Chapter Text
Mira couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside her had shifted after they saved the world and built Honmoon from nothing. It was like she had regained a piece of herself she hadn’t realized was missing - like she’d been walking around hollow without knowing it, and now some unknown fragment had clicked back into place.
What was it? She didn’t know. Maybe she never would. The thought infuriated her - she hated not knowing something.
The sensation nagged at her - a strange, almost aching awareness that her life wasn’t quite the same anymore, no matter how much everything around her looked the same as always. She told herself she was imagining it. If anything had actually changed, it was Rumi and the revelation of her half demon lineage. The glowing gold eyes, the sharp claws, the jagged purple marks all up and down her body. The world saw it as a promotional stunt for their songs but to people like them - demon hunters - it was a tense topic of conversation for many weeks after the big fight with Gwi-ma. How could it not be? There had been betrayal, secrets, loss, and love. After everything that happened, it only brought the three of them closer, each holding onto layers of guilt at how that day had gone.
So much had changed. And yet… nothing had. Huntrix was still the world’s most famous Alpha Trio, still filling arenas, still topping charts - only now, one of them was covered in dark ink that fans endlessly theorized about online. Only people connected to the Honmoon could see how they flickered with ranges of emotion when Rumi was worked up, something that the other two enjoyed immensely. Mira rubbed at her neck, pressing against a sore spot she hadn’t noticed until recently.
Another early morning. Another day crammed full of interviews and pop-up TV performances, the sort of endless promotional circuit that made time blur together. Mira was always up first - not because she had to be, but because it was the only chance she had to exist in the quiet, to move her body without anyone else in her space. The only time she could breathe without someone else watching. A solid comfort in her life stemming from the many lonely days growing up in her household.
Mira took the quiet time to relax the ever present tension in her body by doing full body stretching. The only time she could get it done without the bundle of energy known as Zoey yapping her ear off about turtles the whole time.
She stretched slowly, savoring the ache in her muscles and the sunrise falling into their penthouse windows. Alone was easier, in some ways. At least when she was alone, she didn’t have to have her mask up as strong. It was exhausting sometimes being a stoic bitch all the time.
Once she finished, she padded into the kitchen, bare feet silent on the tile. Making drinks in the morning has become a ritual - muscle memory, comfort in routine. The teal espresso machine gleamed under the soft light above the counter, and just seeing it made her chest ease a little.
Making hand crafted drinks was her one constant, the one thing she let herself enjoy without restraint. It was the one part of her routine that felt entirely hers. It was the only thing that could get her to talk more than two sentences at a time to someone other than the girls, if you asked her what her favorite kind of coffee bean was.
Pulling out the bag of beans she’d picked up from the tiny roastery three blocks down, she inhaled the rich, nutty scent as she opened it. The smell always hit her right in the chest - comforting, grounding, the first spark of life before the day began. Sanity in liquid form.
She poured a careful amount of beans into the grinder, the rhythmic whirr filling the quiet apartment. Mira leaned against the counter as she waited, eyes closing for just a second, lips twitching upward in the smallest smile. It wasn’t much, but this was her peace.
The grinder stopped, and she brushed the freshly ground coffee into the portafilter, tamping it down with practiced precision. She locked it into place, pressed the button, and watched with quiet satisfaction as dark, golden espresso began to drip steadily into the preheated cups.
It smelled heavenly.
She let herself hum - barely audible - as she pulled out the milk for her and Rumi’s drinks, setting up the steaming pitcher. She always wanted hers sweet, a little more foam than normal, while Rumi liked hers closer to a flat white, just enough micro foam to soften the edge of the espresso. Zoey’s was literally just two espresso shots in a cup, literal motor oil. Mira had memorized it all without a second thought.
The steam wand hissed, fogging up her round glasses and clouding her vision for a moment, and Mira found herself smiling a little more. There were only three things in the world that ever managed to make her smile without effort - coffee, Zoey, and Rumi. Coffee first, obviously.
As the milk reached the perfect temperature, she swirled the pitcher, tapped it on the countertop gently, poured slowly, and tilted Rumi’s cup just right to make a heart appear in the foam. No one ever saw her do it since it dissipated by the time the girls got up - it wasn’t like she’d admit she took the time to pour latte art - but it mattered to her. For some reason.
She lined up the cups on the counter, three in total, the sweetest one for herself. The apartment was still silent, the others still asleep.
This was her favorite part of the morning - before the chaos, before the schedules, before she had to be Mira the Alpha.
Here, she was just Mira, making coffee for the two people she loved most in the world.
The smell filled the apartment, rich and warm, and Mira heard the sounds of movement from down the hall. She didn’t even have to turn to know it was the girls waking up.
Right on time, Zoey and Rumi emerged from Rumi’s room, looking rumpled and glowing in that way people only did when they’d spent the night wrapped up in each other.
Nothing unusual about that. Mira had known for years that they were together - everyone knew. She accidentally came home to them making out on their couch one night and they wouldn’t stop apologizing for weeks. It’s not like it shocked her; they were both extremely talented and beautiful people who deserve the best which was clearly each other. The only thing that was mildly surprising was that they bonded with each other even though they were Alphas.
It was a constant point of fascination during interviews, the world unable to get over the fact that two Alphas had broken convention to be with each other. Mira always shut those questions down as fast as they appeared, throwing herself between her bandmates and prying eyes without hesitation. The questions stopped eventually, the general public terrified of the third Alpha’s threatening demeanor.
It didn’t bother her that they were together, and she was the technical third wheel of their group. They did not treat her any different - always included her in their plans, and most days spent every waking second with her. But then there were always the small moments: like how Rumi’s eyes softened at the random fact about turtles from Zoey, or how Zoey would brush Rumi’s long ass hair after her shower with such care. Moments like that tugged at Mira sometimes, made her feel left out.
Left out?
Her gaze lingered on them for far too long, flicking over Zoey’s mussed hair, Rumi’s flushed cheeks, the faint bite marks trailing along Zoey’s collarbone that Rumi hadn’t bothered to hide that the makeup department was going to have a conniption fit over. The sight burned in Mira’s chest, hot and hollow all at once.
What they have is special, she thought, the ache behind the words sharper than she wanted to admit. Not something I’ll ever be a part of.
She swallowed hard, forcing the thought down into the same dark corner where she buried every unspoken longing, every bit of quiet hunger she never let herself feel for too long. That place inside her was already too full - crammed with the things she couldn’t say, wouldn’t let herself want. All crammed behind her mask.
Her fingers drifted to her neck again. It felt sore - like something beneath the skin was irritated.
“Morning, lovebirds,” Mira said as they shuffled in, her voice pitched just light enough to sound teasing instead of bitter. She leaned her hip against the counter, cradling her coffee like it was armor. “Sounded like your night went well.”
Their walls were thin. Apparently. Who knew? Certainly not Mira. Not like she listened to when her friends had sex in the next room over multiple times on purpose. Nope. Never.
Zoey’s head snapped up, her dark eyes widening in mock offense. “Oh my god, ” she gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like Mira had stabbed her straight through the heart. “Did you seriously just call us out like that? First thing in the morning? No caffeine, no foreplay?”
Rumi froze mid-step, halfway to her mug. “Zoey…” she murmured in a half-whisper, cheeks going scarlet. She looked horrified.
“Hey now,” Zoey fired at Mira, voice rising to her usual theatrical pitch that was loud as hell first thing in the morning as she strode over and grabbed her small cup of espresso shots. “I’ll have you know I have plenty of stamina. I can sing, dance, slay demons, and fuck in between all that and still show up flawless. Don’t underestimate me, babe.”
She chugged the shots down in one gulp, savoring the taste like she’d just won the exchange. Mira could practically see her Alpha pride puffing up like a cat’s tail. Zoey had always been like that - never truly threatening, just loud , the kind of person who needed the world to know she could back up every bit of her talk in that tiny body of hers.
Rumi, meanwhile, had gone perfectly still after grabbing her flat white, her mug clutched tight in both hands as if she could disappear into the steam rising from it. “I don’t believe this” she mumbled, her voice so soft Mira almost didn’t catch it. The tips of her ears were bright red. Still mortified.
“Don’t worry babe, I’m sure Mira didn’t mind the noise!” Zoey bumped her shoulder playfully against Rumi’s, nearly making her spill her drink. She shot a wink at Mira. Mira watched the exchange with a tight smile, sipping at her coffee as if that would keep her face from betraying anything. Mask always on.
“Gremlin,” she muttered finally, shaking her head. She took another sip to drown out the thoughts of Rumi and Zoey entangled in each other so close to her last night, the sounds of moans and praises drifting through the walls. It made for a very restless night.
Zoey gasped again, pretending to be horrified. “Gremlin? Gremlin?! I am the moment, Mira. I’m iconic. Don’t disrespect me like that in my own house.”
“You’re literally in our house,” Mira shot back, rolling her eyes.
“Semantics.”
Rumi gave a soft little laugh at that, the sound warm enough to make Mira’s chest ache.
It was stupid. The three of them had been through hell together, literally - saving the world, rebuilding it, fighting side by side more times than Mira could count. Zoey and Rumi loved her. They were best friends, soulmates on a platonic level. She knew that. But it didn’t stop the lonely, hollow feeling that curled up in her chest whenever she caught them sneaking touches or sharing glances.
It wasn’t even jealousy - at least, not in the traditional sense. She didn’t want to take Zoey away from Rumi, or Rumi from Zoey. She wanted to belong, to be wrapped up in their world the same way they were in each other’s. Belong with both of them, together.
But she couldn’t.
Not when her entire life was a lie. When everything they see is fake.
She took another long sip of coffee, letting the heat scald her tongue just to focus on something real, and turned to face the espresso machine to busy herself with cleaning up her mess.
The high-and-mighty Alpha Mira.
The perfect daughter. The trophy heir. The one who had never so much as kissed someone, too busy playing the role her parents had carved out for her, let alone be any sort of intimate with anyone. Not that anyone would want to be with her anyways, what with her stone faced attitude and “don’t touch me” vibes.
Her hand drifted up, fingertips brushing her neck. The reminder was always there, even if no one else noticed it - the proof of what they’d done to her. How they’d carved out her scent glands before they could even develop as a child, cutting away the parts of her that made her an Omega. Without them, she’d never gone into heat. Never gave off pheromones. Never smelled anyone else’s. She was scentless, like a Beta, and that made the mask easier to wear. Waking up every morning and stabbing a needle into her inner thigh to inject the smell of a synthetic Alpha into her body. It wasn’t strong, it wasn’t emotionally tied to her like a true Alpha’s pheromones were, but it was enough to where people did not question her and just thought she was closed off.
And wear it she had. Anything to get away from her family.
Her parents had let her join Huntrix only because she could get connections for her father’s businesses. Further their Alpha empire in the banking world. Mira always needed to be connected, always in the limelight. Always on the lookout for more business partners for her father. Whatever it takes to stay here, in this house, with these girls.
Without Huntrix, Mira would have been locked away, hidden somewhere far from the public eye. The world wouldn’t even know she existed had she stayed an Omega, her parents made that abundantly clear. How they can make everything, including her, disappear just like that.
So she sang. She danced. She played her part.
Because if she slipped - if anyone found out what she really was - she’d lose everything.
Zoey flopped onto the couch with her mug, kicking her feet up on the coffee table like she owned the place. “So, Mira, what’s on the agenda today? More awkward interviews where we’re all supposed to pretend we aren’t fucking? Oh wait - you don’t have to pretend. How nice.”
“Zo.” Rumi nudged her lightly, but she was smiling. She seemed amused for some reason.
“Don’t Zo me. It’s unfair that we have to lie about it but Mimi doesn’t.” Zoey shot Mira a grin, oblivious to the way Mira’s chest clenched at the words. That nickname drove her up the fucking wall, in both a good and bad way.
Mira managed a smirk anyway, swallowing down the ache in her throat. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll take the heat when the press inevitably asks if we’re all sleeping together. As usual.”
Zoey grinned. “You’re the best guard dog. I just love it when you bark.”
I love it when you bark.
Mira almost dropped the milk pitcher she was cleaning and had to fumble awkwardly to catch it before it hit the ground.
“As you should.” Mira said, her tone just right - flippant, teasing, Alpha enough to keep the mask in place. Even as something deep in her, something buried for years, preened at what the Alpha across the room said to her.
And she told herself it was nothing. It needed to be nothing.
“Mira, are you okay?” Rumi’s voice was soft, barely above as her fingers reached out to brush over the crease forming between Mira’s brows. She made her way into the kitchen during Mira’s cleaning and saw the pitcher fumble.
The touch was featherlight - hesitant - but it sent a shiver crawling down Mira’s spine all the same. It took everything in her not to lean into Rumi’s hand, to just close her eyes and savor the fleeting moment of contact she so rarely got. Or flinch back. She wasn’t sure which one. Both were horrible options that would lead to questions she didn’t want asked.
Instead, she forced her face to relax, turning her expression into something neutral. “I’m fine,” she lied smoothly, her lips curving into a practiced smile that felt too tight. Interview ready. “Just had a brief moment of dread thinking about how packed our schedules are this morning.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Zoey groaned dramatically. Her head lolled back, her short black hair spilling loose around her face - a rare moment where her silky black hair was not up in space buns.
Mira had to force herself to look away, to wipe down the espresso machine like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. Don’t stare. Don’t make it weird. Don’t let them see how badly you want to run your hands through her hair. Grab her by the neck and kiss her senseless.
She always felt like she was walking a tightrope - one wrong step, and the fragile balance she’d built with Zoey and Rumi would collapse. So the mask stayed on, even around them. Always around them.
After a few minutes of casual conversation, they split off to get ready for the day. Mira retreated to her room, shutting the door firmly behind her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them; she just… couldn’t. Couldn’t stand the idea of letting them see her like this - undressed, unguarded, vulnerable. Never weak, not her.
She pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a black collared crop top, simple but Mira coded. As she tugged the collar into place, her fingers brushed the back of her neck again. The ache was still there - worse now, like something was buried deep under her skin.
Did something bite me? she wondered, frowning as she checked the mirror. But there was nothing. No mark, no rash, just smooth skin where the faint scars of her childhood surgery had long since faded. Shaking her head, she injected a scent enhancer into her upper leg before she put on her skinny jeans. Always in a spot her bandmates would never see, her inner thighs were just riddled with prick marks from years of needles. Anyone who saw it would probably think she was a drug addict.
“Mira, babe, you ready?” Zoey’s voice came from the hallway, bright and teasing. She could hear the grin in her words. Like she was waiting for her date to finish getting ready.
Mira took a steadying breath and opened the door.
Zoey immediately shot her a pair of finger guns, winking like the little menace she was. “What’s cooking, good looking?” Her hair was now up in her signature space buns, face framed by her bangs.
Mira snorted, brushing past her. “Fucking dork.”
Her ears burned as she walked quickly down the hallway. God, am I really this pathetic? Getting flustered over stupid finger guns?
Yes, she admitted grimly. Yes, I am. I’m so down bad it’s embarrassing.
Zoey and Rumi had always been natural flirts - not just with each other, but with Mira too. It started after she found out that they were dating. It confused and freaked her out at first, but then she got used to brushing it off. And every time, Mira played her part. Cool. Untouched. Sarcastic. The perfect Alpha who couldn’t possibly be fazed by something as trivial as a wink or a lingering touch from another Alpha.
But it always affected her.
Some days, she wanted to give in so badly it hurt. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with all the lingering touches, the closeness, the words. Were they just to make her feel included in a relationship she had no part in? Did they want her to touch and flirt back? Did they want her?
It didn’t matter how they felt anyways. Nothing was going to change.
As they walked down the hallway, Zoey sniffed the air. “Mira, did your scent change? Smells amazing. Really earthy. I like it.” Pheromone scents sometimes shift as people get older but rarely. Just as rare as two Alphas being mates , mused Mira.
Mira blinked, confusion flashing across her face. “What? No. I don’t think so.” She made a show of sniffing her own arm. They met up with Rumi by the elevator.
“It smells nothing like your usual one,” Zoey said, brows furrowed. “It’s… I don’t know. Different. Better, even.” They all stepped into the elevator to get down to the ground floor.
Before Mira could reply, Rumi leaned in close - too close - and sniffed her.
It took everything in Mira not to bolt to the far corner of the elevator as her heart pounded like it was trying to break free of her ribs. She clenched her jaw and bit her tongue. The heat of Rumi’s breath ghosted over her collarbone, sending Mira’s thoughts scattering like glass shattering on tile.
“I smell it too,” Rumi murmured, pulling back slightly, her brows drawn together in mild confusion. “It’s… really nice. Earthy. Different.”
“Thanks, I guess.” Mira mumbled, glancing away. Her thoughts were racing - what do you mean she smelled different? Was the artificial pheromones expired or something? She felt uneasy.
Zoey grinned, leaning in just a touch too close. “For what it’s worth? You smell amazing. ” She inhaled again. Rumi nodded, looking like she was trying to solve a puzzle that was put in front of her.
The elevator dinged, doors sliding open into the lobby - Mira’s salvation.
She strode out quickly, her long legs eating up the distance to the car and away from the girls, fingers rubbing furiously at her neck.
The ache was sharper now. Deeper.
And for the first time in over twenty years… something in her felt like it was about to snap awake.
By the time they reached the car, Mira’s neck felt like it was on fire.
She slid into the back seat, her fingers digging into her thighs as if grounding herself would somehow stop the creeping heat spreading through her veins. Zoey and Rumi were chatting easily next to her, Zoey’s laugh bright and loud as Rumi shook her head in that soft, fond way she always did when Zoey was being a menace.
Mira tried to focus on their voices, on anything but the rising ache twisting low in her stomach. She couldn’t even piece together what they were saying through all of the sensations she was starting to feel. She kept herself rigid and pressed against the car door, as far from Rumi as possible without looking like a maniac.
It wasn’t just the soreness in her neck anymore. Her skin felt too tight, hypersensitive - like every brush of fabric against her body was amplified. Her chest rose and fell faster, each inhale laced with so many faint smells at once she couldn’t differentiate what they were.
Her head spun. Scents? Since when?
She squeezed her eyes shut. No. No, this can’t be happening. My glands are gone. This isn’t possible. I can’t - I’ve never -
Her thoughts scattered as Rumi leaned over to say something to her, her braid falling over her shoulder. For one dizzying second, all Mira could think about was how good Rumi smelled - calming ocean waves, rain on fresh soil. Zoey laughed at something Rumi said, and Mira could smell her too - a fresh breeze, wild and carefree. It all hit her like a punch to the gut. Over and over. Her heart pounded. The heat coiled tighter, deeper, impossible to ignore. The recognition is starting to set in. The signs.
Oh god.
She gripped her knees hard enough to hurt, fighting to keep her breathing steady. She could feel the sweat starting to gather at the base of her neck, the place that had always been scentless, useless, empty.
But now…
Now it screamed, like something buried there for decades was clawing its way free.
“Mira, you good?” Rumi’s voice jolted her back to the present, warm but threaded with concern. It sounded like she was in a tunnel.
Mira forced a smile, the kind she’d practiced her whole life. “Peachy. Just tired. I had a hard time sleeping because of some friends of mine.” Rumi groaned and shook her head, flushing.
Zoey didn’t look convinced. “You sure? You’re kinda sweating. Or, like… flushed? It’s hard to tell. You’re a mix of both. I can feel your heat from here.”
“I said I’m fine,” Mira replied, sharper than she meant to. The word ‘heat’ felt weighted and it made Mira have a moment of panic.
The car went quiet for a beat too long.
Zoey shrugged and turned back to Rumi to show her more turtle Tiktoks. She was used to Mira getting snappy sometimes, and she always assumed it was close to her rut. Rumi glanced back at her, expression tinged with something Mira couldn’t name. Then she turned to watch the videos that her mate was showing her.
The rest of the ride blurred.
By the time they got to the studio, Mira’s skin felt electric. She opened her car door and was into the building as fast as her long legs could carry her. She made a beeline for her personal dressing room and closed the door. Every brush of movement sent tingles racing across her body.
She caught her reflection in the mirror - wide eyes, flushed cheeks, pupils blown just a little too wide. It was looking pretty obvious to Mira what was happening.
No. No, no, no -
She slammed the makeup table with her palms and bowed her head, breathing hard. Her neck ached, the presence of scent glands that aren’t there throbbing under her skin. The heat inside her coiled tighter, hot and insistent.
She was going into heat. For the first time in her life. Right here. Right now. Somehow.
No. No, no, no.
Her breaths came quicker, chest heaving as the heat pulsed low in her stomach, sharp and insistent. It was like her body had betrayed her all at once - twenty years of silence, and now it was screaming. She gripped the edge of her dressing room table so hard her knuckles ached. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She could smell them - Zoey and Rumi - even through the wall. Their scents curled around her, rich and overwhelming, and every instinct she’d spent her entire life without was coming back - slowly but surely.
You can’t let them know. You can’t. You’ll lose everything. They’ll lock you away.
Mira forced herself to straighten, locking her knees so they wouldn’t give out under her. She grabbed her water bottle, chugging the lukewarm liquid just to have something to do, anything to ground herself.
Her hands trembled so badly she nearly dropped it.
Through the thin wall, she could hear Zoey’s laugh, bright and sharp, like sunlight through glass. Rumi said something low, and Zoey’s laugh softened into that fond chuckle she only ever used for her. It made Mira’s chest ache in a different way. She dug her nails into her palms, sharp enough to sting. She needed pain - needed anything to focus on besides the way her body screamed at her to walk out there, to get close to her bandmates, to offer her neck and submit -
No. Never.
She was the perfect Alpha, and perfect Alphas didn’t fall apart just because their body decided to betray them. She was still an Alpha in everyone’s eyes. She needed to act like one. She splashed cold water on her face at the sink, the shock making her gasp. Her reflection looked terrifying, pupils blown so wide they barely showed any brown at all, face flushed and sweating. She could feel the heat radiating from her neck.
Calm down. You can control this. You’ve controlled everything else your entire life. This is no different. You just have to get through the day. Then you can spend your off week locked away in some random hotel away from the others. Just one day.
She practiced her masked smile in the mirror - too tight. Again. Too strained. Again. By the fifth try, she looked passable. Like she wasn’t burning up from the inside out. Professional, calm, bitchy. Just what people expected.
When she stepped out of her dressing room, Zoey and Rumi both turned toward her.
Zoey’s nose twitched - it was just a small twitch, but Mira caught it. Rumi tilted her head, brows furrowing ever so slightly. Mira felt her pulse spike.
“Ready to go?” she asked casually, her voice steady despite how dry her throat felt. She hoped they did not try to press any further.
Zoey nodded, “Let’s go get them tiger. I hope you don’t overwork yourself cause you really look like shit.” She looked over at Mira in concern as they started to walk to their recording studio. Rumi smiled softly during the exchange, but her eyes lingered on Mira a second too long, something unreadable in her gaze, just like she did in the car. Mira forced herself to smile slightly at the shorter girl, ignoring the way her skin felt too hot, too tight.
As they walked out together, Rumi’s shoulder brushed against hers - just barely, just enough that would have normally just made Mira catch her breath. This time, she flinched back. Both girls stopped and turned to look at her, concern clear in their eyes. Alarm bells were flaring in her mind. She couldn’t do this. Not with them.
“I gotta - bathroom -” Mira stumbled over her words, stepping backwards down the hall before spinning and all but running away from her bandmates, almost tripping over her long legs in the process. She didn’t miss the look of alarm from Zoey and hurt from Rumi. She wasn’t running because she wanted to. Because she had to. If she didn’t - if she let the mask slip for even a second - they’d see it all. Mira couldn’t let that happen.