Felix’s presence suddenly feeling like a void.

Jisung was all alone.

Chapter Text

The gentle hum of the wheelchair’s wheels filled the silence as Felix was guided out of the room, each turn feeling heavier than the last. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a glow down the hall, emphasizing every suffocating detail of the hospital: the faint scent of disinfectant, the polished tiles, and the quiet buzz of distant voices from other rooms. He scanned the empty corridor, hoping—maybe even expecting—to catch a glimpse of one of his mates, but there was no one waiting.

The absence felt sharp, sinking into the pit of his stomach. He knew they hadn’t abandoned him, not really. They were probably somewhere else, maybe not even aware he was going for this ultrasound. But a sliver of doubt crept in, reminding him of how much things had changed, of how their paths had been pulled apart without any of them meaning for it to happen.

He forced himself to focus on the slight warmth of the nurse’s hand on his shoulder as she steered him gently forward, trying to ground himself. Felix’s thoughts kept drifting back to what the doctor had said—a simple ultrasound, just a checkup to “see how things were going.” The phrase itself was meant to reassure him, but it felt like it left too much unsaid, as if there were more layers that he wasn’t ready to peel back yet. Excitement mixed with a strange hesitation in his chest, and he struggled to piece through them, to understand why this checkup felt like something he should be cautious of.

They arrived at the examination room, and the nurse stopped the wheelchair carefully. Felix’s eyes swept over the space: stark white walls, medical equipment neatly lined up, the examination bed looming in the middle of the room.

The nurse’s voice broke through his thoughts, gentle but with an edge of understanding that felt comforting. “Here, let’s get you up on the bed, alright?”

Felix nodded, swallowing as he pushed himself to stand, wincing slightly at the discomfort that still lingered in his joints. The nurse offered a steadying hand, helping him onto the bed, and once he was seated, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his hands flat against the cool sheets. It felt strange being here, about to look at his pup for the first time. There was a part of him that couldn’t wait—seeing his child, knowing they were real, that they had somehow survived alongside him, gave him a faint sense of hope.

The nurse’s question cut through his thoughts, soft but pointed. “Would you like one of your mates to join you?”

Felix froze, caught off guard. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted someone here, of course, someone he trusted, someone who could ground him. He thought of Chan first, his steady presence always a source of comfort. Then, Changbin, with his gentle strength. But a different face came to mind—Hyunjin. Felix missed him in a way that was difficult to put into words. He thought of quiet afternoons spent in art galleries with him, surrounded by soft light and painted landscapes, the calm that Hyunjin’s presence always brought. It was a warmth that seemed so distant now, yet so vivid that he could almost reach out and feel it.

The nurse’s patient gaze encouraged him, and finally, he nodded. “Could you… could you bring Hyunjin?”

She gave a kind smile, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “Of course. I’ll call him right away.”

As she left, the silence settled in again, deeper this time, pressing in around him. Felix’s gaze drifted to the floor, his fingers brushing lightly over his stomach in an absent gesture, an instinctive touch as if he needed the physical connection to remind himself that his pup was real. His omega instincts flared, and the comforting brush of his own hand seemed to quiet some of the anxious energy swirling inside him.

But doubt lingered, tugging at his thoughts. He wondered why no one had come, why the hallway had been empty, why his mates hadn’t already been there to see him, to offer the reassurance he so desperately needed. Did they not know? Or were they just not prepared for this, just as he wasn’t? Maybe they hadn’t even expected him to want them nearby. He shifted slightly on the bed, glancing towards the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of any familiar face, any hint of comfort or familiarity.

Each passing minute felt longer than the last. His gaze wandered over his surroundings, his mind replaying scattered memories of the past few months, the loneliness, the desperation, and now, this fragile thread of hope that he couldn’t help but cling to.

Felix waited in silence, his hands still resting on his stomach as he watched the door, heart pounding a little faster each time footsteps echoed down the hall. But every time, they faded, and he was left alone with his thoughts, a nervous tension winding through him.

After several minutes, the door finally creaked open, and the nurse stepped back inside. Felix sat up straighter, his heart lifting for a moment, only for a flicker of disappointment to settle in when she entered without Hyunjin.

The nurse’s expression was gentle but slightly apologetic. “I spoke with Chan,” she said softly. “They’re trying to find Hyunjin, but he wasn’t with the others. They’re looking for him now.” She hesitated, studying Felix’s reaction before adding, “Jeongin is here if you’d like him to join you instead.”

Felix’s shoulders sagged a little, and he felt a pang of worry twist in his chest. Was he okay? Still, Jeongin was here. He nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yes… yes, please. Jeongin will be okay.”

The nurse nodded, offering him a reassuring smile before slipping back out of the room. Felix felt the nerves creeping up again, but he tried to shake them off, reminding himself that soon Jeongin would be here, and he wouldn’t be alone.

After a short moment, the door opened again, and this time, Jeongin stepped inside, eyes wide with a mix of worry and relief when he saw Felix. The young alpha looked a bit out of breath, as if he’d hurried here, and a faint blush tinged his cheeks as he walked over, hands fidgeting slightly before he quickly tucked them into his pockets.

“Felix,” he said, a little breathless, but his voice was warm and filled with relief. His expression softened as he looked at Felix with a mixture of awe and worry. “They told me you… that you were having an ultrasound,” he murmured, his voice catching a little on the last word. There was a hint of nervous excitement in his gaze, but Felix could tell there was something else there too, something that looked almost like fear.

Felix nodded, “Yeah… they want to check on the baby”

“Felix…” Jeongin’s voice was soft, but Felix could hear the tension lying underneath, that mix of concern and hope. Felix clasped his hands together tightly to keep them from trembling, unsure how to start or what he wanted to say.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Felix’s gaze dropped to the white linens on the bed, his mind filled with a storm of questions. Did Jeongin feel any anger toward him for being gone so long? Would he look at him differently now that he was…well, different? The heaviness of those thoughts made him instinctively pull back, shrinking into himself as the silence stretched.

But Jeongin moved slowly, carefully easing into the chair beside him, as though sensing Felix’s nerves. “I’m really glad you wanted me here, Felix,” Jeongin began, his voice warm and steady, though Felix could tell he was measuring his words. “I know it’s…a lot right now. But you don’t have to feel like you’re alone in this.”

Felix bit his lip, his fingers still twisting together in his lap. Part of him wanted to answer right away, to tell Jeongin everything he’d been holding back, all the fears that had weighed on him since his rescue. But another part of him held back, afraid of how vulnerable he’d feel if he opened up.

“I—” His voice came out small, and he glanced away, not sure if he could hold Jeongin’s gaze yet. “I…just didn’t know if anyone really wanted to be here. I’ve…been so—” He broke off, struggling to find words.

Jeongin nodded, his expression softening. “I get it. It’s…it’s been overwhelming for all of us. But I’m here because I want to be, Felix. No one’s forcing me, okay? I just want you to feel…safe with me. Even if it takes some time.”

Felix’s shoulders relaxed slightly, the sincerity in Jeongin’s words settling some of the unease gnawing at him. But his heart still beat rapidly, his instincts half-ready to withdraw, to hide away the fractured parts of himself that felt too raw, too exposed. And yet, he found himself nodding, just a little, allowing Jeongin’s words to sink in.

“Thank you…” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, but he could see the flash of relief in Jeongin’s eyes. The gentle warmth of that look was enough to ease some of the tightness in his chest, and he found himself meeting Jeongin’s gaze just a bit longer this time before glancing away

Jeongin nodded, looking down as if gathering his thoughts. He glanced at Felix’s stomach for a brief second, a mix of awe and hesitation in his eyes. Felix felt a gentle warmth spread through him at the sight of Jeongin’s shy wonder, and without thinking, he reached out, wrapping his fingers around Jeongin’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“It’s… it’s real,” Jeongin said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears, and Felix felt his own emotions swelling at the sight. “I mean… you’re really here, and so is the pup.”

Felix nodded, his grip on Jeongin’s hand tightening as he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. The gravity of the situation, the reality of what they were about to see, was starting to settle in, filling the room with a kind of quiet anticipation that made his heart race.

Just then, the door opened once more, and the ultrasound technician entered, wheeling a small machine beside her. She smiled politely, introducing herself before turning her focus to Felix, her tone professional but gentle. She began setting up, moving with a practiced ease, and Felix’s heart pounded in his chest, anticipation and anxiety twining together.

“This will just take a moment,” she said kindly, gesturing for him to lift his shirt a little so she could apply the gel. Felix obliged, feeling a little self-conscious but focusing on Jeongin’s hand in his, the warmth and steadiness of it grounding him.

The technician spread the cool gel across his stomach, and Felix shivered slightly at the sensation. Jeongin’s fingers tightened around his, offering silent support, and Felix leaned into it, letting the steady presence calm his nerves. He glanced at Jeongin, catching the flicker of emotions in his gaze—nervousness, excitement, and something Felix couldn’t quite place. There was a depth there, an unspoken worry, and Felix had the strange sense that Jeongin knew something he didn’t.

Then, with a gentle press, the technician moved the ultrasound wand over his stomach, and Felix’s gaze snapped to the screen, his breath catching. There, in the fuzzy black-and-white image, was a tiny form, small and delicate but undeniably real.

His heart swelled with a fierce love, his omega instincts flaring as he gazed at the faint outline of his pup. It was smaller than he’d expected, almost fragile-looking, but it was there. His pup had survived, had held on just as he had, and now it was right there in front of him, a reminder of everything he had fought for.

The technician gave them a soft smile, her eyes kind as she asked, “Would you like to know the baby’s gender?”

Felix nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes… please.”

The technician paused, looking between him and Jeongin with a gentle, almost hesitant expression, as if she was aware of the weight of this moment. “You’re having a girl.”

Felix felt a tear slip down his cheek, his heart swelling with a mix of joy and relief. A girl. His daughter. He glanced at Jeongin, who was staring at the screen with a look of awe mixed with a trace of something heavier.

Jeongin squeezed his hand tighter, his face a mixture of emotions, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips even as his eyes glistened.

Felix was so absorbed in the sight of his baby on the screen that he barely noticed the soft beeps and whirs of the machine around him. All he could see was the faint outline of her—so small and delicate, yet undeniably there, nestled within him. His chest felt tight with emotion, and he had to blink back tears as he kept his gaze fixed on the screen.

Jeongin was quiet, his gaze locked on the image. He noticed Jeongin’s hand trembling slightly in his own, the young alpha’s emotions plain on his face. Jeongin’s usual confidence had given way to a vulnerability that Felix had rarely seen—a rawness that seemed almost fragile.

After a few minutes of gentle adjustments and more images flashing across the screen, the ultrasound technician looked up, her expression warm but a bit cautious. Felix’s heart skipped a beat at the hint of concern in her gaze.

The technician smiled reassuringly, as if sensing the questions whirling in his mind. “She’s a fighter,” she murmured.

Felix nodded, clinging to her words. A fighter. Just like him. She was his daughter, and she was strong—he could feel it in his heart. But the worry gnawed at him, and he knew he couldn’t ignore it, even as he held onto the hope she’d just given him.

The technician moved the wand again, allowing a last look at the little form on the screen. She then wiped away the gel with a soft cloth and offered Felix a gentle smile. “I’ll leave you both for a moment. The doctor will be in shortly to go over everything in detail.”

As she left, Felix glanced over at Jeongin, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen. His expression was tense, brows drawn together, and Felix could see the faint shimmer of tears in his eyes. The young alpha had always been strong, steady, but now he looked vulnerable in a way Felix hadn’t seen before.

“Jeongin…” Felix’s voice came out as a whisper, and he reached out, taking both of Jeongin’s hands in his own. The alpha blinked, tearing his gaze from the screen to meet Felix’s eyes. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but his mouth opened and closed, the words seeming to catch in his throat.

Felix offered him a small, reassuring smile, squeezing his hands gently. “We’re having a daughter,” he murmured, a warmth spreading through him at the words. “Can you believe it?”

Jeongin nodded, his expression softening as he returned Felix’s smile, though there was still a hint of sadness in his gaze. “I… I can,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And she’s beautiful, Felix. Just like you.”

A faint blush crept up Felix’s cheeks, and he felt a rush of affection for the young alpha, who always seemed to know exactly what to say to ease his nerves.

After a moment, the door opened again, and the doctor entered, clipboard in hand. His expression was calm but serious as he glanced between Felix and Jeongin, his gaze lingering on Felix with a hint of concern.

“Felix,” the doctor began, his tone careful. “I wanted to go over a few things with you, now that we have a clearer idea of the situation.”

Felix swallowed, feeling Jeongin’s hand squeeze his own in silent support. He braced himself, knowing that this was the moment he’d been dreading.

Felix’s grip on Jeongin’s hand tightened as the doctor settled himself on the other chair by the bed, clipboard in hand. There was a brief pause, as if the doctor was carefully choosing his words. Felix’s heartbeat thrummed in his ears, and he could feel his omega instincts coiling protectively within him, ready to fight for his pup against anything that threatened her.

The doctor cleared his throat, glancing between Felix and Jeongin. “I know this is a lot to process, but I want to be as open with you as I can, Felix,” he began, his tone gentle but resolute. “Your pup is showing signs of growth restriction—she’s smaller than we’d like to see at this stage, and that carries some significant risks.”

Felix felt a rush of worry. He could sense Jeongin’s hand tighten in response, his knuckles pale with tension. The doctors words echoed in Felix’s mind, and he couldn’t help but feel a prickle of fear. She was here, she was alive, but what did it mean that she was smaller?

Felix’s chest tightened as he absorbed the doctor’s words, but he held his ground, nodding slowly to signal he understood.

The doctor’s gaze softened. “I realize this may be difficult to hear, but I must advise you that carrying to term is likely to pose severe health risks, both to you and your baby. Given her current development, a full-term pregnancy would be extremely dangerous.”

Felix’s pulse hammered faster, his instincts warring within him. Protecting his daughter, his pup, was the most natural feeling in the world. But here he was, being asked to choose a path that meant he might never get to see her grow, might never get to be there for her.

“What… what do you mean by risks?” Felix managed, his voice tight and controlled, masking the emotions that threatened to spill over.

The doctor glanced briefly at Jeongin, then back at Felix. “If we wait much longer, both your health and hers could be in severe danger. A C-section would allow us to deliver her early—there would be risks with that as well, but it’s a step that gives her the best chance at survival.”

Felix’s hand clenched the hospital blanket, his chest filled with a storm of fear and anger. He hated this—this feeling of being powerless, of not having a simple path to ensure his pup’s safety. The words hung heavy in the air, each one compounding his growing despair.

“Mr. Bang has already expressed his concerns,” the doctor continued carefully, his gaze steady. “He’s indicated he thinks… that terminating might be the best decision under these circumstances.”

At the mention of Chan, Felix’s stomach dropped. He didn’t need to look at Jeongin to know the truth; he could feel the younger alpha’s scent sour beside him, his discomfort palpable. But the reality of it—the fact that Chan, his rock, his anchor, would even consider ending this pregnancy—cut deeper than any pain he’d endured in his captivity.

Felix swallowed, a wave of anger and defiance flooding through him. He wouldn’t give up, couldn’t give up. This pup, his daughter, was a part of him. His love for her was fierce and consuming, a bond he couldn’t sever simply because the path forward was uncertain.

After a shaky breath, Felix looked up, meeting the doctor’s gaze with a resolve that felt almost foreign to him in that moment. “I want the C-section,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. “I want to give her a chance.”

The doctor nodded, his face reflecting both understanding and concern. “Felix, I understand your choice. I just want to make sure you’re aware—this will be a difficult journey. There are potential complications, and even with the best care, the outcome could be challenging. But we’ll do everything we can to support you and your pup.”

Felix nodded, bracing himself against the wave of fear that threatened to drown him.

The doctor gave a final nod, glancing between them. “I’ll prepare the necessary arrangements. I’ll come see you tomorrow to discuss things further.”

With that, he rose, leaving Felix and Jeongin in the quiet room. As the door clicked shut behind him, the weight of the conversation settled over Felix like a heavy blanket. The room felt suddenly too small, the air thick with a mixture of tension and unspoken fears.

Jeongin’s gaze was still locked on Felix, his eyes bright with unshed tears. The young alpha’s scent was a mix of anxiety and quiet determination, a testament to the depth of his feelings. “Felix… are you sure?” Jeongin’s voice was barely a whisper, the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air.

Felix met his gaze, his heart aching as he took in Jeongin’s worried expression. “I’m sure, Jeongin,” he murmured, squeezing the alpha’s hand reassuringly. “She deserves a chance. And no matter what happens, I’ll always know I did everything I could to protect her.”

Jeongin nodded, a single tear escaping down his cheek, though he quickly brushed it away. He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against Felix’s.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, finding solace in each other’s presence. No words were necessary.

After a few moments of silence, the nurse reentered the room, her face calm as she approached Felix with a wheelchair. Jeongin straightened immediately, his hand never leaving Felix’s as he gave him a soft, reassuring squeeze.

“Alright, Felix,” the nurse said gently, her voice soothing as she positioned the wheelchair beside the bed. “We’re ready to take you back to your room.”

Felix nodded, his mind still a swirl of emotions after the doctor’s words. He felt his omega instincts wanting to retreat somewhere safe, somewhere he could process everything without the weight of so many decisions on his shoulders.

Jeongin stood up first, offering his hands to help Felix off the bed. The young alpha’s grip was steady, and he guided Felix carefully, supporting him as the nurse held the wheelchair steady. Once Felix was settled, Jeongin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering him a quiet, steadying presence.

The nurse began to wheel Felix out of the examination room, with Jeongin walking close by his side. They made their way through the quiet hospital corridors, the fluorescent lights casting a soft glow that felt almost surreal after the weight of the news. Felix felt the cool air prickling his skin, his mind still replaying the doctor’s words, the images of his tiny pup on the screen, and the bittersweet happiness mixed with worry that had filled him.

He wanted to see his mates, to feel their presence around him, to remind himself of the strength he knew they could give him. But the hallways remained empty, and the absence of his mates gnawed at him, feeding his anxiety with every passing second.

After a few more turns, they arrived back at his room. The nurse pushed the door open, her calm expression unwavering as she glanced inside.

“Jisung,” she called softly. “I have someone who would like to come in, if that’s alright with you.”

Felix glanced toward the open door, catching a glimpse of Jisung’s wide eyes as he looked up, his expression both anxious and relieved. Felix felt his heart clench, a renewed sense of warmth filling him at the sight of Jisungs familiar face.

Jisung’s gaze flicked to Jeongin, and Felix saw the nervousness in his eyes as he gave a small, hesitant nod. The nurse entered the room, carefully wheeling Felix inside, with Jeongin close behind. She helped Felix settle back onto the bed, her movements gentle and practiced, making sure he was comfortable before stepping back with a quiet, “If you need anything, I’ll be right outside.”

Once they were alone, a silence filled the room, thick with the weight of emotions none of them had yet spoken aloud. Jisung’s gaze lingered on Jeongin, his tension evident as he took in the presence of Felix’s mate. But there was no hostility in his gaze—only a quiet, almost shy curiosity, as if he was trying to gauge the young alpha’s intentions.

Jeongin, for his part, kept his focus on Felix, but he gave Jisung a small, reassuring nod, acknowledging him without words.

Finally, Jeongin settled into the chair beside Felix’s bed, reaching for his hand once more. His gaze was soft as he met Felix’s eyes, a mixture of relief, worry, and something else—something deeper that Felix couldn’t quite name. But he didn’t need to name it; the warmth in Jeongin’s eyes, the way his fingers laced through Felix’s, spoke volumes.

Chapter Text

Jisung blinked awake, stirring under the thin, slightly scratchy hospital blanket, feeling the cool morning air as it slipped in through the barely cracked window across the room. For a long moment, he stayed still, focused on the quiet sounds that filled the room—the hum of machines, the faint chirping of birds just outside, and the soft, even breathing coming from the chair beside Felix’s bed. He turned his head slowly, trying not to make a sound, his gaze settling on the alpha who had dozed off in the chair at some point during the night.

The sight of the alpha so close to him initially filled Jisung with unease, his instincts flaring up, the automatic urge to keep a safe distance from any alpha settling in his bones. He took a quiet, shaky breath, reminding himself that this alpha had only shown kindness, that he had been patient and careful, never once making him feel like he was in any kind of danger. Even so, it was strange, unfamiliar, to have an alpha resting so near.

Jisung’s gaze lingered on Jeongin, taking in his relaxed expression as he slept, the way his brow was smooth, his face peaceful in a way that made him look almost younger. In sleep, Jeongin looked so different from the alpha who’d spent hours by Felix’s side, offering steady reassurances and watching over them both. He looked… vulnerable, Jisung thought with a mix of surprise and curiosity. It was such an unexpected sight that it almost felt intrusive to keep watching, but he couldn’t quite help himself.

He found himself studying the faint lines of tiredness under Jeongin’s eyes, the way his long lashes rested against his skin, and even the way he held himself, his arms crossed over his chest as though bracing against the cold or perhaps out of habit. Despite the faint stiffness in his posture, Jeongin looked… peaceful, and Jisung felt a strange pang of guilt. The chair didn’t look comfortable at all; in fact, the way Jeongin was slumped suggested he’d fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

As the minutes drifted by, Jisung kept his quiet vigil, torn between curiosity and hesitation. His instincts urged him to keep his distance, but there was something undeniably comforting in Jeongin’s presence, even while he slept. Jisung felt his usual nervousness ebb ever so slightly, enough for him to let his gaze linger without feeling too exposed. The quiet of the room, combined with the early morning light filtering softly through the window, cast everything in a muted calm that he was almost afraid to disturb.

Jisung’s thoughts wandered as he watched the gentle rise and fall of Jeongin’s chest. He began noticing details he hadn’t dared to before: the slight messiness of Jeongin’s dark hair, the faint scrunch of his brows even in sleep. It was strange, he thought, how such small things could humanize someone, make them seem more approachable.

A reluctant sigh slipped out of him, and he bit his lip, immediately glancing over to see if he’d disturbed Jeongin. But the alpha remained undisturbed, his breathing deep and even. Jisung’s omega instincts stirred with a mixture of guilt and protectiveness—both emotions unexpected and confusing. Here Jeongin was, uncomfortable in that cramped chair, all because he was so dedicated to Felix, so insistent on staying close to help however he could. Jisung wondered briefly what it might be like to have someone willing to sacrifice so much for him, to have someone so loyal they’d sleep beside his bed just to offer comfort.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. Jeongin’s loyalty belonged to Felix and his mates; it wasn’t his place to imagine anything more. Still, that faint warmth in his chest refused to leave, persisting like a stubborn spark.

As dawn continued to break outside, casting a pale glow across the room, Jisung heard the faint creak of the door opening. He tensed for a moment but relaxed when he recognized the familiar figure of his nurse. She tiptoed into the room with practiced care, offering him a warm, understanding smile when she saw he was awake. With a soft murmur of greeting, she made her way to his bedside.

“Good morning, Jisung,” she whispered, her tone gentle and reassuring. “How are you feeling today?”

Jisung managed a shy nod, watching as she began her routine check-up. He didn’t say much—words often seemed to evade him during these early mornings, when everything felt too fragile, too close to the surface. But the nurse was kind, her movements gentle as she took his pulse, checked his wounds, and adjusted the monitor.

As she worked, her gaze lingered on him for a moment, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re looking better every day,” she said softly, the warmth in her voice a balm to his often anxious mind. “Your color is coming back, and I can tell you’ve been taking care of yourself. Even your hair looks healthier.”

Jisung felt a blush creep up his cheeks, a little embarrassed by the praise but unable to hide the small smile that surfaced in response. He wasn’t used to compliments—certainly not ones so genuine and unhurried. His omega instincts preened at the praise, and he felt an unfamiliar flutter of pride, even if it was only about something as simple as looking a bit healthier. It felt like progress, like a step toward something better, and that glimmer of hope was a feeling he wanted to hold onto.

The nurse continued her gentle check-up, her careful eyes noting every small improvement. “I think you might be able to go home soon, Jisung,” she murmured, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the others. “If everything continues this way, we’ll likely run a few final tests, and after that, it’ll just be monthly check-ups.”

Jisung’s heart leaped, but the feeling was complicated. On one hand, he was grateful for the progress—thankful to be healing, to finally be in a place where he could think about leaving the sterile walls of the hospital. But on the other, the idea of leaving was… daunting. He’d grown attached to Felix, to the quiet sense of companionship he’d found here. The thought of parting ways with Felix, of going off on his own, filled him with an ache that surprised him with its intensity.

Trying to keep his tone steady, he asked, “Are the… omega sanctuaries nearby?”

The nurse’s expression softened, sensing the depth of his question. She pulled a chair over, sitting beside him as she began to explain. “Yes, there are a few in the area. Each one is a little different, but they all offer support, community, and a safe place to adjust. There’s even one a bit further out with beautiful grounds—a garden, a quiet library. I think you’d like it there.”

Her words painted a picture of peace and safety, a place where he could perhaps begin to find himself again, away from the lingering shadows of fear. But a part of him still hesitated, uncertain about what lay ahead. The idea of being alone, even in a sanctuary, felt overwhelming, like stepping into a vast unknown.

The nurse gave his hand a comforting squeeze, “You’ve come so far.”

Just then, a slight stir came from the other side of the room, and Jisung glanced over to see Jeongin slowly waking, stretching his arms as he adjusted to the morning light. The nurse gathered her things and offered him one last encouraging smile before she slipped out of the room.

Jisung kept his gaze fixed on Jeongin, studying the way the alpha rubbed his eyes and stretched, blinking sleepily in the morning light. He looked worn out, his hair sticking out in places,

Jeongin caught Jisung watching him, and a faint smile tugged at the alpha’s lips. He looked surprised at first, as if he hadn’t expected to see Jisung awake, but then he softened, his eyes kind and warm. “Good morning,” he said quietly, his voice gentle, almost cautious, as if he didn’t want to spook him.

Jisung looked down shyly, a hint of a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.

The two of them settled into an easy, if tentative, silence, each seemingly content to let the other adjust to the morning in their own time. Jisung found himself glancing toward Felix’s bed, wondering when he might wake up. Despite everything, Jisung wasn’t ready to face the reality of being separated from him.

Jisung watched as Felix began to  stir, drawing both of their attention. Felix blinked drowsily, glancing around before his gaze settled on Jisung. He gave a small, tired smile.

Before either of them could speak, Jeongin’s phone vibrated in his pocket. With a quick, apologetic glance, Jeongin stood and stepped toward the door, answering quietly so as not to disturb them. Felix’s gaze lingered on Jeongin as he left, a flicker of sadness in his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by Jisung. He wasn’t sure what had happened between them, but he sensed there was more beneath the surface, emotions neither Felix nor Jeongin were ready to voice.

When Jeongin slipped out, Jisung took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Felix…” he began, his voice uncertain. “I… I don’t know how I feel about leaving here.” He struggled with the words, unsure if they even made sense, but Felix’s eyes softened with understanding.

A deep ache settled in Jisung’s chest. “I… I don’t want to go to an omega sanctuary. I know it’s supposed to be safe, but… I just don’t know if I can handle it. It feels like… like I’d be alone again.”

Felix’s gaze grew distant, his own emotions flickering across his face. They fell into silence, Jisung drawing strength from the quiet reassurance Felix’s presence offered. It was Felix’s calm that had helped him through so much, and now, facing the uncertainty of parting ways, he felt as if a part of him was being pulled away too.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, and Jeongin returned with three containers in his hands. The familiar scent of food drifted through the room, and Jisung felt his stomach twist with a mix of hunger and nerves. Jeongin set one container down beside Felix and another in front of Jisung, his movements gentle and careful.

“Minho made this for you both,” Jeongin said quietly, his gaze flicking to Felix with a hint of hesitance, as if he were uncertain of Felix’s reaction. Felix seemed wary, his hands hovering over the container as if unsure whether to accept it. But after a brief moment, he let out a soft sigh and opened it, and Jisung watched as a hint of relief washed over Jeongin’s face.

Felix took a small bite, his expression softening as he tasted the food. A quiet purr rumbled from his chest, and Jisung felt a faint smile tug at his own lips, the sound soothing and reassuring. Felix’s reaction eased Jisung’s own worries, and he cautiously picked up his own container, taking small bites as he watched Felix eat.

Jeongin settled into his chair, watching them both with a quiet, protective gaze. After a few moments, he spoke softly. “Hyunjin’s back,” he said, glancing briefly at Felix. “He’s been asking about you.”

Felix’s expression darkened slightly, his gaze lowering to his food. He didn’t respond, and Jisung noticed the tension in the omega’s posture, the way Felix’s hands gripped the container just a little tighter. It was clear there was something unresolved there, and the silence that followed felt heavy, filled with unspoken emotions that none of them were ready to address.

Before the tension could deepen, the door opened once again, and the doctor entered. He offered a polite smile to each of them before focusing on Felix. “We’ll need to perform the C-section soon, and you have the option to stay here or transfer to the hospital closer to your home. The team there is fully prepared to handle everything, but the choice is yours.”

Felix looked at the doctor, then glanced toward Jisung, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze. Jisung felt his heart sink slightly, realizing this was the moment Felix might choose to leave, to go back to his life and his mates. He could feel his omega instincts clinging desperately, wanting to keep Felix close, but he swallowed down the urge, understanding Felix had to make his own decision.

After a moment of silence, Felix spoke, his voice soft but steady. “The hospital closer to home,” he said finally, and Jisung’s chest tightened, the ache of impending separation settling in.

The doctor nodded, noting it down before he explained further details about the timeline and what Felix could expect in the next few days. Jisung didn't bother to listen to any of the details, it didn't matter to him anymore, Felix was leaving. Once everything was clarified, the doctor gave a reassuring nod to Felix, then excused himself, leaving the three of them in a silence that felt both heavy and bittersweet.

Felix’s eyes flickered to Jisung, then back down to his lap, where his hands were nervously twisting the corner of his blanket. The decision had been made, and it hung in the air—Felix was going to be transferred to the hospital closer to home.

Jisung could feel a knot tightening in his stomach. He had tried so hard not to think about the future, about what would come after the doctors gave both him and Felix the okay. But now, it was staring him in the face, impossible to ignore. Felix wasn’t going to be here anymore. The thought of losing him, of being left behind, made Jisung feel like a small, fragile thing, like something that could shatter at any moment.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling anymore—sadness, fear, uncertainty. He had come to rely so much on Felix’s presence, on the quiet comfort of knowing he was there. Felix had been his constant, the one person who had been with him during the worst, and now he was going to leave, not just physically but in a way that made Jisung feel more alone than ever.

Jeongin, who had been silently observing the exchange, cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll let you two talk for a while,” he said quietly. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod to Jisung, a silent reassurance before leaving the room, the door clicking softly behind him.

Jisung watched him go, a little thankful for the space, even though it only made the silence in the room feel more suffocating. He could hear the soft rustle of Felix’s movements, but he didn’t look up to face him. He didn’t trust himself to look into Felix’s eyes right now.

“I’ll miss you,” Jisung said quietly, his voice breaking slightly as the words left his mouth. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to acknowledge the painful truth, but it was out before he could stop himself. His chest tightened as he fought to keep his composure, his hands clutching the blanket in his lap.

Felix’s lips parted, as if he wanted to say something more, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he lowered his gaze again, his fingers nervously pulling at the hem of his blanket. The silence stretched between them, heavy with the things they both couldn’t say.

Felix’s gaze shifted, avoiding Jisung’s eyes for a moment, as if he were weighing his next words carefully. “I was thinking…” he began, his voice uncertain. “When you’re ready, when you leave the hospital… maybe you could come with us. Stay with us. I know it’s a lot, and I understand if you don’t want to, but… I don't want to go separate ways.”

Chapter Text

Jisung sat in silence, the words Felix had said lingering heavily in the air. Felix had offered him a place in his home, a place where he wouldn’t have to be alone or wonder where his next safe night of sleep would be. It was a kindness Jisung hadn’t expected, yet here he was, unable to muster a response.

He wanted to say yes—he wanted to hold onto Felix and never let go. After all, Felix had been his only source of light and hope, the only person who had reminded him what warmth felt like, even if it was just in fleeting moments between all the fear and hurt. But the thought of living with six strangers, five of whom were alphas, made Jisung’s chest tighten. He barely felt comfortable around one or two people at a time; the idea of being surrounded by so many, of needing to trust them, felt impossible.

Jisung’s eyes shifted down to his hands, feeling helpless. His omega was whimpering inside him, torn between the deep-seated fear of facing alphas and the gnawing dread of being left behind. What if he refused and Felix left him alone again? The thought was unbearable, a yawning chasm of loneliness that seemed even more terrifying than his fear of alphas. But he couldn’t voice any of this; the words were locked up, choked by his fear, and he just… stayed silent.

Felix’s hopeful expression softened, a flicker of sadness in his eyes as he seemed to sense the conflict within Jisung. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly, but Jisung noticed how his voice wavered, just barely.

Something in Jisung cracked. He wanted to reach out, to explain himself, but his emotions were slipping from his control. In a heartbeat, panic clawed its way to the surface, raw and wild. The fear of Felix leaving, of losing the only person who seemed to care about him in this cold world overwhelmed him. His omega instincts surged forward, desperate and afraid. His scent—normally gentle vanilla—became sharp and distressed, filling the room with a sour note that neither he nor Felix could ignore.

Felix’s concerned gaze turned to him, eyes widening slightly as he noticed Jisung’s rapid breaths and the tightness in his expression. “Jisung… are you okay?” Felix’s voice was gentle but strained, unable to hide his worry. “What’s going on?”

Jisung couldn’t find the words. His heart pounded, and his omega’s voice grew louder, crying out for comfort, for closeness, for something that could ease the unbearable fear of being left alone. His hands began to tremble as he clenched the bed sheets, his mind spiraling through a thousand what-ifs.

Felix watched him, his expression torn. “I’m not leaving you,” he promised softly, trying to reassure Jisung despite his own limited freedom in his bed. He couldn’t reach Jisung, couldn’t offer him any physical comfort, but he radiated calm as best he could, hoping Jisung might sense it.

But the panic was relentless, overriding every effort Felix made to console him. Jisung’s breaths grew shorter, almost shallow, and he knew he was losing control. All he could think was that he needed to be near Felix, needed to hold onto him so that he wouldn’t vanish. His body moved on its own, standing up and crossing the short distance to Felix’s bed before he even registered what he was doing.

Felix’s eyes went wide, watching as Jisung climbed into his bed, trembling hands reaching for him, desperate for the contact that his omega craved. He didn’t pull away, but there was an unmistakable hint of nervousness in his gaze as he allowed Jisung to settle next to him.

Jisung buried his face in Felix’s neck, taking in the familiar, comforting scent that seemed to wrap around him like a blanket. His omega quieted slightly, soothed by the closeness, though the desperation still simmered underneath. He wanted to say something, anything to explain himself, but all he could manage was a choked, “Please… don’t leave me.”

Felix’s body tensed slightly at the intensity of Jisung’s plea, but he forced a gentle smile, his hand lifting to rest on Jisung’s back. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “I promise.”

But Jisung’s omega wasn’t satisfied with words alone. His instincts took over as he moved closer, practically curling up on top of Felix, his face nuzzling into the crook of Felix’s neck. He could feel Felix’s pulse under his lips, steady and calming, and he sighed, letting the sound soothe him as he pressed his lips lightly against Felix’s scent gland, a soft, instinctive kiss.

Felix gasped, his breath catching as Jisung’s actions registered. “Jisung…?” His voice was hesitant, yet there was a hint of understanding as he gently placed his hand over Jisung’s, grounding him.

Jisung’s face burned with embarrassment, but his omega instincts overpowered his self-consciousness. He let out a low whine, pressing closer, his lips moving against Felix’s skin as he begged in a quiet, desperate voice, “I’ll be good, I promise. Just don’t… don’t leave me.” The words tumbled out, messy and unfiltered, but they carried the raw truth of his fear, his longing.

For a moment, Felix didn’t respond, clearly caught off guard by the intensity of Jisung’s plea. But then he softened, his hand moving slowly, carefully over Jisung’s back in a soothing rhythm. “I’m right here,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet reassurance. “I’m not going to leave you.”

The steady warmth of Felix’s touch calmed him slightly, though his omega continued to tremble, clinging to Felix with a fierce need that he barely understood himself. He was vaguely aware of his body growing warm, his skin prickling with a heat that went beyond simple embarrassment. His heart raced, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as his vision began to blur around the edges, the world narrowing down to the comforting presence of the omega in his arms.

“Jisung,” Felix’s voice broke through the haze, and he glanced up, seeing the concerned look in his eyes. “Are you… are you going into heat?”

Jisung opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a soft whine as he buried his face back into Felix’s neck, unwilling to let go even for a moment. The thought of separating from Felix, of moving even an inch away, felt unbearable.

Jisung’s heart pounded, the panic and warmth swirling together into a mix of emotions he couldn’t separate or make sense of. Felix’s question lingered in his mind, and he realized with a shock that Felix was probably right—he was slipping into a heat, pulled forward by the overwhelming need for closeness and comfort. His skin felt feverish, his muscles tense, and his thoughts unfocused. But all he knew, all he could hold onto, was Felix.

“Jisung,” Felix whispered, voice softer and steadier than before, as though he was trying to ground him. “You need to let me call the nurse, okay? They can help… make you feel better.”

Jisung tensed, his instincts rejecting the idea. The nurse’s presence meant distance, meant he might have to let go of Felix, even if only for a moment. His hand tightened where it clutched at Felix’s shirt, a soft whimper escaping him as he shook his head, his omega side desperately afraid of losing the only sense of safety he’d found. Felix’s hand was warm and steady on his back, grounding him, and he clung to that touch as though it were a lifeline.

Felix tried again, his tone coaxing and gentle. “Just a little bit, Jisung. I’m not going anywhere, but I need to press the button, okay?”

But Jisung couldn’t bear it; his mind was spiraling, his fear too strong. It twisted his logic until even the suggestion felt like a rejection, as if Felix was saying he didn’t want him, didn’t want him close. The rejection cut deeper than he’d thought possible, and his breathing turned shallow, a wave of anxiety rising with every panicked breath he took. His vision blurred further, his mind fuzzy and fevered, unable to find clarity amidst the storm of emotions.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and Jeongin stepped in, his concerned gaze instantly zeroing in on them. His presence jolted Jisung out of his haze, his omega instincts flaring up in a fierce rush. Jeongin was an alpha—a familiar one, but an alpha all the same. Every nerve in Jisung’s body reacted to the perceived threat, his omega desperate to protect the bond he felt with Felix, to make sure no one could take him away.

A low, instinctual growl slipped from Jisung’s throat as he instinctively shifted, shielding Felix from Jeongin with his body. His mind barely registered Jeongin’s surprised expression as his gaze darkened, his omega asserting control, seeking to guard Felix with everything he had.

Jeongin lifted his hands slowly, his voice calm but edged with worry. “It’s okay, Jisung. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m just going to get the nurse, okay?” He spoke in a steady, reassuring tone, trying to soothe Jisung without getting too close.

But Jisung’s omega wasn’t appeased. It demanded more, demanded Jeongin stay back, and he hunched over Felix protectively, his breathing heavy. He could feel Felix tense beneath him, but instead of pulling away, Felix placed a gentle hand on Jisung’s shoulder, offering silent comfort as he leaned in close, his voice soft against Jisung’s ear. “It’s okay, Jisung. Jeongin won’t hurt you. He’s just trying to help.”

Jisung’s gaze flickered back to Jeongin, still watching warily, but Felix’s words were slowly seeping through his panic. The steady tone, the familiar warmth, the way Felix’s touch never left him—it all started to break through the fog in his mind, calming him just enough to dull the edge of his fear.

Jeongin took a cautious step back, his face full of concern. “I’ll go get the nurse,” he said softly, making sure his movements were slow and non-threatening as he stepped out of the room.

As the door closed behind Jeongin, Jisung felt a flicker of relief, his tense muscles slowly relaxing as he refocused on Felix. His omega was still on high alert, but the immediate threat was gone, leaving behind only the exhaustion and vulnerability he’d been trying to suppress.

Felix’s hand started rubbing gentle circles on Jisung’s back, easing some of the tension out of his shoulders. “You’re safe,” he murmured, his tone reassuring, as if trying to soothe away the panic still lingering in Jisung’s heart. “It’s just us. You don’t have to worry.”

The warmth of Felix’s voice and the steady rhythm of his breathing slowly grounded Jisung, the world settling back into focus. His heart was still racing, but it wasn’t quite as overwhelming. The comfort of Felix’s touch was like a balm on his raw nerves, easing the ache in his chest, and he leaned into it, breathing in Felix’s calming scent.

They stayed like that for a while, Jisung curled up on top of Felix, letting the comfort of the moment wash over him. The fear was still there, lingering in the back of his mind, but for now, it was manageable. Felix didn’t push him to talk or move; he just held him, his presence solid and unwavering, a quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone.

But before long, the door opened again, and his nurse stepped inside, moving quickly but with a gentle smile that aimed to reassure him. She approached slowly, her gaze calm and steady, though she carried a needle in one hand. “Hi, Jisung,” she said softly, her voice kind. “I just need to give you a heat suppressor, okay? It’ll help make you feel a little better.”

At the sight of the needle, Jisung’s omega stirred again, fear sparking in his chest, and he instinctively started to move away. But his nurse was patient, her voice soft as she held out a hand in a soothing gesture. “You’re safe. This won’t hurt, and I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Jisung’s gaze darted to Felix, uncertainty making him hesitate. But Felix gave him a small nod, his hand gently squeezing Jisung’s arm. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his eyes full of quiet assurance. “I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

Jisung took a shaky breath, his nerves still raw, but he forced himself to stay still, trusting Felix’s calming presence. His nurse moved closer, her hand gentle as she took his arm, her touch steady and unthreatening. She spoke to him in a soothing tone as she prepared the injection, her calm demeanor helping to ease his anxiety.

As she pressed the needle into his arm, Jisung tensed, but Felix’s hand stayed on his arm, grounding him with a gentle, reassuring touch. The injection stung briefly, but the nurse kept her movements smooth and steady, her voice quiet and calming. “That’s it, all done. You did really well, Jisung.”

A wave of drowsiness began to wash over him almost immediately, his eyelids growing heavy as the heat suppressor took effect. His omega instincts dulled, the urgency and fear fading, leaving behind only exhaustion. His body felt leaden, his mind hazy, and he leaned more heavily against Felix, letting out a quiet sigh as his eyes began to close.

Felix’s hand was still rubbing gentle circles on his back, his voice soft and comforting as he whispered, “Just rest now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jisung drifted into sleep, lulled by Felix’s steady heartbeat and the lingering warmth of his touch, the last of his fear melting away as he slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber.

The wind brushed against his face with a tender touch, carrying the scent of salt and wildflowers as it played with his hair. He sat on a cliff, the vast expanse of the sky and sea stretching endlessly before him. The sun hung low, painting the horizon with hues of gold, crimson, and violet, each color bleeding into the next like a delicate watercolor masterpiece. The soft crash of waves in the distance blended harmoniously with the melody he strummed on his guitar.

Jisung cradled the instrument in his hands as if it were an extension of himself, the worn wood warm against his fingertips. Each note he played seemed to resonate with the wind, carrying his melody far and wide. His notebook, its pages filled with scrawled lyrics and sketches of moments he couldn’t quite capture in words, lay open beside him. As he played, he hummed softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, soothing the ache he hadn’t realized he carried.

This place was peaceful. It felt like everything he’d ever wanted but had never known how to find.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the wind lift his melody higher, and when he opened them, he saw movement in the distance. Felix. Felix, with hair like spun gold catching the sun’s dying light, was spinning and laughing, his arms outstretched as he danced to the rhythm of Jisung’s song. Every movement was fluid, like water reflecting light. Each step he took seemed to make the earth itself come alive, the grass bending and swaying in reverence around him.

Felix’s laughter was carried by the wind, a joyful, unrestrained sound that wrapped around Jisung’s heart and made it ache in a way he didn’t fully understand. It was happiness distilled into a moment, and it made everything else fade—the fears, the pain, the uncertainty. Here, there was only this, and it was enough.

But he wasn’t alone. There was someone sitting near Felix, legs crossed as if they were simply enjoying the dance, but their features were obscured by the bright light of the sun behind them. Jisung squinted, trying to make out who it was, but the light was blinding, their form no more than a silhouette. Even so, a part of him felt at peace.

The wind shifted, catching Jisung’s attention, and from somewhere behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of laughter. It was soft at first, like the tinkling of bells, but it grew louder, fuller, a chorus of voices blending together. Warmth bloomed in his chest; these voices felt familiar, comforting, like an embrace he couldn’t see but could feel deep in his soul.

He wanted to turn around, to see who was behind him, to share in whatever happiness they were experiencing. But no matter how much he tried, his body refused to move. It was as if his gaze were locked in place, his focus drawn inexorably forward. All he could see was Felix, radiant and alive, dancing as if he were weightless, as if the world itself revolved around his joy.

Jisung’s fingers continued to strum, his guitar vibrating with life beneath his touch. The music grew softer, more tender, each note carrying the emotions he couldn’t put into words. His chest felt heavy, but in a way that was almost sweet—a fullness, a reminder that he was alive, that he could feel so deeply.

Felix spun one last time, his movements slowing as he came to a stop, and he turned to face Jisung. Their eyes met across the distance, and for a breathless moment, it felt as if the world held still. Felix’s smile softened, his eyes shining with something Jisung couldn’t name but felt in every part of him. It was as if Felix saw him—truly saw him—and accepted every part, even the pieces Jisung tried to hide.

Jisung’s throat tightened, and his hands stilled on the strings. The wind whispered around him, carrying with it a sense of longing that made his chest ache. He wanted to call out, to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. All he could do was watch as Felix stepped closer to the unknown figure, their outlines blurred by the shifting light.

The wind picked up, tugging at Jisung’s clothes, his hair, but he barely felt it. The melody of his song lingered, echoing in the air around him, even as the last of the light began to fade. The world was bathed in twilight now, the colors deepening, and Felix’s figure became a silhouette, his laughter a memory carried on the breeze.

The people behind him continued to laugh, their presence a comforting weight. He didn’t need to see them to know they were there—to know that, somehow, he wasn’t alone. For now, this was enough. Jisung closed his eyes once more and let the peace of the moment wash over him.

Chapter Text

Jisung woke slowly, the world around him blurry as he blinked his eyes open. He was curled tightly around his chipmunk plush, its familiar softness offering a gentle comfort, and there was another plush—a little chick, yellow and round—tucked against his chest. He buried his face into them, inhaling their comforting scents, and exhaled softly. But as the last threads of sleep faded, a jolt of awareness shot through him.

His gaze darted around the dim room, the shapes around him gradually becoming clearer. The soft hum of machinery, the sterile smell of the hospital, the cool sheets beneath him—everything seemed as it should be. But the bed across from him was empty.

Felix was gone.

Panic tightened in his chest, and his pulse spiked. He sat up quickly, clutching the plushes tighter as his eyes scanned every corner of the room. And as his gaze swept across the room, his heart stilled at the sight of an unfamiliar alpha sitting in a chair near Felix’s bed.

The alpha was dozing, his head tipped back slightly, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each slow breath. He looked imposing even while resting, muscles straining against his shirt, his arms folded across his chest. Jisung’s anxiety spiked, instinct telling him to hide, to retreat from this stranger. Moving carefully, he pulled the thin hospital blanket up to his chin, trying to make himself as small as possible.

As he shifted, the alpha stirred, opening his eyes. For a moment, they simply looked at each other—Jisung with wide, uncertain eyes from behind his blanket, and the alpha with a curious, almost sleepy expression. He didn’t look mean, exactly, but he didn’t seem particularly thrilled to be there either.

Neither of them spoke, the silence stretching out, thick and uncomfortable. The alpha’s gaze didn’t waver, but he didn’t look away either, his expression unreadable. Jisung’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, every instinct telling him to remain hidden. Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Finally, the alpha shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep but oddly gentle. “I’m Changbin. One of Felix’s mates.”

Jisung tightened his grip on the plushes, his body rigid under the covers. He didn’t respond, keeping his gaze low, hoping the alpha would lose interest if he didn’t engage.

The alpha broke the silence again, his voice still low and casual, as though he were talking to an old friend. “You know, I didn’t realize just how uncomfortable these chairs are until now. I think they make them this bad on purpose so people won’t hang around too long.”

Jisung blinked, the strange remark catching him off guard. He peeked out a little more, not responding but feeling a slight curiosity edge out his fear.

“So…they’ve got us on a rotation, by rotation I mean me and Seungmin switching places every few hours,” Changbin said, his tone casual as if they were discussing the weather. “Seungmin and I drew the short straws, but it’s fine. Can’t all crowd Felix, you know?” He chuckled, though it sounded more like a soft huff. “Plus, I don’t think the nurses will want to deal with all of us alphas hovering. They’re already probably annoyed as it is.”

Jisung stayed silent, not daring to look up, but Changbin continued as though he were having a perfectly normal conversation. “This hospital is freezing, by the way. I mean, the AC is one thing, but they keep it on arctic blast in here. Even Seungmin was complaining, and he’s usually all about cooler temps.”

After a while, he finally gathered the courage to speak, his voice barely a whisper. “Where’s Felix?”

Changbin’s easygoing demeanor faltered slightly, his expression softening. He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Felix…he had a bit of a rough night. His condition got worse because of a…scent overdose. His body started rejecting it because it wasn’t one of his mates’ scents. He’s already on his way to another hospital closer to home. They’re getting him ready for the C-section.”

The words landed heavily on Jisung, each one striking with brutal clarity. He felt guilt surge through him, sharp and painful, spreading like a poison. A scent overdose. The realization hit him like a punch—he’d been the one who’d clung to Felix, practically bathing him in his scent, desperate to keep him close, too afraid to lose him. He’d been so scared, so wrapped up in his own fears, that he hadn’t thought about how it might affect Felix.

It was his fault. Felix was gone because of him. Because he hadn’t been able to control himself. His voice trembled, the guilt pouring into every word. “I… I didn’t mean… I was just… I didn’t want to lose him,” Jisung stammered, his words breaking under the weight of his remorse. “I was scared.”

A deep sigh came from Changbin, who watched Jisung carefully. “Hey, it’s alright,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gentleness that somehow made the tension in Jisung’s shoulders ease.

Jisung’s hands began to tremble, and he bit his lip to keep his emotions from spilling over. But Changbin was watching him closely, and he must have seen the guilt etched on Jisung’s face. The alpha leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head before letting out a long, tired sigh.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, his voice calm, almost resigned. “Felix is…strong. He’ll be okay. He has to be.” Changbin’s gaze drifted towards the door, his expression hardening slightly, as though he was willing himself to believe the words he’d just spoken. “He’s got too many people counting on him to give up now.”

The silence settled again, thick and heavy. Jisung wanted to believe him, to feel some small measure of comfort in the alpha’s words. But the guilt clung to him, relentless and suffocating.

Jisung shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Changbin’s words, his mind swirling with a confusing mix of emotions. He felt a tight ache in his chest, a blend of guilt, worry, and the crushing feeling of powerlessness. Felix was gone, in worse condition because of him, and there was nothing he could do to help.

Changbin stretched his legs out, settling back in his chair with a sigh. His calm, almost stoic presence was a strange comfort in the tense silence that filled the room. After a few moments, Jisung managed to whisper, “Why…why did you and Seungmin stay?”

Changbin’s gaze softened, and a small, reassuring smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Because, we’re not complete assholes, we’re not going to leave you by yourself.” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Felix made that very clear, even while he was…well, he was in bad shape. He could barely talk, but he insisted on making sure you weren’t left alone.”

Jisung’s eyes stung with sudden, overwhelming emotion. The image of Felix, barely able to speak, still finding the strength to think of him—it was almost too much to bear. Jisung felt a lump form in his throat, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. His grip on the plush toys tightened, grounding him just enough to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

The silence stretched again, this time softer, warmer. Jisung stole a glance at Changbin, who seemed lost in thought. He could see hints of exhaustion etched into the alpha’s features, the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped slightly as he leaned back in his chair. Changbin might have looked intimidating at first glance, but there was a gentleness in his expression that Jisung hadn’t expected.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, and Seungmin entered, his arms full of snacks and a couple of energy drinks balanced precariously in one hand. Jisung felt a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of the other omega. Seungmin had been one of the few people who’d made him feel safe since everything happened, and he was silently grateful for his presence.

“About time,” Changbin muttered as he accepted a drink from Seungmin, who rolled his eyes in response. “I thought you’d fallen asleep somewhere in the snack aisle.”

“Please,” Seungmin scoffed, cringing as he perched himself on the edge of Felix’s bed. “Unlike you, I actually know how to make it back to a room without getting lost. And by the way, this bed’s as comfortable as a sack of bricks,” Seungmin muttered, wrinkling his nose. “Why’d they think it was okay to put these in a hospital? Don’t they know we’re all suffering enough as it is?”

Changbin scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. “You think I’d complain about something that minor when we’re all in crisis mode? You have some fucked up priorities, Seungmin.”

“Oh, so you’re a saint now?” Seungmin shot back, rolling his eyes as he bit into a snack with exaggerated indifference. The teasing words rolled off their tongues naturally, like a language they’d both been fluent in for years.

Gathering his courage, he cleared his throat softly and asked, “How…how did you two meet?”

Both Seungmin and Changbin paused, looking over at him with faint surprise before glancing at each other. Seungmin sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned back. Seungmin gave Changbin a sidelong glance, his expression somewhere between affectionate and exasperated. “Too long, probably.”

Changbin’s expression turned amused. “You make it sound so tragic.” The alpha said before he added, “Six years,” Changbin corrected with a proud grin. “High school sweethearts, if you can believe that.”

Seungmin snorted, crossing his arms. “I only dated him because he wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. He’s relentless when he wants something.” He said this with a hint of a smile, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that softened his usual stoic demeanor.

Changbin gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Is that really how you’re going to tell the story? Here I thought you couldn’t resist my charming personality and sheer biceps.”

“Right,” Seungmin replied dryly, shaking his head but unable to hide the fondness in his eyes. “Your ‘sheer biceps’ and that whiny voice of yours. Really irresistible.” Seungmin scoffed, looking away with a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks, before he added, “You were lucky I even looked your way. I should’ve turned you down, made you wait a bit longer,” he mumbled, but there was no bite to his words.

It was subtle, but Jisung could see it now—the affection, the way they both seemed to relax, to soften in each other’s presence. He found himself captivated by the way they fit together, like pieces of a puzzle. They were different, but somehow that made them complement each other perfectly, balancing out in a way Jisung hadn’t thought possible

After a beat, Jisung managed to ask, “How long…have I been asleep?”

Seungmin glanced at Changbin, and then back at Jisung. “Two days,” he said quietly, his tone softening. “You needed the rest.”

Two days. The realization made Jisung’s heart sink further. He’d been asleep while Felix’s condition worsened, oblivious to everything happening around him. He swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at him as he mumbled, “I’m sorry…that you’re both stuck here because of me.”

Seungmin’s face softened, and he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t apologize. Felix would have our heads if we left you here alone, anyway.”

His words brought a faint warmth to Jisung’s chest, easing some of the tension. He glanced between the two of them, feeling a hesitant sense of comfort begin to settle. For the first time, he allowed himself to take in their presence fully, noticing the subtle details—the way Changbin’s scent carried a faint note of cedar and smoke, grounding and warm, while Seungmin’s held a hint of chamomile, soothing and familiar.

They sat in silence for a while, Jisung finally allowing himself to relax, the soft scents and steady presence of the two easing some of his lingering nerves. But the calm was interrupted when Changbin’s phone buzzed, and he answered with a quick, “Hey, Chan.”

Jisung watched Changbin’s face as he listened, his expression shifting, the slight tension in his jaw suggesting the news wasn’t good. After a moment, Changbin murmured, “Got it. We’ll be ready.”

As he ended the call, Changbin’s gaze settled on Seungmin, and the solemnity in his expression sent a chill through him. “They just got to the other hospital,” Changbin said softly. “Felix is about to go into surgery for the baby.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.

Chapter Text

Jisung sat in his hospital bed, fingers digging into the soft plushie he held to his chest. Across the room, Changbin was hunched over his phone, brow furrowed as he listened to Chan’s voice on the speaker. Chan’s words were a steady, calm murmur, but Jisung couldn’t make out all the details. Words like “stable,” “recovery,” and “pup’s health” drifted through the room like faint echoes, leaving Jisung guessing what they meant for Felix.

Seungmin, seated on the opposite bed, appeared almost relaxed at first glance, his legs folded up in a loose cross-legged position. But the closer Jisung looked, the more he noticed little cracks in Seungmin’s calm. The way his hand dipped into the chip bag repeatedly, more out of habit than hunger. The way his fingers tapped the edge of his phone in quick, restless bursts between each bite. His jaw tensed slightly every time Changbin or Chan mentioned Felix, but Seungmin’s face remained carefully blank, as though he were putting up an invisible wall between himself and the conversation. Even the way he wiped chip dust on the blanket felt like an attempt to look casual, to pretend he wasn’t wound as tight as a spring.

Jisung’s own heart was pounding, a silent rhythm of worry that only seemed to grow louder with each minute. He hugged the plushie closer, its softness a small comfort as he strained to catch every word from the phone call. He felt a flicker of hope when he heard “stable,” but then “monitoring closely” came right after, making his stomach twist with worry. Felix didn’t deserve another setback, especially now, with the pup so close to being born.

As Chan’s voice continued in its soft, low tone, Seungmin suddenly glanced over at Jisung and caught his eye. With a flick of his hand, Seungmin offered him the chip bag, his face twisting into a half-smile that looked almost forced. “Want some?” he asked, his tone light, yet laced with something Jisung couldn’t quite name. He sounded casual, but his eyes held a tiredness that couldn’t be masked, a hint of worry lingering in their depths.

Jisung shook his head quickly, though he appreciated the gesture. His stomach was too knotted to think about food right now. Instead, he hugged his plushie tighter and glanced down, hoping Seungmin hadn’t noticed the anxious look on his face.

Eventually, Chan’s voice faded, replaced by the soft beep of the call ending. Changbin let out a sigh and set his phone down, rubbing his face as if he could scrub away the tension that had settled there. His shoulders were slumped, the weight of worry visibly pulling him down. With a muttered, “I need to stretch my legs,” he got up and headed toward the door, moving with the heavy, deliberate steps of someone trying not to let the stress show too much.

Seungmin’s lips quirked into a smirk, though there was a faint tension in his eyes. “Careful, Changbin. Don’t pull a muscle.” he called, voice dripping with feigned nonchalance.

Changbin snorted, glancing over his shoulder with a tired grin. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking, Seungmin. Just don’t leave the hospital out of snacks while I’m gone.”

The door closed behind him, leaving the room in a quiet that felt strangely oppressive. Jisung’s fingers played absently with the edge of his blanket as he watched Seungmin, who seemed to have deflated slightly now that Changbin was gone. Seungmin’s hand reached into the bag of chips again, and he ate slowly, his gaze fixed on the wall as though he were deep in thought.

There was a question building in Jisung’s chest, a question he was almost too scared to ask. But something about the stillness of the room, the tension in Seungmin’s posture, made him feel like maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed answers. Gathering a little courage, he took a shaky breath and asked, “Do… do you know who the pup’s father is?”

Seungmin stilled, his hand hovering above the chip bag for a moment before he slowly lowered it. He didn’t look at Jisung right away, his gaze remaining fixed on some invisible point across the room. For a moment, Jisung worried he’d made a mistake by asking—that maybe he’d pushed too far.

Finally, Seungmin glanced over, and a faint smile pulled at his lips. “We won’t really know for sure until the pup’s born,” he said softly, his voice more measured than usual. “Newborn pups have a mix of both their parents’ scents. Their own scent doesn’t really come in until later, when they get their secondary gender.”

Jisung nodded, but his curiosity wasn’t fully satisfied. He felt a strange urge to keep talking, to keep prying, though he couldn’t explain why. “Do you have… a guess?” he pressed quietly. “About who the biological father might be?”

Seungmin’s smile tightened, and he looked down at the chip bag in his lap, his fingers tapping it absently. “I have a guess,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his tone. “But if I’m wrong… well, I hate being wrong.” He gave a small, humorless chuckle, the sound tinged with a strange mixture of fondness and sadness. “So, for now, I’ll keep it to myself.”

Jisung wanted to ask more, to keep probing into this small, fragile window of vulnerability that Seungmin had let slip through. But the questions lodged in his throat, weighed down by the same nervousness that had been plaguing him since the call ended. He didn’t want to push too hard, didn’t want to pry open a door that Seungmin was clearly struggling to keep closed.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken worries and half-formed thoughts. Jisung glanced away, feeling a strange mix of comfort and anxiety in the quiet. He wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that Felix and the pup would pull through, but a lingering doubt gnawed at him.

The quiet hung between them, calm yet heavy, as Jisung continued to process everything Seungmin had said. He was still clinging to the plushie, his fingers unconsciously twisting its soft fabric. He barely noticed when the door opened and his nurse walked in, accompanied by a doctor carrying a clipboard. The nurse gave Jisung a gentle smile, a practiced look of reassurance that he’d come to recognize during his time in the hospital.

“Hello, Jisung,” she greeted, her voice warm as she approached. “Let’s take a look at how you’re doing today.”

Jisung shifted a bit, sitting up straighter, his eyes darting to Seungmin, who watched quietly from Felix’s bed with an expression that was unreadable but somehow comforting. The nurse checked his temperature and blood pressure with quick, efficient movements, noting the readings on her small chart. She moved to his arm next, carefully examining the fading bruises and nearly healed wounds. Jisung’s gaze fell to his hands, feeling strangely vulnerable, like he was on display.

“You’re healing up really well,” the nurse remarked, breaking the silence. “Just a few more things, and I think you’ll be ready to go home.”

Her words echoed in his mind—ready to go home. The prospect of leaving, of stepping outside the safety of this room, sent a ripple of uncertainty through him. He wasn’t sure where he’d go or what he’d do; he felt a pang of fear that tightened his chest, reminding him of just how much he still didn’t understand about his future.

The nurse moved to remove his IV line, her touch gentle but firm. As she worked, Jisung’s doctor cleared his throat and looked at him with a calm, professional gaze. “We’ll be prescribing you some mild pain relievers,” he explained. “Nothing too strong, just enough to ease any residual pain you might feel while adjusting to being up and moving around.”

Jisung nodded, trying to process this new information. His mind was spinning, half-focused on the doctor’s words and half lost in his own worries. He felt an urge to ask where he was supposed to go, if they expected him to walk out of the hospital with no real plan, but the question lodged in his throat, too difficult to voice.

The doctor seemed to sense Jisung’s hesitation and added, “We’ll also need you to come in for monthly checkups, just to make sure your recovery stays on track. But for now, you’re healthy enough to leave whenever you’re ready.”

Seungmin, who had been sitting quietly through all this, suddenly perked up. “So he’s officially allowed to leave, right?” he asked, his tone nonchalant but with a hint of something sharper beneath the surface.

The doctor nodded. “That’s right. He’s cleared to go.” He paused, studying Jisung with a soft but scrutinizing gaze. “Jisung, do you have somewhere to go?” he asked gently. “We can arrange for transportation to a nearby omega sanctuary if needed. There are options available to help you get back on your feet.”

The words struck Jisung, leaving him feeling oddly exposed. His mind raced, torn between the relief of having somewhere to go and the dread of facing the unknown alone. He hesitated, unsure of how to answer.

Before Jisung could reply, Seungmin cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly, addressing the doctor. “He has somewhere to go,” Seungmin said, a firm edge to his voice that surprised Jisung. There was an unmistakable confidence in the way he spoke, as if this decision had been settled long before this moment.

The doctor’s eyebrows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face, but he didn’t press further. He simply nodded, noting something on his clipboard. “Alright, then. I’ll have the pharmacy prepare his medication. You’ll just need to stop by  and pick it up.” With a final, warm nod toward Jisung, the doctor and nurse wished him well and exited the room.

As the door clicked shut behind them, the room felt quieter, the weight of the recent conversation settling over them both. Jisung’s heart was pounding, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Somewhere to go, Seungmin had said, with such certainty. But what did that mean? Where could he possibly have to go if he had no family, no connections outside this hospital room?

Seungmin’s sigh broke the silence. He stretched, reaching his arms above his head, his body visibly relaxing now that they were alone. He glanced over at Jisung, offering him a small, crooked smile. “How does it feel to be getting out of here?” he asked, his voice laced with an attempt at casual cheer.

Jisung shifted, still clutching the plushie tightly. He didn’t know how to answer. “I… don’t really know,” he admitted, his voice small. It was true—he didn’t feel ready to leave, didn’t feel ready to face the uncertainty waiting outside this room. The sanctuary seemed like the most likely option, but the thought of being there alone filled him with a quiet dread.

Changbin walked back in, he glanced between them, picking up on the shift in the mood almost immediately. “What’s going on?” he asked, glancing at Seungmin.

“Jisung’s cleared to leave,” Seungmin replied with a small grin. “We just have to pick up his meds, then we’re good to go.”

A genuine smile lit up Changbin’s face, the tension from earlier easing slightly. “That’s great,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll get your things.” He moved to the small closet where Jisung’s few belongings had been kept, quickly gathering them into a small bag.

Jisung watched as Changbin packed, feeling a strange blend of anxiety and anticipation building in his chest. As he watched Changbin pull out a clean set of clothes, he felt a wave of nervousness wash over him, knowing that soon he’d be leaving this room for good. He took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm as he accepted the clothes, retreating to the bathroom to change.

Once inside, he closed the door and took a moment to collect himself, clutching the edges of the sink as he stared at his reflection. He could feel his heart racing, his mind flooded with questions and uncertainties. The idea of leaving, of stepping out into a world that felt foreign and unpredictable, was almost overwhelming.

With slow, steady movements, he changed into the clothes, the fabric feeling strangely unfamiliar yet comforting. Taking one last deep breath, he pushed open the bathroom door, stepping back into the room where Seungmin and Changbin waited.

Jisung took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding with each movement. Changbin threw the bag over his shoulder, motioning toward the door with an encouraging nod. “Ready when you are, Jisung.”

As he fell into step behind them, every muscle in his body felt tense. He kept his grip tight on the discharge papers the doctor had given him, using them as a focal point to keep from overthinking. Step by step, he followed Changbin and Seungmin out of the hospital room he had spent weeks in. It

As they reached the hospital exit, the cool evening air hit Jisung, its unfamiliar chill sinking through him. Changbin pushed open the glass door, stepping into the darkened parking lot. Jisung hesitated, his feet freezing for a second as he stared at the stretch of concrete outside. The world seemed so vast, so open, and it unnerved him. Every nerve in his body felt on edge, his senses heightened to every sound and every flicker of movement around them.

“Come on,” Seungmin said softly, breaking the silence as he reached back and gently touched Jisung’s shoulder. His touch was light but steady, grounding Jisung in the moment. “Just a little further.”

With a shaky breath, Jisung nodded, willing himself to keep moving. They made their way to Changbin’s car, parked a few spaces from the entrance.

Changbin unlocked the car with a beep, and Jisung’s gaze darted to the back seat, anxiety simmering as he tried to push away his racing thoughts. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a car, besides the time in the van; the idea of being enclosed in such a small space with others made his skin prickle.

As if sensing his nerves, Seungmin opened the back door for him, offering a soft, encouraging smile. “You can sit in the back. Changbin’s not a bad driver,” he teased.

Nodding, Jisung ducked into the back seat, clutching the discharge papers to his chest as he settled in. He caught his reflection in the window for a brief moment, seeing the anxiety etched across his face, and took a shaky breath, willing himself to calm down.

Changbin and Seungmin climbed into the front seats, both glancing back at him with reassuring expressions. Changbin gave a little grin as he adjusted the rearview mirror, his voice casual but with a hint of excitement. “Buckle up, everyone,” he announced cheerily.

A soft melody came on the radio. Changbin hummed along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, his movements relaxed and easy. He looked out the window, watching the buildings fly by as they drove past them. He tried to focus on the rhythm of the music instead of the anxious thoughts swirling in his mind.

Before long, they reached  pharmacy and picked up Jisung’s prescription, Changbin giving the pharmacist a quick thanks before tucking the bag into the glove compartment. When they pulled back onto the road, the city lights began to fade, giving way to a quieter, more open stretch of road.

Jisung had been staring out the window, watching the shadows of trees pass by, when he finally gathered the courage to speak. His voice was small and hesitant, as if he were afraid of the answer. “Are… are you taking me to a sanctuary?”

Seungmin’s scoff was immediate, and he turned in his seat, a faint smirk on his lips. “A sanctuary?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “No way. We’re taking you to Felix. We’re taking you home.”

Jisung’s heart lurched at the word. Home. The idea felt so foreign, so unfamiliar, that it took him a moment to even understand what Seungmin meant. Home wasn’t a word he had thought much about, not since everything had changed, not since he’d lost the place he once called home.

He felt a flicker of relief beneath his anxiety, though it was tangled with fear. He didn’t fully know what home meant to them, what it might look like, or if he’d even belong. But the thought of being near Felix, of being somewhere safe, eased some of the tightness in his chest.

“How… how far away is the hospital?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Changbin’s grin widened as he glanced at Jisung through the rearview mirror. “Only nine hours,” he announced cheerfully, as if it were no big deal.

The car settled into a comfortable hum as Changbin fiddled with the radio, a bright, pop tune filling the car. Changbin turned up the volume and grinned, tossing a glance back at Jisung through the rearview mirror. “Get ready Ji, you’re about to hear the vocal talent of the century!”

Jisung blinked, and before he knew it, Changbin had launched into an enthusiastic, off-key version of the song, complete with dramatic air-drumming on the steering wheel. The beat echoed through the car, and Jisung couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face.

Seungmin rolled his eyes but didn’t stop him. “Don’t quit your job, Changbin,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t hate on perfection, Min!” Changbin shot back playfully, his eyes twinkling in the dim lights of the car.

“Perfection?” Seungmin scoffed, though Jisung could tell the banter was a distraction, one that Seungmin seemed to need. Even with his calm exterior, there was a tightness in Seungmin’s shoulders. Jisung could feel it, that thin tension just beneath Seungmin’s words.

Changbin noticed too. “Hey, why don’t you join in, Seungmin? Show Jisung that golden voice,” he teased, giving Seungmin a nudge with his elbow.

Seungmin scrunched his nose. “If I join in, it’ll only make you sound worse by comparison,” he replied dryly, wiping his chip-dusted hands on his jeans. But despite his words, he hummed along under his breath, almost reluctantly.

The two continued their bickering, Changbin raising his voice in exaggerated singing, and Seungmin offering sarcastic remarks between lines. It was loud, but for Jisung, it felt strangely comforting. It was a slice of normalcy he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Nestling into his seat, Jisung let their voices wash over him, letting himself drift into a fragile feeling of peace as they drove into the night.

As the night wore on, Jisung felt his eyes growing heavy, his body finally beginning to relax. The low hum of the engine, the rhythmic flicker of passing streetlights, and the gentle sound of their voices lulled him into a state of quiet calm. He leaned back against the seat, and let himself drift, lulled to sleep by the warmth that surrounded him.

Chapter Text

Jisung’s eyelids fluttered open, his body aching from the cramped position he’d been curled up in. His neck throbbed, and his legs were stiff from hours of awkwardly squeezing himself into the backseat. He shifted slowly, wincing as he stretched out, trying to ease the knots that had formed during his sleep. The car was quiet except for the low hum of the engine and the soft music playing through the speakers. The sky outside was still dark, painted with hints of early morning, and streetlights cast long shadows that flickered in the car.

He glanced toward the driver’s seat. Seungmin was behind the wheel now, fingers tapping lightly to the beat of the music, his face focused but calm. Changbin, who had driven most of the night, was now slumped against the window, arms crossed, breathing steadily in sleep. For a moment, Jisung watched them both, taking in the ease with which they navigated through this moment together. They made it look effortless, being part of something, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

Jisung looked out the window, his stomach twisting with nerves. The reality of where they were headed settled heavily on him, like a weight pressing down on his chest. Soon, he would be in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people who were practically strangers. People he had barely met, and some he didn’t even remember. The idea of moving in with them, of trying to carve out a place for himself within their tightly-knit bond, felt surreal. He took a deep, shaky breath, feeling his fingers begin to tremble.

“Seungmin?” he whispered, voice barely audible in the quiet of the car.

Seungmin’s eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, catching Jisung’s reflection. “Yeah?”

“How much longer?” Jisung asked, attempting to sound casual but knowing his voice betrayed the anxiety gnawing at him.

Seungmin offered a small smile, one that looked almost reassuring in the dim light. “About twenty minutes,” he replied. “We’re nearly there.”

Jisung nodded slowly, though his chest tightened further with each passing second. He glanced down at the seat beside him, where his plush chipmunk lay. He reached over and picked it up, hugging it tightly. Next to the chipmunk was a little chick plush, one Changbin took from Jeongin because he knew how much Jisung liked the chipmunk plushie. Jisung appreciated the gesture, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered beneath the surface. He was starting over, and all he had to his name was a plushie.

No phone. No clothes. No home that felt safe or familiar. Just the chipmunk and whatever kindness Felix’s mates were willing to show him.

Seungmin seemed to notice his silence. “You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, a hint of concern slipping through.

Jisung forced a small nod. “Yeah… just nervous,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

Seungmin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, keeping time with the soft music. “I get it,” he said quietly, not pushing Jisung to say more than he was ready to. “It’s a lot. But you’re not alone, alright? We’re here with you. Just take it one step at a time.”

Jisung managed a small smile, though the knot of anxiety remained. He wanted to believe Seungmin’s words, to trust that this transition would be easy. But as he watched the buildings and cars blur by outside the window, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was stepping into something he wasn’t ready for. That he was still too broken, too lost to be part of anyone’s life again.

After a while, he mustered the courage to break the silence again. “Has there… has there been any news?” he asked, trying to sound casual but feeling the tension in his own voice.

Seungmin’s expression flickered, and he shook his head. “Not yet,” he said, glancing in the mirror at Jisung. “But no news is good news, right?”

Jisung tried to nod, but he felt his chest tighten again. He’d barely been able to sleep the night before, his mind racing with worry about Felix. He didn’t know all the details, but he knew enough to feel the weight of the uncertainty pressing on him. The thought of something happening to Felix was enough to send his nerves spiraling again.

Just then, the car hit a hard bump, jolting him from his thoughts. Changbin let out a groggy groan, his head snapping up as he blinked around, disoriented.

“What the—Seungmin! Are you trying to kill us with your terrible driving?” Changbin grumbled, rubbing his eyes and looking out the window in confusion.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Maybe if you had stayed awake to navigate, we wouldn’t have hit the bump,” he shot back, tapping the gas pedal just enough to make the car jolt a little, grinning as Changbin clutched the seat with a slightly panicked look.

“Whoa! Take it easy!” Changbin yelped, shooting him an exasperated glare. “I swear, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Seungmin only shrugged, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Maybe if you didn’t complain so much, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t mind him,” Changbin muttered to Jisung, a tired grin on his face. “Seungmin likes to keep everyone on edge. Makes him feel powerful or something.”

Seungmin scoffed, glancing in the mirror at Jisung with an amused smile. “Only because some people make it too easy.”

Jisung hugged his plushie a little tighter, feeling the edges of his nervousness fade as he listened to them. There was a warmth here, something that made the cold dread in his chest loosen just a bit.

The car grew quiet again as they neared the city. Buildings loomed closer, becoming taller and more imposing, their lights reflecting off the glass and casting faint glows into the early morning mist. Jisung’s stomach flipped as he watched the cityscape get closer with each passing streetlight. Seungmin continued to hum softly to the music, and Changbin had pulled out his phone, scrolling aimlessly, but Jisung felt his nerves settle back in, heavier than before.

He pressed his fingers against the fabric of his plush chipmunk, squeezing it tightly as he fought to push down the rising wave of uncertainty. It wasn’t just about the new place, the new people—it was about everything he’d lost. He thought about the belongings he’d left behind, the parts of himself he’d been forced to abandon.

The thought brought a shiver of anxiety down his spine. Could he even handle this? Living with strangers, finding his place in an established family that already had a rhythm and a bond that he was far from understanding? His fingers absently traced the stitching on the plush as he tried to center himself, to remind himself that he was safe now, but the doubts only seemed to grow louder.

Seungmin’s voice broke the silence. “You’re doing great, you know,” he said, not looking back but his tone gentle, understanding.

Jisung blinked, glancing up. “What do you mean?”

“Coming with us, trusting us enough to start over like this,” Seungmin replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “I know it’s hard. It would be for anyone, especially after everything you’ve been through. But you’re doing it. That’s worth something.”

Jisung swallowed, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and unease at Seungmin’s words. It was like he knew exactly what Jisung was feeling, exactly what doubts were swirling through his mind. He wanted to say thank you, to express how much those words meant, but the emotions were tangled up inside him, making it difficult to speak. Instead, he simply nodded, hoping Seungmin understood.

They drove in silence for a few more minutes until they hit another hard bump in the road. The car jolted, and Changbin let out a dramatic groan, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Seriously, Seungmin, do you have to hit every bump in the city?” he complained, rubbing his head with a wince.

Seungmin only smirked, not bothering to look at him. “Maybe if you didn’t complain about my driving every five minutes, I’d try a little harder to avoid them.”

Changbin shot him an irritated look, his face scrunched up in mock annoyance. “I’m just saying, I’d like to make it to the hospital in one piece. Is that too much to ask?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, tapping the steering wheel a little harder, which only made the car speed up slightly. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

Changbin muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms and leaning back into the seat. He glanced over at Jisung, his expression softening as he caught the nervous look on his face. “Don’t worry, Jisung. Seungmin’s bark is worse than his bite,” he said with a smirk. “Though his driving might be a close second.”

Jisung chuckled, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He appreciated the way Changbin and Seungmin seemed to sense his unease without prying, without pushing him to explain. It was like they understood that he needed time, that he needed to ease into this at his own pace.

The car fell into a comfortable silence again as the hospital came into view, looming just up ahead. Jisung’s heart started to race, each beat a little faster than the last. He forced himself to breathe deeply, focusing on the steady rhythm of Seungmin’s fingers tapping the steering wheel, on the low hum of the engine, anything to ground himself. He knew he had to be strong, had to face this new reality with as much courage as he could muster. But the closer they got, the more daunting it all seemed.

Finally, Seungmin pulled into the hospital parking lot, navigating through rows of cars before finding a spot near the entrance. He parked, turned off the engine, and glanced back at Jisung, offering him a reassuring nod. “Ready?”

Jisung swallowed, his hands clenching his plushie as he tried to gather himself. “I… I think so,” he said softly, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Changbin stretched, yawning as he pushed open his door. “Let’s go then. No use sitting here and worrying ourselves sick,” he said, stepping out of the car with a determined look.

Jisung followed, slipping out of the backseat and hugging his plushie close as he took in the imposing sight of the hospital entrance. He swallowed hard as he followed Seungmin and Changbin toward the entrance. The automatic doors slid open, and they stepped into the sterile, brightly lit lobby.

As they walked down the corridors, Changbin pulled out his phone, and checking a message from Chan. “He said they’re in the waiting room,” he reported.

When they reached the waiting room, Jisung’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes landed on four alphas scattered around the room, each wearing expressions that ranged from anxious to downright exhausted. Chan sat with his legs bouncing, glancing up as they approached, while another alpha paced back and forth, his hands running through his hair. A third alpha sat slumped in his chair, looking irritated, and Jeongin sat beside him, his face drawn with worry.

The moment they stepped in, Jeongin’s gaze shot up, and he quickly rose from his seat, crossing the room in a few quick strides. He wrapped his arms around Seungmin and Changbin in a tight hug, relief visible in his eyes. Changbin clapped him on the back, murmuring something reassuring, while Seungmin gave him a small, comforting smile.

Jisung lingered near the door, feeling like an outsider intruding on a private moment. His gaze flitted nervously around the room, and when his eyes landed on the irritated alpha, his heart skipped a beat. Recognition sparked as he remembered the alpha barging into his hospital room, the harsh questions, the demanding tone. He felt a shiver of fear creep up his spine, his fingers clutching his plushie even tighter as he tried to hide the anxiety that flared up inside him.

Chan noticed him then, offering a gentle wave, his tired eyes softening as they met Jisung’s gaze. Jisung tried to return the gesture, though his hands trembled slightly. He could see the exhaustion etched into Chan’s face, the dark circles under his eyes a stark reminder of the toll this ordeal had taken on him.

Changbin’s voice broke the tense silence. “Any updates?” he asked, glancing at Chan with a concerned frown.

Chan shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly. “No, nothing yet. That’s why we’re all here… waiting.”

Jisung’s heart clenched as he looked at each of them. It was clear they were just as nervous, just as uncertain. And as he slowly took his seat at the farthest chair from the group, he found himself grappling with a mix of emotions—fear, hope, and the faintest hint of belonging he hadn’t expected to feel.

Jisung’s gaze wandered nervously around the waiting room. He kept his eyes low, afraid of lingering too long on anyone’s face. There was something unsettling about being surrounded by so many alphas, especially here in a hospital, where everything felt more raw, more vulnerable. The memory of being questioned by the irritated alpha across the room stirred something cold in his chest. He swallowed, reminding himself that these alphas were different. They were Felix’s family, Felix’s mates. But his mind kept dragging him back to his past encounters, memories that clawed their way to the surface.

He felt a shift beside him as Seungmin settled into a chair a little closer than the others, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed, his presence quiet but oddly grounding. Jisung glanced over as Seungmin gestured subtly toward the two unfamiliar alphas.

“The broody one over there is Minho,” Seungmin murmured, keeping his voice low so only Jisung could hear. “He looks scarier than he is, trust me. And the one pacing like he’s about to wear a hole in the floor? That’s Hyunjin. He’s Felix’s soulmate, the one who—well, they’re close.”

Jisung looked back at Minho, watching the alpha’s hardened expression and furrowed brow. Minho’s gaze was intense, his jaw clenched as he leaned back in his seat, arms crossed in a way that seemed to scream ‘don’t mess with me.’ He definitely looked intimidating, and the memory of their previous encounter wasn’t helping. But with Seungmin’s assurance, Jisung tried to look beyond the scowl and notice the tired lines under Minho’s eyes, the way he seemed tense but not angry, like his irritation wasn’t directed at anyone in the room but at the situation itself.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of anxious energy, pacing back and forth in a near-constant loop. His face was pale, his expression strained as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair over and over. Every few seconds, he’d glance at the door leading to the surgery wing, his eyes full of a deep, almost desperate concern. There was a vulnerability in his movements that made Jisung realize this wasn’t just nervousness—it was fear.

Seungmin leaned closer, his voice soft but steady. “They’ve been through a lot together, Felix and Hyunjin. It’s hard for him to sit still right now, knowing Felix is in there and he can’t do anything about it.”

Jisung nodded, feeling a pang of empathy. He’d been helpless in his own way before, forced to watch things unfold without any control. He could understand that feeling of wanting to do something, anything, but knowing all he could do was wait.

Across the room, Chan offered him another small smile, nodding as if to reassure him. There was something about Chan’s steady presence that was comforting, even from afar. Though Jisung barely knew him, he could see the gentle strength in Chan’s eyes, the warmth beneath the exhaustion. Chan was clearly holding it together for everyone else, taking on the weight of everyone’s worry, trying to be the calm in the storm.

Jisung’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the waiting room door opening. He looked up just in time to see a doctor step inside, her gaze sweeping over the room before landing on Chan.

“Mr. Bang?”

Chan shot up from his seat, his entire body tense with anticipation. The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to him, watching as he crossed the room to the doctor with purposeful strides.

Jisung held his breath, his heart pounding as he watched Chan’s back, his mind racing with possibilities. He couldn’t hear what the doctor was saying, but he could see the way Chan’s shoulders relaxed, the way his hand rose to cover his mouth as he nodded, his face a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion.

It was only when Chan turned back toward the group that Jisung realized he was holding his breath. The look on Chan’s face was enough to say it all—Felix was alive. Relief washed over Jisung, a wave of tension draining from his body as the tightness in his chest eased.

Chan’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears as he returned to the group, his voice thick with emotion. “Felix and the pup… they’re okay. They made it through. The doctor said Felix will need a few weeks to recover, and the pup will have to stay in the NICU for a while, but they’re both stable.”

The words hung in the air, each one sinking in slowly, bringing with them a surge of gratitude and relief that was almost tangible. For a moment, no one spoke, too overwhelmed to break the fragile silence. Then, as if on cue, Hyunjin stopped his pacing, his face crumbling as he covered his mouth, eyes wide with disbelief.

“They’re okay?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he was afraid saying it too loud would make it untrue.

Chan nodded, his own voice thick with emotion. “Yeah… they’re okay. Felix and the baby… they’re both okay.”

Hyunjin let out a choked sound, his hands shaking as he tried to process the words. Minho, who had been silent up until now, let out a deep, shaky breath, his eyes closing as relief flooded his features. Even Jeongin looked as if he might crumble under the weight of his emotions, his lips pressed into a thin line as he blinked rapidly.

Jisung watched all of this unfold from his seat at the farthest end of the row, his own heart pounding in a strange, unfamiliar rhythm. He felt like he was on the outside looking in, witnessing a private moment he didn’t fully belong to, but he couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through his chest. Despite his own fears, his own uncertainties, he was genuinely happy that Felix and the baby were okay. They deserved this—they all did.

He didn’t fully understand the bond these mates shared, the depth of their love for Felix, but he could see it—he could feel it. And a small part of him, buried deep beneath his fear and uncertainty, wondered if he might someday find a place among them, a sense of belonging he’d longed for but never truly found.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin’s body felt heavy as he slumped in one of the waiting room chairs, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers pressing into his temples as he stared blankly at the floor. The sterile scent of the hospital lingered in the air, mixed with the subtle hum of footsteps and distant beeping monitors. Despite the cacophony around him, everything felt muted, as though he were underwater, waiting to breach the surface.

He breathed out slowly, focusing on each inhale and exhale, trying to ground himself in the present. It was over, or at least, the worst of it was. Felix and the pup were safe, just rooms away from where he sat. Relief and fear mingled within him, creating a confusing mix of emotions that kept him teetering on the edge of tears.

Chan was pacing nearby, his hand absently rubbing the back of his neck. Every few seconds, he would glance toward the hallway as though expecting a doctor to appear with news. His face was drawn tight, the normally warm, composed alpha clearly fraying at the edges.

Seungmin sat beside Hyunjin, his posture rigid, hands folded tightly in his lap. Even in his stillness, Seungmin radiated nervous energy; his gaze was fixed on a point across the room, as though any movement might shatter the fragile calm they had managed to cling to since arriving. Jeongin sat across from him, bouncing one leg restlessly, the tension etched on his face as he shot nervous glances toward Chan.

Finally, Jeongin cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hyung,” he murmured, his voice soft but clear. “Do you… do you know when we’ll be able to see him?” The question lingered in the air, and every head turned toward Chan, hoping for a comforting answer.

Chan paused, glancing at each of them before shaking his head slowly. “Not yet,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “The doctor said they’d let us know as soon as he’s stable. Right now, they’re still monitoring him—and the pup.” His jaw clenched, his voice growing rougher with each word as he struggled to hold back his own emotions.

The silence that followed was heavier than before, the weight of Chan’s words settling over them all. Hyunjin clenched his fists, fingers digging into his palms as he fought against the urge to storm through every hallway until he found Felix. The logical part of him knew he had to wait, but every instinct screamed at him to go, to see Felix and reassure himself that he was really there, safe and alive.

A few moments later, Minho’s voice cut through the tension, his tone light, though his gaze remained serious. “So…” he began, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Who’s the one who knocked up Felix?” His words were absurd, a sharp contrast to the somber atmosphere, but the familiarity of his teasing was oddly comforting.

Hyunjin blinked, momentarily startled by the unexpected question, and turned to see Minho studying them each with a raised brow, clearly waiting for their reactions. Jeongin’s face turned bright red, and he immediately ducked his head, suddenly very interested in the floor. The tension in the room cracked, softened by the hint of humor, and Changbin let out a quiet chuckle.

“Honestly?” Changbin said, shrugging as he glanced between them. “Could’ve been anyone here—except Seungmin and Jisung, obviously.” He gestured towards the omegas. Seungmin raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.

“Thank you for clarifying,” Seungmin replied dryly, folding his arms. “I was worried you’d forgotten basic biology, Bin.”

They exchanged a quick grin. Jeongin’s blush deepened as Changbin continued, leaning in as though sharing a secret. “But, really… if I had to bet? I’d say Jeongin.” He shot Jeongin a knowing look, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I mean, think about it. The kid practically glued himself to Felix during Felix’s last heat. I thought we’d have to pry him away with a crowbar.”

Jeongin’s blush spread all the way to the tips of his ears, and he mumbled something incoherent, still refusing to lift his gaze. His embarrassment only seemed to amuse the others further, and Hyunjin felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

Still, the question lingered in Hyunjin’s mind. He hadn’t given much thought to who the biological father might be. He hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, as he sat surrounded by his mates, he felt a pang of curiosity. Part of him hoped—selfishly—that the pup would turn out to be his. It was an instinctual, almost primal desire, rooted deep within him. And yet, he knew it didn’t matter in the end. Whoever the biological father was, he would love and protect the pup just as fiercely.

Jeongin, still visibly flustered, began rummaging through one of the backpacks he’d brought with him, clearly eager for a distraction. After a moment, he pulled out a small, folded blanket—a soft lilac, knitted with a delicate star pattern—and a matching onesie in the same shade. He held them up, his face lighting up with a quiet pride as he displayed the tiny outfit.

“Oh, look at that!” Minho cooed, his voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness as he leaned over to examine the blanket. “Our little Jeongin’s already got the appa instincts down.” He chuckled, nudging Jeongin playfully. “At this rate, you’re definitely gonna be the favorite.”

The others joined in, their chuckles filling the room, breaking the tension as they admired Jeongin’s cuteness.

The moment passed, and Chan’s phone buzzed, drawing everyone’s attention. He glanced down at the screen, his brows furrowing before he let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s Wooyoung,” he muttered, shaking his head. “He just found out about the pup and is on his way to our house to drop off some things. He’s… not thrilled we didn’t tell him sooner.”

Changbin snorted, pulling out his own. “He’s been cussing me out in about three different languages,” he said with a smirk. “But he’ll get over it.”

After a moment, Minho shifted in his seat, breaking the silence. “So, has anyone given any thought to where we’re going to put the pup’s nursery?” He stretched his legs out, crossing his arms as he glanced between his mates, raising an eyebrow at the question.

Chan groaned softly, rubbing his temples. “We haven’t even thought that far yet,” he admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “We’ve been living out of a hotel for weeks. I didn’t even consider we’d need a nursery when we got back.”

Minho waved a dismissive hand. “Well, we’ve got some time. It’s not like she’ll be coming home tomorrow.”

The reality of those words weighed on them all. The baby—this tiny, fragile life they hadn’t even met yet—was still fighting, clinging to life with all her might in the hospital. They would have to wait, each day hoping she’d grow stronger, all while preparing for the day they could finally bring her home.

Chan looked up, his expression brightening slightly. “Speaking of that, only one of us can actually stay here with Felix and the pup tonight.” He hesitated, glancing at each of them in turn, as though weighing his words. “The hospital only allows one person to stay after hours in the omega and pup section.”

Without missing a beat, Minho and Jeongin instantly threw out their hands, each one forming a fist for a round of thumb war. They grinned at each other, already competing for the spot, and everyone burst into laughter at their eagerness.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Chan interrupted, holding up a hand to stop them. He laughed, shaking his head at the sight of his two mates competing like children. “We’ll have to see who the biological father is first before anyone decides who stays, they will get first dibs.”

Seungmin groaned, rolling his eyes. “Great, that means Jisung and I are automatically disqualified, huh?”

Changbin held his hands up, feigning innocence as he grinned at Seungmin. “Hey, just think of it this way: less responsibility. You can sit back, relax, and let the alphas handle the all-nighters with a newborn.”

Seungmin snorted, though his expression softened as he glanced at Jeongin, who was still cradling the lilac blanket with a quiet intensity. “I don’t know, though. Jeongin here might be pulling those all-nighters regardless of whether he’s the biological father or not.”

Chan shook his head, unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “He’s already winning us all over,” he murmured, his voice tinged with pride.

Chan was about to speak again when a nurse approached, her presence suddenly quieting the room. She offered a kind, understanding smile. “Are you all here for Felix?”

“Yes,” Chan replied, his voice strong as he stepped forward, the alpha instincts kicking in immediately. “We’re his… family.”

The nurse nodded, her gaze shifting briefly between them before she gestured toward the hallway. “The doctor would like a word with you. If you’ll all follow me?”

Each of them stood in sync, a current of anticipation running through the group. As they walked, their laughter faded, replaced by a sense of reverence as they prepared to finally see Felix and the little life they’d all been waiting for.

They followed the nurse down the corridors, past rows of rooms filled with soft murmurs and gentle monitors. At the end of the hall, the doctor stood waiting, his expression kind but professional. He nodded to them as they gathered around.

“Felix is currently asleep,” the doctor began, his voice steady. “He gave permission for you all to visit before he drifted off. The pup is in the neonatal intensive care unit with Felix, and you’ll be able to see her for a few minutes. However, only one of you will be allowed to stay overnight.”

Each mate nodded in agreement, exchanging silent looks of understanding. The knowledge that Felix had given his permission, even in his exhausted state, was a small comfort—a reminder that he still knew they were there, still wanted them close.

The doctor led them further down the hall, stopping in front of a door marked ‘Omega and Pup Ward.’ With a small nod of encouragement, he pushed it open and gestured for them to enter.

Hyunjin felt his heartbeat quicken as they stepped inside, the sterile, white walls contrasting sharply with the soft pastels of blankets and hospital gowns. Felix lay in the corner of the room, surrounded by machines that quietly hummed and beeped.

Hyunjin’s breath caught as he took in the sight of Felix’s pale face, his lashes resting delicately against his cheeks, his expression softened in sleep.

Unable to hold back his emotions, Hyunjin felt the tears spill over, his vision blurring as he struggled to hold himself together. Every instinct urged him to go closer, to touch Felix, to reassure himself that this was real—that they hadn’t lost him. A gentle hand on his back pulled him back to the present, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Seungmin standing beside him, offering silent support. Seungmin’s expression was soft, yet his eyes were full of emotion, reflecting a mix of relief and heartbreak that mirrored Hyunjin’s own.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungmin murmured, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “He’s here with us.”

Hyunjin nodded, biting his lip to keep himself steady as he looked back at Felix. He could hear Chan and Jeongin’s quiet sniffles from behind him, and he knew they were just as affected.

Then, Minho’s voice broke through the quiet. “So… has anyone seen the pup?” he asked softly, his tone hesitant but filled with curiosity. His gaze shifted to where a small, incubated bassinet was nestled, a few feet away from Felix’s bed.

At the mention of the pup, every head turned in unison, their collective breath catching. Inside the incubator, a tiny, delicate bundle was wrapped in soft blankets, her chest rising and falling with each assisted breath. Small wires connected her to a few machines, a ventilator helping her breathe as she lay peacefully. Her face was impossibly small, her cheeks rosy against the pale white of the blankets, and her little hands were barely visible beneath the folds.

For a moment, no one dared to move, as if the sight of her would dissolve if they stepped closer. But then Chan took a cautious step forward, his gaze locked onto the small figure in the incubator, his expression a mixture of awe and heartbreak.

“She’s… she’s so tiny,” Chan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid to wake her.

Hyunjin watched as Chan slowly inched closer, his hand coming up to rest on the edge of the incubator. He leaned down, inhaling softly, and Hyunjin could see the exact moment the scent hit him. Chan’s eyes widened, his lips parting as he took in the familiar scent that clung to the air around the tiny pup.

Without thinking, Chan whispered, “She smells like… Hyunjin.”

“Mine…?” Hyunjin whispered, the word escaping him in a choked breath.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin’s heart stopped the moment he heard Chan’s words.

The words had barely settled in the air— the pup smells like Hyunjin —and Hyunjin felt his entire world tilt, his mind racing to process it. Shock flooded his senses, a raw, overwhelming realization sinking in that left him motionless. It was as if time had slowed, the weight of that truth pressing against his chest until he struggled to breathe.

He staggered back slightly, feeling his legs weaken beneath him. Without even thinking, he clutched at the arms that reached out, seeking the support of his mates who had already circled around him. Changbin was the first to pull him close, strong and steady, wrapping his arms tightly around Hyunjin as he trembled. He felt Seungmin’s hand rest against his shoulder, Jeongin’s fingers lightly gripping his arm, while Chan stayed close, the quiet foundation holding them all.

Hyunjin’s body gave in, the strength leaving his limbs as he sank into Changbin’s embrace. The wave of emotion hit him hard, washing over him in a way he couldn’t control or contain. He didn’t speak; words felt pointless, useless. He simply clung to Changbin, his shoulders shaking as silent tears rolled down his face, leaving him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He hadn’t even known he could feel this kind of vulnerability, this kind of unexpected, overwhelming happiness mixed with relief and fear all at once.

Changbin held him through it, strong and constant. Hyunjin could feel the warmth of the others surrounding him. They didn’t need to say anything; their presence alone grounded him, making the swirling emotions inside him a little easier to bear. As Hyunjin’s tears finally began to slow, he took a shaky breath, still leaning against Changbin, the comfort of his mate’s heartbeat calming him.

When he felt steady enough to stand on his own, he gently pulled back, offering Changbin a small, grateful smile. Each of his mates stepped back with him, giving him the space he needed.

Then, with quiet steps, Hyunjin moved toward the incubator. His pup lay within, small and peaceful, as though the world hadn’t yet had the chance to weigh on her. He took in every detail of her face, his heart swelling as he noticed the features that she shared with both him and Felix. Her tiny nose, with the slightest scrunch to it, made her look irritated, as if the world wasn’t quite up to her standards yet. She had a small mole just under her left eye. And her lips, rounded, and with the same gentle curve Felix had, a cupid’s bow that already made her look like she was dreaming something beautiful.

Hyunjin didn’t speak. He didn’t want to break the moment, didn’t want anything to interfere with the quiet, profound feeling settling over him. He simply watched her, feeling the warmth of his mates nearby as they, too, seemed captivated by her presence.

He felt Minho step up beside him. They stood together in silence for a moment, both gazing at the small life before them. After a few breaths, Minho leaned closer, his voice soft as he whispered, “Shes going to cause us trouble, isn't she?”

Hyunjin felt a laugh escape him, soft but genuine, and he gave Minho a slight nod. “She’s already got us all wrapped around her finger.”

Their quiet reverie was soon interrupted by Seungmin’s voice from behind, soft but with a hint of humor. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t end up as stubborn as you two.”

Hyunjin turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow, but Seungmin only shrugged, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. Jeongin was next to him, nodding in agreement.

Chan shushed them, a smile on his face as he nodded toward the incubator. “Our pup’s here, remember? Save the bickering for later.”

At that, Changbin chuckled from the other side, and Jeongin joined him, both of them softening as they looked at their pup. “She’ll love us, bickering and all,” Changbin said, a soft certainty in his voice.

As he stood there, watching her breathe in steady, gentle rises and falls, Minho leaned in closer beside him. “You know,” Minho murmured, voice filled with warmth, “She’s lucky to have us. I mean, really—she’s got her own personal chef right here.” He tapped his chest proudly, grinning.

Hyunjin chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Sure, her own personal chef,” he repeated, trying to hide the tremor in his voice as his gaze softened. “And what are you going to make her? All her baby food?”

“Only the finest,” Minho replied, puffing out his chest. “Organic, gourmet baby food. She’ll be the most spoiled pup around. No one else will do.”

“Stop, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Seungmin muttered, sidling up next to them with an amused smirk.

Minho shot him a glare and reached over to swat his arm. “Hey! Show some respect to your hyung.”

Seungmin only smirked, rubbing his arm as if Minho’s slap had hurt. There was a warmth behind his teasing, a soft fondness that Seungmin didn’t bother to hide.

Chan, standing a little off to the side, cleared his throat. “Let me say this again, could you two try not to get into a fight right here?” he whispered, eyes flashing as he gestured toward their sleeping pup. “She’s literally right there.”

Both Minho and Seungmin quieted, nodding with a shared look of mock solemnity, and Hyunjin had to bite back a laugh as he watched them. His heart felt full, overflowing with love for each of his mates, for the bond that held them together.

On the other side of the incubator, Changbin was cooing softly at the pup, his hands pressed against the glass as he watched her with pure adoration. “I’m going to be your favorite appa, right?” he whispered, a proud grin spreading across his face. “I’ll be the fun one. I’ll teach you all kinds of things, all the good stuff your other appas won’t want you to know.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Like what, how to scare them with random bicep flexes?”

“Exactly.” Changbin winked, then cast a mischievous look at Jeongin, who had been standing by his side, trying to act uninterested. “I’m the strong one, after all,” he added.

Jeongin snorted, feigning disinterest, but Hyunjin could see the spark of amusement in his eyes. “Strongest at what? Wasting everyone’s time with your random workouts?”

But before Jeongin could move away, Changbin pounced, wrapping the younger alpha in a tight hug. “Gotcha!” he exclaimed, holding Jeongin in a bear-like embrace. “Come on, don’t you want to be close to the best appa in the family?”

Jeongin squirmed, letting out an indignant whine. “Let me go, Changbin! You’re suffocating me!”

Taking a steadying breath, Hyunjin pulled himself away from the incubator, feeling the draw to be close to Felix as well. Felix lay only a few feet away, resting peacefully in the hospital bed, the machines around him steady in their beeping, monitoring his every breath. Hyunjin felt the familiar pull, a need to be closer, to reassure himself that Felix was really here, safe and recovering.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Chan studying the machines, murmuring softly to himself as he scanned each monitor. Chan’s diligence was a comfort, something steady and dependable. Hyunjin hadn’t always agreed with Chan’s decisions, but now, he felt that trust solidify.

Hyunjin took a deep breath, letting his gaze drift back to Felix’s face. “So,” he murmured quietly to Chan, “do you think the detectives will actually get what they need from Felix and Jisung?”

Chan’s eyes flicked over to Jisung, who was standing near Seungmin and Jeongin on the other side of the room. “They’re pushing for it,” Chan whispered, his voice cautious. “They don’t want to let this case go cold. But I think we’ll have a little time before they need to talk to Felix or Jisung directly.” He sighed, glancing back at Felix. “It’s all just… so much.”

Hyunjin nodded, feeling the weight of it all. He hadn’t had a chance to process everything. Even now, the thought of Jisung, a stranger, living with them felt strange, uncertain. “Are we really letting him stay with us?” Hyunjin asked, his voice quiet.

Chan gave a small shrug, his gaze softening. “It’s what Felix wanted,” he replied simply. “He asked, and I won’t deny him that. And besides,” he added, glancing thoughtfully over at Jisung, “I think Jisung needs a place where he can feel safe too.”

Hyunjin considered Chan’s words, his gaze lingering on Jisung’s small, uncertain figure. There was a vulnerability to him that reminded Hyunjin of Felix in some ways, the way he looked around with wide, wary eyes, always on edge. And if Felix wanted to help him, then Hyunjin would try too, even if the situation felt unfamiliar and maybe even risky. He trusted Felix’s heart, and he trusted Chan’s judgment.

But a lingering worry gnawed at him. “What about when we all go into ruts and heats?” he asked. The thought of having a strange omega in their space during such an intense time made his instincts bristle. “Will Jisung be safe?”

Chan sighed, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a risk,” he admitted, his voice low. “But we’ll figure it out. We have time before that happens, and we can always make arrangements.”

Hyunjin trusted Chan’s reassurances, even though the logistics made his mind race. They had already faced so many obstacles, but somehow, they’d always found a way through. And looking at Chan, Hyunjin found a calming presence that he knew he could rely on. If Chan believed they could manage, then they could and they will.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted the silence. A nurse stepped into the room, her eyes widening a bit as she took in the sight of all of them crowded around Felix and the pup. She quickly masked her surprise with a polite smile as she approached, checking on Felix first before glancing over at the incubator.

Hyunjin watched as she carefully inspected the machines connected to Felix, her movements efficient but gentle. “The doctor will be in shortly,” she informed them, her voice kind, before moving on to the incubator. She spent a moment there, adjusting a few settings and checking the readings before nodding in satisfaction. Then, with a small smile, she left, leaving the room bathed in a comfortable silence once more.

As the door clicked shut, Changbin approached, a mischievous smile on his face as he held up his phone. “Look at this,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling as he displayed a selfie. Hyunjin leaned closer, recognizing Wooyoung standing with his daughter, Sujin, perched on his hip. Behind them were bags upon bags of baby supplies, a mountain of everything they could possibly need.

“Wooyoung went a little overboard,” Changbin chuckled, swiping through the photos. “Apparently, he threw in some of Sujin’s clothes that she never wore. Said they were too cute to let go to waste.”

“Make sure to tell him thank you,” Chan said, his voice thick with gratitude. Changbin nodded, his own expression softening as he looked at the photos again.

Jeongin wandered over, curiosity brightening his gaze as he glanced at Changbin’s phone. But as he took in the image, he let out a groan. “Great,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed a smile. “Wooyoung’s going to raid all our snacks again, isn’t he? He cleaned us out last time.”

Before Changbin could reply, the door opened again, and this time the doctor stepped in, a warm smile on his face. All of them straightened, the easygoing atmosphere replaced with a sudden tension as they waited, hanging onto the doctor’s every movement.

The doctor offered them a reassuring nod as he looked down at his clipboard. “I have good news,” he began, glancing at each of them. “Both Felix and the pup are doing remarkably well. Felix’s condition is still fragile, but he’s stable, and the baby’s responding well to the incubator. Her lungs need a bit more time to develop, but if she continues to improve at this rate, she should be able to breathe on her own in a few weeks.”

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, and Hyunjin’s heart soared, the tension in his chest finally easing. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked over at his mates, who each wore matching expressions of pure relief.

The doctor continued, his voice calm but serious. “I would recommend that someone stays with Felix and the pup each night if possible. It’ll help both of them, especially Felix, to have familiar pheromones around while he’s healing. The emotional and physical connection can play a big role in his recovery.”

Chan nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll arrange it,” he said, his tone filled with determination.

“How long until Felix can come home?” Minho asked, his voice betraying a hint of worry.

The doctor pondered for a moment before answering. “It’s hard to say exactly. It could be a few weeks, depending on his recovery process. He’s been through a lot, so we’ll take things one step at a time.”

Another wave of relief washed over them, tempered with the understanding that the road to full recovery would be long. But that didn’t matter. They had made it this far; they would see it through to the end.

“Visiting hours are over, though,” the doctor said with a gentle smile, though his tone was firm. “We’ll need to have everyone except one person leave for the night.”

Their faces fell slightly, but each of them nodded, understanding the need for rest and space in Felix’s room. Hyunjin felt a surge of gratitude as his mates moved to leave without protest, one by one squeezing his shoulder, each offering quiet reassurances before trailing out the door.

And just like that, Hyunjin was alone with Felix. He leaned in, his thumb stroking the back of Felix’s hand as he murmured, “You did so well, Lixie. You’re so strong.”

Hyunjin watched Felix’s steady breathing, feeling the weight of everything they’d gone through settle around them like a fragile peace. In the quiet, he could finally let his own walls down. Gently, he rested his forehead against Felix’s hand, closing his eyes as he absorbed the comforting warmth.

“I’m right here,” he whispered, voice low, a promise as much to himself as to Felix. He knew there was a long road ahead—recovery, healing, countless moments of patience and understanding. But here, in this quiet moment, it was just the two of them. The world could wait.

Chapter Text

Jisung sat in the back seat, feeling his heart race as they turned onto a quiet street lined with trees. His palms were damp, his fingers nervously picking at the fabric of his sleeves as he tried to keep his breathing steady. Seungmin sat beside him, a calming presence, but that didn’t stop the flood of anxious thoughts running through his mind. He was grateful that everyone had been quiet during the drive, leaving him alone with his nerves. Up front, Chan was focused on the road, with Jeongin riding shotgun, occasionally glancing back to check on them.

As they pulled into the driveway, Jisung’s breath caught. The house wasn’t anything he’d expected—larger, maybe, and definitely nicer than anywhere he’d been in a long time. It was painted a soft, warm color, with a porch where he could see a pair of shoes kicked off haphazardly.

He hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet, and already he felt like he was intruding on something private, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever belong to.

The low rumble of another engine pulled his attention back, and he watched Minho and Changbin park next to them. They got out, sharing a quiet word between themselves as they grabbed their bags. Jisung clenched his hands, feeling his nerves spike all over again as Seungmin gently nudged him to get out. Stepping onto the driveway, he felt dwarfed by the house and the alphas around him.

Seungmin stayed close, drifting to his side as the others gathered their things. Chan unlocked the door, holding it open for Seungmin and Jisung to go in first. As they stepped over the threshold, Jisung felt a wave of warmth settle over him, along with the unmistakable scent of the alphas.

The entryway opened into a sprawling living room that had clearly seen its better days. A well-worn couch dominated one side of the room, slightly sagging in the middle where it seemed everyone preferred to pile up together. The fabric was covered in a patchwork of mismatched throw blankets—some neat, some tangled. A stray hoodie was draped over one armrest, and there was a half-read book abandoned on the coffee table next to an empty coffee mug. The TV was mounted on the wall, surrounded by a cluster of framed photos, most of which showed smiling faces and moments he couldn’t quite make out from where he stood.

Seungmin walked ahead, letting Jisung take it all in at his own pace. “Living room,” he said simply, waving a hand around as if to say, ‘make yourself at home.’

Jisung’s gaze fell on the clutter of items scattered across the room. A small pile of mail sat on the side table, and a pair of headphones was tangled up on the floor near a stack of video game cases.

Seungmin waited a moment, watching him closely, before leading him toward the next room. “Kitchen’s this way,” he said, motioning for Jisung to follow.

The kitchen was a bit of organized chaos. There were a few dishes by the sink, and a frying pan left on the stove. The fridge was covered with a few faded photos held up by mismatched clips. One of them caught Jisung’s eye—a picture of Chan and Felix, grinning widely at the camera with a beach in the background. Next to it was another, showing Changbin asleep on the couch with Seungmin draped over him.

They continued down a short hallway, passing by an open bathroom. Seungmin led him into a room that was mostly empty, save for a small dresser tucked in one corner.

“This one’s going to be the nursery,” Seungmin explained, his eyes softening with a hint of excitement before he walked further down the hallway.

Finally, Seungmin opened another door, revealing a simple bedroom. “And this,” he said, turning to Jisung, “is where you’ll be staying.”

The room was small but cozy. A few boxes were stacked in the corner, likely things the mates hadn’t gotten around to unpacking, and there was a faded poster on the wall. The window was slightly open, letting in a cool breeze that ruffled the curtains.

Jisung stepped inside, barely daring to believe it. The room wasn’t lavish or overly decorated, but it felt comfortable. He turned to Seungmin, unable to put his gratitude into words, but the omega just gave him an understanding smile.

“There’s one more thing I should show you,” Seungmin said, leading him upstairs and to the door at the end of the hall. He placed a hand on the knob but didn’t turn it. “This is mine and the others room. We all share it.” He glanced back at Jisung, a soft smile in his eyes.

Jisung looked at the door, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite name. And for some reason, it made his chest ache, though he couldn’t explain why.

When they returned to the living room, the alphas had all collapsed on the couch, their limbs tangled in a loose pile. They looked relaxed, comfortable.

Seungmin gave Minho a small nudge. “You should probably get up and start on dinner,” he teased, giving him a playful shake.

Minho groaned, barely shifting his head to give Seungmin a side-eye. “We just got home. I’m exhausted.”

Before they could escalate into a full-blown argument, Chan let out a chuckle, pushing himself up from the couch. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, ruffling Seungmin’s hair on his way to the kitchen.

Jisung watched as Chan disappeared into the kitchen, feeling a strange mix of relief and nervousness. He glanced around the room again, noticing Minho’s eyes on him, his gaze calm but a little too intense.

Jisung shifted nervously, his gaze dropping to the floor as he felt Minho’s eyes on him. The alpha’s presence was commanding, and though Minho hadn’t said a word, Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling of being scrutinized. There was something about him that felt… intense, and though Jisung knew that the alpha probably wasn’t a threat, his mind struggled to accept it. It was like his instincts were in overdrive, making him feel jumpy and small.

Seungmin seemed to sense his discomfort, stepping closer with a casual smile. “Minho, maybe lay off the staring?” he said with a hint of sarcasm, lightly nudging the alpha’s leg with his foot.

Minho rolled his eyes, but a playful smirk crossed his face. “I wasn’t staring,” he protested, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch. “Just… observing.”

“Oh sure, just observing,” Seungmin shot back, giving him a pointed look. “You always look at people like they’re your next meal.”

Minho scoffed. “I don’t always look like that.”

“Yeah, you do,” Changbin chimed in from where he was sprawled at the other end of the couch, not even bothering to lift his head.

Twenty minutes later, a savory aroma started drifting in from the kitchen, and Jisung’s stomach gave a soft rumble, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten properly in… he couldn’t even remember how long. He glanced toward the kitchen, where Chan was busy preparing food, and felt a strange sense of awe. An alpha, cooking—it was something he’d never thought he’d experience.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Chan’s voice called from the kitchen, pulling Jisung from his thoughts. “Everyone get washed up.”

The alphas stirred, one by one getting up from the couch with groans and stretches. They all eventually gathered in the kitchen, and Chan handed out plates, each one filled with generous portions of food. When Jisung saw that there was a plate specifically for him, his chest tightened with an unfamiliar feeling.

Seungmin motioned for him to sit, and Jisung took his place at the table, sandwiched between Seungmin and Jeongin. As they settled in, the others chatted casually.

After a moment, Chan turned to him with a gentle smile. “So, Jisung,” he began, his voice kind and curious, “What’s your favorite color?”

Jisung blinked, surprised by the question. It was such a simple thing, something he hadn’t thought about in ages, but the way Chan asked it made him feel seen, like they genuinely wanted to know who he was, not just what he’d been through. “Um… red, or green, I think,” he answered quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chan nodded, his smile growing warmer. “Good choice. Jeongin’s favorite color is green.”

It was strange, hearing someone talk to him like this—as if he was just a regular person, not someone broken or haunted. They went around the table, each of the alphas asking him small, seemingly meaningless questions—his favorite food, his favorite kind of weather.

As dinner wound down, Jisung felt a quiet contentment settle over him, even if his nerves were still lurking beneath the surface. He hadn’t expected to feel this… welcomed, not here. Not with strangers who didn’t owe him anything. And yet, they had made a place for him, even if he still felt like he was on the outside looking in.

When the meal ended, Jeongin stood up to take care of the dishes, and Chan gave him a grateful pat on the back. Jisung watched them, his mind swirling with so many conflicting thoughts and emotions that he barely noticed Seungmin tugging at his sleeve.

“Come on,” Seungmin said, his voice gentle. “I’ll show you back to your room. You’ve had a long day.”

Jisung nodded, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and relief as he stood up. The others offered him soft goodnights as he passed, each of their voices kind and welcoming in a way that made his heart ache.

Seungmin led him down the hall, his steps quiet and unhurried, as if he sensed how fragile Jisung felt. They reached the guest bedroom, and Seungmin pushed the door open, giving him a small smile.

Jisung nodded, murmuring a quiet “Thank you” before stepping inside. Seungmin gave him one last, encouraging smile before closing the door softly behind him, leaving Jisung alone in the quiet room.

As the door clicked shut, Jisung took a hesitant step into the room, his eyes sweeping over the space that was now his.

The bed looked soft, inviting in a way that made him almost afraid to touch it, as if he might leave some kind of invisible mark. His fingers brushed the quilt, feeling the worn fabric beneath his fingertips, and his mind raced with thoughts he couldn’t fully process. He couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment someone could come in and tell him this was a mistake, that he didn’t belong here.

Swallowing hard, Jisung sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers nervously twisting together as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know how to feel—relieved, scared, overwhelmed. All of it swirled inside him like a storm he couldn’t control. This room was meant to be his safe space, but all he could think about was the fear that it could be taken away, that it might vanish if he allowed himself to relax even a little.

The house was quiet, save for the distant sound of muffled laughter and soft voices echoing from down the hall. It was strange, hearing those sounds in a house full of alphas, yet feeling none of the usual fear. The atmosphere was warm, gentle, nothing like the harsh voices and rough hands he had known before.

Minutes ticked by, and still, no one came to disturb him. Part of him was grateful for the solitude, but another part—the part that had grown used to constant noise, to never being truly alone—felt the weight of it pressing down on him. He reached up, scratching nervously at his hands, a habit he’d developed. The quiet seemed to stretch endlessly, each second feeling heavier than the last, and he couldn’t help but worry that the alphas were just outside the door, waiting for him to let his guard down.

Slowly, hesitantly, he let himself lie back on the bed, sinking into the softness of the mattress. The room was dimly lit, just the small lamp casting a warm glow that softened the edges of everything around him. He felt himself relax, just a little, his eyes fluttering shut as he let the exhaustion of the day catch up to him.

The sounds from down the hall continued, soft and reassuring, like a lullaby in the quiet of the night. He closed his eyes, letting himself listen, focusing on the faint laughter, the distant creak of a door closing, the low murmur of voices. It felt like a heartbeat, steady and constant, grounding him in the present.

Slowly, the fear began to ebb, replaced by a tentative sense of peace. He wasn’t ready to trust it completely, but for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a tiny spark of hope, a faint whisper in his mind that maybe, just maybe, he had finally found a place where he could rest.

With that thought lingering in his mind, Jisung drifted off, his body sinking into the warmth of the bed as he let go of the day’s anxieties, if only for a little while.

Chapter Text

The morning greeted Jisung softly. He stirred awake, the muffled hum of distant voices filtering through the door. For a moment, disorientation clung to him—he wasn’t used to waking up somewhere that felt so… quiet.

He blinked his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling, where faint sunlight painted shifting patterns across the smooth surface. His senses sharpened slowly: the faint scent of coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the unmistakable smell of cooking food. His stomach growled loudly in response, and he immediately curled in on himself, embarrassed even though no one could hear.

The chatter outside grew clearer the longer he lay there, picking out fragments of conversation he couldn’t quite piece together. Words were muted by the barrier of the door, but the tones—soft, casual, unhurried—eased some of the tension in his chest. There were no raised voices, no heavy footsteps that made his skin crawl.

Jisung sat up hesitantly, his body stiff from the unfamiliar bed. Hugging his knees to his chest, he stared toward the door. Part of him wanted to move, to find out what was happening in the rest of the house, but his nerves held him back. His room felt like a fragile bubble of safety, and stepping outside seemed too overwhelming, too risky.

He shifted on the bed, his arms wrapping tighter around his legs. His gaze flickered to the window. The soft chirping of birds outside was almost melodic, the kind of sound he hadn’t paid attention to in a long time. It was surreal, almost unreal, to experience something so mundane—so peaceful.

The voices in the hallway grew faint as if whoever had been talking was moving further away. Jisung’s grip on his knees loosened slightly. The stillness of the room should have been calming, but instead, it left him acutely aware of his own isolation.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

Jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he didn’t move, hoping whoever it was would go away. But then, a familiar voice called through the door.

“Jisung? It’s Seungmin.”

The sound of his name startled him. He hadn’t expected Seungmin to seek him out so early—or at all, really. There was a pause before Seungmin added, “Breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”

Jisung’s stomach growled again at the mention of food, but his nerves kept him rooted in place. He stared at the door, his heartbeat quickening as he debated what to do.

“Take your time,” Seungmin said, his tone light but laced with understanding. “I’ll wait out here if you want.”

Jisung hesitated before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood slowly, the floor cold against his bare feet as he padded to the door. His hand hovered over the lock for a moment, his fingers trembling slightly before he finally turned it.

When he opened the door, Seungmin was leaning casually against the wall. His hair was sticking out in every direction, a clear sign that he hadn’t been awake for long. His eyes were half-lidded, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from what Jisung guessed was the imprint of a pillow.

Seungmin blinked at him, taking in Jisung’s own disheveled appearance, before letting out a soft chuckle. “We’re quite the pair this morning,” he said, running a hand through his wild hair.

Jisung blinked in surprise, his lips twitching upward in the barest hint of a smile.

“Come on,” Seungmin said, turning toward the hallway. “The food’s still warm, and if we wait too long, Minho might start getting territorial over his cooking.”

Jisung followed hesitantly, his footsteps quiet on the wooden floor. The hallway was brighter than his room, sunlight streaming through a large window at the end. He kept his gaze lowered, focusing on Seungmin’s back as they walked.

When they reached the kitchen, the sight that greeted him was almost surreal.

Minho stood by the stove, humming a tune as he plated food. He moved with an easy confidence, his attention entirely on his task. At the table, Chan sat nursing a mug of coffee, his hair slightly damp. Jeongin was slumped over the table, his face buried in his arms as he let out a dramatic groan, while Changbin sat beside him, earbuds in as he watched something on his phone.

None of them looked intimidating.

In fact, they all looked… normal.

Chan’s mismatched pajamas—a red flannel top paired with gray sweatpants—made him seem far less imposing than Jisung remembered. Jeongin’s hair was sticking up in odd directions, and even Changbin, who had a naturally commanding presence, looked relaxed in his oversized hoodie and glasses.

The scene was so domestic that Jisung almost forgot his nerves. Almost.

“Coffee,” Seungmin muttered, making a beeline for the counter where a pot was waiting. He poured himself a cup, taking a long sip before finally settling into a seat next to Changbin.

Jisung hovered near the doorway, unsure of what to do.

Minho glanced at him briefly before motioning to the table. “Sit,” he said simply, his tone more directive than unkind.

Jisung obeyed, sliding into the chair beside Jeongin, who didn’t even look up. The younger alpha was completely unbothered by Jisung’s presence, letting out a sleepy mumble before shifting slightly in his seat.

As Minho began setting plates in front of everyone, Jisung noticed something odd. When a plate was placed in front of him, it wasn’t just a random assortment of food—it was piled high with some of his favorite foods, things he’d shyly mentioned the night before.

He stared at the plate, his stomach churning with a mix of hunger and confusion. Why would an alpha go out of his way to do something like this?

“Eat,” Minho said, taking a seat beside Chan.

Jisung glanced at the alpha nervously but found that Minho wasn’t paying him any attention. None of them were. Everyone was focused on their own food, offering quiet thanks to Minho before digging in.

Tentatively, Jisung picked up his fork. He took a small bite, half-expecting someone to say something or criticize him, but the only sound was the clinking of silverware against plates.

The food was delicious.

As Jisung continued to eat, he couldn’t help but let his gaze drift across the table. The others were engaged in quiet conversation, their voices blending with the faint clatter of utensils. No one seemed to be paying him much attention, which was both a relief and a source of unease.

He wasn’t used to this kind of casual atmosphere—this lack of tension. He half-expected someone to snap at him for eating too slowly or to demand something from him. But instead, Chan and Seungmin were discussing something about the garden outside, their tones light and unhurried.

Jeongin, still half-asleep, lazily pushed his food around on his plate. At one point, Changbin nudged him with an elbow, grinning. “You’re not skipping breakfast, Innie. Don’t make me feed you.”

Jeongin groaned dramatically but shoved a piece of toast into his mouth in defiance, shooting Changbin a playful glare.

The interaction drew a soft chuckle from Chan, who leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. “One of these days, Jeongin’s going to actually throw food at you, Binnie.”

“Worth it,” Changbin replied, his grin widening.

It was such a simple exchange, but Jisung found himself transfixed. The way they spoke to each other—it wasn’t forced or calculated. There was no malice behind their teasing, no sharp edge that made the air feel heavy.

A part of him ached at the sight. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in around a group of alphas like this, where everything felt so… normal.

“Everything okay?” Seungmin’s voice broke through Jisung’s thoughts.

Jisung startled slightly, his fork clattering against his plate. Seungmin, who had been watching him from across the table, tilted his head curiously.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Seungmin said, his tone playful but not mocking. “Not that I’m complaining—I appreciate the peace and quiet.”

Jisung hesitated, unsure how to respond. He glanced down at his plate, his appetite suddenly waning under the weight of his own self-consciousness.

Chan, noticing the exchange, leaned forward slightly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he said gently, his voice warm and reassuring. “Just take your time.”

Jisung nodded, grateful for the understanding. He picked at his food, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to focus on eating.

Across the table, Minho was watching him. Not in an intimidating way, but with a quiet curiosity. When Jisung caught his eye, Minho raised an eyebrow. “The food’s fine, right?”

Jisung nodded quickly, his cheeks flushing. “I-It’s really good,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Minho smirked faintly. “Good. You looked like you were about to pass out from hunger every time I saw you, so I figured I’d make something decent.”

The casual remark left Jisung unsure of how to respond. Was that Minho’s way of showing concern? It didn’t sound like pity, which was a relief, but the offhandedness of the comment still threw him off.

“Minho likes to act tough,” Seungmin said, cutting through the silence with a teasing grin. “But deep down, he’s just a softie who loves taking care of people.”

“Careful, Seungmin,” Minho warned, though there was no real bite to his tone. “Keep talking, and I might just let you starve next time.”

The playful banter between the two eased some of Jisung’s tension. He focused on finishing his meal, forcing himself to take one bite at a time even though his nerves made it hard to swallow.

Breakfast continued, the room settling into a comfortable rhythm. The soft hum of voices and the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate filled the space. Jisung sat quietly, his movements careful as he finished the last few bites of his meal. Despite the tension coiling in his chest, he couldn’t deny that the food was delicious.

Once everyone had cleared their plates, Chan leaned back in his chair and took another long sip of his coffee. “Alright,” he began, his voice breaking through the quiet lull. “We need to figure out who’s staying with Felix tonight.”

The casual mention of Felix made Jisung’s ears perk up. He glanced at Chan, unsure if he was allowed to join the conversation or if it was meant solely for the others.

“Not it,” Changbin said immediately, raising his hand with a sly grin. “I already spent countless nights in a row sleeping on that awful hospital chair. My back’s still mad at me.”

Jeongin snorted, though he still looked half-asleep. “Pretty sure Felix would have your ass if he heard you say that.”

“I’ll tell him to his face if I have to,” Changbin shot back, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated confidence.

Minho shook his head, his lips twitching in amusement as he began collecting empty plates from the table. “You’re all so dramatic. It’s one night—deal with it.”

“Well, who’s it going to be, then?” Jeongin asked, finally sitting up straight and rubbing at his tired eyes.

Seungmin smirked as he leaned back in his chair, cradling his mug of coffee. “We could always make it a vote. Majority rules.”

“Fine by me,” Chan said with a shrug.

Changbin reached into his pocket, pulled out a coin, and flipped it onto the table. “Heads or tails? Let fate decide.”

Chan sighed, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and resignation. “Or we could just skip all this and pick someone who’s willing.”

“I’m willing,” Jeongin said softly, though his voice carried a note of hesitance.

The room fell quiet for a moment as everyone turned to look at him. Jeongin fidgeted under their gazes, his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeve.

“You sure, Innie?” Minho asked as he returned from the sink, his voice unusually gentle. “You’ve been running yourself ragged lately.”

Jeongin hesitated, clearly weighing his options, before finally nodding. “I don’t mind. Felix… he always seems calmer when I’m there.”

Chan studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only if you promise to actually get some sleep while you’re there.”

Jeongin smiled faintly. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Chan said, his tone decisive. “Now, onto the next thing.” He set his mug down and leaned forward slightly, folding his hands on the table. “We need to start making a list of everything we’ll need for the nursery and the pup. We’re running out of time, and I’d rather have everything ready sooner than later.”

Minho grabbed a notepad and pen from the counter and slid it across the table toward Seungmin. “You’re the list guy. Knock yourself out.”

Seungmin caught the notepad with one hand and flipped it open, already scribbling something at the top of the page. “Alright, let’s start with the basics. Crib, bassinet, diapers…”

“Formula,” Changbin added. “Male omegas don’t always produce enough milk, right?”

“Correct,” Seungmin replied, jotting it down. “What else?”

“More clothes,” Jeongin said quietly. “A lot of them. Babies go through outfits like crazy.”

“Good point.”

“What about a car seat?” Minho suggested, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Gotta bring the pup home somehow.”

“Duh,” Seungmin muttered, scribbling furiously.

As they continued listing off items, the conversation grew livelier. They debated over paint colors for the nursery, the discussion becoming a heated argument when Changbin insisted on a soft pink while Seungmin argued for a neutral beige.

“Pink is too much,” Seungmin said, waving his pen in the air for emphasis. “We don’t even know if the pup will like it.”

“It’s a pup,” Changbin shot back. “It’s not going to care what color the walls are.”

“That’s not the point—”

“Guys,” Chan interjected, his tone firm but patient. “How about we take a vote?”

It took a few more minutes of bickering, but they eventually settled on the soft pink Changbin wanted. Seungmin looked mildly disgruntled, but he didn’t protest further.

“Alright,” Chan said, leaning back in his chair. “Anything we can’t find in stores today, we’ll order online later. Jeongin, Changbin—you’re on shopping duty.”

Changbin grinned, snatching the notepad from Seungmin. “Sweet. Chan’s credit card is coming with us, right?”

Chan sighed. “Yes, but don’t go too overboard.”

“No promises,” Changbin replied, already standing to stretch.

Jeongin followed suit, though he looked less enthusiastic. As the two of them left the room to get ready, Jisung remained seated, feeling increasingly out of place.

Jisung stayed seated at the table as the others moved around, his gaze flickering between

Seungmin and Chan. The room had grown quieter with Jeongin and Changbin gone, leaving only the subtle clinking of Seungmin stacking plates and the low hum of conversation from the living room.

Chan stood and pulled his phone from his pocket, his expression thoughtful. He stepped toward the counter, dialing a number, and pressed the phone to his ear. Jisung watched him, hesitant to make a sound.

“Hyunjin?” Chan’s voice broke the quiet, casual but tinged with concern. “Any updates?”

Jisung couldn’t hear the response, but he saw the way Chan’s shoulders straightened as he listened. The alpha nodded to himself, his fingers drumming lightly on the countertop.

“Still no change?” Chan asked after a moment, his voice softening. His gaze flicked briefly toward Jisung, who quickly averted his eyes, pretending to focus on a crack in the wooden table. “Alright. Keep me posted if anything happens. I’ll come by later to check on him.”

The call ended shortly after, and Chan set his phone down with a heavy sigh. Jisung felt a pang of guilt for eavesdropping, even unintentionally, but his curiosity about Felix’s condition gnawed at him.

Before he could muster the courage to ask, Seungmin turned from the sink, drying his hands with a towel. “Done,” he announced, tossing the towel onto the counter. He glanced at Jisung, his tone shifting to something more lighthearted. “Hey, wanna go shopping?”

Jisung blinked, startled by the sudden question. “Shopping?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Seungmin said, already moving toward the hallway. “You need clothes, don’t you?”

Jisung opened his mouth to respond, but Seungmin was already disappearing around the corner, calling over his shoulder, “I’m taking a shower first. Don’t run away while I’m gone!”

Jisung sat frozen for a moment, his mind racing. Clothes? Why would they buy clothes for him? He didn’t deserve any of this—not the food, not the shelter, and certainly not new clothes. The thought of Seungmin spending money on him made his stomach twist with discomfort.

Chan’s voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. “You alright?”

Jisung turned his head slowly, meeting Chan’s gaze. The alpha’s tone was calm, not demanding, and his expression lacked the sharpness Jisung had come to expect from most alphas. Still, Jisung’s instinct was to lower his eyes and nod quickly. “I’m fine.”

Chan didn’t press him further, though his lips quirked into a faint smile. “I was thinking of ordering you and Felix new phones,” he said casually, leaning against the counter.

Jisung stiffened. “I don’t need a phone,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I don’t… I can’t pay for it.”

“Who said anything about you paying for it?” Chan replied, his tone light but firm.

Jisung hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He wanted to argue, to insist that he didn’t want to be a burden, but the weight of Chan’s calm gaze silenced him.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Chan said, brushing the subject aside for now. “Tomorrow you can look online for any furniture you might need for your room. Let me know if you see anything you like.”

Furniture? Jisung’s mind reeled. But before he could spiral further, Seungmin reappeared in the doorway, his hair damp and a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. He held a hoodie in one hand, tossing it toward Jisung without warning. “Here. Wear this,” he said around the toothbrush.

Jisung caught the hoodie awkwardly, the soft fabric brushing against his fingers. He hesitated for a moment before pulling it over his head. The scent of Jeongin clung to the fabric, wrapping around him like a blanket. It was oddly comforting, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Seungmin disappeared again, returning a few minutes later without the toothbrush. He motioned for Jisung to follow, his tone brisk. “Come on. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Jisung stood slowly, his legs feeling unsteady as he trailed behind Seungmin toward the front door. They both slipped on their shoes, and Jisung realized with a pang of embarrassment that he was still wearing Seungmin’s old pair. They were slightly too big, but he didn’t dare complain.

Outside, the crisp air greeted them, and Jisung took a deep breath, his nerves tightening as they approached Seungmin’s car. He hesitated before climbing into the passenger seat, his movements cautious.

Seungmin settled into the driver’s seat and started the car, the soft hum of the engine breaking the silence. A low melody played on the radio, filling the space with a gentle rhythm.

The drive was quiet, neither of them speaking much, though the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as Jisung expected. Seungmin seemed content to let the music fill the void, occasionally tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat.

The car ride ended quicker than Jisung expected. Seungmin pulled into the parking lot of a medium-sized clothing store, the sign above its entrance worn but welcoming. Jisung stared at the store nervously, gripping the hem of Jeongin’s hoodie as if it might anchor him.

“Come on,” Seungmin said, stepping out of the car. He didn’t wait for Jisung to follow, heading straight for the entrance.

Jisung hesitated for a moment before opening the car door. The air outside was brisk, carrying the faint scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery. He wrapped his arms around himself, the oversized hoodie offering some comfort, and followed Seungmin into the store.

The interior was warm and brightly lit, the shelves neatly organized with rows of clothing. The faint hum of overhead music mixed with the sound of quiet chatter from other shoppers. Jisung stayed close to Seungmin, his heart racing as his eyes darted around the store.

“Alright,” Seungmin said, grabbing a cart from near the entrance. “Let’s get started. Pick out whatever you like.”

Jisung blinked at him, startled by the offer. “Whatever I like?” he repeated, his voice barely audible.

Seungmin nodded, already steering the cart toward the men’s section. “Yeah. Shirts, pants, underwear—everything. You need a proper wardrobe.”

Jisung hesitated, his feet glued to the floor. The idea of taking so much, spending someone else’s money, made his stomach twist with unease. He didn’t deserve this kindness.

Seungmin must have noticed his hesitation because he turned back with a raised eyebrow. “Come on, Jisung. Don’t make me do all the work for you.”

Reluctantly, Jisung followed. His steps were small and hesitant, and he kept his hands tucked into the sleeves of his borrowed hoodie.

They reached the racks of clothes, and Seungmin stopped, gesturing toward them with an expectant look. “Well? Start looking.”

Jisung hesitated again before reaching out to touch the fabric of a plain gray sweatshirt. It felt soft under his fingers, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine wearing it, its warmth surrounding him.

“You like that one?” Seungmin asked.

Jisung quickly pulled his hand back, shaking his head. “No, it’s… I don’t know.”

Seungmin sighed, grabbing the sweatshirt and tossing it into the cart. “If you look at it for more than three seconds, it’s going in the cart,” he declared, smirking slightly.

Jisung’s eyes widened. “But—”

“No buts,” Seungmin interrupted, moving further down the aisle. “Let’s keep going.”

Despite his protests, Jisung found himself glancing at a few more items as they moved through the store—simple T-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie in a deep green color. Each time, Seungmin grabbed the item without hesitation, adding it to the growing pile in the cart.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jisung mumbled at one point, his voice barely audible over the soft store music.

Seungmin didn’t stop pushing the cart, his tone casual as he replied, “I know. But I want to.”

Jisung didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet, letting Seungmin lead the way.

By the time they reached the fitting rooms, the cart was overflowing. Jisung’s stomach churned at the thought of trying on so many clothes, but Seungmin seemed unfazed. He handed Jisung the first few items and nudged him toward an open stall.

“Try these on,” he said. “And don’t bother arguing—I’m not leaving until you’ve tried everything.”

Jisung sighed but obeyed, stepping into the small fitting room and closing the door behind him. The space was cramped, the overhead light harsh, but the mirror on the wall reflected a version of himself that didn’t look as broken as he felt.

He pulled off Jeongin’s hoodie, carefully folding it and setting it on the small bench. One by one, he tried on the clothes Seungmin had picked out, stepping out occasionally to show him the fit.

Seungmin offered a mix of sarcastic comments and genuine praise, his lighthearted demeanor easing some of Jisung’s tension. By the time they were done, Jisung had a pile of clothes he actually liked—a mix of comfortable basics and a few items that felt slightly out of his comfort zone but still appealing.

When they reached the checkout counter, Jisung’s anxiety returned in full force. The sight of the growing total on the register made his chest tighten, and he avoided looking at the cashier entirely.

Seungmin, however, was unfazed. He handed over a card with a grin, paying for everything without hesitation.

As they left the store, Jisung couldn’t bring himself to speak. The weight of the shopping bags in his hands felt like both a blessing and a burden. He wanted to thank Seungmin, but the words stuck in his throat.

The sun had already set by the time they reached the car, the sky painted in deep shades of purple and blue. Seungmin loaded the bags into the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Jisung followed, settling into the passenger seat and staring out the window as they pulled out of the parking lot. The drive home was quiet, the soft hum of the radio filling the silence.

The house was quiet when they returned. Seungmin parked the car in the driveway and got out, grabbing several bags from the trunk. Jisung followed, his arms filled with the rest of the bags. The weight wasn’t unbearable, but it was enough to remind him just how much Seungmin had insisted on buying.

They stepped inside, and the familiar warmth of the house greeted them. The soft hum of the television drifted from the living room, where Hyunjin was lounging on the couch. His legs were stretched out, and he looked relaxed, his attention focused on the screen.

Beside him, Chan was curled up, his head resting against Hyunjin’s shoulder, and Changbin was tucked on the other side, his body curled into the cushions. The sight was unexpectedly comforting.

“How did it go?” Hyunjin asked without looking away from the television.

“Feels like we were out for hours,” Seungmin replied, kicking off his shoes. He glanced at Jisung. “Come on, let’s get these bags into your room.”

Jisung nodded, quickly slipping off his borrowed shoes before following Seungmin down the hallway. His room was still just as he’d left it—neat, sparse, and impersonal. The pile of clothes they’d brought back made it feel just a little less empty.

Seungmin set his bags on the ground by the bed and motioned for Jisung to do the same. “You can organize them later,” he said. “For now, just relax. I’m going to see if Minho needs help with dinner.”

Before Jisung could respond, Seungmin was gone, leaving him alone. He looked at the bags on the bed, a strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Gratitude, guilt, and something he couldn’t quite name.

The muffled sound of voices and clattering dishes reached him from the kitchen. Jisung sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees as he tried to calm the unease that always seemed to follow him.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he heard footsteps approaching. The door creaked open, and Seungmin peeked inside, his hair falling into his eyes. “Minho’s making dinner,” he said. “It smells good, so you better be hungry.”

Jisung hesitated, nodding slightly. He wasn’t sure if he could eat, but the idea of sitting with everyone again was nerve-wracking enough to chase away his appetite.

Before Seungmin could say anything else, the distant sound of Chan’s voice carried down the hallway. It was faint, but Jisung caught snippets of the conversation—something about Felix.

Seungmin’s expression shifted, his casual demeanor giving way to something more serious. He stepped back into the hallway, leaving the door open behind him.

Curious but too nervous to follow, Jisung stayed where he was, straining to hear.

A minute later, Seungmin returned, his expression unreadable. “Jeongin called,” he said simply. “Felix is awake.”

Chapter Text

Felix woke slowly, his mind emerging from the depths of a restless and heavy sleep. The first thing he noticed was the stillness. The room around him was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that felt thick, pressing down on him. It made his chest tighten, though whether it was from the atmosphere or something deeper, he couldn’t tell.

He blinked a few times, his vision blurry and his mind foggy as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Where was he? The dim light filtering in through the blinds gave him little to work with, casting long shadows across the room. As his eyes began to adjust, he realized the smell was familiar—too familiar.

A hospital.

The realization hit him like a wave, cold and numbing. He glanced down at himself, taking in the IVs hooked to his arms, the bandages wrapped tightly around him, and the stiff hospital gown clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

For a moment, his mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. Flashes of pain and fear assaulted him—memories of harsh lights, harsh voices, and the relentless pressure that had consumed him. But one memory cut through the haze with terrifying clarity.

His pup.

Panic gripped his chest as his eyes darted around the room. Where was she? Was she alive?

He turned his head sharply to the left, and his breath caught in his throat. Jeongin sat in the chair beside him, his head tilted back and resting against the wall, his face slack with exhaustion. The young alpha’s usually alert expression was replaced by a weariness that made Felix’s heart ache, but he couldn’t focus on Jeongin for long.

His gaze shifted to the right, and that was when he saw it—the incubator.

Time seemed to freeze.

The small, clear box sat near the wall, surrounded by machines that hummed quietly, their blinking lights casting faint glows across the room. Inside was his pup.

Felix’s vision blurred with tears as he stared at her. She was so tiny, her fragile body covered only by a diaper, her delicate skin almost translucent under the harsh light of the incubator. Wires connected to her tiny arms and legs, and a breathing mask covered her mouth and nose. Each rise and fall of her chest was faint, almost imperceptible.

A jolt of pain shot through Felix’s body, ripping a sharp whine from his throat. It wasn’t just physical pain—though his stitches throbbed angrily—but something deeper, something primal. He needed to get to her.

His omega instincts surged to the surface, driving him to move despite the agony that lanced through his abdomen. He tried sitting up, his muscles trembling with the effort. A loud, pained whine escaped his lips, and tears spilled freely down his cheeks.

He didn’t care.

“Pup…” Felix’s voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and broken as he reached for the incubator. The IV lines tugged at his arms, their resistance infuriating him. His hands trembled as he yanked one free, a sharp sting making him flinch. Blood welled up from where the needle had been, but he didn’t stop.

The second IV followed, and Felix gasped at the sharp, tearing pain in his abdomen as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His bare feet touched the cold floor, sending a shiver up his spine, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except reaching his pup.

His knees buckled the moment he stood, and he caught himself against the bed with a hiss of pain. Fresh blood seeped through the bandages around his stomach, staining the gown red, but Felix barely noticed. His eyes were locked on the incubator, his desperation giving him strength as he stumbled forward.

When he finally reached her, his hands pressed against the glass, and a sob tore from his chest. She was breathing. His pup was alive.

Felix’s tears fell harder as he stared down at her. She was so small, so fragile, and yet she was fighting. His heart swelled with love and shattered with heartbreak all at once. He wanted to hold her, to cradle her against his chest and tell her everything would be okay. But the incubator was a barrier he couldn’t break, and it left him feeling helpless.

A loud, broken whine escaped him, his omega instincts screaming for him to do something—anything—to comfort his pup. He slid to his knees, his forehead resting against the incubator as he sobbed.

“Please…” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Please, let me hold her.”

His cries must have woken Jeongin, because Felix heard the alpha’s voice, frantic and laced with worry.

“Felix?”

Felix didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His body shook with the force of his sobs, his fingers curling against the glass of the incubator as if he could somehow reach her through sheer willpower.

“Felix, stop! You’re bleeding—” Jeongin’s voice cut off as the door to the room burst open, and two nurses rushed in.

Felix barely registered their presence until hands gripped his arms, trying to pull him away from the incubator.

“No!” he cried, his voice raw and desperate. “I need her! Let me go!”

“Sir, you need to calm down,” one of the nurses said, her tone firm but gentle.

Felix thrashed against them, his strength fueled by pure instinct. “She needs me! Please, let me hold her!”

“Felix!” Jeongin’s voice was closer now, and Felix felt a familiar scent surround him as the alpha knelt beside him. “Felix, please, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

But Felix couldn’t stop. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the ache in his heart, the overwhelming need to protect his pup. He fought until his energy was completely spent, his legs giving out beneath him as the nurses carefully guided him back to the bed.

“Please,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible as they reinserted the IVs and reconnected the monitors. “I just… I just want to hold her.”

The nurses exchanged a look, their expressions softening. “She’s stable,” one of them said gently. “As soon as she’s breathing better on her own, you’ll be able to hold her. But right now, she needs the support of the machines.”

Felix let out a shuddering breath, his tears flowing freely as he stared at the incubator.

He had never felt so helpless.

Felix lay on the bed, staring at the incubator, his body too exhausted to move but his heart aching fiercely. The nurses had long finished their work—cleaning the blood, checking his stitches, and reconnecting the IVs—but their words echoed in his mind.

She’s stable. As soon as she’s breathing better on her own, you’ll be able to hold her.

It was supposed to be reassuring, but it wasn’t. His omega was restless, clawing at the edges of his consciousness with a single, desperate demand: protect your pup. But he couldn’t. All he could do was lie there, separated by a cruel distance, unable to fulfill the instinctual need to cradle her tiny body against his chest.

Tears continued to roll down his cheeks, though his sobs had quieted. The room felt too big, too empty, and his pup felt too far away. He glanced at Jeongin, who now stood hesitantly at the edge of the bed, looking unsure of what to do.

“Felix…” Jeongin’s voice was soft, uncertain, and laced with guilt.

Felix didn’t respond. The sight of his pup, so small and fragile, broke something deep inside him.

The alpha shifted awkwardly before taking a cautious step closer. “You’ll be able to hold her soon,” he said quietly. “They’re just being careful.”

Felix closed his eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Soon,” he whispered bitterly, his voice trembling. “What if it’s not soon enough?”

Jeongin froze, his expression tightening. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, as if he didn’t trust himself to find the right words.

A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the faint hum of the machines.

Felix’s mind raced, guilt and fear twisting together in an unbearable knot. Was it his fault she was so weak? Had he done something wrong? He did his best to try and protect her. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the blanket, his nails digging into the fabric.

“She’s alive, Felix,” Jeongin said softly, stepping closer. “She’s alive, and she’s strong.”

Felix let out a shaky breath, the words washing over him like a weak balm on an open wound. His voice cracked as he spoke, barely more than a whisper. “She’s so small, Jeongin… so small. What if she—”

“She’s going to be okay,” Jeongin interrupted, his voice firmer now. “She’s a fighter. Just like her eomma.”

The words hit Felix harder than he expected, a fresh wave of tears spilling down his cheeks. He wanted to believe Jeongin. He wanted to cling to that sliver of hope. But the fear was suffocating, an invisible weight pressing down on his chest.

Jeongin stepped closer, pulling a chair up beside the bed and sitting down. His movements were careful, hesitant, as if he were afraid to say or do the wrong thing.

“Have you picked a name yet?” the alpha asked after a long pause, his voice quiet but steady.

Felix blinked, the question catching him off guard. He turned his head to look at Jeongin, his tear-streaked face pale and weary. “A name?”

Jeongin nodded, his expression softening. “For our pup. Have you thought of one?”

Felix stared at him, his mind blank for a moment before a name surfaced, unbidden but perfect.

“Aera,” he whispered, the name rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

Chapter Text

Chan stood in the living room, phone pressed tightly against his ear, Jeongin’s voice trembling on the other end of the line. The soft glow from the single table lamp illuminated the room, casting shadows that felt as heavy as the worry tightening Chan’s chest. He tried to focus on Jeongin’s words, but his mind raced with what-ifs, each one worse than the last.

“I woke up to Felix,” Jeongin started, his voice cracking under the strain of suppressed panic. “He… he was trying to get to the pup.”

Chan’s heart skipped a beat, panic seeping into his veins. “Tried to get to the pup?” he repeated slowly, trying to buy himself time to process. “What do you mean? What happened, Jeongin?”

Jeongin’s breathing was unsteady, and Chan could practically hear the tension in his silence before he spoke again. “I woke up, and he was—he was pulling out his IVs. All of them. There was so much blood, hyung. The bed, the floor—everywhere.”

Chan swallowed hard, gripping his phone tighter as Jeongin’s words painted a horrifying picture in his mind. “Oh my God…” he muttered under his breath, his throat tightening with the thought of Felix in that state. “Is he okay now? Jeongin, tell me Felix is okay now.”

Jeongin’s voice wavered. “He's back in bed now. They managed to get him stabilized again, but—” His voice caught, and Chan’s chest ached at the sound of it. “Hyung, he was desperate. He wouldn’t stop saying he needed to hold the pup. He couldn’t think about anything else.”

Chan felt his pulse quicken, the weight of the situation settling heavily in his chest. He fought to keep his own voice calm, knowing that if he panicked, Jeongin would spiral even further. “Jeongin, listen to me,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “Felix is safe now. The nurses have him stabilized, right? That’s what matters.”

There was a brief pause before Jeongin exhaled shakily. “Yeah… Yeah, he’s safe now,” he murmured.

Chan nodded, even though Jeongin couldn’t see him. “Good. That’s good,” he said quietly. He could still feel the weight of Jeongin’s exhaustion through the phone. “If it's too much I can come and pick you up, I’ll pick up your car tomorrow.”

Jeongin hesitated. “I’m not leaving him, hyung. Not after this.”

Chan sighed, his free hand raking through his curls as he leaned back against the wall. “I know you won’t,” he said gently. “But I’ll come first thing tomorrow morning. You need tocome home and rest after I get there.”

Chan was about to say something else when Jeongin’s voice softened unexpectedly. “Hyung… He named the pup.”

The shift in Jeongin’s tone caught Chan off guard. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Jeongin replied, and Chan could hear the faintest trace of a smile in his voice. “He named her Aera.”

The name hit Chan like a gentle breeze, and for a moment, the weight of the night lifted ever so slightly. “Aera,” he repeated, letting the syllables roll off his tongue. It was perfect—a light, delicate name.

Jeongin hummed softly in agreement. “It suits her, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Chan said with a small smile. “It’s beautiful.”

They lingered in that brief moment of shared peace, letting the name settle between them like a balm over their wounds.

“I’ll be there early tomorrow, get some rest,” Chan said eventually, his voice resolute.

Jeongin hesitated, but finally, he relented with a quiet, “Okay.”

“I love you, Innie,” Chan said, his voice warm and sincere.

“I love you too, hyung,” Jeongin replied softly before the call ended.

Chan lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment as he processed everything Jeongin had told him.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see the others filtering into the living room. Hyunjin was the first to speak, his brows furrowing as he took in Chan’s tense posture. “What happened?”

Chan hesitated, taking a deep breath before speaking. “A lot” Before he could elaborate, Minho walked into the room.

Minho clapped his hands lightly, breaking the moment of quiet. “Dinner’s ready,” he announced, motioning toward the kitchen.

The smell of Minho’s cooking greeted Chan as he stepped into the dining room. The others had already started pulling plates and utensils from the cabinets, their movements easy and familiar.

Minho was arranging dishes on the counter. “Wash up before you eat,” he said without looking up, his tone firm but not unkind.

Chan nodded, stepping toward the sink to rinse his hands. His thoughts still lingered on Felix, on the image Jeongin had painted of him bleeding and frantic. The sound of water rushing over his hands did little to drown out the thought.

As he dried his hands, he glanced back at the table, where everyone was beginning to settle into their seats. Jisung hovered near the doorway, looking unsure of where to go, his small frame nearly blending into the shadows of the kitchen. Seungmin noticed and gently nudged him forward, guiding him to an empty chair near the corner of the table.

Minho placed the last dish on the table, taking his seat with a satisfied sigh. He glanced at Chan expectantly. “Are you going to tell us what’s on your mind, or do we have to guess?”

Chan hesitated, his fingers brushing the back of his chair as he took his seat. He could feel the weight of their gazes, each of them waiting for an answer.

“Felix named the pup,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady.

The tension in the room shifted immediately. Changbin straightened in his chair, his face lighting up with curiosity. Hyunjin leaned forward, his chin resting in his palm as he watched Chan intently. Even Jisung glanced up slightly, though his expression remained cautious.

“What’s her name?” Hyunjin asked softly, breaking the silence.

“Aera,” Chan said, letting the name settle in the air like a soft melody.

The reaction was instant. Changbin let out a low hum of approval, nodding to himself as if the name had already carved a place in his heart. Hyunjin’s lips curled into a small smile, his eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion.

“That’s beautiful,” Seungmin said, his voice warm.

Jisung stayed quiet, but his gaze flickered toward Chan briefly, something unreadable in his eyes.

“It is,” Chan agreed, his voice softer now. He could feel the corners of his mouth tugging upward, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the weight in his chest.

Minho leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Aera,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “It’s perfect.”

The others murmured their agreement, and for a moment, the room was filled with a sense of quiet joy.

As the conversation ebbed, Chan cleared his throat, drawing their attention once more. “When I spoke to Jeongin,” he began, his tone growing more serious. “I told him I was going to the hospital early tomorrow morning to let him come home and rest.”

Hyunjin frowned slightly. “Why? Is Jeongin okay?”

“He’s shaken up,” Chan admitted, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. “Felix… He was frantic. He pulled out his IVs and everything to try to get to Aera. There was a lot of blood. It—it wasn’t good.”

The warmth in the room dimmed instantly, replaced by a somber heaviness. Changbin’s smile faded, his brows knitting together in concern. Hyunjin’s hand clenched into a loose fist, his gaze dropping to the table.

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Poor Felix…” he muttered under his breath.

Chan nodded, his throat tightening as he spoke. “He just wants to hold her. That’s all. He’s hurting so much, and there’s nothing we can do to fix it right now.”

“I wish we could all go,” Hyunjin said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration.

“So do I,” Changbin agreed, his expression softening. “But it’d probably just overwhelm him.”

“Exactly,” Chan said, grateful for their understanding. “The last thing Felix needs right now is to feel crowded. I’ll go alone tomorrow and update you all after.”

The group fell silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Even Jisung seemed subdued, his gaze fixed on the edge of the table as if trying to make himself invisible.

Changbin was the first to break the silence, his tone lighter now as he spoke. “Wooyoung’s coming over tomorrow to help with the nursery,” he said, glancing at Chan. “He’s bringing Sujin and Suho with him.”

Chan’s lips twitched into a faint smile at the mention of Wooyoung’s twins. “That’s a good idea,” he said, nodding. “We need to get everything ready for when Felix and Aera come home.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Minho said firmly, his voice cutting through the lingering tension. “Whatever they need, we’ll make it happen.”

Chan nodded, his chest tightening with a mix of gratitude and determination.

As the group began to eat, Chan turned to Jisung, his voice gentle. “If there’s anything you need for your room, just let me know, okay?”

Jisung’s head jerked up slightly, his eyes wide and wary. He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chan studied him for a moment but didn’t push. “Alright,” he said softly, turning back to his plate.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, the group too lost in their thoughts to maintain much conversation. Hyunjin offered to wash the dishes once they finished, his movements precise and methodical as he cleared the table.

Meanwhile, Jisung leaned toward Seungmin, his voice so quiet that Chan barely caught the words. “Can I… take a shower?”

“Of course,” Seungmin replied, his tone warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to ask.” He stood, guiding Jisung out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Chan watched them go, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes drifted toward the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a physical burden.

There was still so much to do. The nursery needed to be finished, supplies needed to be bought, and preparations had to be made for Felix and Aera. The thought of Felix bleeding and desperate haunted him, but he couldn’t afford to falter now.

Minho’s voice broke through his thoughts as the older alpha approached, standing behind Chan’s chair. Without a word, Minho draped his arms over Chan’s shoulders, resting his chin lightly on the top of his head.

“You’re doing everything you can,” Minho said quietly, his voice steady and grounding.

Chan closed his eyes, letting himself lean into the comfort of Minho’s presence. For the first time all night, he allowed himself to exhale fully, the tension in his chest easing ever so slightly.

“Look at you,” Minho began, his tone laced with playful mischief. “Your ass looks absolutely fantastic in those pants. Seriously, it should be illegal.”

A hearty laugh erupted from Chan, causing him to shake his head in mock disbelief. “You say that every single time, you know,” he replied, amusement bubbling in his voice, the hint of a blush dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Minho hummed in response, letting his fingers brush softly along Chan's arms, the warmth of his touch igniting a spark of excitement within Chan. He began to knead the solid biceps he admired, squeezing them gently yet firmly. “I mean it, though,” he insisted, his voice dropping to a softer, more sincere tone. “But I suppose I have to give you credit—you’re really putting in the effort at the gym.”

Chan smirked, rolling his eyes while secretly savoring the compliment like a treasured secret. “Maybe I should let you punish me for being such a distraction,” he teased, leaning back against Minho’s chest, feeling the heat radiating from him.

Minho's eyes glinted with playful intensity. He tightened his grip on Chan's arms, leaning down to press soft kisses to the nape of Chan’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “If that’s the case,” he replied, his voice rich with amusement, “I might have to take you up on that offer.”

With a playful tug, Minho grasped Chan's hand, gently yet insistently pulling him to his feet. Chan's laughter rang through the kitchen, an infectious sound as Minho led him toward the stairs, their playful energy lighting up the house.

As they entered their shared room, they found Seungmin and Changbin sprawled lazily on the bed. Seungmin was lost in the pages of a thick novel, while Changbin was busy scrolling through his phone, both blissfully unaware of the world outside until their peaceful ambiance was disrupted by the sudden arrival of Minho and Chan.

“Is Chan in trouble?” Changbin queried, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward with intrigue. Seungmin glanced up, a smirk creeping onto his face as he closed his book.

“Maybe,” Minho replied, mischief dripping from his voice as he climbed onto the bed, straddling Chan's hips. Chan turned his head to look up, a playful grin forming as he placed his hands on Minho's waist, feeling a rush of excitement.

“Careful, or I might just have to make you regret that,” Chan playfully challenged, his voice airy with laughter.

Before he could say more, Minho captured his lips in a heated kiss, their mouths colliding with an urgency that set fire to the air around them. Chan let out a soft moan as their tongues danced together in a sensual competition, the kiss electrifying.

Minho pulled away, breathless, his eyes darkened with lust. He gently shoved Chan down onto the pillows, their earlier playfulness simmering into something more primal. Seungmin and Changbin exchanged knowing glances, their interest piqued as Minho quickly peeled off his shirt, exposing taut muscles to Chan's hungry gaze.

Without hesitation, Chan yanked off his own sleeveless shirt, tossing it aside, where it landed in a heap near Seungmin and Changbin. Minho seized the moment, bending down to pepper feathery kisses along Chan’s neck and chest, teasing licks that sent delightful shivers coursing through Chan's spine, trailing down toward the waistband of his sweatpants.

The air thickened with the sounds of soft moans and laughter, infused with a raw energy that invited more. “I want to join!” Seungmin whined playfully, pouting as though he was a child left out of fun. Changbin chuckled, shifting towards the edge of the bed, clearly eager to get in on the action.

Minho offered a sly smile, while Chan reached out for Seungmin's hand, pulling him closer with a flirtatious challenge in his voice. “Come on, then!”

Seungmin eagerly leaned in, pressing his lips against Chan's in a searing kiss that pulsed with an electric hunger, filling the air with a sense of urgency. Meanwhile, Minho deftly slipped Chan’s sweatpants and underwear off, exposing him fully to their voracious eyes.

As Chan gasped at the sensation of being laid bare, a moan slipped past his lips when he felt the warmth of two eager tongues teasing him from opposite sides. The intoxicating sight of Minho and Changbin attending to him ignited a fire within Chan, making his heart race and his body thrum with need.

Seungmin pulled back just enough to place tender kisses down the length of Chan's neck, nibbling softly at the mating marks that decorated his skin, drawing out desperate whimpers from Chan as he succumbed to the sensations.

At that moment, Minho took Chan's cock into his mouth, descending slowly, his warm lips enveloping Chan's length as he skillfully bobbed his head. Chan's head rolled back into the pillows, and a soft whine escaped his lips as pleasure surged through him, each movement igniting a simmering heat deep within.

Seungmin captivated Chan’s attention once more, tracing their lips together in a slow, passionate kiss that sent jolts of pleasure rippling through Chan's body. Lost in each other, they merged into a rhythm that felt beautifully perfect—everything else fading into nothing.

Just before Chan felt himself ready to cum, Minho deepthroated him in a single, swift motion, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through Chan’s being. With a muffled whimper, Minho pulled off, leaving Chan panting and desperate, striped with need that shone clearly in his eyes.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Chan gasped, his breaths frantic as he craved the connection they had established.

Minho wasted no time discarding his own shorts and underwear before settling back onto Chan’s lap, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Where’s the lube?” he asked, glancing towards Changbin.

Without missing a beat, Changbin leaped up to grab it, tossing it over with a flourish. Minho caught it easily, his fingers already preparing, he began to lather himself sensually, slipping three fingers inside as a satisfied moan escaped him.

Chan watched, entranced by Minho's sultry movements as he positioned himself above Chan's cock. With a deliberate, tantalizing descent, Minho lowered himself slowly, taking Chan inch by inch. Both of them simultaneously gasped in unison, the sensations overwhelming as they settled into a rhythm.

For a moment, they lingered there, reveling in the overwhelming sensations, allowing Minho to adjust as the air turned thick with breathy gasps and the soft sounds of their bodies connecting in the most intimate of dances. It had been far too long since they had lost themselves in each other like this, the intoxicating rush of it filling their senses.

With a newfound rhythm, Minho began to raise himself slightly before plunging back down onto Chan's cock with a forceful slam that echoed through the room. “Fuck, yes!” he groaned, the sound of their skin slapping together punctuating the charged atmosphere as he set a steady pace. Chan clasped Minho's hips firmly, guiding his movements and savoring every sensation.

“God, you’re incredible,” Chan managed to breathe, his admiration pouring out with each thrust, their bodies entwined in a symphony of pleasure that ignited every nerve.

Minho quivered beneath Chan's touch, his own high building as he clutched Chan's hands tightly. “I’m gonna cum,” he breathed, urgency lacing his voice, and that whispered admission sent a shudder of anticipation through Chan, drawing him closer to his own climax.

“Me too,” Chan gasped, urgency suffusing his voice as he thrust harder, their rhythm syncing beautifully, creating a euphoric state of bliss, as if time itself ceased to exist.

With a moan that shook his core, Minho finally came, spilling himself onto Chan's stomach. That sight sent Chan hurtling over the edge, a primal groan escaping him as he held Minho close, releasing himself deep within him.

As they both rode the waves of pleasure, the room was filled with heavy breathing and satisfied sighs. Chan's eyes wandered over to the side, noticing Changbin pumping into Seungmin, who had buried his face into a pillow, lost in his own realm of pleasure. The sight made Chan grin, warmth curling in his chest, before he turned back to Minho, who lay atop him, catching his breath, a look of pure satisfaction gracing his features.

“Looks like you might be heading into your rut soon,” Chan joked, brushing a few damp strands of hair from Minho's forehead, amusement lighting up his expression.

Minho nestled into Chan's neck, a satisfied smile gracing his face as he relaxed into the moment. “Maybe,” he murmured, a hint of mischief lingering in his voice.

Chapter Text

Seungmin stood under the hot spray of the shower, fingers working through his hair as the soothing heat of the water loosened the tension in his shoulders. The bathroom was clouded with steam, and the mirror across from him was entirely fogged over. He tilted his head back, letting the water rinse away the lather of shampoo, and sighed in contentment. The rare moments of solitude were precious, and he intended to savor them.

That was, until the door to the bathroom swung open, letting in a gust of cold air. Seungmin’s eyes snapped open, and he immediately scowled.

“Close the door!” he snapped, wiping water from his face as he glared at the figure entering the bathroom.

Hyunjin, clad in pajama pants and a loose sweatshirt, ignored the protest and perched himself on the counter near the sink. He smirked as he settled in, seemingly unfazed by Seungmin’s irritation.

“You know you’re killing all the warm air in here, right?” Seungmin grumbled, scrubbing at his scalp with extra vigor as if to channel his annoyance.

Hyunjin leaned back against the mirror, crossing his arms casually. “You’ll survive. Besides, I need a place to hide. Minho’s being unbearably clingy, and it’s freaking me out.”

Seungmin’s annoyance softened into amusement as he turned back toward the spray of the shower. “Clingy, huh? Sounds like someone’s rut is around the corner.”

“Don’t remind me,” Hyunjin groaned dramatically. “I swear, he’s like a barnacle. I can’t move without him sniffing around or touching me.”

“Well,” Seungmin said with a chuckle as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, “you’d better brace yourself. If he’s already acting like that, his rut’s probably going to hit tomorrow. We’re in for a long week.”

Hyunjin slouched against the mirror, a defeated expression crossing his face. “Great. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

With the conditioner fully rinsed, Seungmin turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack. He began drying himself off as he smirked at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, but before he could react, Seungmin closed the distance between them. He spread his arms wide and pressed his damp skin against Hyunjin’s dry clothes.

“Seungmin!” Hyunjin yelped, trying to push him away. “You’re soaked!”

Seungmin laughed, stepping back and grabbing the towel again to wrap it around his waist. “Serves you right for barging in here uninvited.”

Hyunjin glared at him, brushing at the wet patches now staining his sweatshirt. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” Seungmin retorted, grabbing his toothbrush.

As he brushed his teeth, Hyunjin shook his head in mock frustration. “Have fun walking back to our room like that.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the reminder. Now I have to brave the lion’s den.”

“See you in a few hours,” Hyunjin said with a grin, already amused by the idea of Seungmin dealing with a clingy Minho.

Seungmin flipped him off before leaving the bathroom, towel securely in place, and began making his way up the stairs.

Seungmin treaded up the stairs cautiously, the dampness of his hair making him shiver slightly as he clutched the towel tighter around his waist. The shared bedroom was just at the end of the hallway, the door cracked open slightly. He sighed, bracing himself for what awaited inside.

Pushing the door open, Seungmin immediately noticed Minho sprawled on the bed, a thin sheet draped haphazardly over his body. The alpha’s sharp eyes locked onto him the moment he stepped inside.

“Back so soon?” Minho’s voice was low, a teasing lilt to it as he watched Seungmin.

Seungmin ignored the comment, heading straight for the closet. “I just need clothes,” he muttered, rummaging through the shared space until he found a pair of sweatpants—most likely Chan’s—and one of Minho’s oversized cat-themed shirts.

He dressed quickly, pulling the shirt over his head and stepping into the pants before turning around. Minho was now sitting up, his gaze predatory and amused.

“You sure you don’t want to join me for a bit?” Minho asked, patting the space beside him on the bed.

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I’ll join you when your rut actually starts.”

Minho let out a playful whine, falling back against the pillows dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

“Not right now, I’m not.”

With Minho still pouting on the bed, Seungmin turned to leave, but he didn’t make it far before he smelt Minho’s scent cling to him. It was enough to make him hesitate for just a second before he stepped into the hallway and headed to the kitchen.

The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, and Seungmin spotted Chan at the stove, already dressed and seemingly focused on plating breakfast. Changbin and Hyunjin were lounging on the couch in the living room, watching a movie.

Seungmin took a seat at the table, glancing at a small box sitting near the edge. His curiosity piqued.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing toward the box.

Chan turned his head briefly, noticing where Seungmin was pointing. “Those are Jisung’s and Felix’s phones. They’re identical, so it doesn’t really matter who takes which one.”

Seungmin hummed thoughtfully, reaching for the box and pulling out the top phone. He placed it down on the table, intending to give it to Jisung later.

Chan continued, “I’m bringing Felix’s phone to the hospital after breakfast. Hopefully, he’ll use it to distract himself for a bit.”

Seungmin nodded absently. When Chan finished setting the table, he called out to everyone to join them.

“I’ll go get Jisung and try to convince Minho to come down,” Seungmin volunteered, though his tone was doubtful.

“Good luck with that,” Chan replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as Hyunjin and Changbin wandered into the kitchen.

Seungmin headed to Jisung’s room first, knocking lightly on the door. It took a few moments before the door creaked open, revealing a disheveled Jisung. His hair stuck out at odd angles, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep.

“Breakfast is ready,” Seungmin said simply.

Jisung nodded, rubbing his eyes as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

“I need to get Minho out of the bedroom,” Seungmin added, glancing toward the stairs. “But if he’s stubborn, I might just have to bring him food up there.”

Jisung’s voice was soft when he asked, “Is he… sick?”

Seungmin shook his head. “No, he’s about to start his rut.”

The explanation made Jisung shift uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting nervously. Seungmin watched him for a moment before gesturing toward the hallway. “You can go ahead to the kitchen. I’ll handle Minho.”

But Jisung shook his head, following Seungmin instead as they made their way upstairs. When they reached the bedroom door, Seungmin gave Jisung a reassuring glance before stepping inside.

As expected, the room was thick with Minho’s scent, a potent mixture of alpha pheromones and warmth that almost made Seungmin falter. Minho was still lounging on the bed, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp as it followed Seungmin’s every movement.

“Time to eat breakfast,” Seungmin announced, crossing the room.

Minho sighed dramatically, groaning as he stretched. “Do I have to?”

Seungmin didn’t bother answering. Instead, he grabbed Minho’s hand and yanked him upright. The sudden movement caught Minho off guard, and he stumbled into Seungmin, their laughter filling the room.

Minho’s nose brushed against Seungmin’s neck, and he inhaled deeply, his tongue flicking out to lick at Seungmin’s scent gland.

“Minho,” Seungmin groaned, pushing him away gently. “Breakfast first.”

With a playful grin, Minho allowed himself to be led out of the room.

As they stepped into the hallway, Jisung quickly backed away, his wide eyes darting nervously between Seungmin and Minho.

Together, the three of them headed downstairs and into the kitchen, where breakfast awaited.

Seungmin pushed Minho down into a chair beside Changbin before taking a seat himself. He looked back at Jisung and patted the chair next to him, a subtle but clear invitation.

Jisung hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. After a moment, he lowered himself onto the seat beside Seungmin, careful to keep his distance.

Chan worked efficiently, piling food onto plates and setting them down in front of everyone. “Eat up,” he said warmly, his gaze briefly lingering on Jisung.

Seungmin reached for something he’d set aside earlier—a phone, its surface gleaming. He slid it across the table toward Jisung.

“You’ll need this,” Seungmin said, his tone casual but kind. “We’ll add everyone’s numbers later, but for now, keep it on you.”

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly as he took the phone in both hands, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, barely audible over the clinking of plates.

The table grew quieter as everyone focused on eating. Seungmin nibbled at the edges of his toast, watching the others from the corner of his eye.

When the meal was finished, Minho leaned back in his chair, stretching lazily. He turned to Hyunjin with a sly grin. “Come on. Bed.”

Hyunjin groaned, clearly torn between irritation and amusement. “You’re exhausting,” he muttered, but he stood and grabbed Minho’s outstretched hand, pulling him toward the stairs.

Seungmin and Changbin exchanged knowing chuckles as Chan pushed back his chair. “I’m heading to the hospital,” he said, his tone lighter than usual.

Seungmin and Changbin sent off a chorus of goodbyes and soft “love you’s” as Chan left, the front door clicking shut behind him.

“Wooyoung should be here soon,” Changbin said as he started gathering plates.

Seungmin hummed before he moved to the sink to start washing dishes.

Changbin had just finished drying the last plate when the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house. “That’s him,” Changbin said, heading for the door.

Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head. “He has a key, I don't know why he doesn't just come in.”

Wooyoung’s loud voice carried into the kitchen moments later, his boisterous tone unmistakable. Jisung flinched slightly, his body tensing.

Seungmin glanced at him. “Relax,” he said gently. “Wooyoung’s an omega, and he’s got pups with him. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Jisung’s shoulders eased, if only slightly. He followed Seungmin out of the kitchen and into the living room, staying close behind him.

Wooyoung stood in the center of the room, his confident stance softened by the two pups balanced on his hips. The children were tall for their age, but Wooyoung held them with ease, his vibrant energy making the space feel warmer.

“Finally,” Wooyoung teased, shooting a playful look at Changbin. “Took you long enough.”

“You could’ve let yourself in,” Changbin retorted, rolling his eyes.

Wooyoung grinned as he set the pups down. Sujin, the smaller of the two, immediately clung to Wooyoung’s leg, while Suho dashed toward the couch, climbing onto it with surprising speed.

Changbin ruffled Suho’s hair on his way to the TV, switching the channel to a cartoon. The boy cheered, his focus glued to the screen.

Wooyoung and Changbin took charge of the nursery preparations, diving into the task with an easy rhythm. They assembled furniture, painted walls, and discussed layouts.

Seungmin watched as Sujin started walking over to Jisung. The little girl wrapped herself around his leg, her tiny hands gripping tightly.

Jisung froze, his face pale.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Seungmin said with a chuckle amused by the other omega’s discomfort.

“I—um—” Jisung stammered, glancing down at Sujin, who looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes.

“Have you ever been around pups before?” Seungmin asked, still smiling.

Jisung shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper.

Seungmin’s laughter was warm but not mocking. “You’ll get used to it.”

The nursery came together piece by piece. Seungmin felt an odd sense of satisfaction watching the room transform. The soft pink walls added a calm softness, complimenting the pale wood of the crib and dresser Changbin and Wooyoung had argued over for a solid ten minutes.

“Near the window makes more sense,” Wooyoung had huffed, dragging one side of the dresser.

“And I told you,” Changbin countered, planting his feet firmly on the floor, “It looks awkward near the window!”

Seungmin chuckled to himself, opting not to intervene. Those two were chaotic, but he knew they’d come to an agreement eventually.

Jisung stood near the doorway, still holding Sujin close to his chest. The little pup had fallen asleep a while ago, her tiny arms hanging loosely around his neck. Despite Jisung’s nervous aura, there was something peaceful about the way he held her. His shoulders were tense, and his movements were hesitant, but he didn’t seem to mind the weight of her or the warmth of her small form tucked into him.

Seungmin tilted his head, studying the omega. “Take a break,” he said softly, keeping his tone casual to avoid startling him.

Jisung blinked and turned slightly, his wide eyes locking onto Seungmin. “I-I’m fine,” he stammered, shifting Sujin slightly to adjust her weight.

“You’ve been holding her for over an hour,” Seungmin pointed out with a raised brow. “I’m pretty sure your arms are going to fall off.”

Jisung hesitated, his grip tightening on Sujin as though he wasn’t ready to let her go. The sight tugged at something in Seungmin’s chest. There was an innocence to Jisung’s actions.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Seungmin said, his voice gentler now. “I can hold her for a while if you need a breather.”

Jisung shook his head quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s fine with me… I don’t mind.”

Seungmin didn’t push further, instead letting his gaze linger on the way Jisung instinctively swayed ever so slightly to keep the pup settled. It wasn’t something Jisung had done before; clearly, he was new to being around pups. And yet, Sujin looked completely at ease.

Wooyoung’s voice broke the moment. “Hey, Changbin, can you stop being stubborn for two seconds and just admit I was right about the dresser placement?”

“Right? You’re delusional,” Changbin shot back.

Seungmin sighed and turned to watch the two men go at it again. “If you two are going to argue, at least pretend to measure things this time.”

The men grumbled but grabbed the tape measure Seungmin tossed at them, momentarily distracted from their bickering.

He glanced back at Jisung, who was now gazing down at Sujin with an almost puzzled expression, as though he couldn’t quite believe how peaceful she looked in his arms. Seungmin smirked.

“You’re a natural, you know,” he commented.

Jisung’s head snapped up. “What?”

“With pups,” Seungmin clarified, gesturing toward Sujin. “You might not realize it, but you’re good with her.”

Jisung’s cheeks turned pink, and he looked away, mumbling, “I’m just holding her…”

“Sure,” Seungmin said lightly, letting the conversation drop as he moved to check on the rest of the nursery progress.

The space was starting to come alive now. Wooyoung and Changbin had finally agreed on the layout, and the furniture was neatly arranged. Wooyoung hummed as he sorted through decorations while Changbin meticulously labeled the drawers in the dresser.

Just as Seungmin stepped back to take it all in, Sujin stirred in Jisung’s arms, letting out a soft whine.

“Looks like someone’s waking up,” Seungmin said, glancing over his shoulder.

Jisung froze, looking panicked. “What do I do?”

“Relax,” Seungmin said with a chuckle. “She probably just needs to be rocked a bit. Or give her to Wooyoung.”

But before Jisung could hand her over, Sujin lifted her head groggily and snuggled closer to him, her small hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. Jisung’s eyes widened, and he hesitated before shifting her slightly to make her more comfortable.

Seungmin felt a warm smile tug at his lips. “See? She likes you.”

As the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air, mixing with the faint, sweet scent of the pups. Sujin was still nestled in Jisung’s arms, her small body occasionally twitching as she slept, and Seungmin couldn’t help but glance at them every now and then.

Jisung was still clearly out of his element, his eyes flickering nervously from one person to the next. But despite his hesitation, there was a certain tenderness in the way he held Sujin. It was a quiet thing, but it was there. Seungmin had seen it before, in the way Jisung interacted with Felix, that quiet, protective streak he didn’t even seem to notice in himself.

Seungmin’s attention was pulled away by a loud bang, followed by a sharp groan. He turned just in time to see Changbin half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, rubbing his back. Wooyoung was grinning from ear to ear, clearly delighted at the sight.

“You’re about to break your back, old man,” Wooyoung teased, crossing his arms.

“Old man?” Changbin shot back, rolling onto his feet with a wince. “I’m barely older than you, Wooyoung, don’t act like you’re the spring chicken here.”

Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head. “If you two keep this up, I’m going to give you both a bad review.”

Wooyoung winked at him. “You’d be a killjoy.”

“Yeah, I’m good at that,” Seungmin replied with a grin, before turning his attention back to Jisung. Seungmin was about to say something when a soft voice interrupted.

“Do you think… I’m doing okay?” Jisung asked, looking up at him. His eyes were wide, and there was a vulnerability to his gaze that Seungmin hadn’t noticed before.

Seungmin blinked, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t a question he’d expected, but he could see that Jisung was genuinely unsure of himself.

“You’re doing fine,” Seungmin said, his voice firm. “Honestly, better than I thought you would. Sujin seems to think you’re doing just fine.”

Jisung’s gaze softened, but he still seemed unsure, as if seeking validation. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not sure how to be around pups.“

Seungmin smiled softly, “you’re doing just fine.”

“Thanks,” Jisung whispered, his voice barely audible.

Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, followed by footsteps and voices that Seungmin immediately recognized. Jeongin’s voice rang out, tired but affectionate. “Hey.”

Seungmin turned to see Jeongin stepping into the room, his tired eyes lighting up when he saw the nursery. His posture was slightly slumped from exhaustion, but there was still a soft smile on his face as he surveyed the room.

“Hey, Jeongin,” Seungmin greeted him. “It’s coming together. Almost done.”

“I’ll help finish up,” Jeongin said.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me get you a chair. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Jeongin waved him off with a tired grin. “I’m fine. I just need a bit of water.”

“Go sit down, Jeongin,” Seungmin insisted, “and let the rest of us handle this. You’re going to end up face-first in a wall if you keep pushing yourself.”

Jeongin huffed but didn’t argue. Seungmin watched the alpha leave, probably heading to go get something to drink.

They worked together in a comfortable rhythm, organizing the last bits of the nursery. The room looked perfect—cozy, with soft pastel colors on the walls and little touches that made it feel inviting. The shelves were stocked with stuffed animals, books, and small trinkets.

Once the last piece of furniture was in place, everyone stood back to admire the work they’d done. Woyoung let out a satisfied breath, glancing around the room. “Looks great, huh?” he said, a smile tugging at his lips, before he added, “I think this is one of the nicest nurseries I’ve ever helped put together.”

Changbin rolled his eyes. “You only say that because you didn’t have to move the furniture around thirty times.”

“I didn’t mind,” Wooyoung replied breezily.

Wooyoung’s smile softened as he reached for Sujin, who was peacefully asleep in Jisung’s arms. “Well, I guess its time for us to go.”

Jisung handed Sujin over gently as Wooyoung took the little girl. Wooyoung gave Jisung a warm, reassuring look. “Thanks for holding her.”

He scooped up Suho, who had been playing nearby, and took both pups in his arms as he waved goodbye. “See you all soon.”

After the door clicked shut behind them, the house grew quiet. But just as the silence settled, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Hyunjin stumbled into the kitchen, looking worn and bleary-eyed. He groaned as he leaned against the doorway, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Minho’s rut has started,” he muttered, his tone thick with exhaustion. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Chapter Text

Seungmin lay sprawled across Minho’s chest, both of them catching their breath. The alpha beneath him hummed softly, nibbling at Seungmin’s neck. The gentle scrape of teeth against his skin sent a shiver through Seungmin’s body, equal parts pleasure and irritation.

“Do you ever get tired?” Seungmin muttered, his voice rough and barely above a whisper. His muscles ached, his legs felt like jelly, and Minho’s knot still hadn’t gone down.

Minho chuckled low in his throat, his hands tracing patterns down Seungmin’s back. “Not when it comes to you,” he murmured hotly.

Seungmin huffed, his face pressed against Minho’s collarbone. “You’re insufferable.”

“Hmm, but you love it.”

Seungmin didn’t bother arguing. He was too exhausted to fight against the truth.

From his other side, Hyunjin groaned loudly, the sound full of complaint. “I’m starving,” Hyunjin grumbled as he sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. His neck and shoulders were covered in fresh bite marks, vivid against his pale skin, and his disheveled appearance made him look completely undone.

Seungmin turned his head slightly, watching as Hyunjin threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Ordering food,” Hyunjin replied, his voice flat.

Minho growled immediately, low and warning. His arms tightened around Seungmin’s waist as his possessive instincts flared. “No one’s leaving the bed,” Minho snapped, his voice carrying an edge of command.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, lifting a hand to cup Minho’s face and turn his attention back to him. “Calm down, big guy.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Minho’s neck. The growl softened into a quiet hum of satisfaction.

Taking the opportunity, Hyunjin slipped off the bed, quickly pulling on some clothes. “I’ll be back soon,” he said over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.

The bed shifted as Seungmin turned his attention to the rest of his mates. Changbin was still fast asleep, sprawled out on Minho’s other side. His chest rose and fell steadily, completely unbothered by the noise around him.

Jeongin, however, was wide awake, leaning against the headboard with his phone in hand. His neck bore the same marks as Hyunjin’s, his usually sharp gaze softened with a haze.

“Why are you still awake?” Seungmin asked, arching an eyebrow at the younger alpha.

Jeongin looked up from his phone, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said simply, his voice hoarse.

Finally, Minho’s knot deflated, and Seungmin wasted no time climbing off of him. He ignored Minho’s whine of protest as Jeongin moved to distract him, crawling over Changbin to capture Minho’s lips in a slow, heated kiss.

“Thanks for the save,” Seungmin muttered under his breath, pulling on a pair of underwear. His legs wobbled slightly as he stood, and he cursed Minho under his breath for his relentless stamina.

The sound of Minho and Jeongin’s kiss deepening filled the room as Seungmin slipped out the door. He ran a hand through his messy hair, muttering softly to himself.

The faint scent of fresh air greeted him as he walked down the stairs, at least Minho’s scent hadn't traveled out of the room yet. He stopped at the bottom, freezing when his eyes landed on Jisung.

The omega was standing in the hallway, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. His eyes widened as he took in Seungmin’s appearance, flicking to the bite marks littering his neck and shoulders.

Seungmin cursed under his breath. “I’m not hurt,” he said quickly, his tone soft but firm.

Jisung didn’t respond. His hands trembled, his body tense as he backed away a step.

“Jisung—hey, it’s okay,” Seungmin said, taking a cautious step forward.

But the omega panicked, shaking his head as his breathing grew uneven. He looked like a cornered animal, and Seungmin’s heart ached at the sight.

Without thinking, Seungmin closed the distance between them, pulling Jisung into a firm but gentle hug. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe. I promise.”

Jisung shook in his arms, his small frame trembling violently as his breathing quickened. Seungmin tried to comfort him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and whispering soft reassurances, but nothing seemed to help.

“Jisung, breathe,” Seungmin urged, pulling back slightly to look at the omega’s face.

That’s when he felt it—the faint warmth radiating off of Jisung’s skin. Seungmin cursed under his breath as realization hit him.

Jisung’s scent was growing sweeter. Seungmin stepped back quickly, his eyes widening in alarm. He forgot that he was covered in Minho’s scent, thick and heavy from the alpha’s rut, and that was dangerous for an unmated omega.

“Shit,” Seungmin muttered as Jisung wobbled slightly, his scent intensifying. He reached out, grabbing the omega’s arm softly to steady him.

“Come on,” Seungmin said gently, guiding Jisung back toward his room. “Let’s get you settled.”

Jisung clung to him, his breathing shallow and uneven as they made their way down the hall. Seungmin’s heart pounded in his chest as he helped the omega onto the bed, tucking the blankets around him.

“I’ll be right back,” Seungmin said, his voice steady despite the panic bubbling in his chest. “I’m going to get something to help you.”

He hurried out of the room, his mind racing as he made his way back upstairs.

Seungmin pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside, the thick scent of sex immediately hitting him. His nose scrunched slightly, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the overwhelming aroma.

Minho was on top of Jeongin, pinning the younger alpha to the mattress. Jeongin’s head tilted back as Minho pressed a trail of heated kisses down his neck, both of them completely lost in the moment.

Seungmin cleared his throat loudly, snapping their attention to him. Jeongin’s head turned, his face flushed as he glanced at Seungmin, still pinned beneath Minho.

“I need to grab something,” Seungmin said quickly, crossing the room without waiting for a response.

Minho growled low in his throat, clearly displeased at the interruption, but he didn’t stop Seungmin. He had his teeth teasingly grazing Jeongin’s throat, keeping his attention fully on the alpha beneath him.

Seungmin dropped to his knees beside the dresser and yanked his backpack open, rifling through its contents. His hands shook slightly as he searched, pulling out a small container of heat suppressant pills.

“These should work,” he muttered to himself, though uncertainty gnawed at him. The pills were designed for his heats, tailored to his body chemistry—not Jisung’s. Still, it was better than nothing.

Seungmin stood, shoving the container into his pocket before hurrying out of the room. He ignored Jeongin’s questioning gaze, his focus solely on getting back to Jisung as quickly as possible.

When he returned to Jisung’s room, the sight before him made his stomach twist.

Jisung was curled into a tight ball on the bed, his hands gripping the blankets as soft whines escaped his lips. His scent was almost overpowering now, sickly sweet and clinging to the air around him.

“Jisung,” Seungmin called softly, stepping closer to the bed.

The omega’s head lifted slightly, his hazy eyes meeting Seungmin’s. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his breathing was shallow.

Seungmin knelt beside the bed, quickly unscrewing the container and pulling out a few pills. “I need you to take these,” he said gently, holding them out. “They’ll help.”

Jisung blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused as he opened his mouth obediently.

“Good,” Seungmin murmured, slipping the pills into Jisung’s mouth. He grabbed the water bottle from the bedside table, holding it to Jisung’s lips and helping him drink.

Once Jisung swallowed, his whines gradually began to subside. Seungmin sighed in relief, setting the water bottle down and leaning back slightly.

It didn’t take long for Jisung to drift off, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to sleep.

Seungmin stood carefully, making sure not to disturb the omega. He took a moment to adjust the blankets around Jisung, ensuring he was comfortable before heading to the door.

He closed it softly behind him, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. As he turned, he nearly ran into Hyunjin, who was carrying several bags of food.

“Whoa,” Hyunjin said, stepping back with a faint smile. “Where’s the fire?”

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No fire. Just…dealing with something,” he muttered.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, he glanced towards the door. “Changbin’s car isn’t here. Did he go to the studio?”

“Probably,” Seungmin replied with a shrug.

Hyunjin hummed thoughtfully, then carried the bags into the kitchen. Seungmin followed, watching as Hyunjin began unpacking the food and transferring it onto plates.

“I doubt Minho will eat,” Hyunjin said after a moment, glancing over his shoulder. “But I got him something just in case.”

Seungmin nodded, grabbing a few plates and helping Hyunjin arrange the food. Together, they carried the plates upstairs, re-entering the room where Minho and Jeongin were tangled together.

Jeongin looked up immediately, his eyes lighting up when he saw the food. He sat up, grabbing one of the plates with a tired but grateful smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly, digging in without hesitation.

Minho, on the other hand, showed no interest in eating. His sharp gaze was fixed on Seungmin and Hyunjin, the corners of his lips twitching upward in a lazy smirk.

“Food smells good,” Minho drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “But I can think of something better to eat.”

“Seriously?” Seungmin deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at the alpha.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he handed Jeongin another plate. “Ignore him. He’s impossible during his rut.”

“Impossible all the time,” Seungmin added, earning a low chuckle from Jeongin.

As they ate, Seungmin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He set his plate down, fishing it out and glancing at the screen.

It was Chan.

Seungmin answered, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

“How’s Minho?” Chan’s voice came through the line, calm but curious.

“He’s fine,” Seungmin replied, “Just…being Minho.”

Chan chuckled softly. “Sounds about right.”

“Listen,” Seungmin began, glancing toward the door. “We need to make an appointment for Jisung soon. He’s going to need heat suppressants.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “What happened?” Chan asked, his tone growing serious.

Seungmin explained briefly, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear. When he finished, Chan sighed heavily.

“I’ll make the appointment,” Chan said finally.

“Thanks,” Seungmin murmured. “Oh, and…how’s Felix?”

“He’s doing better,” Chan replied, his voice softening. “He’s eating well, and he hasn’t been fighting with the nurses.”

Seungmin smiled faintly, relief washing over him. “That’s good.”

They ended the call shortly after, and Seungmin pocketed his phone. He picked up the empty plates, gathering them to take downstairs.

Seungmin carried the plates downstairs, the faint clatter of dishes breaking the stillness of the kitchen as he began washing them. He let the warm water run over his hands, the repetitive motion grounding him as he scrubbed each plate clean.

The quiet allowed his thoughts to wander back to Jisung. The omega’s panicked expression, the trembling in his hands, and the overwhelming sweetness of his scent still lingered in Seungmin’s mind. The image left a heavy weight on his chest, a pang of guilt curling in his stomach.

He sighed, rinsing the last plate and setting it on the drying rack. Just as he turned to grab a towel, he froze.

Jisung was standing in the doorway.

The omega’s face was flushed, his skin slick with sweat as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. His wide eyes locked onto Seungmin, and the sweetness of his scent filled the air again—stronger this time.

“Jisung?” Seungmin said softly, dropping the towel as he stepped closer.

The omega didn’t respond. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he let out a soft whine, his legs wobbling slightly.

Seungmin cursed under his breath, quickly drying his hands on a towel before approaching the trembling omega.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, keeping his voice calm and soothing. He placed a gentle hand on Jisung’s arm, careful not to startle him.

Jisung’s eyes darted to Seungmin’s neck, his gaze lingering on the faint bite marks still visible. A flash of fear crossed his face, and he took a step back, his body tense. The omega’s trembling only worsened, and Seungmin could feel the heat radiating off him in waves.

“Shit,” Seungmin muttered, his mind racing. He couldn’t leave Jisung like this—it was dangerous, and the omega’s body wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Taking a deep breath, Seungmin gently grasped Jisung’s arm, guiding him toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your room.”

Jisung clung to him, his breathing labored as they walked down the hall together. By the time they reached his room, the omega’s legs were barely supporting him, and Seungmin had to half-carry him to the bed.

He laid Jisung down carefully, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. The omega whimpered softly, his hands clutching at the blankets as his body shuddered.

Seungmin crouched beside the bed, his brows furrowing as he watched Jisung. “You’re okay,” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush Jisung’s hair away from his damp forehead. “You just need to rest.”

Jisung let out a quiet whine, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before snapping open again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Seungmin reassured him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll stay here until you’re calm.”

The omega’s breathing slowed slightly at those words, his trembling easing bit by bit. Seungmin felt a brief flicker of relief—until Jisung’s hand darted out, grabbing his wrist with surprising strength.

Seungmin froze, his gaze dropping to the small hand clinging to him. “What is it?”

Jisung’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His brows knitted together, his expression almost pleading as he tugged lightly on Seungmin’s wrist.

“You… want me to stay?” Seungmin guessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The omega nodded, his grip tightening.

Seungmin sighed, glancing toward the door as though searching for an escape that didn’t exist. He’d been hoping to avoid this, but the look on Jisung’s face made it impossible to refuse.

“Alright,” he said softly, shifting to lie down beside Jisung.

The omega wasted no time. The moment Seungmin was on the bed, Jisung curled into him, burying his face in Seungmin’s neck. His small body trembled against Seungmin’s, his hands clutching at his chest as though it were a lifeline.

Seungmin tensed for a moment before forcing himself to relax. He wrapped an arm around Jisung, holding him securely but gently.

“There,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You’re safe now. Just rest.”

Jisung let out a soft sigh, his breathing evening out as the tension drained from his body.

Seungmin stared at the ceiling, his mind racing despite the quiet around them. Jisung had been through so much already, and now his body was betraying him on top of everything else.

They needed to get him pills.

For now, though, all Seungmin could do was hold him and hope it was enough.

Chapter Text

Jisung woke slowly, his eyes fluttering open to the soft glow of the light coming from the lamp. His first instinct was to bury himself deeper into the warmth surrounding him. His body ached—his head throbbed, his muscles protested every tiny movement, and his more sensitive areas screamed with pain.

But there was a comfort here too, the warmth of another omega pressed against him, steady and grounding.

He let out a soft whine as he snuggled closer, feeling an almost desperate need to be nearer, to bury himself into the safety that Seungmin provided. Jisung’s arms tightened slightly around the other omega, seeking solace in the shared space.

Seungmin remained fast asleep, his even breaths tickling the side of Jisung’s neck. Jisung’s gaze drifted downward, taking in the peaceful expression on Seungmin’s face, the rise and fall of his chest, and—he paused, his stomach twisting—the marks on his skin.

Hickeys and faint bite marks dotted Seungmin’s neck and shoulders, standing out starkly against his pale skin. They didn’t look like they hurt, but Jisung’s stomach still churned.

He tried to look away, but his eyes lingered on the evidence of something he couldn’t quite comprehend. The marks weren’t like the ones he’d seen in the past—marks born of cruelty and possession. These looked… different, almost gentle, yet they left Jisung feeling queasy all the same.

A sharp pang in his lower back forced his thoughts elsewhere, and he stifled a pained whimper. Everything hurt. His body felt heavy, and he was drenched in sweat.

His nose wrinkled slightly as he realized how sticky his clothes were against his skin. He felt a twinge of guilt. Seungmin had to be suffering next to him, but Jisung couldn’t bring himself to let go.

Not until he noticed how hot Seungmin felt beneath him.

Jisung froze, his heart beginning to race. Seungmin’s skin was almost burning under his touch, and the dampness of his clothes wasn’t just Jisung’s sweat—it must be Seungmin’s too.

Panic flared in his chest as he scrambled backward, untangling himself from Seungmin’s hold. His body protested every movement, sharp waves of pain shooting through him, but he ignored it. He quickly slipped off the bed.

When he was free, he leaned down and carefully pressed his hand to Seungmin’s forehead. The omega’s skin was scorching to the touch.

Jisung’s heart sank. Was Seungmin sick? Did he cause it?

His breathing quickened as panic began to set in, his mind racing with what to do. He glanced at the door, hesitation rooting him in place. He didn’t want to leave the room—not the small, safe space that had become his sanctuary. But he needed to help the omega somehow.

He took a shaky step toward the door, his hand trembling as he reached for the handle. He cracked it open just enough to peek out, his wide eyes scanning the empty hallway.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Taking a deep breath, Jisung slipped out, his footsteps light and cautious as he padded down the hall. His heart pounded with every step, the open space around him leaving him feeling exposed.

He stopped abruptly when a strong scent hit him, heavy and musky. His gaze snapped forward, and his breath caught in his throat.

Minho was standing at the end of the hallway, shirtless, clad only in a pair of loose sweatpants. A water bottle dangled from his hand, and his damp hair clung to his forehead. He looked half-asleep, his eyes bleary and dark circles evident beneath them.

The alpha’s gaze landed on Jisung, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Jisung whimpered softly, his body stiffening. Of all the people to run into, Minho was the last one he wanted to see.

The alpha frowned slightly, tilting his head as he looked Jisung over. “What are you doing out here?” Minho’s voice was rough with sleep, his tone almost accusatory.

Jisung dropped his gaze to the floor, the words catching in his throat. Being near Minho made his body feel strange—hot and tingling in a way he couldn’t afford to acknowledge. He bit his lip, forcing himself to answer. “I… I think Seungmin is sick.”

Minho’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “Sick? Did you check?”

Jisung quickly shook his head and took a step back, darting past the alpha before he could say more. His breathing was heavy as he hurried into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

He let out a shaky exhale, leaning against the door as he tried to calm his racing heart. The alpha’s scent still clung to him, making it hard to think.

With trembling hands, he grabbed a clean rag and soaked it under cold water. The coolness was a welcome relief against his clammy skin, grounding him enough to focus.

Jisung wrung out the rag and took a deep breath, clutching it tightly as he opened the door.

The hallway felt impossibly long as Jisung stepped out of the bathroom. His bare feet barely made a sound against the cool floor, but the silence around him felt deafening. He clutched the damp rag in his hands trying to ignore the faint tremor in his fingers.

He froze mid-step when he saw Minho leaning against the wall just outside his room. The alpha’s arms were crossed loosely over his chest, the water bottle now forgotten on the floor beside him. His head was tilted back against the wall, eyes half-closed, though they flicked to Jisung the moment he emerged.

Jisung’s body tensed instinctively. The way the alpha looked at him—casual but sharp, assessing—made him want to retreat back into the bathroom and lock the door.

“You don’t look too good,” Minho said, his voice low and gravelly, like he was still waking up.

Jisung pressed his lips into a thin line, avoiding the alpha’s piercing gaze. The words swirled in his mind, but his throat felt too tight to let them out. He hated how vulnerable he felt under Minho’s scrutiny, like the alpha could see every fracture and insecurity he tried to hide.

“I… I need to get back,” Jisung finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. He kept his head down, eyes fixed on the rag in his hands as he started to move past Minho.

But the alpha didn’t budge from his spot, his frame still blocking part of the hallway.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Minho said, his tone calm but firm. “What’s wrong with Seungmin?”

Jisung’s breath hitched. He stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t dare look up. The tension in the air pressed down on him, and his omega instincts screamed at him to run, to get away before things turned dangerous.

He clutched the rag tighter, the cool dampness soothing against his overheated palms. “He’s… hot. Like he has a fever.”

Minho hummed thoughtfully, his gaze still fixed on Jisung. “Want me to check on him?”

“No!” Jisung’s response came too quickly, too sharp. He glanced up for a split second, catching the brief flicker of surprise on the alpha’s face before he averted his gaze again.

He didn’t wait for Minho to say anything else. With hurried steps, he darted around the alpha, his pulse racing as he headed back toward the bedroom.

The sound of Minho’s soft chuckle followed him.

Jisung didn’t stop until he was back in the room, the door clicking shut behind him. He exhaled shakily, leaning against the door for a moment as he tried to calm the frantic pounding of his heart.

Seungmin hadn’t moved. He still lay sprawled on the bed, his cheeks flushed and strands of damp hair clinging to his forehead.

Jisung padded over quietly, his knees wobbling slightly as he knelt beside the bed. He gently pushed Seungmin’s hair back, exposing his forehead before carefully placing the cool rag against his skin.

The omega let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing slightly under the cold touch.

Jisung chewed on his bottom lip, his gaze lingering on Seungmin’s flushed face. “You’ll feel better soon,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure Seungmin or himself.

The faint creak of the door made his blood run cold.

He turned quickly, his heart sinking when he saw Minho standing in the doorway.

The alpha’s broad frame filled the entrance, and though his expression was neutral, his presence alone was enough to make Jisung’s nerves flare.

Jisung instinctively rose to his feet, his body going rigid. His mind raced with everything he knew about alphas—how their instincts could turn dangerous when an omega was vulnerable or unwell.

He needed Minho to leave.

A low, warning growl slipped from his throat as he took a step forward, his movements shaky but determined. The sound surprised even himself, but he didn’t back down.

Minho’s brow quirked in curiosity as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone light but laced with amusement.

Jisung didn’t answer. He forced himself to take another step, closing the distance between them until he was just inches away from the alpha.

His hands trembled as he raised them, pressing firmly against Minho’s chest.

The alpha’s skin was warm under his touch—almost too warm—and the sensation sent an unsettling shiver through Jisung’s body. It took every ounce of his willpower not to pull away, his instincts warring between fear and the desperate need to protect Seungmin.

To his surprise, Minho didn’t resist. The alpha smirked faintly but stepped back, allowing Jisung to push him out of the doorway.

Jisung wasted no time. The moment Minho was clear of the door, he quickly stepped back and shut it firmly, locking it for good measure.

His heart was racing, his breaths uneven as he leaned against the door.

Minho’s voice came muffled through the wood. “Why’d you push me?”

Jisung didn’t respond. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself.

“You know,” Minho continued, “Seungmin’s fine. He gets like that when he’s around the same scent for too long. Let him sleep it off. He’ll be better in a few hours.”

Jisung’s brows furrowed. He didn’t know if he should believe him. The words seemed sincere, but everything in him screamed not to trust the alpha.

He pressed his ear against the door, listening for the sound of retreating footsteps. When he heard Minho’s steps fade down the hall, he finally exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

But the silence that followed was unbearable.

Seungmin was still asleep, his breathing soft and even. Jisung glanced at him, his chest tightening with loneliness. He didn’t want to be alone.

His feet moved before he could stop them, carrying him out of the room.

The living room was dim, bathed in the faint light of the moon filtering through the curtains. Jisung hesitated at the edge of the hallway, his feet hovering over the threshold as his eyes fell on Minho.

The alpha was sprawled on the couch, his legs stretched out lazily in front of him. His head was tilted back against the cushions, and his chest rose and fell steadily as if he hadn’t a care in the world. A sharp contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside Jisung.

Jisung swallowed hard. Every instinct told him to turn back, to retreat to the bedroom where Seungmin lay, even if it meant being alone with his racing thoughts. But his feet didn’t move.

He couldn’t explain the pull, the way his omega resisted the isolation. The thought of sitting in that silent room, wrapped in his fear and pain, was unbearable.

Taking a deep breath, Jisung shuffled forward. Each step was slow, hesitant, and his hands clenched at his sides as if bracing for something to go wrong.

Minho didn’t react.

Jisung stopped at the far end of the couch, standing awkwardly as he debated whether or not to sit. The alpha’s presence was overwhelming, his scent thicker here—earthy, musky, and tinged with something that made Jisung’s skin prickle.

“You just going to stand there all night?” Minho’s voice broke the silence, low and rough like gravel. He didn’t open his eyes, but the faint curve of his lips betrayed his amusement.

Jisung’s shoulders tensed. He opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. Finally, he settled for shaking his head, though the gesture felt meaningless with the alpha’s eyes still closed.

After a long pause, Jisung slowly sank down on the very edge of the couch, keeping as much distance as possible between them. His hands fidgeted nervously in his lap, and his gaze darted around the room, avoiding Minho.

The silence stretched again, heavy and suffocating.

Minho didn’t say anything else. His breathing remained slow and even, his body relaxed against the cushions as if Jisung’s presence barely registered.

Jisung’s eyes flicked to him briefly, taking in the dark shadows under his eyes and the faint claw marks that trailed along his forearms. The alpha looked… tired. Exhausted, even. It was strange to see someone so imposing looking so worn down.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

The minutes dragged on, and Jisung’s omega whined softly in the back of his mind. The distance felt unbearable. His body ached, his heart pounded, and he could feel the familiar sting of tears threatening to surface.

Before he realized it, he was inching closer.

It was a slow process, each shift of his body cautious and deliberate. He moved as if testing the waters, half-expecting Minho to react or push him away. But the alpha remained still, his eyes still shut and his expression unreadable.

Jisung bit his lip, his movements becoming bolder as the need for comfort grew stronger.

When he was finally close enough that their thighs brushed, he froze. The heat radiating from Minho’s body was startling, and it sent a shiver through Jisung’s frame.

His omega settled slightly, the proximity easing some of the tension in his chest. But the fear remained, clawing at the edges of his mind and keeping him rigid.

Minho shifted slightly, letting out a low hum as if he was adjusting himself in his sleep.

Jisung’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he watched for any sign of wakefulness. But the alpha didn’t stir further, his breathing returning to its slow, steady rhythm.

The moment felt surreal.

Jisung’s mind screamed at him to pull away, to put space between them before something went wrong. But his body refused to move. The warmth was soothing, and despite the lingering fear, his omega was content.

His eyes grew heavier with each passing second, his body slowly relaxing against the heat and the faint, rhythmic sound of Minho’s breathing.

He didn’t even realize he was dozing off until his head lightly bumped against the alpha’s shoulder.

Chapter Text

Minho woke up suddenly, his body drenched in sweat, a sharp headache pounding against his skull. His breath came fast, like he had been running, and he felt strangely hot, a discomfort spreading through his body. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus through the fog that clouded his mind. His nose twitched, and there it was—the scent that hit him like a tidal wave.

Sweet, intoxicating… omega.

The scent wasn’t Felix’s or Seungmin’s. No, this one was different—familiar in a way that left Minho both confused and stirred. It wasn’t the rich chocolate scent he’d grown used to with Felix, or the fresh mint scent of Seungmin. This was something else. Something fresh, like the sharp sweetness of honey and spring flowers, something he couldn’t quite place but felt an intense desire to inhale deeper.

His alpha was starved for the scent of an omega. Minho’s breath hitched as the sweet fragrance wrapped around him, seeping into his senses. He felt his chest tighten, his pulse quickening.

Minho’s confusion grew as his mind fought to catch up with his surroundings. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, but it took a moment for him to understand why everything felt so off. His gaze locked onto the figure next to him. The omega had his head resting on Minho’s shoulder, soft breaths escaping his lips.

Jisung.

The omega had fallen asleep against him, unknowingly pressing his warmth into Minho’s side. His soft, steady breathing filled Minho’s senses, each exhale making his body hum with something primal.

The alpha in Minho wanted to pull the omega closer, to bury his face in Jisung’s hair and inhale that sweet scent deeper. His instincts screamed at him to claim Jisung, to make him his. But there was a part of him—another voice in his head—that fought against it.

Jisung wasn’t his. He wasn’t his mate.

But still, Minho couldn’t ignore the way the omega’s scent seemed to call to him, like it was meant for him. It was wrong. So wrong. Jisung wasn’t supposed to make him feel this way.

His hands were clammy, his forehead sweating as the heat coursed through him. Minho glanced at the clock on his phone, his heart sinking. Shit. The next wave of his rut was coming. He could feel the familiar stirring in his blood, the growing urgency, the need for contact with an omega—any omega.

But not Jisung.

Minho cursed silently, swearing under his breath. He needed to remove Jisung from him. He needed to get up, to get away before his rut fully took over and his instincts became uncontrollable. He couldn’t afford to do anything stupid.

Minho shifted carefully, trying not to disturb the omega. He didn’t want to wake him, didn’t want to make this worse than it already was. He needed to move, to distance himself before things spiraled out of control. But just as Minho started to sit up, he heard the sound of the front door opening.

Minho’s heart lurched in his chest as he froze, turning his head toward the sound. He could hear footsteps approaching, growing louder with each step. His body tensed, and he was about to move Jisung off of him when Changbin’s voice rang out, his tone unmistakable.

“Minho,” Changbin said, his voice laced with confusion. Then, as his eyes landed on Minho and Jisung, his expression shifted, darkening with anger. “What the hell are you doing?”

Minho’s stomach dropped as he met Changbin’s gaze. He could see the fury rising in his mate’s eyes as he dropped his backpack onto the floor, walking toward Minho with quick, deliberate steps.

“I—” Minho started, but Changbin was already shaking his head, cutting him off.

“Why are you sitting on the couch with Jisung while you’re in your rut?” Changbin’s voice was low but sharp, like a warning.

Minho’s mind scrambled for an explanation, for something that would make sense of the situation. “Jisung—he sat next to me,” Minho said quickly, trying to defend himself. “I wasn’t planning on this. I was about to go to the bedroom, since the next wave is about to start.”

But Changbin wasn’t satisfied with that answer. He scoffed, walking over to the couch. Without a word, he gently removed Jisung’s head from Minho’s shoulder and laid him back down onto the cushions. Jisung made a soft, unhappy noise, but he didn’t wake up. He curled into one of the throw blankets, his body still so relaxed despite everything.

Minho opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Changbin grabbed his arm with surprising strength, pulling him off the couch with a firm tug. Minho had no choice but to allow it, his body moving against his will as Changbin led him toward the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Minho growled, trying to regain his footing. “I’m fine, Changbin. I know my limits.”

Changbin didn’t answer him, his grip still tight on Minho’s arm as they reached the top of the stairs. Minho’s heart was still racing, the heat of his rut making his vision swim slightly.

He didn’t want to fight with Changbin. Not now. But his patience was wearing thin.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Minho could feel his frustration bubbling under the surface. He was trying to keep his composure, to suppress the heated urge inside him, but it was becoming harder to control with each passing second.

Changbin didn’t slow down. His steps were measured, purposeful as he pulled Minho into the bedroom. The door creaked shut behind them, and the room seemed too quiet after the chaos of the downstairs.

Hyunjin and Jeongin were still asleep, curled up together under the covers. The sight made Minho’s chest tighten in an unexpected surge of possessiveness. His gaze flicked to Hyunjin, noting the marks on the alpha’s skin—soft, purple bruises and distinct bite marks.

Hyunjin stirred, his head lifting as he gave a soft groan of annoyance. “Guys,” he muttered, voice still thick with sleep. “You’re making the bed cold, hurry up.”

Minho couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at his lips. “I’m coming, don’t bite me,” Minho mumbled back, reaching over to ruffle Hyunjin’s hair affectionately. Hyunjin groaned but couldn’t hide the small smile that spread across his face as he turned over to face Minho.

The moment Minho settled in beside Hyunjin, the younger alpha immediately shifted closer, nuzzling into him like a familiar, comforting weight. He ran his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair, the silky strands slipping between his fingers as he sighed, trying to soothe the need clawing at him.

“I could hear the conversation from downstairs,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice soft but steady, “Changbin is just stressed, Minho. I know he didn’t mean to snap at you. He’s just worried.”

Minho didn’t respond immediately, his thoughts wandering back to the argument downstairs. He knew Hyunjin was right.

“Don’t mind him,” Hyunjin continued, his voice warm against Minho’s ear.

Minho’s heart sank at the mention of Jisung’s name. He was still thinking about the omega. Minho clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding at the growing frustration inside him. His rut was too close now, too strong, and Jisung’s scent was still lingering on him, pulling at his control in ways he hadn’t expected.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him, Hyunjin,” Minho said, the words coming out more vulnerable than he intended. “I wasn’t going to do anything… stupid.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at him, pulling back slightly to look at Minho with a knowing smile. “No one thinks you were going to hurt him, Minho. But you know how fragile Jisung is right now, right? He’s still trying to trust us. We can’t push him too hard, especially with everything he’s been through.”

Minho’s heart twisted at the reminder. He knew about the omega’s fears, about how fragile Jisung’s trust was—especially with alphas. The last thing Minho wanted was to make things worse. He just… couldn’t seem to control this overwhelming need inside him.

The bed shifted again as Jeongin groaned and shifted beneath the blankets, his tired voice cutting through the silence. “What’s going on?” he mumbled, his eyes blinking sleepily as he rubbed his face.

Minho met Jeongin’s confused gaze, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing, just… stuff.”

Jeongin frowned, his expression still clouded by sleep. “You and Changbin smell upset, did something happen?”

Minho shot Changbin a glance. The other alpha met his eyes and let out a long sigh, as if resigning to the conversation that needed to happen.

“It’s fine, Jeongin,” Changbin said, his voice softer now. “Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

Hyunjin groaned and shifted out of Minho’s arms, moving closer to the younger alpha. “Minho’s just being an idiot, that’s all,” he muttered as he pulled Jeongin closer for a cuddle.

Minho watched as Hyunjin curled himself around Jeongin, their limbs tangling effortlessly beneath the covers. Jeongin made a small, halfhearted protest, whining softly as Hyunjin buried his face into his chest, but eventually gave in with a resigned sigh.

Minho exhaled sharply, leaning back against the headboard as he rubbed at his temples. His headache was worsening, pounding in rhythm with his accelerating pulse. He was trying to focus, to breathe, but his alpha instincts were screaming at him to do something—anything—to ease the ache in his chest and the tension in his muscles.

The bed shifted again as Changbin finally climbed in, his movements deliberate but quiet. He didn’t say anything at first, just settled himself on the far side of the mattress, his back resting against the headboard.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Hyunjin and Jeongin’s quiet breathing filled the room, soft and rhythmic. He glanced over, his gaze catching on the sharp lines of Changbin’s profile.

“I wasn’t going to do anything to him,” Minho muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was low, almost bitter. “You didn’t have to drag me up here like I’m some kind of threat, some kind of animal.”

Changbin turned his head, his dark eyes meeting Minho’s. There was no anger there anymore—only concern, laced with a quiet frustration. “I know you wouldn’t hurt him, Minho,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “But it’s not about what you would or wouldn’t do. It’s about what Jisung needs right now.”

Minho frowned, his jaw tightening as he turned his gaze to the ceiling. He knew Changbin was right. Of course, he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“He came to me,” Minho argued softly, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “I didn’t go to him. He sat down next to me. What was I supposed to do? Push him away?”

Changbin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the headboard. “No, you weren’t supposed to push him away,” he admitted. “But you know how fragile his trust is. He’s been through hell, Minho. And right now, he needs to feel safe. Not…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Not overwhelmed by your instincts.”

Minho clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “I wasn’t going to overwhelm him,” he said, his voice tight. “I’m not a pup, Changbin. I can control myself.”

Changbin’s gaze softened, but there was still a firmness in his tone when he spoke. “I know you can. But Jisung doesn’t know that yet. He’s still learning to trust us, to trust alphas. And if you slip up, even for a second, it could undo all the progress we’ve made.”

Minho felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. He hated the idea of scaring Jisung, of making him feel unsafe after everything he’d been through. But the guilt was quickly overshadowed by frustration—frustration at himself, at the situation, and at the unrelenting pull of his instincts.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him,” Minho repeated, his voice quieter this time, almost resigned. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“I know,” Changbin said, his voice softer now. “But it’s not just about you, Minho. It’s about all of us. He’s Felix’s friend, our friend. And if anything happens to him—if he feels unsafe because of us—Felix will never forgive us. Do you understand that?”

Minho nodded reluctantly, his throat tightening. He didn’t need the reminder. He already knew how much Felix cared about Jisung. The last thing Minho wanted was to give Felix a reason to resent him.

The tension in the room hung heavy between them, neither of them speaking for a long moment. Finally, it was Hyunjin who broke the silence, his voice muffled as he mumbled against Jeongin’s chest.

“You two done fighting yet?” he asked, his tone laced with sleepy irritation. “You’re ruining my nap.”

Minho couldn’t help but huff out a quiet laugh, the sound dry but genuine.

“Sorry, Hyunjin,” Changbin said, his voice lighter now, though still tinged with exasperation. “We’ll keep it down.”

“Good,” Hyunjin grumbled, shifting closer to Jeongin as he buried his face against the younger alpha’s neck. “You’re both annoying.”

Minho exhaled slowly, his body still tense but his mind beginning to calm. He leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes as he let the soft sounds of his mates’ breathing wash over him. The fire in his chest was still burning, but for now, he could manage it.

Changbin shifted closer, and Minho opened his eyes, startled when the other alpha’s hand brushed against his. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Then, without warning, Minho grabbed Changbin by the shirt, pulling him closer.

Their lips met in a rough, heated kiss, the tension between them spilling over in an instant. Minho’s instincts surged forward, desperate for contact, for connection, and Changbin didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into it, his hands coming up to grip Minho’s shoulders tightly.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, their foreheads resting together as they tried to steady themselves.

“It’s okay if I touch you though..right?” Minho murmured the question, his voice low and hoarse as he gripped the bottom of Changbin’s shirt. “You wouldn't get mad?” He added, lust dripping from his voice.

Changbin’s eyes drifted to his lips before he pulled Minho on top of him. “Play with me all you want.”

Chapter Text

Chan woke slowly to the faint sound of muffled curses. He blinked a few times, the hospital room coming into focus as he turned his head toward the voice. Felix was shifting on the bed, his small frame tense as he attempted to stretch out his legs, his expression one of mild frustration.

“Felix?” Chan’s voice was low and groggy as he sat up straighter in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

Felix stilled, looking over at him with tired, dull eyes. “Leg cramp,” he muttered, rubbing at his calf. His lips twitched downward into a deeper frown as he tried to adjust himself into a more comfortable position.

Chan stood and moved closer to the bed, his frown mirroring Felix’s. “Do you need me to help?”

“No,” Felix replied quietly, shaking his head. He leaned back into the pillows, closing his eyes briefly as if to ward off the ache in his leg.

Chan studied him, worry bubbling in his chest. The omega didn’t look well, no matter what the doctors and nurses claimed about how great his recovery was. Felix might be healing physically, but Chan knew him better than anyone else—better than the medical staff could ever hope to.

Felix’s complexion was paler than it should’ve been, his cheeks hollowed just slightly. There were dark circles under his eyes that couldn’t be hidden, no matter how many smiles Felix tried to put on. And those smiles… Chan sighed softly. The wide, radiant grins Felix used to wear had been replaced with subdued, fleeting ones—or worse, nothing at all. His best friend, his mate, didn’t shine the way he once did.

Chan’s chest ached as he watched Felix attempt to reposition himself again. He had to do something to distract him, to ease the tension in the room.

“Changbin’s been working on the new track all last night,” Chan said suddenly, his voice intentionally light. He dragged his chair closer and sat beside the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. “He called me at midnight, rambling about needing to tweak the bass line. It’s coming along really well, though. I think you’ll love it when it’s finished.”

Felix cracked one eye open, his lips twitching faintly at the mention of music. “Sounds like Changbin,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but softer than before.

Chan leaned back in his chair, watching Felix carefully as the omega stared at the incubator again. It wasn’t unusual for Felix to zone out like this, his mind wandering to places Chan couldn’t always follow. The sight tugged at his heart. He wanted to break the silence, to lift the heavy cloud that seemed to linger over Felix no matter how hard they all tried to chase it away.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Felix glanced at him, his tired eyes meeting Chan’s for a moment before flicking away again. “Do you remember that time we snuck out to the beach after that ridiculous storm? What was it… ten years ago?”

Felix’s brow furrowed slightly as he thought back. Slowly, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You mean the time you insisted we’d ‘just get a little wet,’ and we ended up drenched head to toe?”

Chan chuckled, the memory vivid in his mind. “It wasn’t my fault the tide came in so fast! Besides, you were the one who said we should climb that rock to get a better view.”

Felix’s smile grew just a little. “Yeah, and you nearly broke your ankle trying to get down. You’re lucky I didn’t leave you stranded up there.”

“Please, you’d never leave me stranded. You love me too much,” Chan teased, his grin widening when Felix rolled his eyes.

Felix leaned back against the hospital bed, his hand idly playing with the edge of the blanket. “That was a good day, though,” he admitted softly. “The water was freezing, but the sky cleared up right before sunset. I’ve never seen the ocean look so… golden.”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed, his tone wistful. “It was perfect. We should go back there once you’re feeling up for it. It’s been too long.”

Felix hesitated, his fingers stilling against the blanket. “Do you think… we’ll ever get back to that?”

Chan’s heart ached at the question, at the vulnerability in Felix’s voice. “We will,” he said firmly, leaning closer. “Maybe it won’t be exactly the same, but we’ll make new memories—better ones. With Aera and the others. She’ll love the beach, I just know it.”

Felix looked at him, his eyes glassy but hopeful. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Chan replied. “And I’ll make sure she has the best sandcastle-building partner ever.”

Felix let out a soft laugh, the sound like music to Chan’s ears. “You’ve never been good at building sandcastles, though.”

“Excuse me,” Chan said, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know my sandcastle-building skills have greatly improved since then. You’ll see. Just wait.”

Just as Chan was about to bring up another memory, the door to the room opened. A doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand and a professional smile on his face.

“I have some good news,” the doctor announced as he approached the bed.

Chan straightened, his hand resting lightly on Felix’s arm. Felix looked up at the doctor, his expression cautious but curious.

“You should be able to go home in three days,” the doctor said warmly. “And as for the pup, she is progressing well. We’re getting closer to the point where she will be ready to be held.”

Chan’s heart lifted at the news, a smile spreading across his face as he glanced at Felix. But his joy was quickly tempered by the omega’s reaction. Felix’s lips parted slightly, his eyes widening in a mix of fear and hesitation.

“How much longer?” Felix asked softly, his voice trembling. “How much longer do you think she will be in the incubator?”

The doctor glanced at his notes. “At least another thirty days, give or take. But I encourage you to visit as often as you can. Holding her may not be possible just yet, but skin-to-skin contact is a goal we’re working toward.”

Felix frowned, his gaze shifting toward the incubator a few feet away.

“You can see her every day,” Chan said gently, squeezing Felix’s arm. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Felix’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. The doctor continued to talk about Felix’s progress, offering more medical explanations that Chan only half-registered. His attention remained focused on Felix, watching every subtle shift in his expression, every flicker of emotion in his tired eyes.

When the doctor finally left, closing the door softly behind him, Chan reached for his phone. He wanted to update the others, to share the good news about Felix’s recovery and Aera’s progress. Chan’s fingers moved quickly as he typed out a message in the group chat, his thumbs flying across the screen.

Chan typed out a quick update in the group chat: Felix is doing well. Doc says three days until he can come home, and the pup’s making good progress too. Thirty more days in the incubator.

When Chan glanced back at Felix, he saw the omega holding his phone up, the screen angled toward his face. Felix frowned as he studied his reflection in the camera, his fingers brushing against his grown-out roots.

Chan tilted his head, a teasing smile forming. “Want me to help you bleach it again?”

Felix’s gaze snapped to him, startled, before softening into something fragile. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice hesitant. “That… would be nice. Thank you.”

Chan’s chest warmed at the soft response, but then Felix glanced at him nervously, his fingers tightening around his phone. There was something in his expression—uncertainty, maybe even guilt—that made Chan straighten in concern.

“What is it, Lix?” he asked gently.

Felix hesitated, his thumb brushing over the edge of his phone. Finally, he held it out to Chan, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you… take a picture of Aera for me?”

Chan’s heart ached at the request, but he smiled softly, taking the phone from Felix’s outstretched hand. “Of course.”

He stood and made his way over to the incubator, peering inside at the tiny life resting within. Aera was sprawled out on her back, her hands clenched into the smallest fists Chan had ever seen. Her delicate features were peaceful, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

Chan snapped a few photos, taking care to frame them just right, before walking back to Felix. He handed the phone back, watching as Felix’s expression softened when he looked at the pictures.

“She’s beautiful,” Felix said softly, his voice full of emotion. He stared at the screen for a long moment before whispering, “I’m going to make this my lock screen.”

Chan pouted dramatically, crossing his arms. “What happened to me always being your lock screen? That’s my spot!”

Felix rolled his eyes, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” Chan said, pulling out his phone and turning it toward Felix. “Look—this is my lock screen.”

Felix’s eyes widened when he saw the photo. It was a picture of him in his favorite chick-print pajamas, cuddling with his chick plushie, his face relaxed in sleep. His blush deepened as he glared at Chan.

“You’re such a weirdo,” he muttered, his voice flustered.

Chan laughed, the sound light and genuine. “What can I say? I have good taste.”

Felix huffed but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

After a moment, Chan leaned forward, his tone softening. “Do you want me to switch out with someone else tonight?”

Felix hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. Finally, he said quietly, “Hyunjin.”

Chan nodded, smiling. “Hyunjin it is. I’ll call him now.”

He stepped out into the hallway, scrolling through his contacts until he found Hyunjin’s name. The phone rang a few times before a groggy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hyunjin,” Chan said, his tone warm. “Do you want to stay the night at the hospital with Felix?”

There was a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling sheets. “Yes!” Hyunjin’s voice was suddenly much more awake, excitement bleeding through the line.

Chan chuckled, hearing Jeongin groan in the background.

“Tell Jeongin I’m sorry for stealing you,” Chan teased.

Hyunjin laughed softly. “It’s fine. Minho’s rut has drained all of us. It’s your turn to deal with everything now.”

Chan smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. See you tonight.”

“See you,” Hyunjin said, his tone still buzzing with excitement.

Chan hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket before returning to Felix’s room.

“Hyunjin’s excited to come,” he said as he sat back down.

Felix nodded softly, his gaze drifting to the incubator. “How’s Jisung doing?” he asked after a moment.

“He’s doing good,” Chan replied. “He’s staying in one of the guest room, the one you said had the best view. He has new clothes, a new phone… We’re taking care of him.”

Felix’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “That’s good. He deserves it.”

“And according to Changbin,” Chan added, “the nursery is finished. It’s ready for whenever Aera can come home.”

Felix’s smile grew a little wider as his fingers played with the edge of the blanket. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his gaze once again settling on the incubator.

Chan watched Felix’s gaze linger on the incubator, the soft hum of the machines filling the room. His mate’s quiet moments like this always pulled at something deep within him—a mixture of pride and heartbreak. Felix was strong, much stronger than he gave himself credit for, but it was impossible to ignore how exhausted he looked.

Chan shifted forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ll make sure everything is perfect for Aera when she comes home,” he said softly.

Felix nodded but didn’t look away from the incubator. There was a tenderness in his expression, one that only seemed to appear when he looked at Aera. It was as if the sight of her fragile little body grounded him in a way nothing else could.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but Chan could sense there was more Felix wasn’t saying. He leaned back in his chair, giving his mate space to collect his thoughts.

When Felix finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “Do you think… she’ll be okay?”

Chan’s heart clenched at the question, at the raw vulnerability in Felix’s tone. He sat up straighter, his expression firm but gentle. “Aera’s a fighter, just like her eomma,” he said. “She’s already come so far, and she’s going to keep getting stronger. I know it.”

Felix’s lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. “You always know what to say,” he murmured.

Chan chuckled. “It’s my job, isn’t it?”

Chapter Text

Jisung stirred awake, his body cocooned in a tangled mess of throw blankets. His eyes fluttered open, the dim light filtering through the curtains disorienting him. Confusion hit like a wave. Why am I on the couch? He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The living room was silent and empty, the faint ticking of a clock the only sound.

He sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes. The loneliness in the room felt oppressive, wrapping around him like an unwelcome weight. His fingers clutched the edges of one of the blankets, the soft fabric grounding him for a moment. He glanced around, expecting to see someone, but the house remained eerily quiet.

A sense of unease settled in his chest as he swung his legs off the couch and stood. His movements were sluggish, his muscles stiff. His bare feet made soft sounds against the floor as he shuffled into the hallway. The silence stretched, heavy and unbroken, save for the creaks of the old wood beneath him.

When he reached his bedroom door, he hesitated. His hand hovered over the doorknob, a flicker of anxiety holding him back. Finally, he turned it, the door creaking softly as it opened. His breath hitched.

Seungmin was asleep in his bed.

The sight jolted his memory, and everything from the previous night came rushing back: Seungmin had gotten sick—because of him. Jisung had tried to help, but then Minho had shown up. He’d panicked, not wanting Minho near Seungmin in his vulnerable state, and had forced the alpha to leave. But after that, he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. So he’d sat on the couch, and—his face turned a deep shade of red—apparently fallen asleep on the alpha.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. His mind raced as embarrassment mingled with panic. What if Minho got angry because of that? What if the others think I… His stomach churned as a wave of irrational guilt hit him. The idea was absurd, but the thought clung to him. His hands began to tremble.

I can’t believe I did that. Why did I seek comfort from an alpha? His breathing quickened, his chest tightening as shame and fear tangled together. He pressed his back against the doorframe, struggling to ground himself.

A groan from the bed snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. Seungmin shifted, his voice raspy as he muttered, “I can’t sleep with your scent souring the room.”

Jisung froze. His cheeks flushed deeper. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, quickly backing into the hallway, trying to steady his breathing.

Seungmin sighed, turning to face him. His dark eyes softened slightly despite his sharp tone. “Stop standing there looking guilty. Come here.” He raised an arm lazily, gesturing for Jisung to join him.

Jisung hesitated. “I… I don’t want to make you sick again.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, his usual sarcasm bleeding through. “Your scent alone didn’t make me sick, idiot. You’re overthinking.” He reached out, grabbing Jisung’s wrist gently and tugging him forward.

Jisung yelped softly as he stumbled and landed on top of Seungmin. Heat rushed to his face as he scrambled to sit up, quickly moving to lie beside him instead. His heart pounded as he turned to observe the other omega, anxious for any signs of lingering illness.

Seungmin looked better—his cheeks had regained some color, and he didn’t seem to be sweating anymore. Jisung cautiously placed a hand against Seungmin’s forehead. “You’re not hot anymore,” he murmured, relief evident in his tone.

“That’s because of you,” Seungmin replied simply, his voice quiet but steady.

Jisung blinked, startled. “Me? I didn’t do anything…”

Seungmin ignored him, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a good omega, Jisung.”

The words caught him off guard, and his chest tightened with unfamiliar warmth. He pouted slightly, not sure how to respond, but his omega preened at the praise, a soft purr escaping his throat before he could stop it. His blush deepened as he clamped a hand over his mouth, mortified.

Seungmin chuckled before stretching and sitting up. “I’m going to check if Minho’s out of his rut yet.”

Jisung’s eyes widened as fear began to creep up his spine. Rut? The realization sent his thoughts spiraling again. He’d been near an alpha in rut? Alone? What if—what if something had happened? What if Minho had hurt him, or worse? His breathing quickened again as panic clawed at his chest.

Seungmin noticed immediately. He reached out, shaking Jisung’s shoulder gently. “Hey. Look at me.” His tone was firm but not unkind. “Nothing bad will ever happen to you under this roof. Got it?”

Jisung nodded slowly, but doubt lingered in his gaze. Everyone says things like that… but they always have their own agendas. He kept that thought to himself, swallowing hard as he tried to calm down.

Seungmin gave him one last look before standing. “I’ll be back,” he said softly, leaving the room.

Jisung listened intently to the creaking steps as Seungmin walked away, his ears straining for any sounds of conversation. But the house remained mostly quiet, save for the faint creak of a door opening upstairs.

The quietness only fed his anxious thoughts. He bit at his nails, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break. His fingers twitched as he thought of taking a shower, hoping it might help him feel a little more in control.

Jisung sat on the edge of his bed, his heart still racing faintly from the events of the morning. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment before standing and crossing to his small dresser. A shower sounded good—something to clear his head and calm the ever-present weight of unease in his chest.

He tugged open a drawer, rummaging through the neatly folded clothes. His fingers brushed over a soft, oversized crew neck with a cartoon squirrel printed on the front. A faint memory tugged at him, and he smiled despite himself. He could still hear Seungmin’s teasing voice in his head, calling him a squirrel and tossing the sweater into the cart during their shopping trip.

He pulled it out, pairing it with a loose pair of jeans and some underwear. Hugging the clothes to his chest, he made a beeline for the bathroom. The soft click of the lock sliding into place behind him brought a sense of relief. He let out a shaky exhale, leaning back against the door for a moment.

The bathroom mirror caught his attention, and he found himself hesitating before stepping closer. His reflection stared back, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. His cheeks were fuller now, the sharp hollows that once haunted his face had softened. His dark under-eye circles had faded, though they still lingered faintly. He leaned in, studying the subtle signs of life returning to his features.

“I don’t look… dead,” he murmured softly, his fingers trailing over the scars that littered his arms and collarbone. The faint, raised lines were a map of his past, a history he’d never fully escape. He swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away.

Turning to the shower, he cranked the water on, setting it to as hot as it would go. Steam quickly filled the small room, curling against the mirror and fogging the glass. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them into the hamper before stepping into the scalding spray.

The heat enveloped him immediately, soothing and almost too much at once. He closed his eyes, letting the water cascade down his back. For a moment, he simply stood there, breathing deeply as the warmth soaked into his skin. The tension in his shoulders began to ease, and his mind quieted, the constant buzz of anxiety fading to a dull hum.

As he lathered soap onto his arms, his thoughts drifted. He replayed Seungmin’s words from earlier in his mind. “You’re a good omega, Jisung.” A small, shy smile tugged at his lips despite himself. No one had ever said that to him before—not like that, not in a way that felt genuine.

His omega preened at the memory, a soft purr rumbling in his chest once more. It startled him, and he quickly cut the sound off, shaking his head. Stop being ridiculous, he told himself.

After a while, he finished rinsing off and shut off the water. The air was cooler now, the steam starting to dissipate. He stepped out, drying himself off quickly before pulling on the squirrel sweater and jeans. The oversized sweater draped over his small frame, the fabric soft and comforting.

He ran his fingers through his damp hair, attempting to smooth it into some semblance of order. The reflection in the mirror was different now—cleaner, more alive. He allowed himself a small moment of pride before gathering his dirty clothes and unlocking the door.

As he stepped into the hallway, faint voices drifted from the living room. The sound was muted at first, but as he walked closer to the living room, it grew louder. His steps slowed as he peeked around the corner.

Hyunjin was standing near the couch, gesturing animatedly, while Seungmin sat cross-legged, arms crossed with a dry, unimpressed expression.

Hyunjin was wearing a fitted black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, revealing slender but toned forearms. The shirt was tucked into slim, high-waisted pants that flared slightly at the ankle, accentuating his long legs. A thin, silver chain hung around his neck, glinting faintly as he moved, and a black belt with a simple, polished buckle.

“What do you think?” he asked, running a hand through his hair and turning to Seungmin. “Does this look sexy or not?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “You look hideous,” he deadpanned.

Jisung’s breath hitched as he watched, expecting Hyunjin to snap or retaliate in some way. But instead, the taller alpha laughed, brushing off the insult like it was nothing.

The motion caught their attention, and both heads turned to look at him. Jisung froze, heat flooding his cheeks.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. He started to retreat, but Hyunjin’s voice stopped him.

“Hey! Wait.”

Jisung hesitated, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

“What do you think? Do I look okay?” Hyunjin asked, his tone oddly sincere as he gestured to his outfit.

Jisung blinked, his eyes darting between the alpha and Seungmin. He wasn’t sure if it was a trap or a genuine question. Slowly, he nodded. “Y-You look… nice.”

Hyunjin’s face lit up at the response, and Jisung’s confusion deepened.

“Perfect! I want to look good for Felix and Aera tonight,” Hyunjin said brightly, adjusting his shirt.

Seungmin snorted. “You got ready this early? I don't think the hospital is a fashion show.”

Hyunjin shushed him, his excitement undeterred. “I’m seeing our pup and my soulmate tonight. I have to look my best.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Favoritism.” Then, his gaze shifted back to Jisung. “Oh, by the way, Chan called earlier. Felix will be coming home in three days.”

Jisung’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened, and an uncontrollable wave of joy surged through him. “R-Really?” he stammered, his omega practically vibrating with excitement.

Jisung bit his lip, his mind racing. He missed Felix so much—his presence, his warmth, his reassurance. His chest felt lighter at the thought.

Hyunjin clapped his hands together, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Hey, want to visit him? We can leave now and Chan can bring you back home after visiting hours.”

Jisung hesitated, his gaze darting between Hyunjin and Seungmin. The question felt loaded, even though Hyunjin’s smile seemed genuine. What if this was a trap? What if the wrong answer would lead to more trouble? He swallowed hard, his throat dry, before glancing at Seungmin for reassurance. The other omega appeared calm, as though the question was perfectly normal.

Seungmin’s relaxed demeanor eased some of Jisung’s fears. If this was dangerous, surely Seungmin would react… right? Taking a deep breath, Jisung nodded slowly in response to Hyunjin’s question.

Hyunjin beamed. “Alright!” he said, the brightness of his expression catching Jisung off guard. The alpha turned away and walked out of the room, announcing he needed to grab his things.

Jisung stood frozen for a few moments, anxiety bubbling up in his chest again. What did he just agree to? His fingers curled tightly into the hem of his oversized sweatshirt, his pulse quickening as he tried to steady himself. The silence in the room felt suffocating until he forced himself to move.

He shuffled toward his room and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. Sliding on a pair of socks, he took an extra moment to breathe before heading back into the living room. To his surprise, Hyunjin was already waiting for him near the front door, keys jingling lightly in his hand.

“Ready?” Hyunjin asked, his voice light and easy.

Jisung nodded, muttering a quiet, “Yeah,” before turning to Seungmin. “Goodbye.”

Hyunjin, however, had a more dramatic send-off in mind. The alpha strode toward Seungmin, leaning in to rub his face against the omega’s neck and shoulders, drenching him in his scent. Seungmin scowled but didn’t pull away. Then, Hyunjin pressed a quick kiss to Seungmin’s lips, smirking as he pulled back.

“Don’t start,” Seungmin warned, his tone sharp despite the faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “If you don’t get out of here, I’ll kill you.”

Hyunjin only giggled at the threat, dodging Seungmin’s swatting hand as he backed toward the door. “Love you too!” he called over his shoulder before heading outside.

Jisung blinked at the exchange, completely bewildered. Alphas and omegas teasing and threatening each other so casually—it made no sense to him. In his experience, omegas never stood up to alphas. They couldn’t. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. Yet here, Seungmin did it with ease, and Hyunjin didn’t seem even remotely angry about it. It left Jisung feeling more confused than ever.

Shaking off his thoughts, Jisung slid on his shoes and followed Hyunjin outside. The alpha was already waiting by the car, holding the passenger door open for him.

Jisung hesitated at the sight of the car. His heart raced as he stared at the open door, the space beyond it suddenly feeling impossibly small. Being in a confined space with an alpha—it wasn’t something he was used to, and it wasn’t something he wanted to get used to either.

Hyunjin didn’t rush him. The alpha stood there patiently, his expression calm and unbothered as he waited for Jisung to make his decision. Taking a deep breath, Jisung finally forced himself to climb in, his movements stiff and uncertain.

The door clicked shut behind him, making Jisung flinch slightly. Hyunjin didn’t seem to notice as he rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

When the engine started, soft, romantic music filled the air. Jisung blinked in surprise, glancing at Hyunjin, whose cheeks turned faintly pink. “Sorry about that,” the alpha muttered, quickly switching the station to something more upbeat.

Jisung looked out the window, his hands fiddling nervously in his lap.

“Hey,” Hyunjin said after a moment, his tone casual. “Do you want to grab some breakfast? I could use some coffee.”

Jisung opened his mouth to say no, but before he could, his stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl.

Hyunjin chuckled, the sound soft and teasing. “Guess that’s a yes,” he said with a grin.

Jisung blushed furiously, ducking his head and mumbling, “I’m fine…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hyunjin said lightly, steering the car down the road. “I’ll stop somewhere. Coffee and food sound good to me too.”

The car ride was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the faint sound of rock music playing over the speakers. Jisung sat rigid in the passenger seat, his fingers nervously picking at the hem of his sweatshirt. He avoided looking at Hyunjin, instead focusing on the scenery flashing by outside the window.

Despite the silence, Jisung could feel Hyunjin’s occasional glances in his direction, which only made him more anxious. Being alone in a car with an alpha was enough to send his nerves spiraling, but Hyunjin’s relaxed demeanor made it harder to gauge if he should feel threatened or safe.

After a while, Hyunjin cleared his throat, breaking the stillness. “Do you… have any hobbies?” he asked casually, as though he wasn’t aware of how tense Jisung was.

Jisung froze at the question. His immediate instinct was to stay silent, but the longer the pause stretched, the more awkward it felt. Finally, he mumbled, “I… I used to play guitar sometimes. And… sing.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin hummed thoughtfully, nodding as if committing the information to memory. “That’s cool,” he said. “I love music too. I’m not really a musician, but I paint and do photography. I like using music to set the mood when I work.”

Jisung glanced at him briefly, his interest piqued despite his anxiety. Painting and photography weren’t what he expected from someone like Hyunjin, from an alpha.

Hyunjin continued, his tone light and conversational. “Chan and Changbin write songs together, you know. They even produce their own tracks. It’s incredible, really. You should hear some of their stuff sometime.”

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly. “They… write music?” he asked softly, unable to hide his curiosity.

Hyunjin smiled at the small spark of interest in Jisung’s voice. “Yeah, they’re super talented. I’m always amazed at what they come up with. I bet you’d like it.”

The car slowed as Hyunjin pulled into the parking lot of a small café. “Be right back,” Hyunjin said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Stay here, okay?”

Jisung nodded again, watching as the alpha climbed out of the car and headed inside. Once alone, Jisung let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The quiet of the car felt strangely comforting, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts.

About ten minutes later, Hyunjin returned, balancing a cardboard coffee carrier in one hand and a small bag in the other. Jisung quickly leaned forward to grab the coffee carrier before it tipped, steadying it in his hands.

“Thanks,” Hyunjin said, climbing back into the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee, so I got it the way Felix likes his. Hopefully, it’s okay.”

Jisung stared down at the cup as Hyunjin set the bag on the console between them. “It’s fine,” he murmured, though he hadn’t taken a sip yet.

“Oh, and I got half a dozen donuts,” Hyunjin added, gesturing toward the bag. “And there’s a slice of cheesecake in there too. The lady at the counter was trying to get rid of it, so I figured, why not?”

Jisung’s eyes lit up at the mention of cheesecake, and Hyunjin must’ve noticed because he chuckled. “If you want it, it’s yours,” the alpha said.

Jisung blinked, startled by the offer. “N-No, it’s yours,” he stammered, his cheeks heating up.

Hyunjin waved him off with a smile. “I got it for you anyway. Consider it a peace offering.”

Jisung blushed even harder, clutching the coffee carrier tightly as Hyunjin started the car again. The aroma of coffee and pastries filled the space, mingling with the soft music on the radio. For the first time, Jisung felt a flicker of something other than fear in Hyunjin’s presence.

Chapter Text

The hallway leading to Felix’s hospital room felt unnervingly long as Jisung tried to maintain some distance from Hyunjin. Holding the drink carrier in one hand and the bag of pastries in the other, he carefully measured his steps, ensuring there was at least an arm’s length between himself and the alpha. Yet, despite his efforts, Hyunjin kept unconsciously drifting closer with every step, his anxious energy palpable.

Hyunjin was juggling a balloon bouquet and a large gift basket filled with candy and small gifts. Jisung’s grip on the pastries tightened as his pulse quickened. Being near Hyunjin was like standing next to a crackling fire; not quite painful, but uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t shake.

When they finally reached Felix’s door, Hyunjin glanced at Jisung briefly before knocking. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and Jisung resisted the urge to shrink back.

“Come in!” came a muffled voice from the other side—Chan’s, firm yet tinged with exhaustion.

Hyunjin stepped in first, pushing the door open with his shoulder. Jisung hesitated for a moment before following, his feet heavy as if weighed down.

Inside, the room was warm and dimly lit, the overhead lights turned low. Chan was seated in the chair closest to the bed, looking utterly worn out. His hair was slightly disheveled, sticking up in odd directions, and his shirt was wrinkled.

Felix himself was nestled in the hospital bed, propped up by a nest of pillows. His eyes were half-lidded, fighting off sleep, and his face looked both weary and serene. Despite his discomfort, there was a coziness to the way he was bundled up, the blankets draped carefully over him.

Hyunjin immediately moved to the small table near the bed, setting down the balloons and gift basket. His face lit up as he turned toward Felix. “Hey, angel,” he said softly, his tone warm and affectionate. “You look so good today.”

Felix gave him a half-hearted smile, clearly too tired to respond properly. Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind; he was already moving to the other side of the room where Aera’s incubator was, murmuring something soft and playful to the baby.

Jisung lingered awkwardly near the door, unsure of where to go or what to do. His gaze flitted around the room, searching for something to focus on and his eyes landed on Felix.

The omega’s gaze met his, and Felix’s lips curved into a faint smile. It wasn’t the radiant, dazzling smile Jisung had seen in the photos on the walls at the house, but it was warm enough to soothe the nerves coiled tightly in his chest.

Jisung returned the smile hesitantly, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over him. Felix had that effect on him—like a steadying presence that made the world a little less overwhelming.

Chan stood, pulling another chair closer to the bed on the opposite side. “Here,” he said, his voice kind but firm. “Sit down, Jisung.”

“Thank you,” Jisung murmured, his voice barely audible as he stepped forward. He placed the drinks and pastries on the table, careful not to make too much noise, before lowering himself into the chair.

Felix tilted his head slightly, his sleepy gaze still fixed on Jisung. “How do you like the house so far?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.

Jisung hesitated, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. “It’s… nice,” he said quietly. “The bed is really comfortable.”

He didn’t mention how he still felt like a stranger in their home, tiptoeing around the alphas and constantly second-guessing every move he made. Those feelings weren’t something he wanted to burden Felix with.

Felix hummed softly, his eyelids drooping as if the conversation alone was tiring him out. “That’s good,” he mumbled sleepily, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted in the bed, trying to sit up, but the movement was slow and labored. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he pushed against the pillows.

Chan and Hyunjin moved instantly.

“Careful,” Chan said as he hurried to Felix’s side, his brow furrowed in concern. He gently adjusted the blankets around the omega, smoothing them out as he fussed over Felix’s comfort.

Hyunjin wasn’t far behind, grabbing one of the extra pillows and fluffing it up with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Here,” he said, sliding the pillow behind Felix’s back. “Is that better? Or do you want another one?”