Chapter Text
Moodboard made by my lovely Ka
On the night of the full moon, a lone wolf dares to cross into forbidden land.
Silently, it moves through the forest, its paws pressing into soil that should never hold its trace. It walks boldly, unfazed by the fact that this is another pack's territory. There is no hesitation in its step, only the quiet confidence of someone who doesn't fear anyone.
After a while, it listens once, watches twice, and rubs its side against a tree before it slips away, unseen like a breath exhaled into the wind.
The Park pack's morning patrol is the first to pick up the unfamiliar scent deep within their borders. As the pheromones fill their nostrils, they bristle with flattened ears and bared teeth. This was on purpose and not an innocent mistake. Whoever did it had gone too far, too deep into the Park pack's land and they even left their scent.
"Find that bastard!" their leader growls and no one dares to argue.
For hours, the patrol scours the forest, circling the spot where the scent is the strongest. They look, they sniff, but all they find is the wolf's scent mark on the bark of an old oak. And all while the patrol is searching, two figures are hiding in the shadows of a towering sonamu tree. Their eyes flicker from the group of wolves to the border while holdibg their breaths unusually quiet. Because one of them, an omega, shouldn't even be here.
"Did anyone see the wolf?" The question is barely a whisper, spoken behind a soft palm.
"No," comes the answer from the one who just left the group of patrolling wolves. "But your brother woke me before dawn. Said he caught the scent and needed me to confirm it. It's faint now, almost gone… but it was there. A foreign wolf. Right here. Right inside our borders."
"Why?"
"I don't know." The reply is clipped. The matter is delicate. They all know that. "But it's the path we take to hunt in the northern grounds. So maybe…"
The omega's fangs dig into his plush bottom lip. Worry is pooling in his orange eyes.
"Did you catch who it was?"
A short pause follows, then, "No. I've never smelled anything like it before. The scent was fresh and sharp. Like a river slicing through cold stone."
"That doesn't sound like anyone from the other packs. Could it be a rogue, maybe?"
"Maybe. I don't really know. I just know that whoever it was, I hope it's the first and last time they come near us. Because if not..." The voice drops to a whisper, and man's usual brightness fades from his face. "Gyerim could be standing at the edge of a war."
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In the heart of the wild, unforgiving landscape known as Gyerim, the river Buyeo snakes its way through dense woods. The clear water is shimmering like diamonds under the weak spring sun.
It looks peaceful, but looks can be deceiving. In reality, life in Gyerim is tough, and every single day is a battle.
The Park pack, whose members are bound by blood and loyal to a fault, has lived here for generations, but even though they know every tree and every hidden corner, it doesn't mean they are safe.
Gyerim is dangerous because of so many factors. To the northeast are sheer cliffs, which border the Dark Mountains. Their stones are black as the night and sharp enough to tear through a wolf's paw if it strays too far from the hunting grounds. In the south are golden fields with sparse prey but lots of vegetation, and to the west, endless marshes stretch across the landscape like a trap. Their water is thick and dangerous. The elders often warn the pups about them, spinning tales that spirits of lost wolves haunt those treacherous swamps.
"Those marshes," they would explain, "are not meant for our paws. The water may seem calm, but it is hungry."
But the land of the Parks, right in the middle of Gyerim isn't much better. Winters here bite hard, isolating the Park pack in a world of ice and snow. Weaker wolves often die during this period. It's cruel and devastating, but it's also natural. Thick fur and sharp instincts can only do so much when the nights drag on and when the moon hangs high in a sky full of stars that offer no warmth. Summer is not kinder to them. It brings scorching droughts that leave the river low. Once Buyeo's waters are reduced to a slow-moving trickle, it is barely enough to quench the thirst of the pack, but not enough for the remaining prey.
"The river doesn't care if you're thirsty," the elders often warn. "It will dry up as it pleases. Learn to hunt in spring or you won't survive the summer."
Even the forest, which normally shields the pack from enemies and harsh weather, has its dangers. Beneath the trees, the soil's mostly dead and acidic. It makes it hard for vital plants to grow and, for the Park pack, nearly impossible to find enough berries, roots, or vegetation to survive the lean months.
Worst of all, rival packs circle the Park pack like vultures. More often than not, the Park's head alpha warns his patrols that their enemies are waiting for any chance to push the boundaries.
"Our enemies are like scavengers. One slip, one misstep, and they'll be on you."
Fights break out often, and they're brutal, leaving the ground soaked in blood and the air heavy with the scent of death.
There was one time in the past, the Park pack got nearly destroyed when the Kims and the Jeons attacked from two sides at once. The elders never let anyone forget about it.
"Don't show fear, ever. Fear's what started the Great War. It's an invitation to your enemies, and invitations are always answered in our lands."
And it is true. Other packs are always only a breath away. Until this day, every full moon, the enemy's feral howls burst through the night like warnings. It's like a storm that never breaks.
Jimin, an omega with eyes the colour of a setting sun and hair like golden hay, has lived through it all. Despite being head alpha Park Daehyun's youngest son, he has felt the cold grip of fear more times than he can count.
In Gyerim, fear is a constant companion. For everyone.
Like every other member of the pack, from the old, battle-hardened veterans to the pups just finding their footing on wobbly paws, Jimin learned rather early that fights can break out without warning. When he was little, the Mins attacked from the southeast and took many lives. It was a dark chapter.
It's the reason the Park pack's alphas spend their days training relentlessly, sharpening the skills they need to defend their territory. The betas and omegas are always on the move, too. They scramble to stockpile resources, preparing for whatever might come. No one stands still. No one takes it easy.
"Be ready, always," their most trusted elder Kim constantly reminds them. "The moment you relax is the moment you lose."
Yet despite their vigilance, the Park pack has lost more fighters lately. Sometimes to rogues, sometimes in clashes with rival packs, and even, on rare occasions, to larger prey.
"The price of survival," Elder Kim said after the latest loss, burying one of their best hunters, Alpha Doyun, "is always paid in blood."
And each time tragedy strikes, Jimin stands by his mother's side, assisting her in delivering the heart-wrenching news of their losses to the families.
"I'm so sorry," his mother, Yuna, would say to the grieving families, her words tinged with the slightest accent that marks her origins from the southern lands. "I know nothing I say will take this pain away, but please know, they were loved by all of us. We'll honour them. You're not alone."
And people believe her, drawn to the way she stands, unmovable, with her intense amber eyes locked on theirs, releasing her sweet lemon blossom scent. Jimin still can't quite understand how his mother is so good at comforting them and at absorbing their pain without breaking under the weight of loss and grief.
"Be strong for them, pup," she would tell him after each visit. "They need to see that even in loss, we endure."
More often than not, Jimin wonders if she ever allows herself to mourn in the quiet hours of the night when no one is watching her in her nest, or if she has just buried it so deep it has become part of her. Sure, as the head omega, it's her duty to provide comfort, and she's spent her entire life preparing for it, but Jimin thinks it's unfair that one person should have to carry so much. Even more, because one day, it'll be his duty, too. As a future head omega, he will have to take on the role of support. Meaning once he gets mated, he'll be expected to be a nurturer, the one who holds the pack together when everything else seems to crumble.
"You'll be ready when the time comes," Yuna often reassures him, squeezing his shoulder gently and scenting his cheek. "You have a kind heart, and that's all you'll ever need."
Luckily for Jimin, no one's really expecting him to take on that role anytime soon, especially since no alpha has shown any serious interest in him yet. Everyone from the Park pack knows mating the slightly stubborn omega with the golden hair and orange-coloured eyes doesn't come with any higher rank, since Jimin's oldest brother is the one set to inherit the pack leadership, not him.
If he does mate, it'll likely mean finding another head alpha's son from outside the pack, maybe one of the few in the south who aren't at war with the Parks. But so far, no one from that side has approached his father.
And Jimin hopes it stays that way. The thought of being head omega makes his stomach turn. He hates the idea. Always did.
When he first presented, young Jimin even envied the other omegas. Their lives seemed easier, their roles less complicated. Jimin remembers one time, when he tried to flee from his duties. His mother spent hours looking for him, only to find him kicking and screaming that he didn't want to see crying people anymore. He just wanted to play like the other pups.
As he got older, though, that envy faded. Seeing the reality of everyone else's responsibilities put things into perspective. While he and his mother visit grieving families, it's the alphas and betas who dig graves and the omegas who prepare the dead for their journey to the Moon Goddess. Nothing Jimin really wishes to do.
Still, the hardest task in Jimin's eyes is cleaning the fallen wolves' garments. The blood-soaked furs need scrubbing, and since the Park pack isn't exactly rolling in wealth, every scrap of wool or animal pelt is precious. They cannot afford to waste what little they have, so they wash it.
"This is so tiring," Jimin says, because today, he finds himself on washing duty once again.
By Buyeo's riverbank, where the forest meets the water, he sits with a heavy heart. His usual scent, bright with the crisp notes of blood oranges, is now carrying the bitterness of rotting fruit. Not that he knows what oranges truly smell or taste like – he's never seen one in Gyerim – but his mother once described them as sweet with a sharp edge.
Today, though, that sweetness is drowned out by decay as Jimin is tired and in a very bad mood.
"Scrub. Rinse. Scrub. Rinse," he grumbles, mimicking the elder omega who had handed him the basket with bloody clothes earlier, repeating the same instructions as if he hadn't done this a thousand times. "What a joke."
In his hands are the blood-soaked garments of Alpha Seongho, who had his throat ripped out by a rogue wolf during yesterday's patrol. The blood is everywhere, dried in some places and smeared in others, and every stain has to be scrubbed clean. Not what Jimin expected from life when he was still a curious and happy pup. Not at all.
Knees scraped and bruised, he shifts uncomfortably, sharp stones and stray twigs digging into him through the dirt. His hands are raw from the coarse boar pelt and icy river water. Although it's early spring and the sun shines brightly, promising warmth and new beginnings, the water remains cruelly cold, its icy bite robbing him of any kind of feeling in his fingers.
To make things worse, he's also sweating like crazy. The raccoon pelt he's wearing, thick and meant to keep out the cold, is clinging to him uncomfortably. It's heavy and stiff, making it an unforgiving chore to move around while he's washing.
"I swear, one of these days, I'm just going to throw this whole pile into the river," Jimin grumbles, only half-joking.
Destiny sure must have heard him, because a few seconds later, the vest slips from his numb fingers, landing in the dirt.
"Of course. Of course this would happen now."
He bends down, cursing under his breath, and picks up the vest. It's smeared with mud, so back into the freezing water it goes. No escaping washing duty. At least not when you're an omega.
Meanwhile, Jimin's two alpha brothers, Jihwan and Jiseok, are wrapped up in their own world, safe from all this mess. They're busy with the elders, discussing strategies and talking about the latest problems with the Jeon Pack, who keep ambushing the northeastern border near the Dark Mountains.
Jihwan, their father's right-hand man, runs the patrols and has a say in every major decision about the pack. Jiseok, the middle brother, leads the hunters and has his own sway… to put it nicely. All in all, they have purpose. Not like Jimin. He is just the omegan heir.
Unlike the Park pack, the other head alphas in the region all have only alpha sons groomed from birth to lead. Elder Kim, the Park pack's advisor, often shares whatever scraps of information he gathers about their rivals at pack gatherings.
"The Kim heir, Namjoon," Elder Kim had once said, "used the swamps on the western coast to trap and kill three rogues in one night. Clever pup. You'd do well to avoid him."
Jimin remembers whispering under his breath that he hoped they'd never cross paths with someone like that, but Elder Kim had simply chuckled and continued.
"Then there's Min Yoongi of the southeast," he'd said. "Quiet and unassuming fellow. But don't let that fool you. He's just as deadly. Comparable to a shadow. You don't see him until it's too late."
And finally, there's Jeon Jeongguk, the youngest heir and son of the Jeon pack's head alpha.
"No one's seen him yet," Elder Kim had said. "And that's precisely what makes him the most dangerous of them all."
Jimin had shivered at the thought. The unknown is always the scariest. This Jeon Jeongguk could be a monster.
Then again, aren't all alphas monsters?
There are moments when Jimin catches himself wondering what it would feel like to have that kind of power, to have people actually listen when he speaks, or even fear him, rather than being trapped here, elbow-deep in icy, bloody water.
"Must be nice," Jimin mutters to himself while he thinks about it. He absolutely resents this endless cycle of grief and duty, feeling trapped in a role that always overlooks his own desires and needs.
"What must be nice?" a voice asks.
Jimin hadn't realised that he had been talking loudly all the time, but now that he has, he turns to look at the owner of the voice. It's the one person that makes everything bearable: his best friend and declared soulmate, Taehyung.
"Nothing," Jimin answers and Taehyung shrugs his shoulders, not pressing any further.
Like Jimin, Taehyung is an omega, burdened with the same thankless tasks despite being the only grandson of Kim Jaewoo, one of the Park pack's most honourable elders. Around here, lineage means little when you're born an omega.
"Why do we always have to do this?" Taehyung grumbles, his dainty fingers probably numb as he struggles with another bloodstained cloth. "It feels like a punishment."
As omegas, Jimin and Taehyung are bound by ancient rules dictating their roles in the pack. Their worth is measured by service, not strength or reason.
"Because it's our duty," Jimin replies before he dips the heavy fabric back into the river.
"Duty? I call it torture," Taehyung snaps. His scent spikes, rich notes of wild ginger flooding the space. He flicks the edge of the cloth dramatically, splashing Jimin with a few stray droplets.
"Careful!" Jimin hisses, flicking some water back at him. "I might tell the elders you're taking our sacred washing duty too lightly."
"Go ahead. Maybe they'll kick me out," Taehyung says, though his grin fades as a group of alphas passes by, laughing as they head toward the pack centre.
Jimin watches them disappear. "That's what I was talking about. Their life must be nice," he says again, but quieter this time.
"It's not fair," Taehyung comments, raking a wet hand through his chestnut-coloured hair that lately reaches his chin. "We could do more than this. We could fight, too. Not just wash, cook, and… breed."
Jimin snorts. "Says the omega who almost always disappears when we are on washing duty and who burns every stew."
Taehyung rolls his eyes as he reaches for another cloth to throw it at Jimin. "Hey, I can make a mean stew!"
"Sure, the stench bites my nose in the meanest way."
"Yah! I can cook! It's just that nobody likes it."
"Maybe because you burn everything."
"Maybe I do it on purpose. Make everything taste bad enough, and they'll stop making me do it. And by the way, you should be quiet. You can't even light a fire."
Jimin sighs, his hands still scrubbing away. "Maybe I can't, but at least I try."
"You shouldn't have to. We all should simply do what we're good at, not what the elders are forcing us to do. Maybe we should tell them 'No!'"
"Oh, Taetae, we've had this discussion a thousand times before, and you know what the elders always answer: Omegas have the roles assigned by the Moon Goddess…"
Taehyung picks up right where Jimin leaves off, speaking the last part simultaneously with him, "Just like alphas and betas have theirs."
They both say it with a touch of boredom, as if they've heard it a thousand times before.
Taehyung nibbles on his lower lip. "The Moon Goddess can't be this cruel to assign us these roles. She can't be as fallible as we are, right? I think the elders – all alphas by the way – just want to keep us omegas in check by pushing these ideas on us. Which is absolutely ridiculous. And backwards. Other packs surely don't work like this." He glances around before he continues in a whisper, "That's why sometimes, I think about just leaving. Finding a place for us where we're not stuck in these roles. Maybe a friendlier pack in the south or living as rogues in the north. Just starting fresh."
His words linger between them, and Jimin slows his scrubbing. The thought alone already stirs something deep within him, something bright and beautiful.
He shuts his eyes, letting a daydream wash over him. In this dream, he's free and no longer scrubs blood from matted fur. Instead, he's surrounded by endless open spaces and freedom, in a world where the weight of his father's expectations no longer crushes him. He pictures himself and Taehyung running wild through fields of tall, golden grass that sways gently in the breeze. It's a place where the air is rich with sweet scents, where their laughter is unforced, and where every breath feels like a promise of something better. It's a place where they solely belong to themselves and not to the pack.
But the river's icy water snaps him back to reality. He's still the head alpha's only omegan son. Such dreams, while enticing, are simply out of reach.
Jimin shakes his head and opens his eyes again, his body stinging from the cold. "And leave everything behind? Our families? The pack? It sounds nice, but you know how it is."
"I know. But there has to be more out there for us. More than just this."
"Probably." Jimin glances up at the thick woods, which quickly remind him how trapped he actually is. "But for now, there's work to be done, and dreams will have to wait."
With a sad sigh, he goes back to scrubbing and even Taehyung relents by plunging the cloth back into the river.
One day, they might find a way to change their fates.
But not today.
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The scent of woodsmoke lingers in the air as the day gives way to evening.
Twilight settles over Gyerim in soft shadows, and with his tasks finally done, Jimin sits on a stone outside his parents' hut beside his mother. The fire crackles at their feet, sending thin trails of smoke curling into the sky.
"Can you pass me the bowl with berries," Yuna asks while Jimin is still watching a moth sitting at the hut's roof.
Free little moth, he thinks, before he focuses on the task ahead and hands his mother the bowl.
"Of course, Eomma. Here you are."
Yuna hums a quiet thank you, before she adds, "Oh, and could you fetch the bowl of dried roots from inside the hut? I almost forgot I had set it aside to make a broth later."
"Okay."
With a quick nod, Jimin slips into the hut. He has to duck a bit as he enters the cramped space. It feels more like a rough shelter than an actual home, consisting just of thick logs and stones stacked into four walls. The roof is a tangle of branches and twigs, and instead of a door, a heavy elk fur hangs over the entrance, flapping every time the wind kicks up. It barely keeps out the cold, let alone the sounds of the forest beyond.
"Where are the roots," Jimin asks himself.
Despite its flaws, the hut is a rare luxury and the only one in the entire Park pack. It belongs to Jimin's parents, the head alpha and omega, and is located right in the middle of the pack grounds where it's safe from direct attacks. Jimin, his brothers, and the rest of the pack live in tents made of animal pelts and hides stretched over wooden frames to keep out the rain and cold. The tents are scattered across the clearing in the heart of Gyerim's forest. Inside, they are lined with piles of furs and pelts for warmth, though it's nothing like the comfort of the hut.
During full-moon gatherings, Jimin has heard stories of other packs living in cabins with multiple rooms, but those tales seem like pure fantasy to him.
"Ah! Here!" He finally spots the bowl, which is nestled behind a stack of dried herbs. Grabbing it, he steps back outside, passing his brothers on the way. As usual, Jihwan and Jiseok are too busy bickering to notice him.
"Want some radishes, Jiseok?" Jihwan asks, holding out a plate to his brother.
Jiseok scoffs, his thick lips curling. "What am I, hyung? A rabbit? I need fresh meat."
"We don't have fresh meat tonight. Better eat like a rabbit than go hungry."
Their voices drift toward the fire, where the head alpha sits apart from the rest. Jimin watches the exchange with a quiet sigh. The weariness of the long winter still hangs heavy over them. Their meal tonight is meager. There are only a couple-ish radishes, some dried meat, and a few berries. It's barely enough to satisfy their bellies, but spring hasn't yet brought new game, and the food stocks are running low.
"But Youngchul said he found fresh elk tracks near where Buyeo crosses our northern borders this morning," Jiseok says.
"Would be the first one we've seen in weeks," Jihwan replies. "But you should send a few hunters to the river at dawn to check. Is that okay, Appa?"
Head alpha Daehyun nods but keeps quiet otherwise. His face is set and serious. The burden of leadership has etched its ugly traces into his features. At just fifty winters old, he looks as if he's lived through twice that many. His hair, once black, is now heavily streaked with grey. His eyes are black and beady, holding a somber intensity like nobody else's. His lingering and, in Jimin's taste, unpleasant scent of a certain type of stinky mushrooms might blend with the earthy scent of the forest, but it's a stench that makes most wolves keep their distance.
Jimin has always disliked it. Even as a pup, he'd wrinkle his nose at it. His father, though, never cared. He used to say that it's good, that an alpha should smell dangerous, like something that would make enemies turn tail and run. Sweet scents were only for omegas and betas who are looking to entice a mate.
"But speaking of pack matters, did you hear about the morning patrol's findings today?" Daehyun asks his oldest son. He even adjusts his black bearskin, which he wears proudly over his shoulders as head alpha. Whenever talk turns to pack politics, Daehyun adjusts it, almost like a reminder to everyone that he's the strongest here, that he expects answers, or there'll be consequences. Just like there were with the bear he took it from.
"Yes, I did," Jihwan replies, nodding firmly. As head of the patrols, he's always on top of everything pack-related, which is why their father usually goes to him first.
"Excellent. As usual. What did you find?" Daeyhun asks.
It's no secret that Jihwan is their father's favourite. Daehyun is always a little softer with his eldest, a little more approving. Jimin figures it's because Jihwan looks so much like him. He has the same sharp, beady eyes and the same prominent nose. Even their scents overlap, like some strange combination of damp earth and slimy morels. The only real difference is that, at thirty-two winters, Jihwan still has a full head of dark hair, and unlike Daehyun, he isn't allowed to wear bear fur yet. For now, his ceremonial attire, which is a mountain lion pelt he earned after taking down the beast when he became the head alpha's right hand, is his mark of honour. It's still prestigious, something no other alpha, beta, or omega is allowed to wear.
"One of the patrols picked up the scent of a foreign wolf right near the northern border."
"An accident?"
"No, it was definitely a scent mark. The wolf must have rubbed its body against the bark of an oak tree. Alpha Hoseok has confirmed it."
Jimin's thoughts drift to the red-haired alpha with heart-shaped lips, Jung Hoseok, who's just one winter older than him and Taehyung. The three of them have been friends since they were in the nursery, and when rank meant only little. Together they played, shared secrets, and spun wild tales of adventure without a care for the future. Even now, they're still close friends, which is why Hoseok filled Jimin in earlier while the patrol was searching for the foreign wolf.
Initially, Jihwan had called Hoseok because Hoseok is one of Jiseok's hunters known for picking up every little nuance and hidden meaning in a scent, so it's no surprise they'd call him in when a wolf leaves a mark on pack territory. Even more when it was a scent they had never smelled before, a scent that made their noses twitch and their hackles rise.
"Do we have more information if it was from a rogue or from another pack?" Daehyun asks.
Jihwan frowns, mulling it over. "No, we haven't come across a scent like this before. It smelled like rain."
It wasn't rain, Jimin recalls. Earlier Hoseok had said it reminded him of the fresh, cool scent of a clear river carving its path through cold stones, but it's not like his family would listen to him when he would correct them anyway.
"Rain doesn't really fit with the Mins," Daehyun says. "So it couldn't have been one of them."
"Yeah, I agree. The Mins have that distinct flower scent from the southeastern blooms, and they live way too far from here," Jihwan adds. His tone is always so calm and confident, like from someone who knows they are the favourite.
"I think it was someone from the Jeon pack," Jiseok interrupts, eager to get his thoughts out.
"No, the Jeons smell like mountain herbs. Like gomchwi or ginseng," Jihwan declines and turns his gaze to his father again. "Could be a rogue from the north."
"But–" Jiseok starts, but gets cut off by their father.
"What about the Kims? They smell like water," Daehyun says.
"Appa–"
"Salty water paired with seaweed," Jihwan replies, also ignoring Jiseok's attempts to get their attention. "This wolf didn't have that coastal scent. Definitely not one of the Kims. Besides, they're way too far out. They wouldn't risk crossing the deadly marshes just to leave a scent on a tree in our territory."
"Hello?!"
"Yeah, you're right," Daehyun nods. "So who was it?"
"WHY IS NO ONE LISTENING TO ME?" Jiseok throws in with a growl. "I am sure it was someone from the Jeon Pack."
Jimin wants to roll his eyes. His middle brother's grudge against the Jeon Pack is almost laughable. It all stems from a time a few years back when one of the Jeon pack's hunters chased Jiseok off the neutral hunting grounds in the north. No one ever really got why they did that, but rumours floated around that the Jeons wanted that territory for themselves. Since then, Jiseok's turned the Jeon Pack into his personal vendetta, and he's always ready to jump to war at the slightest excuse.
Like now.
Jiseok's expression says it all, the way his brown eyes narrow and his lips curl into a sneer shows just how much he despises the Jeon Pack. He's sitting there all tense, his back ramrod straight like he's ready to pounce. His arms bulge as he flexes them, almost like he's daring someone to challenge him. The leather vest he's wearing looks like it's about to give up the fight, straining against his muscles with every move. As usual he is showing off just how tough he is, making sure everyone sees the power in those coiled muscles.
"It's always them," he hisses while releasing a thick cloud of rotting oakmoss scent.
Daehyun scoffs. "But they don't smell like rain."
"Alpha Hoseok could be wrong, appa," Jiseok says. "And scents can be misleading. Look at Jimin. He doesn't smell like the rest of us Parks either."
The words hit like a punch. Saying a wolf doesn't smell like the pack is like saying they don't belong there, like they're only being tolerated.
Jimin steals a glance at his mother, Yuna, hoping for a sign of support. She doesn't flinch, but he sees the flicker of pain in her eyes. In the end, anything against Jimin is an indirect jab against her too. He smells of blood oranges because of her. Because Head Omega Lim Yuna wasn't born in this pack. Her family lives in a land far away, a place with vibrant sunlit meadows and fragrant groves of citrus trees.
When Jimin was young, she'd described his blond hair and distinct scent as a piece of her heritage, calling it a 'gift from the south.' She'd told him of bright, sweet-smelling oranges and warm hills, worlds away from the rugged Park territory.
"It's the southern blood in your veins, my son," his mother had said. "The Lim family comes from a land far to the south, where the sun always shines bright and the air smells of sweet citrus blossoms. It's a place of rolling hills and vibrant landscapes, so different from Gyerim, from this cold and unforgiving land."
Jimin had listened in awe, mesmerised by her story.
"You know," she continued, "I used to climb orange trees when I was young. The branches were strong, and the fruits were so sweet. I'd sit up there with my friends, soaking in the sunshine, feeling the warmth on my face and the scent of blood oranges all around. It was a world full of life… a world so different from here."
Her eyes grew distant as she spoke, and Jimin could almost see the vivid images she painted with her words.
"I felt awful when I had to leave all that behind to come here and meet your abeoji for the first time. When I saw this place, I was shocked. The land was so barren, like a wound that wouldn't heal. Your halabeoji, Park Siwoo, had hunted so recklessly that there were hardly any animals left. Gyerim's forest was stripped bare, and Buyeo's waters ran thin. I remember thinking, 'Where's the lush green? Where's the life and colour?' It was like stepping into a whole different universe. One that felt empty and harsh compared to what I'd left behind."
Jimin knew prey was always scarce, but he didn't realise it was because of his grandfather's greed and disregard for the land.
"It was always hard for me not to miss the vibrant oranges and the golden sunshine. But then, I had you. Your hair, it's like a splash of that southern sun, and your eyes… they shine like the blood oranges I used to love."
No one in their pack even knew what blood oranges were, not really. Only his mum, who'd grown up around citrus trees, and who still dreams about them even now.
Jimin swallows. Those tales felt magical when he was little, but with his brother pointing at him now, that 'gift' only marks him as different.
"Why don't you want to see it, appa?" Jiseok barks.
"Oh, it's not like that you foolish pup."
"But you're just dismissing it without even thinking about it!"
"I'm not dismissing anything. I'm just being reasonable."
"Of course you are brushing it off!" Jiseok protests, taking a step forward. "You are literally ignoring the possibility!"
"I'm not ignoring anything," Daehyun says, his voice firm, trying to stay calm. "I'm weighing the options. Looking at all sides. That's what I do."
"Then you should see it, appa," Jiseok argues. "You should see what's right in front of you! It has to be the Jeon pack. Maybe one of them we don't know yet. I mean who knows? It could be Head Alpha Hajoonssi's son himself. What's his name again? Jeongguk? We don't know what he looks like. It could have been him."
"Oh, shut up!" Daehyun growls, his eyes flashing red. "I won't accuse their head alpha's son without having any proof! Besides, Hajoon is way smarter than that. He wouldn't do something as stupid as sending his son, his only heir, right into our territory."
"Are you defending them now?" Jiseok sneers with crossed arms. "They're the ones behind all the attacks, and you're just gonna pretend they're innocent?"
"I'm defending facts, Jiseok. We need proof, not petty grudges."
"Grudge? The Jeons make the most sense because the scent mark was close to the northern grounds. Besides, they've been preying on our lands for years. You know it, we all know it!"
Jihwan steps in and raises a hand in a defending manner. "We don't know anything. Don't jump to conclusions."
Jiseok's fists clench. "Of course, you would say that, hyung, wouldn't you? Always the calm one, always playing it safe, always saying what appa wants to hear."
Both brothers are releasing their scents in full force now, trying to assert dominance, to show their resolve. But Jimin can feel his father's scent spiking too, something sharp and dangerous, and he sees the storm building in his beady eyes. It's frightening. He's seen his father angry before, but this feels different. There's a heat, a fire in Daehyun's scent that makes Jimin's skin crawl.
"Look, I'm just saying we can't act rashly," Jihwan retorts. "What if it's a false alarm? We can't risk starting a war over a scent. A war will cost us more than just pride. Think of the pack, not just your bruised ego."
"This isn't about ego. What the fuck are you all talking about?! It's not even about me. I just want us all to do something! We've been sitting back for too long while the Jeons attack our borders and press us down. At least I'm trying to protect the pack. You–" Jiseok points his finger at Jihwan and Daehyun now, "Jihwan, are too busy worrying about keeping everyone happy, and you, appa, you still seem to be afraid of them!"
Jimin's breath catches and he takes a step back. He knows this is the worst Jiseok could say.
"ENOUGH!" Daehyun roars, using his alpha voice.
It happened just as Jimin feared. The sheer force of their father's growl slices through the chaos, making everyone freeze in place and submit to their leader.
"You, Jiseok, watch your mouth. You know nothing. We're not making any decisions based on guesswork. We'll have every patrol on high alert, but we're not starting a conflict with the Jeon pack without proof. End of discussion."
And that's it. The argument's over, and with it, dinner's cut short, the mood crushed under the weight of the head alpha's fury. No one's in the mood to talk or eat anymore, Daehyun’s threatening aura and scent leaving them no room to breathe, let alone speak. It's like Daehyun's very presence has snuffed out all warmth, leaving only the cold, hard truth of his tyranny.
Jimin and his mother quietly begin collecting the wooden bowls and spoons. They'll wash them in the small bucket inside their hut. Jihwan stands up and heads straight for the warriors' tent, his shoulders tense, his steps brisk, but he says nothing. Jiseok, on the other hand, stomps off into the forest, letting the trees take the brunt of his anger.
Only Daehyun remains seated, still nibbling on the last scraps of dry meat, his face set in a hard, unyielding line.
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The night is quiet, with only the soft noises of the pack settling in for the night as Jimin leaves his parents and walks through the camp.
His eyes instinctively find Taehyung's home. It's a habit now, an unspoken promise they've kept over the years. Every night, one of them visits the other for a final moment together, just to check in, share a smile, and make the day feel a little less heavy.
Jimin wishes Taehyung's tent was right next to his down in the southern part of the camp, but instead, it's all the way across the clearing in the north, where Taehyung's family keeps the pack's goats. They are responsible for tending to them, milking them each morning and night, and making sure the goats are fed and protected from predators. It's a demanding job, and one that keeps Taehyung tied to his family.
As Jimin comes closer, he catches the faint smell of the goats on the breeze. He's used to it now, doesn't even mind it as it reminds him of Taehyung.
He can also hear the soft bleating before he sees them, huddled close together on this cold night. And of course, there's Taehyung, sitting cross-legged in front of his tent, a tiny baby goat curled up in his lap. He strokes its soft fur absentmindedly, but his eyes flick up as soon as Jimin approaches. Their eyes meet, and a small smile tugs at both their lips. Not many words are needed when it's just them.
"Hey, Minie-yah, how was dinner with the family?" Taehyung asks, the familiar nickname easily rolling off his lips. It stems from a time when Taehyung couldn't say Jimin's name properly as a pup.
"Same as usual I guess," Jimin replies. He slides down next to Taehyung, knees brushing together.
"You mean 'horrible'?"
Jimin huffs out a small laugh. "Pretty much."
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not really." Settling back on his hands, Jimin lets his gaze wander to the stars. "It's the same old thing, you know? My hyungs always try to outgrowl each other. Jihwan hyung's always taking charge, and Jiseok hyung's, he's just... always itching for a fight."
Taehyung huffs and raises a brow. "Let me guess, he's talking about going after the Jeons again, isn't he?"
"Absolutely."
"And your abeoji?"
Jimin's shoulders sag. "Appa's… just Appa. Always has to remind everyone he's the head alpha, like we could forget."
"That's what head alphas do, I suppose."
"Yeah, I guess."
There's an ache in Jimin's voice, one born of years spent yearning for something more than his father being just the head alpha. Especially when he was younger, he wished that Park Daehyun would be kinder to him, but being head alpha defines his father entirely.
Taehyung hums. "Must be exhausting."
"It really is," Jimin admits tiredly. "Sometimes I just wish I could escape all that."
He stretches his legs out, letting out a tired groan when his joints pop. The chill of the evening clings to his skin and makes him crave the shared warmth of Taehyung and the baby goat on his lap. He shifts a bit closer to them.
"So, how was your evening? Anything interesting with the goats?"
"No, just the usual feeding and milking. It's been a quiet night."
Leaning his head against Taehyung's shoulder, Jimin reaches out to scratch the baby goat behind its ear. "Sounds peaceful, at least."
"Yeah, it helps me to gain strength for tomorrow," Taehyung says and ends his words with a long sigh.
"Tomorrow?"
"I'm on birthing duty tomorrow. Sohee noona's already in the birthing tent, about to go into labour, but…" Taehyung trails off, glancing at Jimin with a knowing look.
Jimin doesn't need to ask. He knows the whole messy situation. Omega Sohee's barely two years older than them, mated to Alpha Minhyuk, who is Jihwan's right hand. Minhyuk is a strong alpha, great in battle and a skilled hunter, but he is also a lousy mate. He's absent and unreliable. For example, instead of being at Sohee's side during her pregnancy, preparing for the arrival of their first pup, Minhyuk spends his nights with Omega Jiho, the widower of his late friend, Alpha Doyun, who died during winter. It's no secret. The whispers follow Minhyuk wherever he goes, but it's Sohee left to suffer in silence.
Jimin imagines what it would be like to have a mate, the one meant to complete you, who finds happiness not in your arms but in between another person's thighs. It hurts to even think about it. He quickly has to blink away the images of an alpha whispering a name that isn't his, of hands that roam over skin that belongs to someone else.
"I hope it won't be too painful for her."
Both know that Jimin doesn't just mean the labour itself, and the risks of early births, but also the general situation of an omega going through something so important, so vulnerable, without their alpha by their side. Even if that's the status quo in their pack.
"Yeah," Taehyung sighs, his shoulders slumping, eyes flicking away from Jimin's for a moment.
They clearly understand the fellow omega's agony. It's a pain that runs deeper than any physical wound could ever do, something that can linger in a heart and poisons a soul.
Taehyung leans in, pressing his nose gently against Jimin's cheek, as if imprinting his scent to keep with him through the night.
"Minie, it's going to be a long day tomorrow. Let's try to rest while we can," he says after a while, gesturing toward the other side of the clearing where Jimin's tent stands.
Nodding, Jimin rises slowly. "Yeah. I know."
They exchange one last glance, lingering for a moment longer than usual. The thoughts of Sohee, labour, alphas and pups taking a toll on them, before Taehyung says, "Goodnight, my dear Minie."
"Goodnight, my Taetae."
As Jimin retreats to his tent, a quiet thought lingers in his mind: He wishes they could always protect each other from such pain. He just doesn't know how yet.
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A deep wolf howl cutting through the silent night is always a bad omen. Tonight, it's no different.
The moon hangs high in the sky when Jimin hears it. It makes his blood curdle. Outside of his tent are people, their raw and frantic cries filling the silence.
"Get him to the healer, hurry!" one of the voices shouts, accompanied by haunting noises of wolves crashing through the clearing.
"Where's the village patrol? We need more help here!"
For a moment, Jimin lies there in a frozen state, tangled in his nest, eyes wide open, heart thundering as he strains to make sense of the noise. Fear is holding him down, pressing him into the furs beneath him. Only when he hears a familiar howl it releases its claws.
Something's wrong. Really wrong. Because that was his brother Jiseok.
"Hyung…"
Throwing off the warm furs from his body, Jimin scrambles to his feet and outside. The night air hits him hard as he pushes the tent flap aside, but what he sees there almost knocks him out.
Around him are half a dozen other wolves stumbling into the clearing, some dragging themselves, others limping, their fur torn and matted with blood. The moonlight catches the slick red that stains their coats, turning the clearing into a scene straight out of a nightmare.
Jimin covers his nose with his palm, trying to block out the stench. His legs feel like they're made of stone as he steps out, bare feet sinking into the cold, damp earth, but something inside him refuses to let him stop. It drags him forward, even as his mind screams to retreat.
And then he sees him. Time immediately slows and the world narrows to the brutal sight of Jiseok limping toward the infirmary tent, his best friend Alpha Youngchul steadying him. Jimin whines when he sees his brother's grey fur plastered with blood, one leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Jiseok's once-proud stance is now slumped, hunched over in a way that makes Jimin's heart ache. The sight is almost too much to bear, and a sharp cry tears from his throat before he can stop it.
"Hyung!"
He breaks into a run, wanting to see what happened to his brother. Their bond might not be strong or full of love, but Jiseok is his brother, his family, his blood.
"Hyung!" Jimin screams again.
Jiseok doesn't respond though. Probably because he's barely conscious, swaying on his feet as more pack members hurry to his side, helping Youngchul as they drag Jiseok inside the healer's tent.
"This can't be!" Jimin runs faster, desperate to get there as well, but as soon as he's close enough to grab the tent flap, a gruff hand shoves him back.
"You can't go in," the healer, Beomseok, an old beta growls. "This is no place for you, Omega."
Jimin stumbles backward, his feet slipping on the cold, dewy grass, but he doesn't back down. "But he's my family!"
Beomseok's glare is icy, full of cold disapproval. "It doesn't matter. You'll only bring bad luck in there. Stay out of the way."
It's always horrible hearing such words, but now, it feels even worse. Jimin's chest tightens painfully. He isn't a curse. He is a wolf, just like all the other alphas and betas.
He tries to push forward again, but Beomseok's grip is unyielding.
"Go away!"
For the second time this night, the old beta tosses Jimin aside like it's nothing, like he is not the head alpha's youngest son.
He falls to the ground. His knees slam into the earth, but it's the sting of humiliation that hurts more. Furious tears blur his vision, but he barely notices. His eyes are locked on the sight of Jiseok being hauled into the healer's tent, limp and bloodied, his head lolling to the side.
Every muscle in Jimin's body screams to move, to do something, but he's frozen, helpless as the tent flap falls shut behind his brother, cutting off his last thread of hope. He's never felt more useless.
"No..."
As the moments stretch painfully, rain begins to fall. At first, it's just a soft drizzle, the kind that taps gently on leaves and earth. But soon, it thickens into a steady downpour, typical of early spring. Namely, a relentless, cold rain that chills Jimin to the bone, seeping into his clothes and soaking his hair. Raindrops slide down his cheeks, mingling with the tears he can no longer hold back. His brother could be dying, yet he's been cast aside, left to wait in the cold.
He shivers, shoulders hunched as pack members shuffle out of the tent one by one, their faces grim and hurried. But not a single one acknowledges him, not a flicker of concern or a passing glance. He feels invisible, like a ghost standing in the rain.
Only when he spots a hunter he recognises but doesn't know by name does he jump to his feet again. The middle-aged alpha is usually kind and doesn't treat omegas like they are less.
"Please, ahjussi" Jimin pleads. "What's going on? How is Jiseok hyung?"
The man, who is called Junsu, avoids Jimin's gaze, only looks past him with a troubled frown. "The healer is still working on him. I don't know much."
Jimin's heart sinks. "But is he... is he going to be okay?"
Junsu's face softens just a little, and he releases a faint, calming resin scent. "I don't know, but they're doing everything they can. Just wait. It'll be okay."
Jimin clings to the man's words, though they do little to ease the tight knot of fear in his chest. And it only gets worse when he sees the face of his father arriving from the other end of the village.
Together with his mate, Jimin's mother, he bursts into the little space in front of the big healer's tent, rain streaming off his face, his jaw tight and eyes hard. He zeroes in on Jimin immediately, who instantly braces himself, fearing the worst.
"What's going on?"
Jimin's throat feels like it's been clenched shut, but he manages to croak out, "I-I don't know. I heard the howling and the cries. There were wolves, all hurt and bleeding. I saw Jiseokie hyung being brought in... but no one would let me in."
Daehyun's jaw tightens like he's biting back rage and strides into the tent. As the head alpha, he doesn't need permission or explanations. He simply takes charge.
Jimin looks after them, wishing that he could just follow them when fingers touch his shoulder, softly pressing down. It's his mother, her face ashen and her eyes rimmed with red. She had been crying, telling Jimin that they already knew what must have happened and that his father's question was more about what Jimin knew rather than seeking details he already knew.
"Come here, puppy," Yuna says softly, which breaks him out of whatever he was starting to assume or think. She wraps her arm around him and guides him under a tree that offers a bit of shelter. The rain continues to pour down, but for the first time, Jimin feels a spark of warmth amidst the cold.
"It's going to be okay. Eomma is here. We'll get through this together."
The fearful look in her eyes betrays her words. Nothing feels okay. Nothing will be okay.
"Eomma, what happened? Why does no one want to tell me?"
"You see, Jiseok..." Yuna starts. "He tried to cross into Jeon Pack territory. You know how he was earlier, after everything that happened... he was furious, convinced it was a Jeon wolf who entered our land. He wanted to show it was them, to prove a point."
"Oh no…" This is worse than Jimin could have imagined. His heart sinks as he listens, the cold reality settling in.
"But he and his group of warriors were intercepted by Jeon's night patrol right at the border. There was a massive fight. Jiseok got hurt, really badly hurt. One of the alphas that was with him rushed straight to us, telling us everything that happened." She looks around for a second before she continues in a hushed whisper, "Your abeoji is trying to keep it quiet. What Jiseok did could turn into a full-blown war between our packs. And none of us are ready for that. Our pack wouldn't stand a chance if it came to it."
She is right. It was beyond reckless. If war broke out, it wouldn't just mean losing Jiseok. It could mean the end of their way of life, of their safety in the woods they call home. Jimin can already envision the bloodshed, the cries of their pack members falling in battle. The Jeons would undoubtedly strike hard, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake. Everyone knows that they are strong and ruthless. Even whispering head alpha's name Jeon Hajoon can bring a chill into every tent.
Over thirty years ago, Jimin's father made the reckless choice to hunt a mountain lion as a grand mating gift for Jimin's mother. The problem was, however, that the lion's territory overlapped with the Jeon pack's grounds. So Daehyun didn't get far before running into Jeon Hajoon himself. What happened next wasn't a simple fight. Daehyun came back barely alive, his ribs cracked, a long gash down his side, and no mountain lion to show. It was a massacre so to speak.
"But why? Why didn't anyone stop him, Eomma?"
Tears shimmer in Yuna's eyes that are catching the faint moonlight. Her hand brushes the damp hair from Jimin's face as she shakes her head.
"You know how your hyung is, puppy. Once Jiseok gets something in his head... no one can stand in his way. He thought he was protecting the pack, proving something, but he didn't think it through. He didn't stop to think what this could cost him. What it could cost us."
The image of his older brother, leading a handful of hunters toward the Jeon border with nothing but rage and pride pushing him forward, plays over and over in Jimin's mind. He can almost hear the snarls and growls of the fight, the scent of blood, and the wild desperation of a battle that should never have been fought. Another rush of tears is flowing from his eyes, but before he can say anything else, a familiar scent drifts through the clearing. Earthy mushrooms that almost smells like his father's.
It's Jihwan. His older brother strides into view. He looks equally worried and angry, elk skin hanging crookedly over his shoulder. His patrol must have only just ended, the dirt and grime from the northern borders still clinging to him, rain drenching his dark hair. It's clear he's only just heard about what happened.
"Eomma, Jimin," Jihwan says as he approaches. He nods at Jimin and bows to their mother, who gives him a tight, pained smile.
"Jihwan, you're here," Yuna says. She reaches out, resting a hand on her oldest son's arm. Jihwan glances down at her for a brief moment and takes her hand to give her a reassuring squeeze before his gaze flicks to Jimin. For a short moment, his eyes soften, but it quickly disappears before he turns toward his mother.
"I want to have a look at him, Eomma."
Without saying anything further, Jihwan pushes the flap open and disappears inside. Jimin watches in stunned silence. He doesn't notice that he has his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He is just so angry. No one stops his brother, nor questions his presence. The healer doesn't bark at him to stay back or shove him to the ground like he did with Jimin. Jihwan just walks in without anyone making any kind of fuss. There isn't an ounce of hesitation in his steps. For him, it always seems to be the most natural thing in the world.
And once again, Jimin is left outside. He is useless and unwanted. It's always the same. Neither him nor his mother are alphas. They are only omegas. Alphas are worthy and deemed important. They are allowed to know things, to choose their mate, even to hunt and fight. The bitter ache in Jimin's chest is one he knows too well. No matter how hard an omega tries, no matter how much they fight to be seen as something more than just a caretaker or a mate, they're always the ones left behind. Always the ones watching from the outside while the alphas do what really matters.
But soon, it'll be enough for Jimin. He doesn't know when it'll happen, but he can feel it coming, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. This anger, this hurt, is too painful to ignore. Something will have to happen. And when it does, Jimin knows he won't just sit quietly in the shadows anymore.
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That night, Jimin dreams of a faceless wolf, dark and looming.
He can't make out its features, but he knows it's there, right behind him. The wolf's breath is hot on his neck as he runs, tripping over rocks and roots, his heart pounding in his chest. The forest is unfamiliar, a blur of shadows and trees, and no matter how fast he runs, the wolf stays right on his heels.
His legs ache, and his breath comes in sharp gasps as he pushes himself harder, when suddenly, he sees his family through the trees ahead. His mother, father, and his two brothers are standing in a line, their backs turned to him.
"Eomma! Appa! Hyungs! Help!" Jimin shouts.
The figures don't move. Not a glance, not a twitch. It's as if they can't hear him, or worse, don't care. The silence coming from them feels colder than the night air.
"Help me!"
The gap between them grows wider with each step he takes, like they're being pulled away by some unseen force.
They're drifting apart. Literally drifting apart. Jimin's hands stretch toward them, fingers grasping at air as they slip further from his reach.
"Please! Somebody, help me!" He shouts again, but before he can even take another step, the ground shifts beneath him, and the wolf's presence is suddenly much closer. Too close.
Jimin doesn't dare turn around. He can't. If he looks, it'll be there. He knows it. And yet, the need claws at him. Every nerve in his body screams to know what's behind him.
The wolf yips once. Twice. A low growl follows, deep and rumbling, like thunder. Impatient. As if it wants him to look, wants him to see.
Jimin freezes mid-step. His breath catches in his throat. His legs feel like they'll give out, but somehow, he forces them to stay locked in place.
He doesn't move. Neither does the wolf. It makes Jimin's skin crawl, goosebumps forming everywhere on his body.
His chin trembles as it tilts on its own, drawn toward the wolf. It's like invisible hands are guiding him, twisting his body until he's forced to face it.
The wolf is there. Black fur shimmering in the faint light and golden eyes. Watching. Waiting.
Jimin can't breathe. He bolts upright, gasping, the dream crashing around him as he wakes. Sweat is clinging to his skin. His chest heaves, and for a moment, he's still trapped in the memory. He can still see the wolf's gaze, the silence, the way it had felt so real, like it wasn't just a dream, like it was sent to him from the moon goddess herself.
Jimin swallows, trying to push the dread away, but it stays with him. He feels it deep in his bones: something is shifting, not just out there in the world, but in his life.
Things are changing, and it scares him.
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In another part of the world, a tall young man leans against the side of a grand stone house, his arms casually crossed in front of his chest. His shirt's off despite the cold, showing a lean, wiry body covered in black tattoos that twist and stretch over his honey-like skin. His dark hair is a mess, flopping over his forehead like he's just come back from a reckless, or rather stupid, adventure.
He is waiting, not too patiently, as his father takes his sweet time coming down the wide staircase.
"You called me, Appa?"
His father, tall and broad with the same dark doe eyes, stops in front of him.
"Adeura…" He looks exactly like his son, just with a few extra years and deeper lines etched into his face. "Why did you do that?"
He doesn't smell happy. His ginseng scent is even more bitter than usual.
"Do what?" The son grins, his lips curling into a full smirk, revealing the sharp fangs that make his smile even more cheeky. Coupled with a small mole under his bottom lip and one on his nose, it also could be described as charismatic. It's a look he knows works in his favour.
"Don't play dumb with me." His father sighs, dark eyes narrowing slightly. "My scouts have seen you crossing the border. More than once, I hear."
"Jackson hyung has snitched, huh? Should have known he would tell you," he says under his breath, already knowing it's a weak deflection.
"No, it wasn't your friend Kayee. But that's beside the point. You've been provoking another pack. And you know that this pack is volatile and unpredictable."
"That's exactly why I'm doing it," the son says, eyes flashing golden. "They need to understand that there are consequences to their actions."
His father growls low in his throat, a typical parent sound, born out of years of frustration. "By trespassing on their territory?"
"I'm not exactly trespassing," the son counters quickly. "That part of their territory once belonged to the northern grounds. No pack has the right to claim it."
"You don't understand the danger you're courting." His father's voice has turned almost tired, as though he has explained this a hundred times already. "You're making moves that can't be undone. Pushing them too far is foolish. Look at what happened with their head alpha's son. He came at us, unprovoked, and failed."
The son stands a little straighter, the fire in his eyes only growing hotter. "He got what he deserved. And to be honest, Jackson hyung's patrol actually handled it quite decently. They could've killed them, but they didn't. They held back. That's more mercy than that horrible pack deserves."
The father sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he's exhausted from trying to reason with his son. "I love you... but sometimes, you make me weak."
The son steps back, raking a hand through his dark hair. "I love you, too, appa. But seriously, you're starting to get too soft with our enemies," he says under a soft chuckle.
"Soft, huh? Wait until you're the head alpha. We'll see how bold you are then."
"For that, I'd need a mate first," the son winks. "And sorry, appa, but that's not happening anytime soon."
The older man raises an eyebrow at him, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"You shouldn't talk this big. The Moon Goddess always has a way of surprising us all."
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