Archive of Our Own ^beta

☽

At the end of a winding dirt road stood a pale-green wooden house, two stories tall, soft around the edges, worn in all the places that made it feel lived-in. The mailbox, stamped with Dream’s, was already stuffed with morning letters, and a freshly-presented omega was currently fishing them out.

Jisung gathered the mail with all the enthusiasm of someone picking up trash, then trudged toward the house.

Before returning to the house, he wandered off a little until the sharp winter air bit at his cheeks, and he shivered, startled by how cold it truly was outside the perfectly warm nest he’d left behind. He sneezed, hurried up the steps, and slipped inside.

Only to freeze when three pairs of stern, unamused eyes landed on him.

He shut the door very slowly.

“What did I say about resting?” Donghyuck demanded, hands planted on his hips, his scent spiking with pure annoyance.

“I—”

“You had a fever last night, and you went out without a jacket?” Jaemin pinched the bridge of his nose like he was physically in pain.

“Well—”

“Your body is still adjusting. Why did you think wandering around in the snow alone was a good idea?” Mark folded his arms, gaze firm and unquestionably alpha.

“But—”

“Why are we acting like Jisung is going to shatter if someone breathes too hard?” Chenle cut in, scowling as he stepped forward. 

Three wolves turned to him, equally incredulous. The youngest merely straightened beside Jisung, refusing to back down. 

“Yes, he presented yesterday. Yes, he had a fever. But he’s not a glass ornament. It was a five-minute walk. He picked up the mail. He’s fine.”

Jisung blinked at him, eyes widening slightly at the unexpected defense, Chenle looking stubborn, steady, and very much on his side.

“Baby alpha, listen, we’re just trying to—” Donghyuck was the first to step closer, lowering his shoulders in a calm, coaxing posture.

“I know, Hyung, but the pup needs to breathe,” Chenle countered, shooting Jisung a tiny, sympathetic smile.

Mark didn’t seem to hear either of them. He wrapped Chenle up in a hug, completely unfazed by the younger’s squirming. 

“Why are you so cute?” he sighed, already defeated.

Jisung laughed under his breath and politely held out the mail, looking like a well-behaved child.

Mark accepted it with a grin, right until he noticed Jaemin and Donghyuck staring at him like unimpressed parents.

“What?” he asked, already knowing.

Donghyuck lifted a brow. “You melt for the babies, love.”

Mark went pink and finally let Chenle go, and the baby alpha immediately stepped back with an offended huff.

“They were cute…” Mark muttered weakly.

Jaemin exhaled, resigned, and turned to Jisung. The pup straightened at lightning speed. 

“You’re not stepping out without a jacket again,” Jaemin said.

“Yes, Hyung,” Jisung answered immediately, ears practically perked.

The alpha then walked away, going to get ready for Jisung’s last check-up. 

“And you, educate your younglings! This cannot keep happening…” the older omega declared, tossing his hands in the air as he marched off.

Mark trailed behind him immediately, rushing to defend himself.

Left alone, Jisung glanced over just in time to see Chenle smoothing down his hair, still sticking up from Mark’s overenthusiastic affection. Jisung walked closer and waited until Chenle noticed him.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, and genuinely.

Chenle snorted and folded his arms like it was no big deal. “Only so you don’t start doing that sad-puppy thing again.”

Jisung lightly punched his arm, earning a laugh and a bright grin from the baby alpha. But then, something shifted. 

A different kind of warmth settled between them. Chenle was the one to look away first, clearing his throat.

“Look… Ji,” he started, voice softer than usual. “You’re my younger brother. The only one I’ve got. I know it wasn’t supposed to be that scary, but God, I was terrified yesterday.” His shoulders hunched, eyes down in embarrassment. “I tried to be strong, to make you laugh as a good hyung should. But I had this instinct, still do, to protect you from everything.”

Jisung blinked, caught off guard. He remembered what Donghyuck said about alphas being naturally driven to protect omegas. 

“I know it's weird. And it's not like I wasn't your partner in crime since we know each other, it's just… Feels different. And I want you to know that I'm still here for you. Even if I’m annoying and loud, I know, Jeno never lets me forget—”

He didn’t get to finish.

Jisung stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug, no hesitation at all. Chenle froze for a heartbeat before melting into it, hugging him back with the same fierce intensity. 

The two of them stood there quietly, warmth and familiar scent wrapping around them like a blanket.

“They’re so cute!” Mark whispered loudly, walking past them, using all his willpower not to squish them. 

Both youngsters chuckled, seeing the alpha disappear upstairs. 

“Hey, wanna play Mario Kart?” Chenle asked, grinning already, letting Jisung go.

“Oh, yeah!” 

And that’s how they ended up in Jisung’s room, once again a battlefield of textbooks, half-finished notes, and the unmistakable scent of end-of-semester panic, a little less intense than yesterday. Now this room also had the scents of the pack, and Jisung hoped it would keep them for a while. 

But video games were abandoned on the desk, long forgotten, ever since Jaemin caught the two of them trying to sneak into the pup’s room.

Jisung had tried everything: soft whining, sweet words, even his deadliest weapon… Wide puppy eyes. All he earned was a firm squish of his cheeks and a couple of playful pats to his backside. He tried to avoid them, but the love buttpats were still delivered.

“Nice try,” Jaemin had said, utterly unmoved.

Now the alpha healer knelt in front of him, hands gentle, voice softer still.

“Any pain if I press here?” he asked, fingertips ghosting over Jisung’s lower belly.

The pup shook his head, cheeks already warm from the closeness.

Across the room, Chenle sat on a floor cushion, arms crossed, watching like a bored chaperone. He was clearly waiting for Jaemin to finish manhandling his little brother so they could actually go back to their plans.

Jaemin hummed thoughtfully at the lack of pain, resting his warm palm there for a moment longer than strictly necessary. Protective instinct leaking through, as always. 

Doing medical check-ups and follow-ups was always a nuisance to do with six stubborn wolves who tried to be tough and ruthless. 

He had already checked the hypersensitivity Jisung experienced yesterday, but this had seemed to disappear after the pack enveloped the pup with their scents. Now Jaemin wanted to discard any physical pains or other affections.

He knew that usually omegas would experience cramps or pains near their lower belly, since their body needed to adapt and adjust to the new changes. 

“Good,” he murmured. “Your body’s still adjusting to the hormonal shift from presenting. I need to make sure nothing feels off.”

Jisung nodded, though he looked like he wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear. 

Mark had made sure Jisung was informed that after presenting his body would be facing different changes, and he lectured him about them. The pup at the time had been utterly shy about the talks.

Now he seemed extremely shy, too.

“I’m fine, Hyung,” he mumbled, ears warm. “Really. Perfectly fine.”

“Then stop squirming,” Jaemin said, tone maddeningly calm as he lifted Jisung’s wrist to check his pulse again. “Your heartbeat is faster today.”

“That’s because you’re hovering!” Jisung squeaked.

Chenle snorted loudly from the corner. “Yeah, Hyung, you’re hovering like a mother hen.”

Jaemin didn’t even bother looking at him. “And you’re still grounded for talking back to Mark.”

Chenle’s mouth snapped shut.

After Jaemin found them sneaking, he accused them with Mark, of “ignoring the healer’s orders.” Chenle had tried to speak his way out again, but Mark was intensely observed by Jaemin and couldn’t be defeated easily. Now the young alpha was grounded. He got to do the morning patrols for the rest of the week.

“Now,” Jaemin continued, talking back to his patient like nothing happened, “deep breath.”

Jisung obeyed, inhaling as Jaemin pressed the stethoscope to his chest. The cold metal made him flinch, and Jaemin clicked his tongue.

“You’re sensitive,” he murmured, adjusting the angle. “Expected.”

“I’m not sensitive…” Jisung whispered, voice cracking in betrayal.

Chenle cackled. “Sure you’re not.”

Jaemin shot him a warning look, then gently tilted Jisung’s chin up, examining the flush across his cheeks, the faint puffiness under his eyes.

“How’s your throat?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Your head?”

“Just… heavy,” Jisung admitted softly.

“Normal,” Jaemin said, brushing Jisung’s hair back. “Your senses are still heightened. It’ll settle with time.”

He shifted to check the glands along Jisung’s neck. The pup practically melted, shoulders drooping, a soft noise slipping out without permission.

Both Jaemin and Chenle froze.

Jisung slapped a hand over his own mouth, mortified.

“I didn’t make a sound,” he lied immediately.

“You absolutely did,” Chenle said, delighted.

Jaemin cleared his throat, his voice staying professional. “It’s normal. Overstimulation makes you vocal.”

“Please stop talking,” Jisung begged, face buried in his hands.

Jaemin only smiled, so helplessly fond, and gently moved on, checking joints, temperature, muscles.

“You’re healthy,” he finally declared, palms resting lightly on Jisung’s knees. “Stronger than last night. But you still need to pace yourself.”

Jisung peeked up hopefully. “So… can I go outside?”

“No,” Jaemin and Chenle said in unison.

Jisung groaned, flopping back dramatically on his bed.

Jaemin stood, ruffling his hair. “Nice try, pup. I said healthy, not invincible.”

Chenle added, “And the full moon’s tonight. You’re not leaving this house without an escort. Or at least without me.”

Jisung sat up, pout forming. “You guys are the worst.”

But Jaemin only smiled, and his scent warmed like pride and relief.

“That’s fine,” he said softly. “As long as you’re safe.”

The pup tried to play it cool, but it only took a single look at Jaemin fussing over his things for Jisung’s cheeks to warm like they always did. He tried to angle his face away, but Chenle caught the pink dusting his skin and let out a sigh so fond it was practically illegal.

“Come on, blushing disaster,” Chenle grumbled, hooking his fingers into Jisung’s sleeve and dragging him toward the console. 

Behind them, Jaemin slipped out with the quiet efficiency of someone who knew exactly where all his herbs and instruments belonged. 

Healer mode was over for now.

☽

Once the screen lit up and the familiar music was filling the room, Jisung felt something inside him loosen. They fell into their usual rhythm: trash talk, childish bickering, shared bursts of laughter. Every time Chenle launched a blue shell at him, Jisung let out a wounded squawk that dissolved into giggles. For a while, it felt like everything was normal.

Like his body wasn’t still humming strangely beneath his skin.

Like the full moon wasn’t hanging over him, waiting.

Like he wasn’t supposed to be nervous at all.

He clung to that feeling of freedom, the way laughter pushed back the tightness in his chest. The way Chenle didn’t treat him differently. Not as an omega, not as something fragile, just as his annoying younger brother who deserved a thousand blue shells to the face.

For those moments, Jisung almost believed it. That nothing had changed. That he could stay like this forever, light, unbothered, just a pup surrounded by warmth and noise.

But the illusion cracked the moment a shiver crawled over his skin, unprompted. The game blurred for a second, an odd pull beating in his ribcage like a second heartbeat. Something instinctive. Something old.

Chenle nudged him. “Yo, you good?”

Jisung forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.”

But inside, he felt the shift. A reminder that he wasn’t the same wolf he’d been yesterday. A reminder that whatever waited for him under the moon tonight… 

He had no idea if he was ready.

“Kids, come downstairs!”

Jisung stopped the game, and the calm was enough to appreciate the soft, warm scents drifting from downstairs. The pack was settling. Gathering.

Waiting.

Chenle nudged him with a knee. “Come on. They’re probably ready to start the ‘Full Moon Emergency Meeting.’”

Jisung blinked. “The what?”

Chenle rolled his eyes, but there was a soft smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. 

“Full moon prep. Emergency puppy protocol. Jisung, don't climb that tree. Whatever they’re calling it.”

Jisung groaned. “Why does it sound like a school parent conference?”

“Because you’re the problem child,” Chenle pointed out cheerfully, tugging him up from the puff.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

They headed downstairs, the familiar creaks of the wooden steps echoing under their feet. As soon as they reached the living room, every head turned.

The living room felt unusually full. 

Mark stood near the fireplace, arms crossed as he tried, and failed, to look authoritative. Donghyuck stood near him, already annoyed at nothing. Renjun was leaning on the armchair, composed but sharp-eyed. Jeno was sitting on the rug, posture relaxed but gaze alert. Jaemin hovered near the couch, gaze tracking Jisung the moment he stepped inside. 

Chenle sat next to Jeno, naturally following him. And Jaemin tugged Jisung by the wrist until the pup sat down on the couch, exactly where the alpha wanted him.

“Okay,” Mark began, clapping his hands once. “We need to discuss tonight.”

Jisung sank into the couch, cheeks warming. “It’s not that serious—”

“It is,” Jaemin cut in, voice gentle but firm. “Your first full moon as an omega is unpredictable. We want you safe.”

Donghyuck nodded. “And we want the transition to be as comfortable as possible. We’re not letting you go through this alone.”

“So,” Mark took the word again, “we need a plan.”

Donghyuck raised a hand. “Step one: Jisung does not leave my sight.”

Jaemin shot him a glare. “He’s staying with me.”

“Over my dead body,” Donghyuck fired back.

Renjun huffed. “Neither of you gets to monopolize him. He needs all of us.”

Jisung’s ears burned. “I—I’m right here, you know.”

“We’re aware,” six voices replied at once.

Mark cleared his throat, eyes settling on the youngest with unshakeable calm. “Jisung, listen. The first full moon after presenting… It hits hard. You might feel disoriented, or restless, or overwhelmed.”

Jisung swallowed.

“We’re not telling you this to scare you,” Renjun added gently. “Just so you don’t blame yourself if something feels too intense.”

Donghyuck leaned forward. “If you panic, howl. If you need grounding, seek one of us. If you get lost, we’ll track you. If you can’t shift back, we’ll wait until you do.”

Jisung blinked. “You’re making it sound like I’m a grenade.”

Chenle shrugged. “Well… you kinda are.”

“Chenle,” Mark warned.

“What? He is!”

After Jeno flicked the younger alpha on the forehead, Mark lifted a physical list. 

A color-coded one.

Jisung stared in horror. “Hyung… is that—”

“A plan,” Mark said proudly.

Renjun sighed. “Mark made a schedule.”

“Because I care,” Mark defended.

Renjun whispered to Donghyuck, “He spent all morning on it.”

“I heard that,” Mark said sharply.

Mark had been their alpha leader since the seven of them became a pack. At the time, he was young and inexperienced, but he was also the most dedicated person they knew. Often, the oldest would overthink the plans for his pack and discuss with Renjun matters that didn't even need discussion yet. Donghyuck was the one to calm him down and regulate Mark's moods. 

But now, the alpha was totally determined to help their youngest pup have the best experience ever. 

“Let’s focus.” Jaemin changed his posture, looking concentrated. “We know Jisung’s wolf is playful, curious… And a little chaotic.”

Jisung pouted at him.

“A cute chaotic,” Jaemin corrected instantly. 

Jisung knew that. Wolf cubs were naturally playful and curious, and were often kept near a den until they were mature enough to explore with the adults. Jisung was no longer just a tiny cub, but his wolf was still just a pup. 

A small, easily distracted, and overly curious wolf pup. 

But the pack had known how to manage him before, and Jisung wasn't one to look for trouble often. At least not without Chenle. 

He wanted to be more mature and collected, like his hyungs. Jisung crossed his arms, cheeks puffed like an offended cub. 

“I’ll behave.”

Jaemin let out a soft breath, the kind that sounded half relieved and half terrified. 

“I know you will. But you’re still new to your instincts. Your wolf might act on its own.”

Jeno nodded. “He might shift earlier than expected. Pup’s wolf is impulsive.”

“I’m not impulsive,” Jisung muttered.

“You tried to chase a flashlight beam last week,” Jeno reminded him.

Jisung looked away, cheeks blushing. “That was different.”

Jeno chuckled. 

“So we need a safe environment,” Donghyuck said. 

“We also need to pair him with someone calm. If he gets anxious, he mirrors moods easily,” Renjun suggested. 

All eyes moved to Jaemin.

Jaemin blinked. “What?”

Chenle snorted. “You’re literally the only one he doesn’t freak out with.”

“That’s not true,” Jisung protested weakly.

Mark gave him a look. “Pup, your wolf practically climbs Jaemin like a tree.”

Jisung wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

Jaemin coughed into his fist, trying to play it cool, and failing miserably. “Well… I don’t mind staying with him.”

“Of course you don’t,” Donghyuck muttered.

“Shut up,” Jaemin muttered back.

Renjun raised a hand. “Focus. We also need boundaries. Rules.”

Jeno nodded. “And a safe word.”

Jisung groaned again. “Hyungs!”

Mark ignored him. “If the pup gets overwhelmed, he howls. Once for stressed, twice for scared, three times for lost.”

Renjun frowned. “He is not a car alarm.”

“It’s just a guideline!”

Donghyuck clapped once, loud. “Okay! Final plan: we shift near the river clearing. It’s open, safe, and familiar. Jisung stays in the center with Jaemin. We circle around them to keep watch.”

Jisung’s heart warmed despite the embarrassment. Surrounded. Protected. 

Chosen.

Jisung fiddled with his sleeves. “…So what do I do?”

Mark’s expression softened the way it only did for his youngest wolves. “You stay close. You howl when the moon feels too loud. And you don’t run off alone.”

Donghyuck leaned in, nose scrunching. “You hear that? Don’t run.”

Jaemin’s hand found the small of Jisung’s back, warm and grounding. “We’ll shift together. All of us. You’ll be surrounded.”

The pup swallowed hard, eyes darting to each pack member, faces steady, determined, ready for whatever came.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Good,” Mark said with a small nod. “After he shifts and we see how he reacts, we can continue with our usual wolf pack routine.”

“Can we hunt a deer? I promise this time not to jump ahead of you,” Chenle begged, trying his best to make puppy eyes at Mark. 

The oldest one folded quickly. 

“Sure, kid,” he smiled, and Donghyuck rolled his eyes. Chenle grinned proudly. “Then it's settled.”

The room hummed, instinct, worry, anticipation, leaking into the air.

Tonight, the moon would rise heavy and bright. And their pup, their youngest one, would stand beneath it for the very first time as an omega.

Everything was about to change. The pack could feel it. Jisung could feel it.

And none of them would face it alone.

☽

The moment he had the chance, Jisung slipped away and padded quietly up the stairs, retreating into the familiar safety of his room. 

He climbed onto his bed with slow, heavy movements, tugging his mountain of blankets and quilts over himself until only a puff of white curls peeked out. The fabric was saturated with the pack’s lingering scents, warm pine, soft spice, the faint herbal fragrance that clung to Jaemin’s clothes. He burrowed into them instinctively, searching for the comfort they always gave him.

His curls tumbled messily over his forehead, cheeks squished against the pillow until they turned pink. Tucked beneath all those layers, he looked impossibly small. 

Soft, even. Like a pup trying to disappear under his own fluff. 

Full moons had never scared him before.

He’d always trusted his pack, trusted them to keep him safe from the world and from himself. 

When his wolf got the zoomies and he would bolt across the clearing with no sense of direction, someone was always there to scoop him up before he launched himself into a bush. When curiosity tugged him toward things he shouldn’t sniff, chew, or headbutt, gentle snouts would redirect him, rumbling while they did.

They never made him feel silly for it.

Never made him feel like anything but their happy, excitable youngest wolf cub. 

But now… Everything was different. And the full moon, once just another night to run and play, felt like a looming, unfamiliar beast crouched outside his window.

He just wanted it to be the same as before. 

Mark would always be at the front, the steady heartbeat of the pack. As their leading wolf, he guided every run, every shift, every breath, but no matter how far ahead he moved, he never let Jisung’s scent slip from the edges of his awareness. The pup was his constant checkpoint, the quiet reminder that he wasn’t just leading a pack… He was protecting a family. His family. 

Donghyuck would stay close, always drifting to Jisung’s side without needing to be asked. In every formation, they were the warm center; shielded, surrounded, never exposed. Donghyuck could be strict, yes, but with Jisung he softened almost unconsciously. He slowed down when the pup lagged, nudged him gently when he looked uncertain, even played with him when his wolf got too restless to behave. Sometimes he would treat Jisung as if he was his pup. His own pup. 

Jeno would be the silent guard in the shadows. Alert, ears twitching at the slightest sound, nose lifting at every unfamiliar scent. He watched the tree line, the wind, the ground beneath them, everything that Jisung didn’t think to watch. He would fight off any threat without hesitation, no matter how big or bold, if it meant the youngest of the pack could explore freely, wandering with that reckless curiosity only pups possessed. 

Renjun usually kept to the outskirts, resting on high ground or curled beneath a tree, where he could watch everything without being seen. He was sharp, sharper than he ever let on. The smallest shift in the wind or crunch of leaves, and he’d be alert, ready to signal Mark with a clear, ringing howl. As second-in-command, vigilance was part of him. Protecting the pack wasn’t just a role; it was instinct, woven into every breath he took. 

Chenle, on the other hand, was Jisung’s natural partner in chaos. He loved to sniff through bushes, track scents just for the fun of it, and hunt anything that moved faster than a leaf in the wind. He knew their territory nearly as well as Mark, every shortcut, every hidden path, every burrow and stream. And when the pack allowed it, he’d join Jisung in tag, darting between trees with bright eyes and snapping teeth. They’d team up, nipping at their hyungs’ legs or leaping onto their backs, demanding attention, play, or just a chase to burn the overflowing energy in their small bodies. 

Often he would also get in trouble, getting pinned down by Jeno and dragged back to the pack's resting group. 

And then there was Jaemin. 

Jisung’s unofficial, unshakable, shadow. His designated bodyguard long before either of them ever named it. Jaemin watched over him with a quiet kind of vigilance, patient and steady, letting the pup explore and tumble and sniff to his heart’s content. 

Until Jisung inevitably crossed a line.

Because sometimes, Jisung didn’t recognize boundaries. Sometimes he didn’t listen when the others told him to stop, or slow down, or don’t chew that. Sometimes his pup brain simply refused to cooperate.

And that was when Jaemin intervened.

His black wolf was larger, older, infinitely calmer. When Jisung got too reckless, too wild, too determined to cause chaos, Jaemin would pin him down, gently but firmly, blanketing the pup beneath his heavier body until the little menace stilled. Or even bit him on the scruff until the pup surrendered into submission. 

Jisung wasn’t exactly proud of how often that had happened. Or of how natural it felt that Jaemin was always the one who could bring him back under control. 

Even though they were a bit chaotic, the pack's bond was strong. 

And when they all gathered to rest, it was so peaceful. 

Mark would nudge and sniff at Donghyuck in quiet reassurance. Renjun often dozed off with Jeno close by, their breathing syncing in that instinctive way only wolves managed. Chenle always ended up curled against Jeno, happily chewing at his ears while the older alpha tolerated him with long-suffering patience.

And Jaemin…

Jaemin made sure Jisung behaved no matter what. If the pup wandered too far or pretended not to hear, Jaemin would simply scoop him up or drag him back to the center of the group, no hesitation, no mercy. Then he’d groom him, long slow strokes of affection and discipline woven together.

And something in Jisung always, always melted instantly under that touch. Like his wolf recognized the presence meant to guide him. Like Jaemin only had to release his grounding scent on him for the world to quiet.

Jisung had always loved when the pack shifted.

Everything felt warmer then, safer and softer, like the whole world narrowed into familiar scents and steady heartbeats. In their wolf forms, nothing was complicated. He was just the pup, tucked in the middle, protected from every angle.

He wanted that feeling again tonight. He wanted it to be the same.

But deep down, he already knew it wouldn’t be.

He let out a small sigh, the kind that sagged out of his chest more than his lungs. Donghyuck had been painfully direct earlier: things were different now. He was an omega. He had a role, instincts he didn’t fully understand yet.

And still… He couldn’t stop wondering.

Was he really meant for it?

Was this new part of him something natural, or something that had simply landed on him, uninvited and confusing?

He curled tighter under his blankets, the question twisting uneasily in his chest. 

Without meaning to, Jisung’s scent wavered, sharp with insecurity, tinged with something small and shaken. He tried to reel it back, tried not to tumble headfirst into those spiraling thoughts, but they were already crowding his chest.

Then came a soft knock on the door.

His heart lurched. Perfect. Just what he needed, someone catching him while he was degrading himself in his own head.

“Jisunggie?”

Of course it was Jaemin. Because the universe clearly hated him.

“Can I come in?” 

“O–One second!”

He scrambled out of bed, desperate to look normal before the alpha stepped inside. But his legs tangled in the blankets, and seconds later—

THUMP.

Jisung hit the floor with all the grace of a baby deer. 

He groaned. Loudly.

The door flew open, and Jaemin practically launched himself inside.

“Pup?” Jaemin froze at the scene, eyes wide with concern. He set down the wooden tray he’d been carrying, with a steaming mug, before rushing over. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Jisung, facedown on the floor like a tragic pancake, attempted dignity. He pushed himself up enough to look at the other. 

“I—uh—this is a new exercise,” he blurted, secretly flailing to untangle his limbs. “It’s for… Arm strength.”

Jaemin stared. Slowly. Blankly. Then raised a single unimpressed brow.

“Is that so?”

Before Jisung could continue with his nonsense, Jaemin placed one firm hand between his shoulder blades and pressed. Not harshly, just enough to test him.

Jisung resisted. For about two seconds.

Then his arms wobbled, betrayed him completely, and he collapsed back onto the floor with a pathetic sound that was definitely not a whimper.

Jaemin hummed smugly. “Hmm. I don’t see much improvement.”

Jisung tried again, mortified, pushing up with all the strength his noodle arms could muster. Jaemin didn’t even have to increase pressure. The pup gave out instantly.

And Jaemin saw it, and saw the exact moment Jisung admitted defeat. The alpha’s smirk was unfairly soft and unbearably fond.

Jisung lay there, forehead pressed to the cool floorboards as Jaemin’s shadow hovered over him. 

He didn’t want comfort. He didn’t want concern. He wanted… Actually, he didn’t even know what he wanted. Everything in his chest felt tangled.

Jaemin’s hand slid from his back to his shoulder, gentler now.

“Hey,” he murmured, the sharp worry fading into something softer. “You’re shaking.”

Jisung scoffed, or tried to. It came out thin. 

“Floor’s cold.”

“And your scent’s a mess,” Jaemin added quietly, not accusing, just stating a fact.

That made Jisung stiffen. His breath stuttered. He tried to swallow the insecurity clawing up his throat.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

“Mm,” Jaemin hummed, clearly not buying it. He didn’t push harder; he never did. 

The alpha slowly slipped his hands under Jisung to carry him back into the bed, the pup blushed a bit but thanked the gesture with a nod. Then Jaemin retrieved the tray from the floor and set it on the nightstand.

“I brought ginger honey tea,” he said. “Donghyuck thought it would help settle nerves.”

“I’m not nervous,” Jisung muttered.

“You tripped over your own feet and tried to blame it on arm exercises.”

“…Okay, maaaaybe I'm a little nervous.”

Jaemin didn’t laugh. He only took the mug and nudged it into Jisung’s hands.

“Drink.”

Jisung obeyed because, well, it was Jaemin. Warm steam hit his face, soothing and sweet. They sat in silence for a moment.

Then Jaemin spoke, voice low. “You know… You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Jisung stared at the mug. His fingers tightened around it. The words poked at everything he’d been trying to ignore.

“I just…” he started, then stopped, the insecurity clogging his throat again. “It’s stupid.”

“Pup,” Jaemin said gently, leaning just slightly closer. “If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.”

Jisung’s ears burned. His chest squeezed.

“It’s just that… I’ve never had a role before. I’ve always just been the pup, the wolf cub. That was my job in the pack.” Jisung swallowed, shoulders curling inward. “But now I’ll have real responsibilities… Ones that matter. And they don’t just affect me; they affect the pack. They affect you.” 

He finally looked up, insecurity shining in his eyes, and Jaemin’s chest tightened. 

“I-I don’t want to mess up,” Jisung whispered. “I don’t want to fail you. I want to be good. I really do.”

Jaemin shifted closer and eased an arm around him, pulling him gently against his side. His scent softened, turning warm and steady, grounding and soothing, wrapping around Jisung like a weighted blanket. 

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be,” he whispered, voice filled with vulnerability. “Or what I’m supposed to do. I feel like… like I’m not enough for whatever everyone thinks I am now.”

The confession hung in the air, fragile as a new breath.

“Listen to me,” Jaemin murmured. “You don’t need to be anything.”

Jisung blinked, startled. He looked at him; those blue eyes seemed so kind. 

“You don’t need to perform a role. Or act a certain way. Or live up to some expectation.” Jaemin’s thumb brushed his cheekbone. “You’re still you. You’re still our pup. That hasn’t changed.”

Jisung’s throat tightened. “But—”

“But nothing,” Jaemin said gently. “Being an omega doesn’t replace who you were. It just adds to it. It’s not a duty you have to fulfill. It’s a part of you that we protect, not something you need to work for.”

He leaned in slightly, pressing his forehead to Jisung’s.

“You don’t need to understand everything now,” he whispered. “Your role isn’t something you earn. It’s something you grow into. With time. With us. ”

Jisung’s breath hitched.

“You’re not behind,” Jaemin continued. “You’re not failing. You’re not disappointing anyone. You’re learning. And we’re here. Every step.”

Something in Jisung’s chest cracked open, quiet, painful, relieving.

His voice came out small. “Even if I mess up?”

“Especially if you mess up.” Jaemin smiled, soft and unbearably kind. “You don’t have to be ready,” he murmured. “You just have to be with us.”

Jisung didn’t trust his voice, so he set down his mug and buried himself in Jaemin’s chest instead. Jaemin’s arms wrapped around him instantly, secure and warm, his scent wrapping around Jisung like a blanket.

And for the first time since he’d woken up changed, Jisung felt something close to safe.

Something close to understood.

Something close to home. 

Jaemin’s scent was grounding, warm, steady, and impossibly comforting. Jisung melted into his arms without even trying, his body responding instinctively. He nuzzled into Jaemin’s chest, wanting to be covered in that scent, wanting to feel owned in the soft, safe way Jaemin always gave him.

“Hyung…?” Jisung whispered, voice thin and sleepy.

Jaemin hummed, his hands moving slowly over his back.

“You smell… so good,” Jisung admitted before he could stop himself. 

He felt Jaemin freeze, just for a second, before the alpha’s scent deepened, blooming around them. Fresh mint mixed with soft herbs enveloping him completely.

Jisung melted instantly, going boneless against Jaemin’s chest.

He didn’t even notice when he drifted off.

Jaemin adjusted him carefully, dragging him closer until Jisung’s upper body was resting comfortably against him. His hands never stopped moving, slow, delicate strokes like he was afraid Jisung would break if he pressed too hard.

Jaemin didn’t sleep. He just watched over him, waiting patiently. Jisung always needed only a few minutes.

“You’re so precious to me,” he whispered into Jisung’s hair and pressed a quiet kiss to his head.

When Jisung finally blinked awake, he felt unexpectedly light. Clear. Like the talk, the scenting, and Jaemin’s steady presence had rinsed out all the doubt he’d been drowning in.

Then came the scolding.

“You should’ve drunk the tea while it was still warm,” Jaemin chided, though his voice was soft.

“I—I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you…” Jisung mumbled, avoiding eye contact as his ears flushed red.

“That’s funny,” Jaemin teased. “Because a few minutes ago you were curled up on me like I was your personal pillow.”

He punctuated it by poking Jisung’s burning cheek.

“Hyuuung!” Jisung whined, mortified.

Jaemin laughed, stood, and picked up the tray. When he stepped toward the door, Jisung sat up too fast.

“W-Where are you going?” he asked, trying, and failing, not to sound clingy.

Jaemin turned with a knowing smile. “To warm this up for you.”

“Oh.” Jisung stared at his hands. “Thanks, Hyung…”

Jaemin paused, fighting back a grin. He failed.

“Don’t cry, I’ll be right back,” he teased.

The door closed behind him, leaving a very embarrassed pup groaning into his pillow in shame.

Jisung stayed there for a moment, face buried in his hands, ears burning so hot he was sure Jaemin could smell them from the kitchen.

Why did he always act like that around him? Why did Jaemin always see right through him? Why did being teased by that stupid black wolf feel like being gently petted instead of mocked?

He groaned and flopped back on the bed, kicking his feet once like an upset cub.

But the moment Jaemin’s footsteps approached again, Jisung shot upright so fast he got dizzy.

The door opened softly.

Jaemin stepped inside with the tray again, steam floating from the mug.

“Alright,” the alpha said, tone warm but firm. “No excuses this time. Drink it while it’s hot.”

Jisung accepted the cup, fingers brushing Jaemin’s. His stomach flipped embarrassingly hard.

He took a sip. Hot. Sweet. Calming.

Jaemin watched him like one would watch a skittish pup, patient, amused, fond.

After a moment of silence, Jisung asked quietly,

“Did the others… hear me fall?”

Jaemin sat beside him on the bed, close enough to touch but not quite pressing against him.

“Only Renjun. And he already thinks you’re made of noodles, so nothing new there.”

Jisung groaned again.

But Jaemin’s voice softened.

“Hey. They’re not judging you.”

A beat.

“No one will ever judge you for adjusting.”

Jisung swallowed, eyes dropping to the mug.

“What if I never get it right…? Being omega. Being… me.”

“You will,” Jaemin said instantly. No hesitation. No doubt.

“Because you learn fast. Because you never quit. And because you’re not alone, pup. You have us. You have me.”

Jisung’s throat tightened.

Jaemin reached out, slowly, giving him time to pull away, and gently took the mug from his hands, placing it on the nightstand.

Then he cupped Jisung’s cheeks, thumbs brushing the warm apples of them.

“You’re doing so well already,” he murmured.

Jisung didn’t look away this time.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t hide.

He leaned into Jaemin’s palms, small and soft and wanting.

“Can… Can you stay for a bit?” he whispered. “Just while I finish the tea.”

Jaemin’s expression softened into something devastatingly gentle.

“Of course I can.”

He shifted onto the bed beside him, letting Jisung curl instinctively into his side. The pup drank, slow and warm, while Jaemin rested a steady hand on his back, anchoring him with every pass of his palm.

Jisung felt his heartbeat settle.

His scent loosen.

His nerves unwind one by one.

“Hyung?” he whispered after a while.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming earlier. And for… not laughing at me.”

Jaemin pressed his nose into Jisung’s hair, scenting him gently.

“I’d never laugh at you,” he murmured. “I’d only protect you.”

Jisung’s chest melted entirely.

And for the first time that day, he believed him.

☽

They stayed like that for a while. Jisung tucked safely against Jaemin’s side, sipping his tea in small, shy gulps, while Jaemin’s hand idly stroked circles into his back.

It was quiet, soft, grounding.

Which, of course, meant it couldn’t last.

A knock sounded at the door.

Jisung tensed immediately, instinct making him try to sit up straighter, hiding the fact that he was practically curled on Jaemin like a baby wolf.

Jaemin’s hand pressed gently between his shoulder blades.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

The door opened, and Mark stepped in.

The alpha leader’s gaze took in the scene instantly. Jaemin sitting casually on the bed, Jisung leaning into him, the half-finished tea on the nightstand.

Mark’s expression softened, all alpha seriousness replaced with something warmer.

“Hey, pup,” he said gently.

Jisung froze for a second, then mumbled, “H-Hi, Hyung,” into Jaemin’s shoulder.

Jaemin gave Mark a slow, knowing nod before standing up.

“I’ll go check on the others. Don’t steal his tea.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark said.

Jaemin ruffled Jisung’s hair once softly, reassuringly, a quiet I’m still here, and slipped out.

The room felt bigger without him.

Too big.

Mark sat where Jaemin had been, but he kept a bit more distance, giving Jisung space to breathe.

“You okay?” he asked.

Jisung fiddled with the rim of his mug. “…Yeah.”

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

The pup puffed out his cheeks.

Mark chuckled. “You know, you’ve done that since you were tiny. Made that same face whenever you were overwhelmed.”

“I’m not overwhelmed,” Jisung muttered.

“You sure?” Mark’s voice stayed soft. “Because it’s okay if you are.”

That punched right into his chest.

Jisung’s eyes dropped. He left the mug on the nightstand. 

“I just… I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted, voice trembling at the edges. “Everything feels weird. My body, my scent, the way everyone looks at me. Even the moon feels different.”

Mark nodded slowly.

“Yeah. It is different. And it’s big. And it’s a lot.” His voice turned steady, grounding. “But you’re not doing it alone, Sungie. We’re all here with you.”

Jisung swallowed. His eyes stung.

“What if… What if I mess something up? What if my instincts make me do something stupid?”

Mark snorted softly. “Pup, you’ve done stupid things since the day we met you. If that ever made us love you less, we would’ve ditched you years ago.”

Jisung let out a tiny, embarrassed laugh.

Mark reached over and rubbed the back of his neck gently, the way he always did when Jisung was anxious as a cub.

“You’re omega now,” Mark said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re losing who you were. It just means your wolf grew up a little.”

“Feels like I’m turning into someone else.”

“You’re not,” Mark said instantly. “You’re still the pup who eats half the snacks Chenle hides. You’re still the pup who gets lost following fireflies. You’re still our Jisung.”

A small pause.

“And you’re allowed to grow.”

Jisung bit his lip.

“…You really think I won’t mess everything up?”

Mark shrugged. “Oh, you will. Absolutely. But guess what?”

Jisung blinked.

“We’ll clean up after you. That’s what a pack is.”

Jisung’s throat tightened, warmth pooling in his chest.

Mark stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, looking at Jisung with a kind of tenderness that made the pup shift uncomfortably under the attention, too warm, too knowing.

“You know…” Mark began, voice softer than before, “I still remember the first full moon you spent with us.”

Jisung blinked. “You do?”

“Of course I do.” Mark huffed a laugh. “You were so tiny. You kept tripping over your own legs every time you tried to run.”

Jisung groaned into his hands. “Hyung, please don’t—”

“Oh, no. I’m going to,” Mark insisted, laughing. “You were this little white fluff ball, all ears and no coordination. You kept yapping at fireflies, real wolves don’t do that, by the way, and then crying when they flew away too fast.”

Jisung felt his ears burning. “I was a baby.”

“You were our baby.” Mark’s voice softened again, nostalgia pulling the corners of his mouth into a gentle smile. “You’d fall asleep on Donghyuck’s tail every time. And when you got scared? You’d run and hide under my belly like it was a cave.”

Jisung stared down at his hands, cheeks pink, chest warm.

Those memories… He remembered them, too.

Vaguely. Softly.

Like a dream.

“I thought you’d stay small forever,” Mark admitted with a sigh. “Thought you’d always be the pup we had to chase when he wandered off or pick up when he got tired.”

“…sorry,” Jisung mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t be.” Mark chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I loved that. I still do.”

Jisung’s lips parted in surprise.

“But now,” Mark continued, leaning back slightly so he could really look at him, “you’re growing up. You’re figuring out your wolf. Your role. Yourself. And I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t make me feel…” He searched for the word. “…old.”

Jisung let out a surprised laugh, nearly choking on air. “Hyung—!”

“I’m serious!” Mark insisted dramatically. “If one day you get taller than me, then I’ll really have a crisis.”

Jisung laughed harder, shoulders shaking.

Mark watched him with soft eyes.

“It’s just… Change is weird. Even good change.” His voice dropped to something smaller. “But I’m proud of you, pup. So proud.”

Jisung’s laughter faded into silence.

Proud?

Of… him?

His chest tightened painfully, and something warm rose to his throat.

“Hyung…” he whispered, voice cracking without warning. “Really?”

Mark nudged him gently with his shoulder. “Yeah. Really.”

Jisung tried to blink away the sting in his eyes, but the tears still welled, big, round, traitorous.

And Mark noticed.

Immediately.

“Oh, hey, hey, no,” Mark hurried, pulling Jisung into his chest. “Don’t cry, you know it kills me when you cry—”

“I’m not crying,” Jisung sniffed.

“You’re literally crying on my shirt.”

“N-No, I’m not—”

Mark’s hand cupped the back of Jisung’s head, holding him steady as the pup hid his face in the alpha’s chest, overwhelmed, embarrassed, relieved.

He felt Mark’s heartbeat under his cheek.

Steady. Familiar. Safe.

“You’re growing up,” Mark murmured into his hair. “But you’ll always be my pup. That doesn’t change.”

Jisung’s fingers curled into Mark’s shirt.

“…Hyung?”

“Mm?”

“Please don’t let go yet.”

Mark tightened his arms around him, protective and warm.

“Never,” he whispered. “Not unless you tell me to.”

And Jisung, clinging to the alpha leader with shaking hands and a full heart, whispered back. 

“I won’t.”

It was so comforting, and Jisung, for a heartbeat, really wished he could always be their pup. Make them happy and laugh at his childish behavior. 

The thought made him even more emotional. 

Jisung stayed tucked into Mark’s chest for a long moment, breathing in the familiar warmth, grounding himself in it. The tears slowed, his heartbeat easing into a steadier rhythm.

Maybe it was Mark’s scent, maybe it was the soft rumble of his voice, or maybe it was just the safety of being held, but something tugged at old memories.

Distant. Faded.

But still deeply, painfully precious.

“…Hyung?” Jisung whispered, voice muffled against Mark’s shirt.

“Yeah?”

“I remember when I first met you,” Jisung murmured. “You and Donghyuck.”

Mark stilled, his smile gentle. “You do?”

Jisung nodded, pulling back just enough to look down at his own hands.

“I was… so small,” he admitted shyly. “Smaller than everyone. I didn’t even know how to shift well yet. My wolf was all fur and legs and fear.”

Mark huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, you were tiny.”

“And you scared me.”

Mark blinked. “I— what?”

“You were so tall!” Jisung defended immediately. “And loud! And the first thing you did was sniff me and say ‘this one is ours.’”

Mark covered his face with both hands. “Oh my god—”

“And Donghyuck grabbed me by the scruff like I was a kitten,” Jisung continued, lips pulling into a small smile. “He wouldn’t even let me walk. Just carried me around all day.”

“That sounds like him,” Mark muttered through his fingers.

Jisung giggled softly, the memory warming him from the inside out.

He had been the very first official member of the Dream Pack. Mark and Donghyuck’s brand-new little family unit.

The two wolves had just mated, full of plans and stubborn love, determined to build a home that was truly theirs. They were only eighteen at the time but because both came from the prestigious Lee Pack, they had the power and the territory to make it happen.

Their families had gone absolutely overboard with excitement. Walls were knocked down, and budgets… ignored.

Donghyuck had a list of demands the length of a novel, and the elders indulged every single one of them. The house ended up huge, warm, and ready for a future pack.

And then came the day they went to meet the little lone wolf searching for somewhere to belong.

They found Jisung.

The tiniest.

The softest.

The most painfully adorable cub they had ever seen.

He remembered shaking in his too-neat clothes, trying so hard to look composed and mature. He bowed too quickly, stumbled over his own feet, and blurted out his greeting too loud. And then, right in the middle of his attempt to act cool, he’d gotten scared when Mark stepped forward too fast, squeaking and hiding behind his sleeves.

It was over right then.

Mark fell in love on the spot.

Donghyuck declared him theirs within the hour.

And Jisung… 

Jisung had never been the same since.

“When you two brought me home… I thought you were going to eat me.”

Mark stared. “Eat you?!”

“You had sharp teeth!” Jisung insisted.

“You’re a wolf!”

“I was a baby wolf!”

Mark threw his head back, laughing helplessly, and Jisung hid his face again, smiling against the alpha’s chest.

“But…” Jisung whispered after a long moment, voice growing smaller, softer. “Even though I was scared… I remember feeling safe, too.”

Mark quieted, his hand returning to Jisung’s hair, stroking slowly and warmly.

“You held me so gently,” Jisung said. “And Donghyuck kept me tucked under him so nothing could touch me. I’d never been protected like that before.”

Mark’s movements paused, just for a heartbeat. Then he leaned his forehead against the top of Jisung’s head.

“I’m glad,” he murmured quietly. “I’m glad we were good to you.”

“You were,” Jisung whispered. “You still are.”

Mark swallowed. Something thick and emotional in his throat.

“And now you’re almost twenty,” he said, voice cracking with disbelief. “Ten years. Ten whole years.”

Jisung blinked, looking up in surprise as Mark cupped his cheek gently.

“I watched you learn to shift,” Mark murmured. “Watched you lose your last tooth. Watched you chirp for Donghyuck every time you wanted attention. Watched you get taller. Watched you become who you are now.”

Jisung’s heart squeezed painfully.

“And now,” Mark said, brushing his thumb across Jisung’s cheek, “I get to watch you grow into your role, your real one. Not because you have to. Not because we expect something complicated from you. But because it’s who you’re meant to be.”

Jisung felt tears gathering again, fresh, hot, and overwhelming.

“Hyung…” he whispered, voice trembling. “You make it sound like I’m… important.”

Mark frowned softly and bopped him on the forehead.

“Because you are important.”

Jisung blinked.

“To us,” Mark added, “and to me. Always.”

Jisung sniffled, shoulders shaking, and threw himself forward, hugging Mark so tightly that the alpha wheezed.

Mark wrapped him up without hesitation.

“Okay, okay— You're crushing me,” Mark laughed into his hair, “but I’ll allow it.”

Jisung clung harder.

He remembered being ten.

Being scared.

Being small.

And he remembered Mark picking him up with steady hands and saying,

This one is ours.

Now, almost ten years later, he held onto Mark with just as much trust.

Maybe even more.

The room was warm and quiet, Mark still rubbing slow circles into Jisung’s back as the pup steadied his breathing.

Then—

BANG.

The door flew open so violently that it crashed into the wall, and both wolves jolted.

Donghyuck stood there, eyes sharp, scent flaring in panic.

“What happened?! Why is the pup crying? Who made him cry?!”

Mark groaned. “Hyuck—”

“Don’t ‘Hyuck’ me!” The omega snapped, storming across the room like a furious mother hen. “Your scent is all moppy and sad, and Jisung smells like tears—” His voice cracked. “Tears! Mark, what did you do?!”

“I didn’t—” Mark began.

“Because if you made him cry, I swear to the moon I will—”

“Hyung…” Jisung croaked softly.

Donghyuck spun toward him instantly, dropping to his knees beside the bed with a gasp.

“Oh no, oh no, baby, why are you crying?” His hands cupped Jisung’s face without hesitation. “Who hurt you? Was it Mark? I bet it was Mark. Blink once if yes. Actually, don’t blink, you already blink a lot. Oh my god, your little nose is red—”

Jisung burst into a choked laugh.

Then, without warning, another wave of emotion hit him.

Because this was Donghyuck.

Donghyuck, who carried him for hours when he was ten.

Donghyuck, who snarled at anyone who dared look at the pup wrong.

Donghyuck, who fussed and scolded and coddled with so much love it hurt.

And for some reason, the sudden memory of small-Jisung being wrapped in Donghyuck’s tail sent a crack through his heart.

His lips trembled. And he launched forward and hugged Donghyuck with full force.

Donghyuck froze.

Mark mouthed Good luck behind Jisung’s back.

Then Jisung sobbed into Donghyuck’s shoulder. Just full, emotional, overwhelmed tears.

Donghyuck panicked instantly.

“Oh my god. Oh no. Why are you crying again?” he cried, wrapping his arms around the pup so tightly Mark winced. “Who hurt you NOW? Was it yourself? Did Mark say something stupid? Did someone look at you wrong? Do you need water? A snack? A heated blanket—?!”

Jisung shook his head desperately, clinging harder. Donghyuck pulled back just enough to see his face, only to melt completely.

“Ohhh my baby,” he whispered, hands cradling Jisung’s cheeks. “You’re growing up, aren’t you?”

Jisung hiccuped, nodding miserably.

Donghyuck let out a wounded sound and immediately pulled him back in.

“My little pup is growing up,” he repeated, burying his face in Jisung’s hair. “I’m not ready. I am not emotionally prepared. Mark, get tissues.”

Mark blinked. “Why me—”

“NOW, Mark Lee!”

Mark scrambled away to fetch the tissues.

Donghyuck sniffled dramatically. 

Jisung sniffled with him. 

Mark returned with an entire box.

When Donghyuck looked up again, his eyes were misty too.

“You can grow up,” he said softly into Jisung’s hair. “You should. You deserve it. But you will always be my pup. I don’t care how big your role becomes. I don’t care how tall you get or how strong your wolf is. You’re still mine to scold. Mine to fuss over. Mine to protect.”

Jisung cried harder.

Mark shoved the tissue box between them like he was offering a peace treaty.

Donghyuck accepted it without letting go.

Mark sighed, affectionate and exasperated.

“You two are ridiculous,” he muttered.

Donghyuck sniffed. “Shut up. We’re having a moment.”

Jisung whimpered into Donghyuck’s chest, overwhelmed but so, so warm.

Mark smiled at the scene. 

The prickly omega hugging his pup like the world was ending, Jisung clinging like a baby koala, both smelling like tangled emotion and comfort.

Yeah.

This was his pack.

And this was exactly how it should be.

It needed just a couple of minutes for the entire pack to appear in Jisung’s room. 

Renjun stood there first, eyes wide. Chenle peeked from behind him. Jeno skidded to a stop beside them.

And right behind them was Jaemin, breathing a little too fast like he’d run the whole hallway the moment he scented distress.

They all froze at the scene displayed in front of them. 

Jisung sat on the edge of his bed, eyes red, being held and protected in Donghyuck's chest, who was glaring at Mark as if he were a criminal.

Mark looked helpless, sat down beside Jisung as if he tried to calm him down, when Donghyuck barged in.

And Jisung… Jisung was crying again.

Renjun spoke first.

“…Okay, what the hell happened?”

Mark pointed at his mate, looking a bit worried. “Don't believe a word he says.”

“You made him cry,” Donghyuck snapped. “I smelled it. I smelled it. Before ANY OF YOU. Explain yourself, criminal.”

Jeno blinked fast. “Why is Jisung crying in Hyuck-hyung’s armpit?”

Chenle elbowed him. “Shut up, you’ll make him cry more.”

Jaemin swallowed hard, his scent already deepening. “Sungie? Are you hurt? Are you overwhelmed?” His voice cracked with panic he tried to swallow.

Jisung lifted his face and sniffed, his voice cracking. “I’m not— I’m not crying because of Mark… Hyuckie, stop glaring—”

“I will never stop glaring,” Donghyuck declared, pulling Jisung into his chest again.

Renjun crossed his arms, looking between all of them like he was trying to solve a murder. “So you all made the baby emotional at the same time. Impressive. Truly pack efficiency.”

“We didn’t—” Mark tried.

“It’s not their fault,” Jisung said, voice wobbling. “It's mine.” 

Six wolves turned to him at once.

“No, it isn’t,” Mark said immediately.

“It’s literally never your fault,” Donghyuck added.

“You breathe, and we clap,” Chenle said, nodding seriously.

“Chenle—” Renjun sighed, though he didn’t disagree.

Jisung wiped his face with his sleeve, embarrassed but too overwhelmed to pretend otherwise. 

“I just… got emotional.”

Renjun’s eyebrows softened. “About what?”

Jisung rubbed his eyes. “About… growing up. About when I first met Mark Hyung. And Hyuck Hyung. I was ten. Everything was huge. I was tiny. They felt like the whole world.”

Jeno’s expression softened instantly. “Sungie…”

Mark’s breath hitched.

Donghyuck froze and then melted completely, folding Jisung into his chest.

“Oh no. Oh no, not the baby-nostalgia-cry. Come here, come HERE, my pup—”

Mark slumped. “I swear I didn’t mean to make you cry, Sungie. I was just being… You know. Emotional. Old. Whatever.”

“At your big age of twenty-eight?” Chenle deadpanned.

Mark stood up and threw a pillow at him.

Jaemin stepped forward slowly, his heart in his throat.

“Sungie… Why didn’t you call us? We would’ve come right away.”

“I didn’t want—” Jisung hiccuped. “To bother you.”

Six wolves inhaled sharply at the same time.

Mark shook his head, devastated. “You could never bother us. Ever.”

Donghyuck sniffed. “Who told you that? Give me names.”

“It's just…” Jisung tried, voice breaking again. “I was thinking about when I met them—” He looked at Mark and Hyuck. “—and you took care of me even when I was small and scared and… And now I’m almost twenty, and everything feels fast.”

Mark sat beside him again, voice barely steady. “You’ll always be our kid, Sungie. Growing up doesn’t change that.”

Jisung whimpered, burying his face in Donghyuck’s shirt again.

At that exact whimper, the entire pack couldn’t help it. They surged forward. As if gravity itself didn’t work the same around their pup.

Chenle sighed. “Okay, group hug before he molds into Hyuck Hyung permanently.”

“No, NO. I don’t want all of you—” Jisung protested weakly.

Too late.

They wrapped around him in a warm, overwhelming pile. Arms around shoulders, heads pressed close, hands rubbing his back, scents mixing until the air in the room felt like one heartbeat.

Chenle squeezed him from the side. “We should do this every night.”

Jeno elbowed him. “Shut up, he’s crying again.”

Renjun sighed softly. “Let him cry. That’s what we’re here for.”

Jaemin ended up right behind Jisung, arms circling gently around his waist from the back, chin pressed lightly to Jisung’s shoulder.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

Jisung’s tears finally slowed, replaced by quiet hiccups and shaky breaths...

Donghyuck sniffed dramatically. “Next person who makes him cry without permission will fight me.”

“That was you,” Mark said, laughing wetly.

And for the first time in ten minutes, Jisung let out a tiny, watery laugh.

Surrounded. Held. Safe.

His pack. His family. 

Always

☽

After the whole emotional mess, the pack absolutely refused to leave Jisung alone.

Even though the pup had stopped crying ages ago and was now loudly complaining, he was still trapped in a suffocating pile of limbs and affection.

“Chenle, stop elbowing me!”

“Hyung, you’re crushing me. Hyuuung, that’s too tight!”

“And Jaemin, stop! Stop nuzzling—! It tickles!”

“Yah, let me goooo!”

“NEVER!” Donghyuck declared without hesitation, clinging tighter like a dramatic mom.

“I’m not even sad anymore, Hyuuuung!”

“I don’t care! I’m sad now, and I’m not letting you go!”

Mark was seconds away from bursting into laughter. Renjun, fed up, stood up and clapped his hands once, like a teacher breaking up unruly children.

“Alright, enough. Let the pup breathe before he passes out.”

Jeno and Mark escaped the cuddle pile immediately. Chenle grumbled in protest, and Jeno flicked him on the forehead again, making the younger jump up and attempt revenge. He failed.

Mark crossed his arms as he looked at his mate.

“Hyuckie…” Mark warned gently.

“Don’t even try, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck hissed back, clinging to Jisung with the emotional strength of a thousand wolves.

Mark only sighed, settling beside his omega. He pressed his fingers to the spot just below Donghyuck’s scent gland, rubbing softly. His scent changed softly, barely noticeable for the others, but for Donghyuck, it was so much stronger.

Donghyuck melted so dramaticallythat  his knees almost gave out.

“Come on, baby,” Mark whispered, scooping him up bridal-style without effort. Donghyuck immediately curled into him.

Mark gave the group a small nod as he carried his omega out of the room. Everyone was used to that kind of scene, so no one said much about it. 

Renjun, who had rolled his eyes at least three times already, turned to the pup. He seemed to analyze him before speaking again.

“Alright. I’ll leave him to you,” he said pointedly, shoving Jeno and Chenle toward the hallway.

The room finally emptied.

And that’s when Jisung realized… Renjun wasn't talking to him. Because Jaemin was still behind him.

Still hugging him.

Arms still wrapped snugly around his waist.

Heat flooded Jisung’s cheeks instantly, blooming all the way to the tips of his ears.

Jisung stayed frozen for a whole heartbeat.

Then another.

Then Jaemin’s chin gently rested on his shoulder.

“You done blushing,” he murmured, “or should I give you a minute?”

Jisung practically squeaked.

“I—I’m not blushing!”

“Mm. Sure.”

Jaemin loosened the hold around his waist just slightly… only to pull him a little closer a second later. “Then why’s your neck hot?”

“It’s not—! Hyung, stop teasing…”

“I will,” Jaemin hummed, sounding absolutely like someone who had no intention of stopping. “But only if you stop looking so tense.”

“I’m not tense!”

“Mm-hm. And I’m a houseplant.”

The pup puffed up indignantly, which only made Jaemin chuckle, a low, warm sound that draped over Jisung like a blanket.

“Come here,” Jaemin said softly, guiding him back until Jisung was seated between his legs on the bed. “Lean.”

Jisung hesitated.

Just a little.

Then melted back against him.

“That’s it,” Jaemin murmured, hands smoothing down Jisung’s arms, grounding and warm. “Breathe. I got you.”

Jisung’s shoulders slowly lowered. His heartbeat steadied. His scent stopped trembling with leftover embarrassment.

Jaemin’s thumbs traced slow circles on his hips, and the pup was so comfortable it was actually worrying him.

“You know,” he said casually, “for someone who was just trapped in a mountain of wolves, you’re acting like this is the part that overwhelms you.”

“It is!” Jisung hissed. “Because you— You’re— You—”

“Yes?” Jaemin smirked into his shoulder. “What am I, pup?”

Jisung’s breath hitched.

“You’re annoying,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin laughed softly, wrapping his arms fully around him now and resting his cheek against Jisung’s curls.

“Good,” he said. “If I’m annoying, that means you’re comfortable enough to complain. That’s what I want.”

Jisung blinked, caught off guard.

Jaemin’s voice softened even further.

“No tears,” he murmured. “No worries. Just stay here. Feel me. Breathe.”

The pup didn’t answer.

He just leaned back more, just a little, and Jaemin tightened the hug without a word.

“See?” Jaemin whispered, smug but impossibly gentle. “You fit perfectly.”

Jisung felt his heart speed up, and his eyes showed how affected he was by those words. His scent softened too, tinted with sweetness and shyness.

Jisung lasted maybe thirty seconds before his pride kicked in. He grew annoyed at being the only one getting embarrassed.

“I should— I should get up,” he mumbled suddenly, pushing lightly at Jaemin’s arms. “I need to, um… do things.”

“Things?” Jaemin echoed, tone pure disbelief. “Like what?”

“Important things!”

“Like running away from me because you’re embarrassed?”

Jisung flushed violently. “NO—!”

He tried to stand, but Jaemin tightened his arms just enough to stop him without hurting or actually restraining him. He had always done that when the pup was tired of him, showing how much he adored him.

“Hyuuuung,” Jisung whined, squirming like a caught kitten. “Let me gooo.”

“No,” Jaemin said calmly, resting his chin atop Jisung’s head. “You’re warm. And comfortable. And dramatic. I’m keeping you.”

“Jaemin!”

The blushed pup twisted again, but Jaemin just adjusted their position so Jisung ended up even more securely seated between his legs, like a human seatbelt made of smug alpha.

“Stop moving,” Jaemin scolded lightly, pulling him back against his chest. “You’re going to fall on your face again, and I’m not letting you blame that on ‘new exercises.’”

“That was ONE time!”

“One time too many, pup.”

Jisung huffed. “I said I’m fine!”

“Yes,” Jaemin nodded sagely, “you’re so fine that you’re radiating ‘please hold me so I don’t overthink myself into a hole’ energy.”

“I AM NOT—!”

“You are,” Jaemin corrected, kissing the back of his head gently. “And it’s okay.”

Jisung went still.

Because even when Jaemin was teasing… His voice always softened at the edges.

Always warm.

Always grounding.

He felt so safe.

“But I’m not letting you run away,” the alpha added with a grin Jisung could hear. “Not when you were about to curl into a sad little ball again.”

“I WASN’T!”

Jaemin chuckled. “Pup, you sprinted to your bed like you were fleeing a crime scene.”

Jisung hid his face in his hands. “Hyuuuuung, stop embarrassing me.”

“No.”

Jaemin laced their fingers together, gently tugging Jisung’s hands down.

“Look at me.”

Jisung reluctantly lifted his eyes.

Jaemin’s were soft. Too soft.

“You’re safe,” he said. “With me. With all of us. You don’t have to run away from anything, especially not from me teasing you.”

“That’s literally why I’m trying to run.”

Jaemin smiled. “Then I’ll just catch you every time.”

Jisung sputtered. “That’s— that’s—!!”

“True,” Jaemin concluded, tightening his hold just enough to pull Jisung back into his chest again. “Now relax before I start grooming you on purpose.”

“HYUNG—!”

“Try me,” Jaemin threatened affectionately.

Jisung froze.

Jaemin smirked. “Good pup.”

The pup covered his face again, fully defeated.

Jisung stayed tucked against Jaemin for a long moment, the teasing finally settling into something quieter. The room felt warm again. 

Safe. 

His heartbeat wasn’t trying to rip out of his chest anymore.

“…Hyung?” Jisung murmured, barely above a whisper.

Jaemin hummed, still rubbing slow circles on his waist. “Hm?”

“I… I really do feel better now.”

Jaemin pulled back just enough to tilt Jisung’s chin up with one finger, checking his face. “You do?” His voice had softened, teasing gone. “You look better, too.”

Jisung flushed instantly.

“Hyung—”

“What?” Jaemin whispered, brushing a curl out of his eyes.

Jisung’s throat bobbed. He hesitated, twisting his fingers in the hem of Jaemin’s shirt.

He looked small again. But not scared, unsure.

“Can I… tell you something?”

He didn’t wait for permission this time.

“I think I— I want you close. When I shift.”

Jaemin froze.

Not in shock.

More like a ripple of emotion moved through him, pride, protectiveness, something deeper Jisung couldn’t name.

Slowly, Jaemin cupped the back of his neck, thumb brushing the hairline.

“You want me there?” he asked, voice low and steady. “Next to you?”

Jisung nodded, cheeks burning. “I… feel safer with you. And I know you’re always the one who keeps me in line and… You're the only one who can calm me down when my wolf gets weird.”

Jaemin’s eyes softened so much that it made Jisung hide again, but Jaemin didn’t let him. He gently caught Jisung’s cheeks, holding him there.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Jisung did.

Jaemin leaned forward just enough that their foreheads touched.

“I’ll be right by your side,” he whispered. “From the moment you shift to the moment you wake up. I won’t leave you for a second.”

Jisung’s breath hitched.

“I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you grounded. I’ll keep everyone else off your back if your instincts go wild. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

Jisung’s eyes stung again, but this time, in a good way.

“Really?” His voice cracked softly. “You promise?”

Jaemin’s hands slid up into his curls, cradling his head.

“I promise, pup,” he murmured, brushing his thumb under Jisung’s eye. “I’ll be there. Always.”

Jisung leaned forward and bumped his forehead into Jaemin’s shoulder, overwhelmed and warm.

“…Thank you, Hyung.”

Jaemin held him closer, wrapping his arms around his waist again.

“Anything for you,” he said quietly.

And he meant it.

Jisung bit back a flustered sound, but Jaemin definitely heard it. His grin turned smug instantly.

“See? Look at you,” Jaemin teased in a low voice. “Asking for me. Holding onto me. If you want cuddles, you can just say so, pup.”

Jisung shoved his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Nope,” Jaemin replied cheerfully. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you like me anyway.”

Jisung’s ears went red. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t have to.” Jaemin wiggled his eyebrows, far too full of himself now.

Jisung wouldn’t say it out loud, but he truly liked him. 

Eventually, eventually, Jaemin exhaled, brushing a hand over the top of Jisung’s head once more.

“Okay,” he said, softer. “I’ll give you a little space now. You good?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. Thank you… Really.”

Jaemin gave him one last long look, protective, fond, reluctant, and let the pup go. Finally, standing up.

“If you need me, even a little bit,” he warned, “I’ll know.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

And with a final, reluctant retreat, Jaemin finally let Jisung have a moment alone…

Even if he lingered just far enough away that he could hear any rustle in case Jisung so much as sneezed.

☽

After a while, it was time to start preparing for the full moon. Normally, the pack wouldn't do much, but Jisung’s shift could be unpredictable, and they'd not let their pup get scared or hurt by it. 

The house was buzzing.

Not loud, but there was a focused, purposeful kind of movement that made the air feel charged. Shoes being tied, jackets being grabbed, Mark checking his phone to make sure the moonrise timing was right, Chenle stuffing snacks into his pockets for “post-trauma recovery,” and Renjun mumbling something about blankets and post-shift protocol. Something they haven't needed in years. 

Jisung stood near the couch, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater as he watched everyone get ready.

It felt real now.

He was really doing this.

And then Jaemin came down the stairs.

Mint hoodie, hair slightly mussed, sleeves pushed up like he was ready to fight a bear if needed. His eyes scanned the room once and locked on Jisung instantly.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, stepping close enough that Jisung felt his body heat.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

Jaemin’s hand hovered near his back, not touching, just there. 

Present. Solid.

It made Jisung’s shoulders relax on instinct.

Donghyuck approached with a small backpack. “We’re heading to the river clearing. It’s quiet, the ground is soft, and Jisung knows the area well. Less stress.”

Jisung nodded, grateful. The river was his favorite spot, the sound, the smell, the openness. It felt… safe.

Mark opened the front door. “Alright, kids. Let’s move.”

Everyone filtered out, but Jaemin lingered behind Jisung, subtly herding him toward the door like a shadow that refused to detach. He adjusted the pup’s padded jacket over him and zippered it up. 

“Remember,” Jaemin murmured, leaning down just enough that only Jisung heard it, “I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

Jisung’s stomach fluttered.

He didn’t trust his voice, so he just said, “Okay,” barely above a whisper.

They stepped outside together.

The air was cool, tinted blue with the coming night, and Jisung felt a strange mix of nerves and anticipation settle in his chest.

Mark locked the door with a firm click and set the alarm, double-checking the panel out of habit. Every full moon, he got a little paranoid, okay, a lot paranoid, about leaving the house empty, so now they had a full security system worthy of a small fortress.

The others barely noticed, already stepping into the cold. Fresh snow covered the ground, softer now that the heavy storm had passed. Their breaths came out in white puffs, and for once, the night felt calm.

Jisung immediately crouched down, drawing a crooked smiley face into the snow with one finger, completely absorbed. Jaemin leaned against the porch railing, watching him with a fond, amused tilt to his head.

“You’re not gonna start rolling around in it, are you?” Jaemin asked, smirk sharp, voice warm.

Jisung shot up so fast his hat almost fell off, face burning.

“No! I’m— I’m not a kid,” he declared.

Then promptly slipped a little in the snow.

Jaemin snorted.

Jisung groaned.

And maturity died on the spot. 

As they walked down the familiar trail toward the river, the rest of the pack kept a respectful distance, close enough to help, far enough not to overwhelm. But Jaemin stayed at Jisung’s side, matching his pace without a single step of hesitation.

And the closer they got to the clearing, the steadier Jisung’s breathing became.

The river clearing opened before them like a soft, silver-lit cradle.

Tall grass swayed lazily, the quiet bubbling of the water filled the air, and the last sliver of sun dipped behind the trees. The moon was just moments from rising, brushing the sky in pale blue.

Jisung had always loved this place. In the summer, he could spend hours splashing around in the shallows, chasing fish he never caught or bouncing through the water until Renjun inevitably got fed up and hauled him out by the scruff. 

Jisung inhaled.

This place always smelled like calm, clean water, earth, the faint sweetness of the wild mint that grew by the rocks. Tonight, with his nerves still buzzing under his skin, it felt like the only thing keeping him grounded.

Mark and Donghyuck set down their backpacks and blankets near a fallen log.

Renjun started placing lanterns in a loose circle, low and warm, making the space feel soft instead of clinical.

Chenle adjusted the distance between everything twice, then once more “just in case,” earning a smack to the back of his head from Jeno.

Jaemin stayed beside Jisung the entire time.

Not crowding him.

Not touching.

Just there, steady and patient, a quiet presence that kept Jisung’s breath from speeding up.

“You can sit if you want,” Jaemin said gently, nodding toward the spot the pack had prepared. “No rush. We’re early on purpose.”

Jisung hesitated, then sank onto the warm blanket at the center. His legs felt shaky, but in a manageable way. Jaemin crouched beside him, close enough that their knees almost touched.

“Hyung…?” Jisung murmured.

“Mm?”

“I feel… weird.”

“Weird how?” Jaemin’s voice softened even more.

Jisung lifted a hand to his chest. “…Warm? Like something’s pulling inside. Not scary, just… Different.”

“That’s good,” Jaemin assured him. “Your instincts are waking up. It’s supposed to feel like pressure moving around… Like your body’s stretching even before it actually does.”

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly. “You sounded like Renjun Hyung just now.”

“I’m more responsible than he gives me credit for,” Jaemin huffed.

Jisung snorted. The smallest, most reflexive laugh, and Jaemin’s chest visibly relaxed.

Renjun walked past them, arms full of extra towels. “If Jaemin starts pretending he’s a mentor, someone tackle him.”

“Hey!” Jaemin barked.

Mark raised a hand without looking. “Noted.”

Donghyuck chimed in, “I’ll record it.”

Jisung let out another tiny laugh, and Jaemin smiled at him, full and bright, the kind that made Jisung’s stomach flip.

But then the air shifted.

Jisung felt it before he realized what it meant, a subtle tug under his ribs, a spark of instinctive hunger for the earth beneath him, his hearing sharpening, the river becoming louder, leaves rustling clearer, every scent around him more vivid.

His fingers curled into the blanket. 

“Hyung…” he whispered.

Jaemin immediately straightened, eyes alert. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Jisung swallowed. “I think it’s starting.”

“Okay. Just breathe for now.” Jaemin nodded and leaned closer, voice a soft murmur meant only for him. “When you’re ready, you tell me. I’ll stay right here. I won’t go anywhere.”

Jisung’s pulse steadied.

The moon broke over the treeline, its light spilling gently across the clearing.

The moment the moonlight touched him, something inside Jisung snapped open.

He inhaled sharply, the sound too thin, too shaky. His back straightened as heat rushed down his spine, legs trembling beneath him.

Mark’s head snapped up.

Renjun froze mid-step.

Donghyuck stopped talking altogether.

“Easy,” Jaemin murmured, hand hovering near Jisung’s back without touching. “You’re okay. Just breathe, Sungie.”

But Jisung couldn’t.

Everything felt too much.

Too loud, too bright, too sharp.

The ground pulsed beneath him. His skin felt tight, too small, like his whole body was trying to expand out of itself.

“I—Jaemin—I don’t—” His voice cracked as his nails dug into the blanket. 

It felt almost like shifting for the very first time, unfamiliar, overwhelming, nothing like the easy, instinctive change he’d grown used to. Even his wolf seemed unsure, restless, and confused, yet aching to break free beneath the moonlight. Jisung tried to steady himself, tried to make sense of the sensations piling over him, but it was all too much at once. 

Then the real pain hit.

A choked sound ripped out of him as his muscles trembled violently. His vision blurred, edges going white.

The black-haired alpha faltered, just for a heartbeat. His instincts surged, snapping at his control, demanding he rush in and take over. Every part of him screamed to steady the pup himself. But he forced the urge down.

He remembered what Donghyuck told him. 

Come back to yourself, Jaeminnie. We need you clear-headed. He needs you clear-headed.

So instead of lunging forward, Jaemin did the only thing that kept his instincts from exploding, he called for his alpha.

“Mark Hyung—!” Jaemin barked, voice edged with urgency.

“I got it,” Mark responded instantly, signaling the pack with a sharp motion. “Circle!”

The pack moved as one, forming a loose ring around Jisung, giving him space while keeping him close. A silent, instinctive shield.

Donghyuck’s scent shifted first, warm and anchoring, then Mark’s joined it, steady and firm. Their scents wove together and reached for Jisung, a wordless promise, telling their pup he was safe. They were right there. They weren’t going anywhere.

Jisung’s breath hitched again as his legs went numb. He fell forward onto his hands.

“Hyung—” He gasped, voice breaking. “I—I can’t—!”

“You can,” Jaemin whispered, crouching low, eyes level with Jisung’s. “I’m right here. You’re not alone.”

Another wave came, too strong, too sudden.

Jisung cried out, body curling in on itself as bones shifted beneath skin, stretching, reshaping. The sound that tore from him was half-human, half-something else.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Jaemin moved closer, slow and deliberate, like approaching a frightened animal.  “Sungie, listen. You’re safe. I promise.”

Jisung’s breathing spiraled into short, panicked gasps.

“I’m scared— I’m scared—!”

“I know.” Jaemin edged closer until his knee brushed Jisung’s hand. “Let it happen. Don’t fight it. Your body knows what to do.”

The shift surged again, violent this time.

His shoulders elongated. His spine arched and snapped into a new alignment. Fur began to bloom along his arms, pale and bright under the moonlight.

Jisung screamed.

Chenle flinched.

Jeno clenched his jaw.

Donghyuck looked seconds away from crying.

“Mark… Should we—?” Renjun started.

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “He just needs Jaemin’s voice. Stay in the circle.”

Jaemin leaned in even closer, lowering himself until his forehead almost touched Jisung’s.

“Pup, listen to me.”

His voice dropped to a tone that vibrated through instinct more than hearing.

“Breathe in… Good. Now again. You’re doing it. You’re okay.”

Jisung’s hands shifted, fingers shortening, palms stretching into small paws. His ribs expanded with each ragged breath as white fur spread over his skin.

His human voice faded, replaced by soft whimpers of pain.

Hyung…

This time, it wasn’t spoken. It was instinct, fear, scent.

“I’ve got you,” Jaemin whispered, as if answering a question only their instincts understood. “I’m not moving.”

Another wave of transformation hit, this one smoother, quicker.

Jisung’s body shrank down, folding into a small, trembling shape. His ears lifted into pointed tips, fur fully coating him, tail curling tight to his body. When the shift finally settled, a familiar tiny white wolf lay curled in the grass.

The cutest the pack had ever seen.

He was shivering, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut.

“Pup…” Donghyuck whispered, voice breaking.

Jisung opened his eyes. 

Sky blue. Bright. 

Frightened.

The instant he saw the pack surrounding him, instinct took over.

He scrambled backward, teeth bared in a tiny, terrified snarl. His paws slipped, claws skidding against the grass as he pressed himself against a rock, ears pinned.

“Whoa—” Mark held his hands up. “It’s okay, kid—”

Jisung let out a sharp warning bark, tail tucking tight.

Jeno flinched. “He’s scared.”

“He just shifted,” Renjun whispered. “He’s overwhelmed.”

Jisung’s breaths were fast and shallow, his small wolf frame shaking with panic. His eyes kept darting, looking for danger, for escape. 

Then Jaemin stepped forward.

Slow. Grounded.

Head lowered, posture soft and nonthreatening.

“Hey, Sungie…” Jaemin murmured, voice low and warm, letting his alpha scent drift out gently. “It’s me.”

Jisung froze.

Jaemin crouched in front of him, keeping enough distance not to feel like pressure.

“You did so well,” he whispered. “Come here, pup.”

The white wolf whined, tiny and heartbreaking, and inched forward without meaning to, pulled by instinct and scent.

Jaemin extended a hand slowly.

Jisung sniffed it and trembled. 

Fresh mint with a mix of herbal fragrance… 

Then shoved his tiny head into Jaemin’s palm, collapsing into him with another whine.

The pack collectively exhaled.

Jaemin gathered the little wolf close, guiding his head under his chin, grounding him with soft strokes along his back.

“There you are,” Jaemin whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, baby. You’re okay.”

Jisung finally relaxed, he was a small, trembling, white fur glowing under the moonlight, and he let himself be held.

☽

Jaemin kept one hand cupped over the back of Jisung’s neck, thumb stroking slow circles through soft white fur as the tiny wolf trembled against him. Each stroke helped his breathing steady, though his ears still twitched at every sound.

“You’re alright,” Jaemin murmured. “They’re your pack, remember?”

The white wolf blinked up at him, eyes still glassy and anxious, but he sniffed, hesitantly. He turned to them and took a small, uncertain step forward.

Mark crouched first, lowering himself to Jisung’s level.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said softly, hands open, no sudden movements. “It’s just us.”

Jisung lifted his nose.

Sniff, sniff.

Pine. Sun-warm musk. Keen. Alpha. Leader.

His little tail gave a tentative twitch.

He sniffed again, closer this time, and bumped his tiny white snout against Mark’s knee. Then he looked up, sky-blue eyes wide and trusting, tail beginning to wag.

Mark instantly melted.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed, voice cracking. “I was two seconds away from crying.”

Then came Renjun, stepping forward with his calm, steady presence. Jisung sniffed him. 

Soft florals, paint brushes, and home.

He whined quietly and nudged Renjun’s hand with his forehead. The beta’s entire face softened.

“There he is,” he murmured, gently scratching behind Jisung’s ears. “There’s our pup.”

Jisung’s tail wagged.

Jeno didn't move, but the pup also sniffed him. 

Brother. Alpha. Protector. 

And Jisung happily circled around him. Jeno smiled fondly, trying to play it cool. 

Then Chenle approached, too excited, and Jeno immediately grabbed the back of his jacket to stop him from launching forward.

“Let me go! He knows me! We were raised together!” Chenle protested.

Jisung took one step toward him anyway, nose working overtime.

SniffsniffSNIIIIFF

And his tail suddenly wagged so hard his whole body wiggled.

Chenle beamed with pride.

“See? He remembers me.”

Jisung yipped happily and hopped in place, tiny paws leaving the ground, ears bouncing.

Donghyuck stepped forward next, eyes shiny but trying to seem composed.

“My baby,” he whispered, voice soft and wobbly.

Jisung stopped.

He froze.

Then a loud whine tore from his throat, and he barreled straight into Donghyuck’s legs, ramming his tiny head into him so hard the omega squeaked.

“OW—Pup!!”

Jisung kept shoving, frantic with affection, tail wagging in a full-body wave.

Donghyuck dropped to his knees and immediately scooped him up, burying his face in Jisung’s fur. “You scared me so much,” he muttered thickly. “I hate you. I love you. Never do that again.”

Mark smothered a laugh. “Hyuck… He’s licking your entire face.”

“LET HIM, MARK LEE, I DESERVE THIS.”

Jisung, now hyper and fueled by happiness, wriggled out of Donghyuck’s arms and immediately sprinted in a tiny, chaotic circle. 

A small white blur.

He tripped.

Got up.

Tripped again.

“He’s exactly the same!” Chenle wheezed.

“And here I thought presenting would give him balance.” Renjun groaned. 

“Nope. Same pup.” Jeno smiled. 

Jisung then bounded toward Jaemin, hopping up with an excited yip, nose pressing insistently to the alpha’s cheek.

Jaemin caught him mid-jump, holding him snuggly against his chest.

“There you are,” Jaemin whispered, smiling. “My Sungie.”

The wolf licked Jaemin’s chin, tail going a mile a minute, paws scrabbling at his uniform like he couldn’t get close enough.

“Okay, okay—” Jaemin laughed. “You’re excited, I see. I’m happy too.”

Jisung barked, wriggled free, then launched himself at Mark’s back.

Mark yelped. “HEY—!”

Jisung slid right off, rolled in the snow, hopped back up, and zoomed around the whole pack again, pure joy and adrenaline making him a white rocket.

The pack watched him with fond disbelief.

Donghyuck wiped his eyes. He leaned into Mark's shoulder. 

“Yep,” he said proudly. “Still our baby.”

Jisung darted through the clearing in a messy, uncoordinated zigzag, his little white paws thumping wildly against the snowy grass. He was leaving a trail of little pawprints on the snow. His tail wagged so violently it threw off his balance every third step. The sky-blue eyes he’d inherited in wolf form were bright with joy.

Mark laughed under his breath.

“Alright,” he said, holding his hands up, “before that menace crashes into a tree, let’s shift.”

Donghyuck clapped. “Yes. Pup needs supervision .”

Renjun lifted one brow. “He always needs supervision.”

Jeno sniffed the air. “And he’s about five seconds from falling into the river.”

“We don’t need a wet pup. Again.” Chenle groaned. 

One by one, they stepped back to give themselves space.

Mark shifted first, white and gold, matching his human blonde hair, swirling around him like a soft breeze until the newly emerged wolf stretched tall and steady. His fur was a warm cinnamon-brown, touched with streaks of gold at his chest. His hazel eyes remained soft, wise, alpha-bright.

He let out a low, vibrating rumble that immediately caught Jisung’s attention.

The pup froze, ears high, then barked loudly and bounded toward him. Mark was the biggest of them all, and Jisung the smallest. Both made an adorable sight of size difference. 

The tall golden wolf circled Jisung once, slow and steady, inspecting him with protective alpha seriousness. Jisung instinctively straightened, chest puffed, ears trying to stand tall, but he was still tiny, fluffy, and clumsy.

Mark lowered his forehead to Jisung’s.

A silent blessing.

A leader’s approval.

Jisung’s tail wagged so fast it practically picked him up off the ground. Mark nuzzled the pup, earning a few licks and lovebites on the snout. 

Without even thinking, Jisung duck-wriggles his tiny white body beneath Mark’s chest, pressing himself under the alpha’s belly like he used to do as a tiny ten-year-old wolf.

Mark stops in his tracks.

For a moment, he freezes, staring down with wide wolf eyes, then he lets out a soft, overwhelmed rumble.

The pack watches as the tiny omega pup tucks himself neatly under Mark, brushing his cheek to Mark’s ribs, tail curled tight.

Donghyuck makes a loud, emotional yelp.

Mark lowers his body just enough so Jisung fits comfortably, staying still as the pup hides beneath him, shielding him from the world exactly like he did years ago.

The nostalgia hits Mark like a punch to the chest. 

Their pup is still their pup. Even if he’s grown. Even if he’s an omega now.

Donghyuck shifted next, his smaller wolf quick and fox-like, with reddish chocolate-brown fur and sharp eyes that always seemed to be judging someone. His tail curled around his side in annoyance as Jisung smacked face-first into Mark’s leg.

Donghyuck steps closer, still frantic, still emotional, and his fluffy brown tail swishes in front of Jisung. 

Jisung reacts immediately. He lets out a small, needy chirp and wriggles out from under Mark. And then flops directly onto Donghyuck’s tail.

Just like he used to as a baby.

Donghyuck yelps, spins, and then realizes: OH. Oh. He wants comfort. He wants me.

The brown wolf instantly lies down, letting Jisung bury his face into that thick tail fluff. Jisung paws at it, kneads it, nuzzles it so deeply it tickles.

Donghyuck shakes with emotion. His tail flicks, brushing Jisung’s muzzle.

Jisung chirps contentedly.

The entire pack melts.

Mark looks like he might cry again.

Renjun followed the shift. A pale, elegant wolf, snow-gray with darker ears and a sharp, intelligent gaze. He shook out his coat as Chenle shifted beside him, a compact black wolf with speckles of cream, already bouncing in excitement.

Jeno’s shift rippled out in a burst of quiet power. A black-and-tan wolf, the second-largest after Mark, with intelligent brown eyes that scanned the clearing before relaxing.

One wolf remained standing in human form.

Jaemin.

He watched Jisung, watched how the pup zipped between the pack, tail wagging, nose booping anything within reach. But as soon as Jaemin stepped back, the pup slowed.

He stared.

Waited.

Jaemin smiled softly.

“Alright,” he murmured. 

He inhaled once, then shifted.

It was like night spilling over the forest floor.

Jaemin’s wolf unfurled into existence in a single, fluid wave of shadows. His fur was deep black, so dark it seemed to drink in the moonlight. He was the third-largest, built sleek and strong, head held with natural authority.

And his eyes… Amber, bright and burning, softening the moment they landed on the tiny white wolf staring up at him with starry eyes.

Jisung’s tail went WHOOSH so fast he nearly toppled over.

He scrambled closer. Stumbling, tripping, hopping. Bumping his nose into Jaemin’s chest with an excited squeak. Jaemin lowered his head, pressing his forehead gently to Jisung’s, letting out a deep, velvety rumble that immediately calmed the pup’s frantic breathing.

The rest of the pack circled around them, forming a loose protective ring.

Renjun sat like a patient guardian.

Jeno and Chenle nudged Jisung’s sides playfully.

Donghyuck curled around Mark’s leg with a proud huff.

And Jisung… Jisung sniffed every single one of them, circling clumsily between their legs, booping noses, accidentally tripping over Renjun’s tail, yipping every few seconds like his joy couldn’t fit inside his tiny body.

The pack had shifted.

And he was safe.

And home.

Jisung’s paws skittered across the clearing, claws scraping at the dirt as he tried to keep track of six wolves at once. His tail bounced like it had a mind of its own, swinging in wild arcs that kept tapping everyone’s legs. 

His body felt different from before; he felt lighter and softer. But he liked the change, although it was making him overly excited and full of puppy energy. 

The pack watched him with a mix of fondness and restrained amusement, because one wrong move, and their newly shifted omega pup might accidentally knock himself unconscious.

He darted toward Renjun. The gray wolf did nothing but lower his head in a calm, “I acknowledge you” gesture. Jisung responded by booping him directly on the nose.

Renjun blinked.

Then, with the deepest sigh a wolf could possibly make, he accepted his fate.

Jisung was already gone, scampering toward Jeno next.

The black-and-tan wolf perked up at the incoming white blur, bracing himself. Jisung approached carefully this time, ears pricked high. He sniffed Jeno’s chest, then his shoulder, then stepped closer and shoved his whole face into Jeno’s neck fur, breathing him in.

Jeno melted instantly, tail wagging.

He rubbed his chin over Jisung’s crown, marking him back.

Chenle was next, or rather, Chenle forced himself to be next.

The cream-speckled wolf barreled toward Jisung and tackled him sideways into the grass, their tiny bodies rolling like chaotic tumbleweeds.

Jisung squeaked.

Chenle yipped triumphantly.

Renjun muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Children. Unsupervised children.”

But Jisung wriggled around and bit Chenle’s ear, not hard, more a symbolic “hey, rude!” nip, and Chenle immediately brightened, tail wagging so intensely that Jeno had to step back to avoid getting hit by it.

Then came Donghyuck, again.

The reddish-brown wolf stood tall, far more dramatic than necessary, and extended his neck forward in the slow, exaggerated greeting of a pack omega to a new pup joining them.

Jisung froze.

He stared.

Then he flopped onto his back.

Just plopped down, paws tucked, belly fully exposed, tail sweeping the dirt in huge, eager arcs.

Donghyuck choked on his own breath, then melted into a puddle of fondness so quickly he practically liquified. He nosed Jisung’s head, licked between his ears, and bumped their foreheads together in a soft little ceremony of affection.

It seemed he was screaming, “My pup, my precious pup, so adorable.”

Mark, who had been trying to resist the temptation of coming to the pup too, finally came closer and also nuzzled the pup, the memories filling him with a nostalgic feeling.

Only one wolf had stayed back the entire time.

Jaemin.

Black fur like liquid shadow, amber eyes tracking every step Jisung made. Not hovering, guarding.

When Jisung finally turned toward him, the pup’s joyful energy softened. His trot slowed into careful, almost shy steps. He sniffed once. Twice. Then pressed his forehead against Jaemin’s chest in a quiet, instinctive gesture of trust.

The black wolf leaned down until his muzzle rested on top of Jisung’s head, covering him completely.

A claim.

And Jisung sank into it, tail wagging in slow, steady arcs, no longer frantic, just content.

He finally belonged somewhere inside himself.

☽

The pack began moving as one through their lands. 

Mark at the very front, Renjun guiding from the left, Jeno sweeping the right, Chenle bouncing between them, Donghyuck glued dramatically to the pup’s side. 

And Jisung?

He trotted in the very center. Surrounded. 

Safe.

His every step mirrored by the black wolf at his flank, Jaemin matching his tiny pace perfectly.

The little white pup looked up once, brushing against Jaemin as if checking. 

“You’re still there?”

Jaemin bumped him gently with his shoulder.

“Always.”

Mark took them through the familiar path in the woods, which led to their usual hunting field. 

Their lands were vast. 

The Lee Pack had made sure they would have enough space for their full moon's nights. 

Behind their house stretched the wide sweep of their territory, an expanse of woodland that breathed with life. Although it was already winter and their lands were covered in white, it was still a beautiful sight. 

Towering pines formed the backbone of the forest, their needles whispering with every breeze, while younger trees such as birches, aspens, and slim oaks filled the spaces between them. Dense underbrush would tangle at the wolves’ paws: brambles, fern beds, tall grasses that swayed like green waves whenever the wind rolled through.

Small creatures lived everywhere. In spring, squirrels darted along branches like streaks of rust, hares hid in the thickets, ears twitching at the faintest sounds, and birds nested high above, their calls ringing through the territory from dawn until dusk.

To the south, the woods opened into the river clearing, a wide, sunlit space where smooth stones lined the banks and wild mint grew in fragrant clusters. The river itself ran clear and cold, fed by meltwater from the mountains. It was Jisung’s favorite spot, the place where he’d spent countless summers splashing, chasing fish, or rolling in the sand. 

But to the north, the forest grew quieter and deeper, less playful, more purposeful. That was where the deer trails wound through the trees, where hoofprints dotted the soil, and the air carried the unmistakable musk of prey. These were the grazing grounds, carefully watched over by the pack, and protected with the same vigilance they offered every corner of their home.

Their territory was what every pack would desire. They could lay around by the river, run through the woods or hunt by the grazing grounds. 

Although, Jisung wasn’t entirely convinced he was built for hunting. Sure, it was part of every wolf’s instinct, but he had never felt that spark of excitement for it. 

Not the way Chenle did, anyway. 

Chenle, who from the very first day had pestered Mark and Jeno nonstop, begging them to teach him everything, dragging them out whenever he caught even the faintest scent of prey. 

All to the contrary,  Jisung was never much of a hunter. He was the kind of wolf who preferred following intriguing scents, lying on his back to watch the clouds drift by, and quietly observing whatever small creatures crossed his path. If he stumbled upon wild berries, he’d choose those without hesitation over chasing anything with legs. And, naturally, he adored playing with the pack, sometimes enthusiastically, sometimes at their expense, regardless of whether they were in the mood.

Because of that, his excitement for the hunt barely flickered, his interest hovering somewhere near nonexistent.

The younger wolves were meant to stay behind during hunts, trailing the pack at a safe distance, learning only by watching. Even so, Chenle had once gotten ahead of himself, literally, darting forward and botching his bite, nearly earning a broken skull from a deer’s sharp hoof. 

Mark had been furious that day. He’d grumbled the entire way back and forced Chenle flat onto the ground, belly bared in a clear display of apology and submission. It was one of the very rare occasions the alpha leader was actually intimidating.

Now, Mark stood before the two youngest members of the pack. One of them was frozen stiff, posture perfect as he tried his hardest to look obedient and composed. The other was busy sniffing at a mossy rock, clearly captivated by something only he could smell. 

“You follow us. Don’t jump ahead. Stay behind,” Mark commanded through the bond, his presence tall, steady, unmistakably alpha.

Chenle’s tail wagged immediately. Jisung merely blinked up at him, ears twitching, both of them looking far too innocent for the trouble they were capable of causing.

Jaemin moved closer to Jisung then, lowering his head to nuzzle the smaller wolf’s cheek.

“Don’t get distracted,” he murmured softly. “Follow us. Follow me.”

The pup responded by licking his snout, and Jaemin answered with an affectionate nip, gentle but possessive.

Jaemin lingered there a moment longer, his shoulder brushing Jisung’s side in a quiet, grounding way. The bond between them hummed, steady and reassuring, like a leash made of trust rather than command.

Jisung shuffled closer without even realizing it, matching Jaemin’s pace instinctively. His ears flicked, catching the distant rustle of the herd up ahead, the low thrum of the pack moving as one body. It all felt… big. Loud. Important. His tail curled slightly, betraying his nerves.

Chenle noticed first.

He bumped Jisung with his shoulder, playful but careful, a silent it’s fine, I’m here. 

Jeno, walking just ahead, flicked his tail back in warning. Focus. 

But there was warmth in it, not reprimand.

Mark moved again, and the pack flowed with him, slipping between trees like shadows. Renjun took point beside him, eyes sharp, nose lifting to test the wind. The forest shifted around them, sounds dulling and scents sharpening. 

Jisung tried to do what he’d been told. He really did.

He followed. He stayed behind. He kept his paws light.

But his attention wandered anyway.

The crunch of frost under leaves. The faint sweetness of sap bleeding from a scarred trunk. A bird fluttering away in a rush of wings. His nose dipped instinctively, pulling him half a step to the side before Jaemin’s tail brushed his chest, blocking him.

Amber eyes glanced back at him, firm but soft.

Jisung huffed quietly and tucked himself closer again, almost brushing Jaemin’s flank now. The black wolf allowed it, adjusting his stride so Jisung wouldn’t have to rush.

“Good. That’s it. Stay with me.”

The reassurance settled Jisung’s racing heart. He breathed in Jaemin’s scent. It was fresh mint, pine, something warm and faintly herbal, and let it anchor him. His steps evened out. His tail relaxed.

Then, suddenly, five heads lifted at once. Ears angled forward. Tails stilled. No sound passed between them, yet the decision rippled through the pack like a shared heartbeat.

They had found the herd.

Mark moved ahead, eyes scanning, then chose their target. An old deer, lagging too far from its peers, vulnerable in a way prey often didn’t realize until it was too late.

The pack spread without needing a command.

Jaemin slipped left, silent as shadow, circling wide to cut off the deer’s escape toward the ravine. Mark mirrored him on the right, careful to keep the wind against his muzzle so his scent doesn’t carry ahead. Between them, Renjun and Jeno stayed low, pacing each other, ready to push. Donghyuck hung back, watchful and patient, prepared to reinforce wherever the hunt faltered.

Behind them, the younger wolves lingered, light-footed and observant.

The deer is grazing in a narrow clearing, unaware. Its ears flick once, then again, not alarmed, just listening to the forest the way prey always does.

Jaemin freezes.

That’s the signal.

Jeno breaks first, not in a sprint, but it's a sudden, deliberate rush that snaps twigs and sends leaves flying. The deer’s head jerks up, eyes wide, muscles coiling.

It bolts exactly where they want it to.

Renjun presses from behind, never quite close enough to spook it into panic, but close enough that it can’t slow down. Mark shows himself just long enough on the right to redirect the run. Jaemin closes the left, quiet and inevitable, narrowing the space until the clearing becomes a corridor.

Donghyuck moves when the rhythm feels right.

He darts in fast and light, cutting across the deer’s path just long enough to confuse it, forcing a stumble, a hesitation. That heartbeat of uncertainty is all the pack needs.

They surge together then, no longer separate pieces but a single, coordinated force. The deer tires quickly, breath coming hard, movements losing their clean precision. The wolves adjust instinctively, matching its pace, waiting for the moment when resistance gives way to exhaustion.

Behind them, Chenle ran with his tongue lolling out, thrilled by the rhythm of the chase. Jisung followed more lightly, paws quiet, already wishing it were over.

And then he smelled it.

Something strange. Faint. Familiar in a way that tugged at his chest.

He slowed, nose lifting, trying to catch the trail again. The scent was barely there, hypnotic and calling, threading through the forest like a whisper. Without realizing it, his steps angled away from the others.

The pack pressed on, focused on the hunt.

The small white wolf drifted between the tall pines, following that addictive, aching trail, drawn by something that felt impossibly close.

Almost…

As if his mother were out there, waiting.

The pup couldn't resist. 

The scent thickened the farther Jisung went. Not stronger, just clearer, as if it were guiding him on purpose, threading itself between tree trunks and over roots half-buried in snow. His paws slowed, steps turning cautious, ears swiveling as the forest subtly changed around him. The sounds here were wrong. Too quiet. No squirrels scolding from the branches. No birds fluttering overhead.

That was when his instincts finally screamed.

Jisung skidded to a stop, hackles lifting as his nose caught something sharp beneath the familiar pull of the scent.

Metal.

Old iron. Rust. Oil.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Right in front of him, half-hidden under a dusting of leaves and snow, lay a trap. It jaws wide, teeth waiting. It was cleverly disguised, placed exactly where an unwary wolf would step if they followed a trail without thinking.

Jisung froze.

One paw hovered midair before he slowly, carefully, set it back down. His breathing went shallow, controlled the way Mark had taught him, the way Donghyuck drilled into them whenever they wandered too close to danger.

Think. Don’t panic.

His sky-blue eyes scanned the ground, then the trees.

The strange scent twisted now, no longer comforting. No, it felt wrong. Artificial. Layered. As if something familiar had been smeared there on purpose to lure him in.

A hunter.

The realization hit hard enough to make his stomach drop.

Jisung backed away one silent step at a time, paws placing themselves where snow had already been disturbed, careful not to snap a twig or brush a leaf. His ears flattened as another scent reached him, faint, but unmistakable.

Human.

He didn’t run.

Instead, he vanished.

Jisung darted sideways and slid beneath a low tangle of roots where an old pine had lifted itself from the earth years ago. He tucked himself tight against the hollow, curling his tail close to his body, white fur blending eerily well with the frost-dusted shadows.

He held still.

So still, even his breathing slowed to near nothing.

Moments passed. Then more.

A shape moved in the distance, boots crunching softly against snow, a low murmur of a human voice carried on the wind. Jisung squeezed his eyes shut, fear curling in his chest, but he didn’t bolt. Didn’t whine. Didn’t move.

Good pup, he told himself, desperately. Stay hidden. Stay quiet.

His heart pounded anyway, each beat echoing through the bond like a flare.

Far away, too far, his pack hunted on.

And Jisung, small and alone beneath the roots of a pine, prayed that someone would feel his fear before it was too late.

☽

Mark struck with precision.

His jaws closed around the deer’s throat, crushing windpipe and artery in one decisive motion. The animal screamed raw and desperate, its hooves tearing up the ground as it fought against the inevitable. The sound cut through the forest, sharp and wild, until it choked off into silence beneath the moon.

The body collapsed.

The pack closed in immediately, a tight, reverent circle around the fallen prey. Blood steamed faintly in the cold air. 

Pride rolled through the bond, heavy and electric, and Mark lifted his head and howled, deep and victorious, calling their youngsters forward to witness the end of the hunt.

Chenle burst from the trees first, paws skidding as he nearly overshot the carcass. His tail wagged furiously as he bounced around the deer, excitement bubbling over. He nipped at the neck with far too much enthusiasm, a clumsy imitation of Mark’s lethal bite.

Donghyuck clicked his tongue and leaned in, licking the blood from Mark’s snout in a quiet, grounding gesture, while Renjun snapped sharply at Chenle’s shoulder, warning, not cruel.

Wait.

They all waited.

The seconds stretched.

Jaemin was the first to feel it.

Something was wrong.

His nose lifted instinctively, searching for the usual traces that clung to Jisung, berries, snow, that faint sweetness that always followed him like a whisper. There was nothing. No white blur racing toward them. No sky-blue eyes shining with relief now that the scary part was over.

Jaemin’s chest tightened.

No.

Mark turned next, eyes snapping to the treeline where he expected Jisung to appear. The bond surged, and then hollowed out.

The space Jisung occupied was… Empty.

The realization hit Mark like a blow to the ribs.

The pack felt it all at once.

Jeno spun toward Chenle, panic flaring sharp and fast. Where is he? His stance broke, head jerking as he scanned the woods.

Chenle froze, excitement draining from his body in an instant. His tail dropped. He looked back the way they’d come, nose working frantically. He hadn’t noticed. He’d been too focused. Too eager.

“I—I don’t know,” his whine trembled through the bond, thick with guilt.

Donghyuck’s growl ripped free before he could stop it.

It wasn’t loud, but it was broken.

His omega instincts surged violently, raw panic clawing at his chest as he shoved past the others, nose to the ground, scent flaring wide and desperate.

Where is he?

Where is my pup?

The forest, moments ago filled with triumph, now felt vast and hostile, every shadow a threat, every silence too loud.

And somewhere out there, their smallest wolf was gone.

The bond fractured.

Not broken, but stretched thin and trembling, as a thread pulled too far.

Mark forced himself to breathe, even as his instincts screamed. The leader in him slammed down on the panic, hard and fast, because if he lost control now, the pack would splinter with him.

“Circle,” he commanded, voice rough, carrying through the trees.

They obeyed without thinking, bodies shifting into a tight formation around the fallen deer. Not to guard the prey, but to anchor themselves. To keep from scattering blindly into the forest.

Donghyuck didn’t stop pacing.

His steps carved frantic loops around the circle, claws digging into frozen earth, nose pressed low as he dragged in scent after scent. Nothing. Nothing that belonged to Jisung. His growl wavered, breaking into something dangerously close to a whine.

“He was right behind us,” Donghyuck snapped, eyes bright and unfocused. “He was right there.”

Chenle folded in on himself, tail tucked so hard it brushed his belly. His ears flattened, guilt flooding his scent until it was sharp and sour.

“I—I should’ve watched him,” he choked. “I stayed with him. I was supposed to—”

Jeno moved instantly, pressing his flank against Chenle’s side, steady and solid. He nudged him once, firm but gentle, grounding.

“We’ll find him,” Jeno said, even if his own heart was racing. “Blaming yourself won’t bring him back faster.”

Renjun had gone still.

Too still.

His head lifted slowly, eyes scanning the treeline with calculating precision. He inhaled deeply, sorting through layers of scent. There was blood, pine, frost, crushed leaves, and he was discarding them one by one.

“He didn’t run,” Renjun said finally, voice calm but strained. “There’s no panic trail. If he bolted, we’d smell it.”

Jaemin’s amber eyes flashed.

“Then he followed something.”

The thought made his hackles rise. His body angled instinctively toward the forest, muscles coiled, ready to tear through anything that stood between him and the white wolf he’d sworn to stay close to.

Mark nodded once, sharp and decisive.

“No more waiting.”

He stepped forward, nose lowering to the ground where their path had split earlier. His scent surged outward. It was commanding, steady, and iron-strong. And it was wrapping around the pack like a spine snapping into place.

“Renjun, Jeno, track outward in an arc. Stay within howl range. Chenle, you stay with Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck bristled, turning sharply. “I’m not staying—”

“You are,” Mark cut in, firm. “Because if he howls back, it’ll be to you.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitched. His ears flattened, but he obeyed, pressing closer to Chenle despite the tremble running through him.

Mark turned last to Jaemin.

“You’re with me.”

Jaemin didn’t answer.

He was already moving, nose to the ground, following the faintest thread of familiar sweetness that twisted away from the hunt path and vanished between the pines.

His heart pounded, instincts roaring unchecked now.

Hold on, he begged silently, pushing his scent outward, flooding the forest with it. Stay where you are. We’re coming.

Behind him, the pack spread into the woods, no longer hunters.

Only a family searching for its heart.

And Jaemin ran. 

Not wild, not reckless, but fast and urgent, every sense stretched razor-sharp as he followed the thinnest silver thread of scent cutting through pine and frost. Jisung’s smell was there. Faint. Broken. Like it had been brushed away by wind and fear.

“Here,” Jaemin growled through the bond, veering left. “He came this way.”

Mark was on him instantly, longer strides eating the ground, nose low, eyes scanning for anything out of place, broken twigs, disturbed snow, the wrong kind of quiet. The forest felt wrong now. As if it knew they were missing something precious.

Donghyuck’s howl shattered the silence.

It wasn’t a call of command or warning.

It was raw. High and aching, the sound tore through the trees and rolled over the ground like a wound.

Jisung. 

The name wasn’t spoken, but it lived in every note. 

Come back, answer me, please.

Jaemin’s chest tightened painfully. He pushed more of his scent outward, dark and grounding, lacing it into the air in long, deliberate pulses.

“Answer him,” Jaemin muttered, half-pleading. “Come on, pup. You know that call.”

They slowed where the scent twisted abruptly, spiraling instead of running straight. Jisung had circled. Hesitated.

Mark stopped dead, lifting his head.

“Fear,” he said grimly. “He smelled something.”

Jaemin’s claws sank into the dirt. “Hunter.”

The word tasted bitter.

Mark shifted direction immediately, angling downwind. “Then he hid. He wouldn’t run if he thought something was nearby.”

Another howl rang out, Donghyuck again. Chenle answered him, voice breaking but loud, trying to bridge the distance.

Then Jaemin saw it. A crushed patch of grass. A snapped sapling. The faintest trace of metal and oil. Unnatural, sharp, wrong.

His scent pooled there, thick with fear but alive. It curved sharply away at the last second, darting toward a cluster of rocks and fallen logs.

“He avoided it,” Jaemin breathed, awe threading through the panic. “Smart pup. He saw it.”

Mark let out a slow, steadying breath. “Good. Very good.”

They slowed near a dense cluster of bushes, paws sinking softly into the forest floor as they scanned the shadows. The air had shifted; no sharp tang of metal, no oil, no lingering human presence. Whatever had been there was gone now, leaving only the forest and the echo of fear it had stirred.

Mark and Jaemin stepped forward together.

Jisung’s scent was unmistakable here, thick and trembling, curled tight in on itself. He was close. Hiding. They could feel him as much as smell him.

But the pup didn’t move.

Fear had scrambled his instincts, dulled his trust in his own nose. Every sound felt like a threat, every scent unreliable. He stayed tucked away, small and silent, waiting for danger that had already passed.

The alphas didn’t rush him.

They stayed where they were, steady and patient, letting their scents spread low and calm. 

Safe, safe, safe. 

Until the forest could remember how to breathe again.

“Jisunggie,” Mark added, pushing his scent forward, steady and commanding. 

Safe. Come home.

The forest held its breath.

Somewhere ahead, beneath stone and shadow, a small white wolf trembled, listening.

“I’m here, pup.” Jaemin stood by, waiting.

And then, a soft sound.

A whine, barely louder than the wind.

Jaemin’s heart slammed against his ribs.

“There,” he said hoarsely. “That’s him.”

There.

From beneath the tangle of roots and thorny brush, white fur slowly emerged.

Jisung.

He crawled out inch by inch, belly low to the ground, paws trembling as they touched open earth. His sky-blue eyes were wide and glassy, darting between every shadow, every tree trunk, every imagined threat. His tail was tucked so tightly it brushed his hind legs, and his ears were pinned flat against his fluff.

For half a heartbeat, panic flared brighter, his body tensing as if ready to bolt, to disappear back into the dark.

Jaemin’s chest clenched.

Mark didn’t move.

He lowered his head just slightly, posture open, non-threatening. His tail eased into a slow, steady sway. 

Leader. Home. Safe.

Jaemin mirrored him, dropping without thinking, black fur brushing the forest floor. His amber eyes softened, voice low even in his wolf form, a sound felt more than heard.

Pup.

Jisung let out a shaky whine.

Jaemin took one careful step forward, then stopped, respecting the invisible line of fear.

It’s us, his presence pressed gently through the bond. You’re not alone.

Mark’s scent reached Jisung next, pine, sun-warmed musk, the familiar weight of command wrapped in reassurance. It hit him all at once, and his legs nearly buckled.

A broken sound slipped from his throat.

He tried to stand taller, to be brave, but his body betrayed him. The smallest wolf in the pack trembled where he stood, fear shaking through his frame as tears blurred his vision.

“Easy,” Mark murmured, voice steady as stone. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”

Jisung took one hesitant step forward.

Then another.

Each movement looked like it cost him everything, courage scraped raw and offered anyway. When he finally reached the edge of their space, he collapsed into the ground, body curling inward, exposing his back and neck in pure, helpless trust.

Jaemin’s breath hitched.

There he is.

Their pup. Terrified, shaken… and still choosing them.

Mark moved first this time, slow and sure, closing the distance as Jaemin followed, both of them circling in close without trapping him, just enough to block the forest out.

“You’re safe now,” Mark whispered.

And for the first time since he’d wandered off, Jisung believed it.

Mark lifted his head.

From deep in his chest, a howl rolled out. It was long, steady, unmistakable. A leader’s call. A promise carried through bone and soil.

Found him. He’s alive.

The sound cut through the forest, echoing between the pines, answering the frantic, broken call Donghyuck had sent out moments before. Almost immediately, another howl replied in return, sharp with relief, still trembling at the edges.

Jisung startled at the sound, ears flicking up.

Then he did something small, instinctive… and heartbreaking.

He howled too.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t strong. Just a thin, wavering sound that cracked halfway through, more plea than announcement. But it carried his scent, his voice, his presence, and that was enough.

Jaemin felt it ripple through the bond like a released breath. It was as if suddenly they all were connected, and their heartbeats were in sync, beating again with Jisung’s. He found it extremely healing, in a way deeper than he could ever have. 

“Good.” Mark lowered his head toward the pup. “They hear you.”

Jisung swallowed and took a shaky step closer to Mark’s side, pressing briefly against his leg before realizing what he was doing and freezing in embarrassment. Mark only flicked his tail, allowing it, guiding without comment.

Jaemin shifted to Jisung’s other side, positioning himself slightly behind him, a quiet wall at his back.

We’re going home, his presence soothed. Stay between us.

They moved together.

The walk back felt longer than it should have, every sound still making Jisung flinch. Twigs snapping under his paws sent his head whipping around, nose testing the air in frantic little bursts. 

Each time, Jaemin brushed his flank or Mark slowed his pace, keeping him anchored.

☽

When the clearing finally opened up, the scent of blood and pack hit him all at once.

The deer lay where it had fallen, steam still rising faintly from its body. Around it stood two wolves, but Donghyuck was already moving.

The moment he saw white fur between the two alphas, he broke.

A sharp, almost feral sound ripped from his throat as he crossed the clearing in a blur, skidding to a stop just short of crashing into Jisung. He sniffed him wildly, his head, shoulders, neck, and belly, checking for wounds and blood.

“Easy,” Mark rumbled softly, but there was no reprimand in it.

Donghyuck pressed his forehead against Jisung’s, hard enough to be grounding, tail lashing as his scent spiked, panic melting into fierce relief.

Mine, it said. Safe.

Jisung whimpered and leaned into him without hesitation, legs finally giving out as he sagged against Donghyuck’s chest. The older omega curled around him instinctively, body shielding, tail wrapping tight.

Chenle hovered just behind them, guilt heavy in every line of his posture. He nosed Jisung gently, then pulled back, ears drooping. A quiet, broken whine slipped from him.

“I’m sorry,” his scent said.

I lost you.

Jisung lifted his head and nudged Chenle’s muzzle once, weak but deliberate.

Jaemin watched it all with sharp, amber focus, only relaxing when he saw Jisung breathe easier, saw his tail loosen, his ears lift just a little.

Renjun and Jeno returned without sound.

They slipped out from between the trees on the far edge of the clearing, bodies low, movements controlled, but their scents carried urgency long before their paws crossed the boundary of the pack’s circle.

Renjun shook first, ears flattening. Not just one.

Jeno let out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the ground. Traps. More than we thought.

Mark lifted his head at once, attention snapping sharp. “Where?”

Renjun padded closer, careful not to disturb Jisung, then angled his muzzle north. “Along the ridge and near the old stream bend. Wire snares. Fresh. Set within the last hours.”

Jeno’s tail lashed. “We tracked the human scent. Heavy boots. Oil. Metal. He circled the perimeter, testing paths. Knows wolves hunt here.”

The air changed.

Mark’s fur bristled along his spine, hackles lifting as a deep, dangerous growl rolled from his chest. It wasn’t loud, but it was felt. The leader’s anger pressed down through the bond, sharp and cold.

Our land.

Donghyuck snarled softly in response, body tightening around Jisung. Chenle’s ears pinned back, teeth flashing for just a second before he forced himself still.

“A hunter,” Mark said, voice low and lethal. “On Dream territory.”

Renjun’s eyes hardened. “He’ll come back.”

“He won’t get the chance,” Mark answered.

Jaemin shifted slightly, positioning himself more squarely at Jisung’s side, amber eyes fixed on Mark, waiting for command, but he felt it before he saw it.

Jisung moved.

Quietly. Carefully. As if afraid of being noticed even now.

The white pup slipped out from Donghyuck’s loose hold and padded closer to Jaemin, ducking his head and pressing himself beneath the black wolf’s chest, curling instinctively into the shadow of his larger body. His nose buried against Jaemin’s fur, breath shallow, tail tucked tight.

Cover me.

The request wasn’t spoken, but it rang loud through the bond.

Jaemin froze for half a heartbeat.

Then his wolf answered without thought.

He widened his stance and lowered himself, chest dropping protectively over Jisung, tail curling around him, flank shielding his side. His scent deepened, dark and grounding, wrapping the pup completely.

I’ve got you.

Jisung shuddered once… Then went still.

Mark noticed. Of course he did.

His anger didn’t fade, but it shifted, sharpening into something even more dangerous. He took one look at Jisung, hidden beneath Jaemin, trembling but quiet, and his growl deepened.

“That’s it,” Mark said. “We sweep the territory at first light. Every trap gets destroyed.”

Donghyuck moved to Mark’s side, brushing close enough for their fur to touch, his presence deliberate. His scent unfurled, warm, steady, and familiar, wrapping around his mate like a reminder to breathe. He was afraid too, and furious in a quiet, aching way, but he couldn’t let that fear pull Mark under.

Not now.

They were still together. Still standing on their land. And most importantly, their pup was alive and back with them.

Donghyuck pressed his shoulder gently against Mark’s, grounding him. We’re here, his scent seemed to say. He’s here.

Whatever anger waited for the hunter could come later. For now, Jisung needed safety to feel like home again, and the pack needed their leader whole enough to give it to him.

Mark stood rigid for a long moment, chest still heaving, jaw clenched so tight it ached. The scent of human, sharp and wrong, still burned at the back of his nose, setting his instincts on edge. His wolf wanted to tear through the forest, to hunt the hunter, to make a point that this land was not unguarded.

But then he forced a slow breath. Then another.

He let Donghyuck’s scent sink in, warm and anchoring, reminding him of what mattered now. The anger ebbed, not gone, never gone, but contained, locked down behind duty.

His gaze softened when it dropped to Jisung.

The pup was peeking out from beneath Jaemin’s chest, sky-blue eyes wide and still shaken, ears pinned low. There was dried mud on his paws, pine needles caught in his fur. 

Alive. Safe. Back.

Mark stepped closer, lowering himself slightly so he wouldn’t loom. 

“It’s okay now,” he said through the bond. “You did well. You stayed alive.”

Jisung’s tail gave a small, uncertain twitch.

Mark turned his head toward the deer, then back to the smallest wolf in front of him. His stance shifted, no longer sharp, no longer braced for battle, but open.

“Jisung,” he said gently, deliberately. “Come here.”

The pup hesitated, then moved, padding forward just enough to stay half-shielded by Jaemin. Mark waited. He always did.

“You take the first bite,” Mark said.

The clearing went still.

Jisung froze. “M—Me?” his posture seemed to ask, disbelief written into every line of his small body.

Mark nodded once. Firm. Certain.

“You’re the heart of this pack,” he said. “You come first. You eat first.”

Jisung swallowed, throat bobbing. His eyes flicked to Jaemin, then to Donghyuck, then back to Mark. Uncertainty warred with instinct, old habits of being second, of waiting, of being just the pup.

Jaemin dipped his head, nudging Jisung forward with a quiet huff. 

It’s yours.

Donghyuck’s tail swayed once, slow and encouraging.

Finally, Jisung stepped forward.

He approached the deer cautiously, sniffing first, grounding himself in the familiar scent of the pack all around him. Then, tentative but determined, he leaned down and took his first bite.

The moment he did, the pack relaxed as one.

Mark let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, tension draining from his shoulders. 

This, this was right. 

The pack centered again around their pup, their heart.

Donghyuck moved closer, sitting beside Jisung, eyes soft. Jaemin stayed pressed at the pup’s side, a solid wall of black fur and amber watchfulness.

Mark lifted his head and spoke again, voice carrying quiet authority.

“Eat,” he told them all. “We’re home.”

☽

The pack ate until their hunger was sated, then gradually settled into rest, the adrenaline of the hunt fading into the quiet comfort of full bellies and shared warmth. One by one, they lowered themselves to the ground, forming a loose but instinctive circle.

Mark and Jeno remained alert the longest, moving the perimeter in silence, noses lifted, ears sharp, confirming there were no lingering threats, no human scent clinging to the shadows. Only when the forest offered nothing but stillness did they finally relax.

Donghyuck lay down first.

He chose his place carefully, settling where he could see the clearing and, more importantly, where his eyes never lost sight of Mark. There was a pull in his chest, soft but insistent, that asked for closeness, for reassurance after everything that had gone wrong and right in the same night.

Mark felt it immediately.

He returned without a word, lowering himself beside his omega and curling in close. Donghyuck tucked himself into the larger wolf with a quiet huff of contentment, pressing flank to flank, their scents mingling until the tension fully eased from the air around them.

Bond reinforced. Pack steady.

The night finally allowed them peace.

Renjun was the next to settle.

He chose a spot a short distance from Mark, close enough to keep watch if needed, far enough to let the pack breathe. He folded his limbs neatly beneath himself, posture composed even in rest, sharp eyes scanning the tree line one last time before finally softening. Only when he was certain, truly certain, that the night had gone quiet did his tail still.

Jeno guided Chenle down beside him.

The baby alpha had been vibrating with leftover panic, energy tangled with guilt and fear, his tail flicking restlessly as his gaze kept darting toward where Jisung lay protected. Jeno nudged him gently at first, then more firmly, pressing shoulder to shoulder until Chenle huffed and finally gave in, sinking down with a dramatic flop.

“It’s okay,” Jeno murmured through the bond, his scent steady and reassuring. “He’s safe. You did nothing wrong.”

Chenle’s ears flattened. “I should’ve noticed sooner,” he whispered, voice small for once.

Jeno shifted closer, draping his tail over Chenle’s back in a quiet, grounding weight. “You stayed when you were told and the pack found him. That’s what matters.”

Slowly, the tension bled out of Chenle’s frame. His breathing evened, shoulders dropping as he leaned into Jeno without thinking, instinctively seeking comfort. After a moment, he tucked his nose beneath Jeno’s neck, a soft, childish gesture he rarely allowed himself anymore.

Renjun watched them from his place, expression unreadable but eyes warm.

The baby alpha finally stilled, his earlier panic fading into exhaustion. Surrounded by his pack, wrapped in familiar scent and warmth, Chenle let his eyes close at last.

Jaemin didn’t move far from where he’d stopped.

Once the pack settled, he lowered himself to the ground at Jisung’s side, black fur curling instinctively around the smaller white wolf. Jisung hesitated for only a second before inching closer, pressing his side against Jaemin’s chest, half-hidden beneath the darker frame, as he belonged there. His tail flicked once, nervously, then tucked close.

Jaemin let out a slow breath through his nose. “Alright,” he murmured, voice low, steady. “Tell me.”

Jisung shifted, ears flattening a little as he gathered the words. His nose brushed the ground as he spoke, voice soft and shaky through the bond.

“There was a smell,” he started. “Not deer. Not berries. It felt… familiar. Warm. I thought—” He swallowed. “I thought it was… My mom.”

Jaemin’s ears twitched sharply the moment he understood.

It was a wound no orphan ever learned how to speak about without bleeding. And for a wolf pup, it was deeper, etched into instinct, into scent, into the bones themselves.

Jisung had been barely five when his parents were slaughtered by a rival pack. Too young to understand politics, territory, or hatred. Old enough to remember warmth. Old enough to remember his mother’s scent wrapping around him at night, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way safety used to smell.

After that, there was only silence.

He was sent into the Lee Pack’s protection system for lone wolves, housecare, they called it. Clean rooms. Kind voices. Structured days. He was the youngest pup they had ever taken in. The smallest bed. The quietest cry.

He spent countless nights staring at ceilings that weren’t his home, wondering why his parents hadn’t come back yet. Days passed. Then months. Then years.

Jisung had always been smart. Too smart, maybe. One day, without anyone telling him, the truth settled in his chest like a stone.

They’re not coming.

He accepted it the way children sometimes do, without screaming, without breaking things. He listened when the caretakers told him he would join a pack someday. That he would be chosen. That he would be loved again.

And they were right.

He found a home. He found hyungs who guarded him, laughed with him, scolded him, and loved him. A pack that became his world. He grew happy there. Safe. Whole, in the ways that mattered.

But wolf blood bonds run deeper than logic. Deeper than time. Deeper even than happiness.

They never truly fade.

So when that scent brushed his nose, it was faint, impossible, achingly familiar… Something inside him shattered and reached at the same time. It didn’t matter that he knew. Didn’t matter that his mind understood death.

His instincts didn’t.

Because a wolf pup, no matter how loved, no matter how grown, will always turn toward their mother.

Even if she only exists in memory.

“You followed it,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

Jisung nodded, shoulders curling inward, as if trying to make himself smaller. “I know it was stupid. She’s gone,” he whispered, and his scent betrayed him, aching with loss, heavy with longing. “But, hyung… I—I couldn’t just ignore it. I tried. I swear I tried. I would never leave you. I’d never leave the pack, but—” His voice broke before he could finish.

Jaemin silenced him gently, drawing him closer and pressing a careful nuzzle into his fur. His scent unfurled, steady, groundin,g and warm, wrapping around Jisung like an anchor. 

I’ve got you. You’re here. You’re safe.

Across the clearing, Mark and Donghyuck stilled, their attention sharpening at the shift in the pup’s emotions. Worry flared, but eased just as quickly when they saw where Jisung was tucked, held by their healer, soothed by familiar strength. Trusting Jaemin, they stayed back, watching quietly, giving the moment the space it needed.

Jisung continued after a while. “I didn’t mean to go far. I just wanted to check. Then I smelled something wrong. Metal. Oil. Fear.” His voice wobbled. “I knew then. I hid. I didn’t step where the ground felt wrong. I remembered what you taught me.”

Jaemin angled his head down, amber eyes fixing on Jisung with sharp intensity. 

“You smelled the trap.”

Jisung nodded again, smaller this time. “The earth was… quiet. Too quiet.”

For a long moment, Jaemin said nothing.

The silence pressed heavier than any growl ever could. His amber eyes stayed locked on Jisung, sharp and bright with too much feeling, his chest rising and falling faster than it should have. Then his tail struck the ground once, hard and abruptly.

“You scared me half to death,” he growled. It wasn’t loud, but it carried weight, the kind that came from fear, not anger. “You do not wander off. You do not follow strange scents alone. You do not decide to investigate without telling the pack.”  He leaned in, muzzle close, teeth flashing, not to threaten, but because his instincts were still shaking. “You could’ve been hurt. Taken. I—” His voice faltered, just barely. “I wouldn’t have found you.”

Jisung folded in on himself, ears pressed flat, heart pounding. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice small. “I really am. I didn’t mean to—”

Jaemin exhaled sharply, a rough breath that sounded like it tore its way out of him. Then, slowly, deliberately, his stance softened. 

“But,” he said, quieter now, closer, “you didn’t panic.” His nose brushed Jisung’s temple as if checking he was real. “You didn’t run. You read the ground. You smelled the air. You hid. You waited.” His voice dropped, thick with something raw. “That was smart. That was very smart, pup.”

Jisung looked up at him, startled, eyes shining. “It didn’t feel smart,” he murmured. “I was terrified.”

Jaemin’s expression gentled completely then. He bent his head and licked the crown of Jisung’s fur once, slowly and carefully, a promise more than a gesture. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I felt it. Every second.” His shoulder nudged Jisung closer until their sides pressed together, solid and warm. “And you still did the right thing.”

Jisung’s tail twitched, then gave a small, hesitant wag. He leaned in without thinking, tucking himself against Jaemin’s chest like it was the most natural place in the world.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he confessed.

“You weren’t,” Jaemin replied at once, curling around him, voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. “You never are. Not as long as I’m breathing.”

Jisung’s breath hitched. He pressed his nose into Jaemin’s fur, clinging, and Jaemin held him there, firm, protective, and unyielding, like he was afraid that if he loosened his grip even for a second, the world might try to take him again.

“Next time,” Jaemin murmured, eyes scanning the dark one last time, “you don’t go alone. You call. I come.”

Jisung pressed his nose into Jaemin’s fur, breathing him in. “…Okay.”

Only then did Jaemin allow his own body to ease, eyes trained on the dark between the trees. He kept his focus outward, guarding, listening, trusting that now, now that safety wrapped around the clearing like a second skin, the pup might finally rest.

But Jisung didn’t sleep.

Not when Jaemin gently but firmly pinned him to the ground, careful not to scare him. Not when his sides were still heaving, breath coming quick and shallow, tongue lolling out as if he’d run for miles. Not even when Donghyuck deliberately flooded the bond with calm, heavy drowsiness, thick as warm fog rolling in low and slow.

Jisung wriggled free with a sharp, indignant huff and sprang back onto his paws almost immediately.

The energy inside him refused to settle. It fizzed and sparked beneath his fur, too bright and restless, leftover fear turned into motion because it had nowhere else to go. His paws danced against the earth, shifting his weight from side to side. His ears swiveled at every sound, every whisper of the forest. His tail lashed and wagged all at once, utterly unwilling to still.

Sleep, for the moment, had no chance of catching him.

“I’m fine,” he pushed insistently through the bond. “I’m here. I’m safe. I’m not tired.”

A wave of collective exasperation rolled back at him.

Chenle flopped dramatically onto his side, chest rising and falling hard as he watched Jisung sprint past again. 

“How is he still moving?” his bond echoed, half-awed, half-offended.

Renjun let out a quiet huff, eyes soft. “Adrenaline. It always comes after.”

Jeno shifted closer to Chenle, nudging him down when he tried to sit back up. “Let him burn it out. He’ll crash eventually.”

Mark didn’t move, but his presence pressed heavy and steady through the bond, a calm anchor. His gaze tracked Jisung’s every movement, tension still coiled tight beneath his fur. 

He’s not leaving my sight again.

Jisung skidded to a stop near Jaemin, chest heaving, eyes bright. He pawed at the ground, then at Jaemin’s leg, clearly asking for more.

Jaemin stared down at him.

“You are going to exhaust yourself,” Jaemin said, firm and unyielding.

Jisung tilted his head. “But I’m alive,” came the response, earnest and loud in a way only pups could manage. “And the forest is still here. And you’re here.”

Something warm and sharp twisted in Jaemin’s chest.

The pack watched them, fond and tired, quietly relieved. Even Donghyuck, still pressed close to Mark, allowed a soft ripple of affection to leak into the bond as he observed the scene.

“He just needed to feel it,” Donghyuck said. “That he’s still moving.”

Jaemin exhaled slowly. Then, without warning, he stepped forward and hooked a paw around Jisung’s middle, pulling him in close and dropping his full weight, not crushing, but grounding.

The pup squeaked in protest, squirming wildly.

“No running,” Jaemin said, calm but absolute. “No chasing. No more pacing.”

Jisung wriggled harder. “But—”

Jaemin lowered his head and pressed his forehead to Jisung’s, flooding the bond with something deep and steady, dark earth, night pine, the quiet certainty of an alpha who would not be moved.

Breathe with me.

The command settled over the pup like a net.

Jisung froze.

Once. Twice.

Then his breathing began to slow, matching Jaemin’s without him even realizing it. His paws stopped scrabbling. His tail gave one last twitch before drooping.

Jaemin stayed there, unmoving, until the frantic edge dulled and the bright energy finally began to ebb.

“Good pup,” Jaemin whispered, praise threading through the bond. “That’s it.”

Jisung slumped, exhausted at last, his head tipping forward to rest against Jaemin’s chest. He didn’t sleep, not yet, but the fight drained out of him, leaving only warmth and safety behind.

Around them, the pack relaxed in unison.

The pup fell asleep like a switch had been turned off.

One moment his eyes were still half-open, lashes fluttering as he fought it, and the next his weight went slack against Jaemin’s chest. His breathing evened out, deep and slow, the kind that only came when a pup finally let himself believe he was safe.

Jaemin didn’t move.

He adjusted his stance just enough so Jisung wouldn’t slip, curling his body around him instinctively, his shoulder shielding his spine, tail loosely tucked over his hind legs. It wasn’t a conscious decision. His wolf did it for him.

The pack settled into quiet around them, a low hum through the bond. Contentment. Exhaustion. The aftermath of danger had passed.

Jaemin kept his gaze on the treeline anyway.

He stayed alert, senses stretched wide, every sound catalogued. A branch creaking in the distance. Wind threading through pine needles. The distant rush of the river far south. Nothing threatened them. Still, he watched.

His attention always drifted back to the warmth near him.

Jisung was too warm for how small he still was. His ears twitched occasionally in his sleep, and his tail gave little unconscious flicks whenever something passed through the bond. Dreams, maybe. 

Jaemin swallowed.

He’d told himself it was instinct. That it was normal. Pups latched onto stronger wolves, especially after a scare. Alphas protected. That was how packs worked.

So why did it feel… different?

The bond between them hummed softly, not loud or demanding, just there. Steady. Familiar in a way that unsettled him. When Jisung breathed, Jaemin felt it. When Jisung shifted slightly, Jaemin adjusted without thinking. Their rhythms had lined up so naturally that it was frightening.

He’d noticed it before. Little things.

How the pack’s tension eased the moment Jisung was back in sight. How Mark’s rage had cooled the second the pup was accounted for. How Donghyuck’s distress had vanished as soon as Jisung pressed close again. How even Chenle, their reckless and fiery Chenle, had gone quiet and watchful, once Jisung was safe.

Jaemin’s jaw tightened.

It didn’t make sense.

Jisung wasn’t the strongest. He wasn’t the loudest. He wasn’t even particularly confident. Half the time he was distracted by scents no one else cared about or staring at the sky like it might speak back to him.

And yet…

When Jisung was gone, the pack fractured.

When he returned, they knit back together.

Jaemin lowered his head, resting his chin lightly against the top of Jisung’s fur. The scent there was soft, milk-warm and berries, something honeysweet and unmistakably home. His wolf leaned into it greedily.

Heart, his wolf murmured, wordless but certain.

Jaemin stiffened.

Heart of the pack.

The one everything circled around. 

The quiet center that didn’t command or dominate, but anchored. 

The one whose fear rippled outward and whose safety pulled everyone back into place.

He’d felt it when Jisung hid under him earlier, trembling and desperate to be covered. The instinct to shield had been violent. Possessive. Not in a claiming way, but in a this is mine to protect, always way.

That scared him.

Jaemin had never wanted anything like that before.

As if knowing the alpha was deep in thought, the pup made a tiny sound and curled closer, trusting without hesitation. Jaemin closed his eyes for a moment.

Whatever you are, he thought, not quite daring to name it, you’re important. To all of us.

And quietly… terrifyingly…

To him most of all.

☽

The pack woke the way wolves always did. Not all at once. but together.

It began as a ripple through the bond.

Renjun lifted his head first, ears flicking as he tasted the air.

Jeno followed with a long, exaggerated stretch, back arching, joints popping as he rose. “I am absolutely not ready to be awake,” he grumbled, though his tail gave him away with a slow, content sway.

Chenle woke with a sudden burst of energy, practically springing upright, tail already wagging like he’d been waiting for permission to exist again.

The bond shifted from quiet rest to something brighter.

Play.

Donghyuck was the one who set it off.

Without warning, he lunged at Mark, snapping playfully at the alpha’s shoulder before darting away, laughter sharp and delighted through the bond. 

“Tag. You’re it.”

“Yah—!” Mark barked in surprise, then immediately gave chase, paws thudding as he took off after his omega. “You are asking for it.”

They tore through the clearing in a tight circle, Donghyuck cutting sharp turns just to be annoying, Mark growling dramatically as if he wasn’t enjoying himself far too much.

Renjun sighed. “Children,” he muttered fondly, and followed anyway, precise and graceful even in play.

Jeno watched Chenle for half a second, raised his brows as if to say You ready? then bolted.

Chenle shrieked with joy and chased him instantly. “HEY— NO FAIR—”

The clearing filled with motion. Wolves weaving and colliding, paws kicking up frost and leaves, playful nips and shoulder-checks exchanged without malice. It was loud in the way only a pack could be, joyful, chaotic and alive.

Jaemin stayed where he was.

Jisung stirred against him, pulled from sleep by the energy flooding the bond. He blinked, disoriented for half a second, then his ears perked sharply as he registered the chaos around them.

His tail thumped once.

Then again.

And then he wriggled free from Jaemin’s loose hold and sprang to his feet, eyes bright, fur fluffed with excitement.

Jaemin barely had time to register the movement before the white pup turned, stared straight at him, and dropped into the clumsiest play bow imaginable.

You.

The challenge rang through the bond, bold and reckless.

Jaemin froze.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into something dangerous.

“Oh?” the black wolf’s presence purred back. “You want to try me?”

Jisung didn’t wait for permission.

He lunged.

It was… enthusiastic.

His paws skidded a little on the ground as he barreled forward, aiming for Jaemin’s chest with all the confidence of someone who had never been thoroughly humbled before. Jaemin sidestepped with infuriating ease, letting Jisung fly past him in a blur of white fur.

Jisung skidded to a stop, spun around, ears flat in embarrassment, and pounced again.

Jaemin let him get closer this time. Let him think he had it.

Then he dropped his shoulder and gently but decisively bowled the pup over, pinning him to the ground in one smooth motion. His weight wasn’t crushing, just there, undeniable and secure.

Jisung squeaked.

His legs flailed for half a second before Jaemin nudged him onto his back completely, towering over him with amber eyes bright with amusement.

“That's all you’ve got?” Jaemin teased through the bond.

Jisung growled weakly, ears burning as his tail betrayed him by wagging anyway. He snapped playfully at Jaemin’s muzzle, missing by a mile.

Jaemin lowered his head and gave the pup’s ear a gentle tug with his teeth.

Too slow.

A chorus of laughter rippled through the pack.

“You’re getting soft, Jaemin.” Mark huffed fondly as he passed by, followed by a Donghyuck who nearly tripped over himself from laughing too hard. 

Chenle skidded to a stop nearby, pointing with his snout like he was filing this away for future blackmail.

Jisung finally managed to wriggle free, scrambling to his feet with a dramatic huff. He shook himself out, fur sticking up everywhere, then shot Jaemin an indignant look.

“Hyung! Rematch,” he demanded.

Jaemin bumped his nose lightly against Jisung’s forehead, just once.

“When you’re bigger,” he replied smugly.

Jisung gasped in offense.

Jaemin turned away before the pup could launch himself again, already moving to rejoin the chaos, fully aware of the white blur that immediately took off after him, determined to prove something.

The moment Jaemin turned his back, the pup took it as an invitation.

He darted forward with a burst of speed that surprised even himself, aiming low this time, smart and finally trying to nip at Jaemin’s back leg the way he’d seen Chenle do to Jeno earlier. His timing was better. His balance, still questionable.

Jaemin felt it immediately.

Not pain. Presence.

His ears flicked back, amber eyes narrowing as he slowed, slightly, just enough to let Jisung think he was winning.

The pup’s excitement surged through the bond, bright and reckless.

“I got you—”

Jaemin pivoted.

In one clean movement, he caught Jisung by the scruff, not hard, not rough, but firm enough that the message landed instantly. The world tilted as Jaemin lifted him just enough to break his momentum, then set him back down on his paws, pinned close to the ground.

The bond shifted.

Play drained out of it, replaced by something deeper. Heavier.

Authority.

Jisung froze.

His ears flattened without him meaning to. His tail slowed, then tucked just a little. His breathing went shallow as instinct kicked in, recognizing the line he’d crossed.

Jaemin leaned down, nose brushing Jisung’s temple.

“Enough,” he said, low and steady. “You push again, and play ends.”

Jisung swallowed.

He tried to lift his head in defiance, but his body betrayed him. His paws slid back. His spine curved inward. The challenge drained out of him like water through sand.

Slowly, very slowly, he lowered himself.

Belly to the ground. Chin resting on his paws.

Surrender.

The clearing went quiet in the way only wolves noticed.

Mark paused mid-step. Renjun flicked an ear but didn’t interfere. Donghyuck watched closely, tail still, scent calm but attentive. 

No one challenged Jaemin. No one needed to.

Jaemin held the position for a heartbeat longer, making sure the lesson settled.

Then he softened.

He released the scruff and licked the top of Jisung’s head once, warm and grounding, unmistakably affectionate. His tail brushed over the pup’s back in a slow sweep.

“Good,” the bond hummed. “That’s it. You’re a good pup.”

Jisung let out a tiny whine, half-embarrassed, half-relieved. His tail gave a hesitant wag, tapping against the ground once, then again. He nudged his nose under Jaemin’s chest without thinking, seeking the closeness he’d just been denied.

Jaemin sighed, long and fond.

He stepped over the pup, positioning himself so Jisung was half-hidden beneath him, a dark shield of fur and muscle. Not pinning anymore, covering.

The pack relaxed as one.

Jisung curled slightly, pressed into Jaemin’s shadow, eyes bright again but calmer now. The wild energy settled, reshaped into something softer.

He’d tested the boundary. Jaemin had drawn the line. And Jisung, for all his mischief, had listened.

Jisung waited exactly three heartbeats.

Then he turned it on.

First came the wide eyes, impossibly blue, lashes lowered just enough to look sorry without looking scared. He lifted his head slowly, chin still tucked, and let out a soft, almost broken little whuff that barely brushed the bond.

“…Hyung…?”

Jaemin felt it like a direct hit to the chest.

The pup scooted forward an inch, then froze, checking. When Jaemin didn’t move him away, Jisung took that as permission and leaned in, pressing his forehead gently into Jaemin’s chest fur. His tail started wagging again, small and careful, thumping once… twice… like he was testing how much forgiveness was allowed.

Then, because he was Jisung, he escalated.

He rolled just enough to expose his belly, fully submissive and vulnerable. His ears tilted forward again, hopeful now.

“I know I messed up,” the bond whispered, warm and earnest. “But I’m good. I’m trying. Please don’t end playtime.”

Jaemin closed his eyes.

This was unfair. Cruel, even.

He lowered his head, nose brushing Jisung’s cheek, breathing him in. The pup smelled like pine needles, berries, and that familiar sweetness that always tugged at something deep in Jaemin’s chest.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jaemin rumbled, not aloud but through the bond, fond and exasperated, already losing.

Jisung took that as a yes.

He wriggled closer, tucking himself fully under Jaemin’s chest now, tail wagging freely as he nuzzled into the alpha’s fur, rubbing his scent there like he was claiming a spot he’d always belonged to. He gave a tiny lick to Jaemin’s jaw, quick, apologetic, affectionate.

The pack felt it.

Donghyuck snorted softly, amused. Mark’s tension eased another notch. Renjun’s mouth twitched. Jeno huffed a quiet laugh through his nose.

Jaemin finally relented.

He bent down and groomed the top of Jisung’s head, slow and deliberate, then the back of his neck. Each pass was a wordless message: forgiven. His tail curled loosely around the pup’s side, anchoring him in place.

“Don’t push me like that again,” the bond warned gently. “But… you did well listening.”

Jisung practically melted.

He went boneless beneath Jaemin, paws twitching, eyes fluttering half-shut as his tail thumped happily against the ground. Pride and relief flooded the bond so strongly it made Jaemin’s chest ache.

The omega heart of the pack, forgiven and safe, tucked right where he wanted to be.

And Jaemin stayed there, letting him have it.

But forgiveness unlocked Jisung’s final form.

The moment Jaemin’s attention eased, even just a fraction, the white pup wriggled free with a happy burst of energy and shot off like a streak of snow across the clearing. His tail flagged high, ears perked, laughter practically spilling through the bond.

Play. Play. Play.

Chenle felt it first and took it as a personal challenge.

He lunged with a delighted growl, paws skidding as he tried to tackle Jisung mid-sprint. Jisung swerved at the last second, light and nimble, darting under Chenle’s chest and popping out behind him just to nip playfully at his tail.

Chenle yelped in offense and immediately gave chase.

Renjun joined without ceremony, cutting in from the side, herding them both toward a fallen log with sharp, clever movements. Jisung nearly ran straight into it before hopping up and over, landing with a triumphant bounce and a wag so hard his whole back end shook.

Jeno followed next, longer strides, eating up ground as he tried to corral the chaos. He didn’t rush Jisung, never did, but angled himself just right, forcing the pup to zigzag until his paws tangled and he tumbled into the grass with a surprised huff.

Before Jeno could even pin him, Donghyuck barreled in.

Not fast. Dramatic.

He flopped dramatically over Jisung, tail flicking, making exaggerated grumbling sounds through the bond about unruly pups and sore joints and how this was why they didn’t get peace. Jisung squeaked and wriggled underneath him, laughing so hard he forgot to breathe, paws batting uselessly at Donghyuck’s chest.

Then, a shadow fell over them.

Mark.

The leader didn’t pounce. He simply stepped in, solid and steady, blocking Jisung’s escape path with one massive foreleg. His tail flicked once, calm and amused.

Jisung froze.

Oh no.

Mark lowered his head and nudged Jisung gently but firmly onto his side, not pinning him, just holding him there with quiet authority. He licked Jisung’s forehead once, slow, grounding and affectionate.

“Careful,” the bond murmured. “You’re still tired.”

Jisung stilled at once.

His breathing slowed. His tail curled in closer. He leaned instinctively into Mark’s chest for half a second before bouncing right back up again, energy only slightly contained now.

Across the clearing, Jaemin watched it all.

Watched Jisung weave effortlessly between them, sparking play, drawing laughter, easing tension as it had never been there. Watched how each of them responded to him differently, instinctively and lovingly.

The pack felt lighter with him like this.

Alive.

When Jisung finally circled back, panting, eyes bright, fur a mess, Jaemin stepped forward and caught him by the scruff just long enough to tug him close and nuzzle his head.

“Enough,” the bond said fondly.

Jisung didn’t fight it this time.

He leaned in, tail still wagging, heart loud and happy in the space between them,
the undeniable center the pack kept orbiting around.

The clearing settles again, not into silence, but into something softer.

Jaemin eases Jisung down between his forelegs, the black wolf curling instinctively around the smaller body. His posture shifts, no longer playful, no longer corrective, just caretaker. Protector. Anchor.

He starts grooming without thinking.

Slow, thorough licks over Jisung’s crown first, smoothing down the mussed white fur between his ears. Jisung melts immediately. His spine goes slack, paws curling in toward his chest as soft, pleased sounds slip through the bond. Every pass of Jaemin’s tongue grounds him further, pulling the last of that frantic energy out and replacing it with warmth and safety.

Jaemin moves carefully, ears and cheeks, the back of Jisung’s neck where his scent is strongest. He lingers there, breathing him in, reinforcing what they both already know.

You’re safe. You’re mine to guard.

Jisung presses closer, nosing at Jaemin’s chest, tail giving lazy little thumps against the ground. When Jaemin reaches his shoulders, Jisung tips fully onto his side, exposing his belly in quiet, unquestioning trust.

Jaemin pauses.

Then, with a huff of fond amusement, he continues, gentler now, deliberate. The pup hums.

Not far from them, Donghyuck has claimed his own target.

Mark barely has time to settle before Donghyuck is climbing half into his space, grooming him with determined affection. His licks are firm, almost scolding, focused on Mark’s muzzle and neck, right where tension gathers when the leader worries too much.

Mark exhales.

His shoulders loosen under Donghyuck’s attention, the tight coil in his chest finally unwinding. He leans in, resting his chin briefly over Donghyuck’s back in return, scent brushing scent, bond settling into its steady, reassuring rhythm.

We’re okay, Donghyuck insists through every motion. The pack is whole.

A few steps away, the rest of the pack has collapsed into an unintentional, but inevitable, pile.

Renjun lies stretched on his side, sharp eyes half-lidded now, his back pressed to Jeno’s chest. Jeno curls around him protectively, one foreleg draped over his shoulders, breathing slow and even. 

Chenle is wedged between them, smaller than he likes to admit, head tucked under Jeno’s chin, tail wrapped tight around his own legs. The earlier guilt still clings faintly to him, but it’s fading, soothed by Jeno’s steady presence and Renjun’s calm acceptance.

He lets out a long, shuddering breath.

Finally calm.

Finally still.

The clearing is filled with quiet sounds, breathing, the rasp of tongues through fur, the low hum of a bonded pack resting together after danger and fear and relief.

At the center of it all, Jisung shifts closer in his sleep, nose tucked against Jaemin’s chest, small and warm and utterly content.

And the pack, without needing to say it, adjusts around him.

☽

As the sun climbed higher, the forest stirred with it. Dawn washed over the snow-laced woods in pale gold, light spilling softly into the river clearing and turning frost into glitter. The air hummed alive, settled and content. It was the kind of morning that felt earned.

The pack sensed it before they truly saw it.

The territory vibrated with health and warmth, the bond shifting from moon-deep intensity into something brighter and steadier.

Mark was the first to lift his head as sunlight warmed his muzzle. He blinked against the glow, then huffed low through the bond before rising and giving himself a full-body shake, sending snowflakes scattering from his fur.

“Alright,” he said as he stretched, joints popping. “That’s enough moon for one night.”

Beside him, his omega groaned and rolled onto his side, tail flicking irritably against the ground.  “Five more minutes,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Renjun lifted his head with a long yawn. “You say that every time.”

Nearby, Renjun had been half-trapped between two overly clingy alphas. When he finally wriggled free to stretch and greet Mark, both Jeno and Chenle grumbled awake in protest. Jeno stretched lazily just as Chenle shook out his fur, snow spraying everywhere and landing squarely on Jeno’s back.

They stared at each other for a beat.

Then Jeno snapped playfully, lunging forward and pinning Chenle with ease.

“I didn’t mean to!” Chenle laughed, paws flailing uselessly as his apology dissolved into giggles.

Jaemin stirred then, blinking awake to the familiar chaos of his pack starting the day exactly as they always did. His gaze softened as it dropped to the warm weight curled against his chest.

Jisung lay sprawled in the middle of his dark fur, paws tipped up, tongue peeking out, utterly knocked out and boneless with sleep.

Jaemin nudged him gently with his muzzle. “Wake up, pup,” he murmured, voice low and sweet.

Jisung let out a soft whine and immediately burrowed deeper into Jaemin’s black fur, seeking warmth and safety without even opening his eyes.

The alpha huffed, warmth and amusement rolling off him, and dipped his head to nip gently behind the pup’s ear, right at the spot.

Jisung’s hind leg immediately betrayed him, twitching and then kicking in helpless little jerks. A string of soft, pleased noises slipped out of his throat before he could stop them. Jaemin followed it up with a few slow, grounding licks, grooming him with deliberate care.

That finally did it.

Jisung’s sky-blue eyes fluttered open as he yawned wide, stretching clumsily against Jaemin’s chest.

“Mm… ’morning,” he mumbled sleepily.

Jaemin straightened, tail flicking as he rose, watching him with quiet fondness.

Jaemin lingered a moment longer, making sure the pup was fully awake before pulling away. The bond hummed soft and steady between them, warm as the early light spilling through the trees.

“Up,” Jaemin urged gently, nudging Jisung’s side with his nose. “Sun’s already judging us.”

Jisung groaned, rolling onto his back in dramatic protest, paws flopping uselessly in the air. 

“Too early,” his presence whined through the bond, thick with sleep and comfort. “I was having a good dream.”

Jaemin snorted. “You always are.”

They regrouped by the river’s edge, where their packs and clothes had been left in a neat, deliberate pile the night before. Morning mist hovered over the water, thin and silver. 

Jeno did a quick patrol around the clearing and then came back. “It’s clear, we can shift.”

One by one, they did.

Mark shifted first, the change rolling through him smoothly, practiced and controlled. He stood human again by the water, stretching his shoulders as if nothing extraordinary had happened at all.

Renjun followed, calm as ever. Jeno soon after, rubbing at his eyes and immediately reaching for his hoodie. Chenle shifted in a rush, limbs tangling for a second before he popped upright, already yawning and complaining.

Jaemin then shifted smoothly and controlled as always, walking to his backpack to dress up.

Donghyuck was last among them, shifting with a soft sigh before immediately drifting toward Mark, half-asleep on his feet. 

“I’m starving again,” he mumbled.

Mark hummed as he wrapped a jacket over his mate and eased his messy chocolate hair. Donghyuck tiptoed to give him a peck.

The alpha healer watched them, and before he knew, he was looking at the pup, who was standing a few steps away from the water.

Jisung’s small body was tense, ears flicking as if the dawn itself made him nervous. His tail swayed uncertainly behind him. He tried, Jaemin felt it through the bond, that strained push inward, the effort to fold himself back into skin and bone, but it stuttered, slipped, refused.

The wolf remained.

Jaemin stepped closer, crouching in front of him. “Hey,” he murmured gently, “it’s okay. Take your time.”

Jisung whined, soft and embarrassed, lowering his head. “I can’t. It feels… stuck,” he said through the bond.

Donghyuck noticed then, his movements stalling as he looked over. “Still wolf?” he asked quietly.

Jaemin nodded once. “He’s exhausted.”

Mark approached too, gaze thoughtful. “It’s the full moon,” he said softly. “Sometimes the body holds on a little longer. Especially if the shift was rough.”

Chenle tilted his head. “So… he’s stuck?”

“No,” Renjun corrected. “Just not ready yet.”

Jisung’s ears flattened at all the attention. He padded closer to Jaemin instinctively, pressing his side against the alpha’s leg like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jaemin didn’t move away.

“We can walk him home like this,” Jeno offered. “It’s not far.”

Mark nodded. “That’s the plan, then.”

Donghyuck crouched and opened his arms instinctively, only to stop himself when he realized Jisung was still a wolf. “…Can I hug him like this, or is that weird?”

Jisung immediately shoved his head into Donghyuck’s chest.

“Oh,” Donghyuck melted. “Never mind. I’m hugging him.”

They packed up without fuss, shouldering backpacks and adjusting straps, instinctively slowing to match Jisung’s pace. Jaemin never strayed from his side. One steady hand rested at the scruff of Jisung’s neck whenever the path dipped, or roots broke the ground; it was anchoring and protective, a quiet promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

The walk back was hushed.

Jisung padded close to them, brushing against calves and knees, pausing now and then to sniff at the air or the earth, only to be gently nudged forward again. The adrenaline of the night had long since burned out; by the time the house finally emerged between the trees, his steps had turned heavy, paws dragging, body aching with exhaustion.

He still didn’t shift.

Not yet.

Then the scent of home reached him, warm wood, familiar fabric, his pack layered deep and undeniable. It hit him like lightning under the skin. Something inside him unlocked. The pull to return, to belong, to be together surged all at once.

Mark turned then, already smiling, his presence calm and sure. “You’re safe,” he said softly. “Come on, pup.”

The alpha’s scent wrapped around him, keen, steady, leader-strong, and Jisung let go.

The shift burned, sharp and fleeting, nerves flaring before settling into place. He barely had time to steady himself before a blanket was around his shoulders, warm and immediate. Jaemin crouched to wrap him up with careful hands.

“Welcome back, Sungie,” Jaemin murmured, his scent grounding and familiar as home itself.

Jisung looked up at him, tired and glowing all the same. “Hi,” he said, smiling.

They filed into the house and let the night finally end, boots were kicked off, backpacks dropped, layers shrugged away. Everyone unpacked just enough to make the space livable again before Jaemin peeled off toward his apothecary, already in healer mode, shelves and jars calling to him.

By the time he returned, Jisung was curled up on the couch, limbs tucked in tight and eyes already drooping. Jaemin balanced six steaming mugs on a tray, one of them noticeably warmer than the rest, steam curling lazily into the air.

He set them down one by one, the familiar ritual grounding the room.

“This is my Full Moon’s Death Rising,” Jaemin explained as he passed the cups around, also setting out the supplements each of them needed. “It helps with sore muscles, built-up tension, and pain too, if any of you are feeling it.”

Low hums of approval rippled through the pack.

When Jaemin reached Jisung, the pup pushed himself up just enough to sniff at the mug, nose wrinkling with interest. His curiosity cut through the sleepiness immediately.

“This one’s new?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Jaemin replied, settling beside him and lifting his own cup. “I added honey to yours.”

Jisung’s ears perked, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he accepted the mug with both hands.

“Good,” he murmured, clearly pleased, then leaned back into the couch, cradling the warmth like it was something precious.

Once Mark finished his tea and swallowed the last of his supplements, he set the mug aside and clapped his hands once, sharp enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“Alright,” he said, voice steady, all alpha now. “Jeno and I are heading out to tear down the traps we found last night.” Jeno was already on his feet, nodding without hesitation. Mark turned to Renjun next. “Call my father. Let him know what’s happening and where the traps were placed.”

Renjun inclined his head, already reaching for his phone. “On it.”

Then Mark looked at their healer. “Do your usual checkups with them. We’ll be back later so you can do ours too.”

Jaemin hummed in acknowledgment, already gathering the empty mugs, calm and efficient as ever.

Mark and Jeno were gone moments later, slipping out the door and shifting just beyond the porch. Paws hit the ground, bodies rolling into muscle and fur as they disappeared into the trees with purpose.

Chenle lingered by the open doorway, watching them go, shoulders slumping just a little.

Renjun stepped closer and rested a gentle hand on his head. “Don’t pout,” he said quietly. “You know you’re still young.”

Chenle grumbled under his breath, ears metaphorically flattening. “I know,” he muttered. “He’s just… protecting me.”

“Exactly,” Renjun replied, warm and patient.

Jaemin’s attention drifted back to the living room then, and softened instantly when he spotted Jisung. The pup was fully asleep again on the couch, curled into himself, mug forgotten but still warm in his hands.

A small laugh slipped from Jaemin before he could stop it.

“Alright,” he said gently, turning back to the others, healer's voice slipping into place. “Come on. Checkups, everyone.”

Jaemin moved with practiced ease, the familiar rhythm of a healer settling over him as naturally as breathing. He set his bag down on the low table and rolled his shoulders once, scent shifting. 

Clean herbs, warm earth, reassurance.

“Renjun, you’re first,” he said calmly.

Renjun came over without complaint, sitting on the floor in front of him. Jaemin started with the basics: fingers warm as they checked pulse at the wrist, then slid up to Renjun’s neck and shoulders, pressing gently, searching for tension or lingering strain from the hunt.

“You pushed harder than you should’ve,” Jaemin murmured, thumbs working into a tight knot near his collarbone.

Renjun winced, then relaxed. “Someone had to keep Chenle from doing something stupid.”

From the couch, Chenle scoffed. “I did nothing.”

Jaemin snorted softly but didn’t look up. “You almost always do something,” he replied, then nodded once, satisfied. “Minor tension. Drink the rest of your tea and stretch later.”

Renjun hummed and shifted aside, going upstairs to the pack’s office.

Donghyuck was next, dropping down with a dramatic sigh, practically flopping at Jaemin’s feet.

“I’m dying,” he announced.

“You’re always dying,” Jaemin said fondly, hands already moving.

He was checking joints, ribs, and shoulders, then pressing lightly along Donghyuck’s spine. The omega relaxed almost immediately, scent loosening, warmth spreading. 

“But very attractively.”

“You’re fine.” Jaemin rolled his eyes. “Little strain in your hips from the sprint, nothing a hot bath won’t fix.”

“See? Told you.” Donghyuck grinned, already slipping out of the room to have his bath.

Chenle bounded over next, barely able to stay still. Jaemin caught him by the wrists before he could wriggle away.

“Sit,” he ordered gently.

Chenle tried. Failed. Tried again.

Jaemin checked him anyway, quick but thorough. Pulse fast but steady, muscles springy, no injuries. He pinched Chenle’s cheek lightly.

“Perfectly healthy,” Jaemin concluded. “And absolutely impossible.”

Chenle beamed. “So I can go run?”

“No.”

Chenle deflated, walking to the yard ready to play basketball. 

“And now,” Jaemin said, turning toward the couch, voice softening immediately, “my patient.”

Jisung was barely awake. His lashes fluttered when Jaemin knelt beside him, but he didn’t sit up, didn’t protest, just rolled onto his side and, without thinking, offered his wrist. The motion was automatic.

Trusting.

Something warm and tight settled in Jaemin’s chest.

He took his time with the checkup this time. Slower. More careful.

Jisung’s pulse was steady but heavier than it should’ve been, each beat dragging slightly. When Jaemin slid his hands over the pup’s shoulders, he felt it immediately, muscles stiff, holding tension they hadn’t let go of yet. His fingers traced down Jisung’s spine, along his ribs, searching.

Jisung flinched.

Jaemin froze. “Hey,” he said softly. “Here?”

Jisung nodded weakly, brow furrowing as if even that was an effort. “Mhm… everything feels heavy.”

Jaemin eased his touch at once, scent shifting unconsciously. It was calm, grounding, and protective. He checked again, gentler now. No swelling. No injury. Just deep, lingering strain, the kind that sank into bone instead of muscle.

“How tired are you?” Jaemin asked quietly.

Jisung’s eyes cracked open, glassy with sleep. “Really tired,” he whispered. “Like… I could sleep for days.” His voice dipped lower. “Is that bad?”

Jaemin didn’t answer right away.

He brushed Jisung’s hair back from his forehead, thumb lingering at his temple, mind already turning. Post-shift exhaustion was normal. So was soreness. But this… this bone-deep heaviness, this pull toward sleep so strong it felt like gravity, and it made something itch at the back of his thoughts.

“No,” Jaemin said finally, carefully. “Not bad.” He let a little warmth bleed into the bond, enough to soothe without pushing. “But it is something I want to keep an eye on.”

Jisung seemed satisfied with that. His shoulders dropped, tension finally easing as if permission had been granted.

“I feel safe,” he mumbled, words already slurring.

Jaemin smiled faintly, though worry lingered behind his eyes. “Good. That’s exactly where you are.”

He pulled the blanket up around Jisung, tucking it snug beneath his chin. Jisung’s fingers caught in Jaemin’s sleeve again, a loose, sleepy grip that tightened just enough to ask him not to go.

Jaemin stayed.

He rested a hand over Jisung’s shoulder, feeling the slow, heavy rhythm of his breathing even out, listening through the bond as the pup sank deeper into rest, too fast and deeply.

Jaemin watched him a moment longer than necessary, thoughts quiet but alert.

Why are you so tired, little one?

☽

After a while, he brushed his knuckles gently along Jisung’s cheek. “Hey, pup,” he murmured. “We need to get you a bath.”

One eye cracked open.

“…no.”

Jaemin blinked. Once. “Yes.”

Jisung rolled onto his stomach, hugging the couch pillow like it was a life raft. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know,” Jaemin said patiently. “That’s why we’re bathing. Warm water. Helps your muscles.”

A beat.

Then Jisung let out a long, miserable whine. “I don’t wanna.”

Jaemin snorted despite himself. “You’re covered in blood, sweat, and forest. You absolutely want to.”

“No, I don’t,” Jisung muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. He kicked one leg weakly. “I’ll melt.”

“You will not melt.”

“I will die.”

Jaemin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jisung.”

The pup responded by pulling the blanket over his head.

That’s when the tantrum truly began.

Jisung wriggled like an eel when Jaemin tried to lift him, all limbs and stubborn resistance. He clung to the couch cushions with surprising strength, groaning dramatically as if being carried to his execution instead of a bathtub.

“Five more minutes,” he pleaded.

“You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Then… ten more five minutes.”

Jaemin huffed, tightening his hold before Jisung could slip free. “You’re not negotiating.”

Jisung immediately went limp.

Dead weight. Full commitment.

Jaemin nearly lost his balance. “Oh, absolutely not. Don’t you dare.”

“I can’t walk,” Jisung said faintly. “My legs are broken.”

“They were fine thirty seconds ago.”

“That was before you mentioned the bath.”

Jaemin shifted him onto his hip, holding him there despite the dramatic flopping. 

“You are unbelievable.”

Jisung’s lower lip trembled, just a little. His eyes went glossy. 

“It’s cold.”

Jaemin froze.

…Oh. That wasn’t acting.

He adjusted his grip instantly, pulling Jisung closer, scent softening again without permission. 

“The water will be warm,” he said more gently. “I’ll stay with you.”

Jisung sniffed. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

“…You won’t let go?”

Jaemin pressed his forehead briefly against Jisung’s hair. “I won’t.”

That seemed to drain the last of the fight out of him.

Jisung still grumbled the entire way down the hall, complaining about the light, the floor, the audacity of soap, but he didn’t struggle anymore. By the time Jaemin set him on the edge of the tub, Jisung was slumped against him, eyes half-closed again.

Jaemin turned the water on, testing it carefully before guiding Jisung’s hand under the stream. “See? Warm.”

Jisung hummed, shoulders loosening despite himself.

“…okay,” he mumbled. “But if I fall asleep, it’s your fault.”

Jaemin smiled, soft and fond and just a little worried. “I’ll take responsibility.”

Jaemin kept his movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might startle the pup back into resistance.

He helped Jisung step into the tub, one hand firm at his waist, the other steadying his shoulders. The moment the warm water hit his skin, Jisung let out a soft, involuntary sigh, his whole body sagging like he’d been waiting for permission to relax.

“There,” Jaemin murmured. “See?”

Jisung nodded weakly, eyes already drooping. “Mhm… s’good.”

Jaemin smiled and reached for the shampoo.

“Head back,” he instructed gently.

Jisung obeyed without argument, tilting his head back against Jaemin’s chest. His eyes slid shut as warm water soaked through his hair, darkening it, washing away the last traces of blood and forest. Jaemin undid the braids Donghyuck made yesterday. His fingers followed, careful and practiced as he worked shampoo into Jisung’s scalp.

Slow. Circular. Grounding.

Jisung melted.

A tiny sound slipped from his throat, half hum and half purr, that made Jaemin pause for half a second before continuing, a little more tender than before.

“That spot?” Jaemin teased softly.

Jisung nodded again, barely there. “Y’found it…”

Jaemin rinsed his hair thoroughly, one hand shielding Jisung’s eyes, then repeated the process with conditioner, fingers combing through gently, untangling knots without pulling. He massaged Jisung’s scalp a bit longer than strictly necessary, watching the tension drain from his shoulders, from his jaw, from the tight set of his hands.

When he finally rinsed it out, Jisung looked half-asleep.

Jaemin guided him through the rest just as patiently, washing his arms, his back, carefully cleaning under his nails where dirt had gathered. He lingered on sore spots, thumbs pressing lightly where muscles were still tight, easing them loose.

“You’re doing really well,” Jaemin said quietly, more reassurance than commentary.

Jisung cracked one eye open. “I am?”

“You are.”

That was enough.

Once they were done, Jaemin wrapped him up immediately in the warmest towel he could find, pulling the hood over Jisung’s damp hair and rubbing gently until his skin pinked with heat again.

“Okay,” he said. “Skincare.”

Jisung blinked at him. “What.”

Jaemin ignored the look and sat him down on the closed toilet lid. “Face wash first.”

Jisung didn’t protest. He just let Jaemin tilt his chin up, let the cool cleanser smooth over his cheeks and nose, and let the soft towel dab him dry afterward. When Jaemin followed with moisturizer, warming it between his palms first, Jisung sighed again and leaned into the touch like a sleepy kitten.

“You spoil me,” he mumbled.

“Yes,” Jaemin agreed calmly. “That is the point.”

He dressed Jisung himself when the pup got too slow, tugging sleeves over long arms, adjusting the collar so it didn’t bunch up, pulling the hood over damp hair. Jisung cooperated completely, arms lifting when prompted, head ducking when asked, eyes half-lidded and trusting.

When Jaemin was done, he stepped back to inspect his work.

Jisung was swallowed whole by soft fabric, sleeves hanging past his hands, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. His hair looked soft and healthy, his curls fluffy and his freckles standing out more. He looked warm. Safe. Very, very spoiled.

Jaemin felt something settle in his chest.

“There,” he said softly. “Perfect.”

Jisung smiled at him, small, sleepy and content. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Jaemin’s stomach.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Jaemin rested a hand on his head, fingers threading through clean, soft hair. “Anytime, pup.”

And for once, Jisung didn’t even try to hide how much he loved it.

“Hyung…” Jisung murmured. 

His warm fingers curled weakly into the hem of Jaemin’s sleeve, tugging once, unsure, like the request itself was an accident.

Jaemin froze.

He looked down to find the pup already half gone, lashes resting against his cheeks, breath slow and heavy. His grip tightened just a little, knuckles brushing Jaemin’s wrist as if anchoring himself without knowing why.

“Don’t… go yet,” Jisung mumbled, words slurring together. “Please.”

Jaemin’s heart stuttered.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he said gently, though Jisung was already drifting again. “Lie down.”

Jisung obeyed immediately, curling onto his side, hoodie bunching under his chin. But he didn’t let go. When Jaemin tried to shift, Jisung followed blindly, scooting closer until his forehead bumped into Jaemin’s ribs.

Warm. Familiar.

Safe.

Jaemin exhaled slowly and sat on the edge of the bed instead, easing his weight down so he wouldn’t pull away. He adjusted the blankets over Jisung, tucking them around his shoulders, then hesitated before carefully slipping his hand into Jisung’s hair.

The pup made a small, satisfied sound.

“There,” Jaemin whispered, brushing his thumb gently along Jisung’s temple. “Sleep.”

Jisung’s fingers loosened their hold on Jaemin’s sleeve, but only to slide lower, resting against his wrist instead. His breathing evened out, deep and steady, body finally giving in to the exhaustion he’d been fighting since dawn.

Jaemin stayed.

He counted breaths. Watched the slow rise and fall of Jisung’s chest. Let his scent soften, wrap gently around the room, a quiet promise of presence and protection.

Minutes passed. Maybe more.

Jisung shifted once in his sleep, nose scrunching and then, without waking, he pressed closer, seeking warmth, seeking him.

Jaemin’s hand stilled over his hair.

“…I’ve got you,” he murmured, barely louder than the hum of the house.

☽

Jaemin waited until he was sure.

Jisung’s breathing had settled into that deep, boneless rhythm, the kind that meant his body had finally stopped fighting the exhaustion. His grip had loosened completely now, fingers slack against the blanket, face soft in sleep. The bond was calm. Warm. Quiet.

Only then did Jaemin move.

Slowly. Carefully. Like the smallest wrong step might wake him.

He eased his hand out of Jisung’s hair, paused when the pup shifted, then waited again until the moment passed. He tucked the blankets more securely around him, pressed a light kiss to the crown of his head.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered.

It felt like a lie, even though it wasn’t.

Jaemin slipped out of the room and pulled the door almost closed, just enough that the light from the hallway didn’t spill in. He stayed there for a second longer than necessary, hand still on the frame, fighting the instinct to turn around.

Then duty pulled him away.

Jisung woke up to silence.

Not the good kind.

The room was dim, curtains drawn, the air cool against his skin. For half a second, he was still wrapped in sleep, mind hazy, until he reached out instinctively and felt nothing but empty sheets.

His heart stuttered.

“…Hyung?” His voice came out thin, wrong.

No answer.

The bond felt different now, still there, but distant. Like someone had stepped just out of reach. Panic bloomed fast and sharp, catching him off guard before he could stop it.

Jaemin had been here.

He sat up too quickly, dizziness washing over him as his chest tightened. The blankets slid down his shoulders, suddenly too heavy, too much. His throat burned.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He hadn’t meant to ask him to stay. He hadn’t meant to need him that badly.

Jisung rubbed at his eyes, frustrated when they came away wet anyway.

“It’s stupid,” he whispered to the empty room, voice cracking. “I’m fine. I’m—”

Another sob slipped out before he could swallow it.

His scent spiked, sharp with abandonment and raw emotion, curling through the room in messy waves. He curled in on himself, knees to his chest, fingers twisting in the oversized sleeves Jaemin had chosen for him.

He hated how small he felt. He hated how much it hurt.

What if Jaemin thought he was too much? What if he’d stayed out of obligation? What if—

Jisung didn’t even realize it was happening.

The emotion hit first, sharp and overwhelming, flooding his chest too fast for his body to keep up. His breath hitched, fingers curling uselessly into the blanket, confusion tangling with fear and that aching, childlike need that had nowhere to go.

Then his body reacted.

A soft rustle came from behind him.

Jisung gasped.

White fur spilled into existence at the base of his spine, fluffy and unmistakable, his tail flicking once in startled reflex before curling tight against his leg. A second later, pressure bloomed at the top of his head, warm and strange, and his wolf ears pushed through his hair, twitching wildly.

“What—?” His voice cracked as he reached up, fingertips brushing soft fur instead of skin.

His breath stuttered. Panic flared.

“I—I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, eyes wide, staring at his hands like they belonged to someone else. “I’m not— I wasn’t trying to—”

The door opened again.

Jaemin had only been gone a few minutes. And now he was facing this situation. 

A half-shifted Jisung. 

But it was okay. They could deal with it because they were The Dream Pack. 

☽