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The penthouse was unusually quiet for a home that once woke up to stylists, managers, backup dancers, and the constant thrum of schedules packed down to the minute. These days, the silence was broken only by soft babbling, the padding of tiny feet on polished floors, and the occasional sharp clang of something that absolutely should not have been thrown.
Zoey was seated on the living room floor. the floor, despite the fact that there was a perfectly good designer couch less than a meter away her legs folded awkwardly as she let one of her daughters chew on the ring of her finger.
“Hey, hey, no teeth,” Zoey murmured, though she didn’t pull away. Her voice was soft, low, nothing like the commanding tone fans remembered from the stage. “Appa needs that finger.”
The twin giggled, gummy and delighted, her tiny hands gripping Zoey’s knuckle like it was the most precious thing in the world. Her sister toddled nearby, dragging a plushie nearly as big as her torso across imported marble flooring that cost more than Zoey’s first trainee dorm.
This was Huntrix’s hiatus.
Once upon a time, headlines had screamed their name. global phenomenon, unstoppable, industry-breaking. Now the official statement was simple: temporary hiatus due to family matters. Fans speculated, media buzzed, but inside the penthouse, all that mattered was that two one-year-olds were discovering gravity and Zoey’s sanity was hanging by a thread.
Rumi sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through her tablet with the calm efficiency of someone who had already accepted motherhood as a full-time occupation. Mira leaned against the counter beside her, sipping tea and watching Zoey with fond amusement.
“You’re letting her gnaw on you again,” Mira said lightly.
Zoey glanced down at the drool gathering on her finger. “She’s teething.”
“She’s using you.”
“She’s my daughter.”
Rumi smiled without looking up. “You said that when she tried to eat your necklace too.”
“That necklace was a choking hazard.”
“That necklace cost—”
“—not relevant.”
The twin in Zoey’s arms finally lost interest and slid off her lap, waddling unsteadily toward her sister. Zoey’s hands hovered instinctively, ready to catch her if she fell. She didn’t but Zoey stayed tense anyway, alpha instincts permanently switched on since the day the twins were born.
Mira set her mug down. “So.”
Zoey stiffened. Experience had taught her that when Mira said so like that, something was coming. Something she was not emotionally prepared for.
Rumi finally looked up. “I made an appointment.”
Zoey blinked. “For…?”
Mira and Rumi exchanged a glance. A look. The kind that used to mean choreography changes or secret songwriting sessions. Now it meant coordinated parenting decisions.
“For the girls,” Rumi said. “Ear piercing.”
The world did not end. The penthouse did not collapse. No alarms went off. And yet Zoey felt like someone had just shoved her off a stage without a harness.
“…What.”
Mira nodded. “Today.”
Zoey stared at them. Then she laughed once. short and incredulous. “No.”
Rumi raised an eyebrow. “Zoey.”
“They’re babies,” Zoey said, immediately standing up like this was a battle she needed to physically brace for. “They’re one. They can’t even pronounce their own names.”
“They don’t need to,” Mira replied calmly. “It’s common. Safe. We already checked.”
“I jumped off buildings for a living,” Zoey shot back. “I am not afraid of earrings.”
“You look afraid of earrings.”
“I am concerned. It’s different.”
Rumi tapped her tablet, turning it around to show photos tiny gold studs, simple, delicate. “It’ll be quick. Professional pediatric place. Sterile.”
Zoey’s eyes flicked to the screen and then immediately to the twins, who had just discovered Zoey’s earrings and were now tugging at them with fascination.
“See?” Mira said softly. “They already like them.”
Zoey gently pried small fingers away from her ear. “They like shiny objects. They also like electrical outlets.”
“That’s different.”
“How.”
Rumi sighed, amused. “Zoey, you’ve faced crowds of fifty thousand people. You’ve survived idol scandals, injuries, world tours.”
“Yes,” Zoey said firmly. “And none of those things cried in my arms.”
The twins chose that moment to toddle back over, pressing themselves against Zoey’s legs. One grabbed onto her pants. The other raised her arms.
Zoey melted instantly, scooping them up one on each hip, like she’d been built for this. “You’re plotting against Appa, aren’t you,” she murmured, kissing their hair. “You’re using cuteness as a weapon.”
Mira smiled. “Effective, isn’t it?”
Zoey buried her face briefly into one tiny shoulder, inhaling that warm, milky scent that made her chest ache. “I don’t like it,” she admitted quietly.
Rumi softened. “We know.”
“But you’re doing it anyway.”
“Yes.”
Zoey exhaled slowly. Her alpha instincts were pacing, growling, restless but she trusted Mira and Rumi more than her fear.
“…I’m coming,” Zoey said at last.
Mira laughed. “Of course you are.”
Zoey tightened her hold on the twins. “And if they cry—”
“They might,” Rumi said gently.
Zoey swallowed. “—then I’m allowed to cry too.”
Mira leaned over and kissed her cheek. “We wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Outside, Seoul moved on without Huntrix. Inside the penthouse, an alpha prepared herself for a battle she could not fight with strength alone.
The private elevator descended in near silence, glass walls revealing the city slowly shrinking beneath them. Seoul stretched endlessly familiar, loud, alive yet strangely distant now that Huntrix no longer belonged to it the way they once had.
Zoey stood stiffly in the center of the elevator, one hand gripping the stroller, the other hovering too close to Haneul’s head like the city itself might suddenly attack. Areum sat beside her sister, happily gnawing on a silicone toy, blissfully unaware that she was on her way to emotionally destroying her alpha.
“You’re going to wear a hole in her hair if you keep staring,” Mira said gently.
Zoey tore her gaze away. “I’m being observant.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Rumi corrected, adjusting the girls’ hats. “They’re fine.”
Haneul chose that moment to squeal, arms flailing with excitement as the elevator slowed. Zoey immediately crouched. “What? What happened?”
Nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing.
Areum laughed at Zoey’s panic, clapping her hands like this was the best show she’d seen all day.
Mira smiled. “See? They think this is fun.”
Zoey straightened, jaw tight. “That’s because they don’t know.”
The elevator doors opened into the private parking level. Their car waited black, unmarked, expensive in the way only people trying not to draw attention could manage. Years ago, a van would’ve been packed with staff and managers. Today, it was just the five of them.
Huntrix on hiatus.
Zoey secured the twins into their car seats herself, double-checking every strap like the laws of physics might change without warning. Haneul kicked her feet happily. Areum reached out, fingers brushing Zoey’s wrist.
“You buckle like you’re defusing a bomb,” Rumi observed.
Zoey didn’t look up. “This is a precision task.”
Once they were on the road, the city blurred past the windows. Zoey drove. Mira sat in the passenger seat. Rumi stayed in the back with the twins, soft murmurs filling the car.
Zoey kept glancing into the rearview mirror.
Haneul was watching the world outside with wide eyes, humming softly to herself. Areum had already dropped her toy and was attempting to retrieve it with fierce concentration.
“They’re calm,” Mira said.
“For now.”
Mira reached over, resting her hand on Zoey’s thigh. “You’re tense.”
“I’m alert.”
“You’re bracing for impact.”
Zoey exhaled sharply through her nose. “I’ve jumped off buildings with less anxiety.”
Rumi laughed softly from the back. “You knew exactly when you’d land then.”
Zoey swallowed. “I don’t know when they’ll cry.”
As if summoned by fate, Areum let out a small frustrated whine when her toy slipped further out of reach. Zoey’s heart leapt into her throat.
“It’s okay, Areum,” Rumi soothed, retrieving it easily.
The whine turned into a giggle. Crisis averted.
Zoey’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Mira squeezed her thigh reassuringly.
“Rumi,” Zoey said quietly, eyes still on the road. “You’re sure about this place?”
Rumi smiled. “Recommended by three idols, two dancers, and one pediatric nurse.”
Zoey grimaced. “That’s too many people.”
“It’s good,” Mira added. “Professional. Quick.”
“Quick still hurts.”
The car slowed at a red light. Zoey watched her own reflection in the windshield strong jaw, familiar face fans adored for its intensity on stage. Funny how none of that mattered now.
In the mirror, Haneul caught Zoey’s eye and smiled. A slow, gummy grin. Areum followed suit, babbling something nonsensical.
Zoey felt her chest ache.
“I hate that I can’t explain it to them,” she admitted quietly. “They won’t understand why it hurts.”
“They’ll understand comfort,” Rumi said gently. “That part you’re very good at.”
Zoey scoffed softly. “I’m going to lose it.”
Mira smiled. “You already have.”
The piercing studio came into view. Clean signage, pastel colors, far too cheerful for what Zoey considered a war zone.
She parked slowly. Too slowly.
Zoey killed the engine but didn’t move.
Rumi tilted her head. “Zoey.”
Zoey closed her eyes. Took one steadying breath.
“I am an alpha,” she muttered. “I have protected my pack through worse.”
Mira leaned in and kissed her cheek. “And today you protect them by holding them.”
Zoey opened the door.
The twins babbled happily as they were lifted from the car, unaware that Appa was walking into the most emotionally devastating mission of her life.
The piercing studio was… cheerful.
That was the first thing Zoey hated about it.
Pastel walls. Soft lighting. A faint scent of disinfectant layered under something sweet and calming. Little decals of clouds and stars on the walls designed, she realized, to distract children from the very thing she wished she could destroy with her bare hands.
“This place is too happy,” Zoey muttered.
Mira snorted quietly. “You’re projecting.”
Rumi checked them in at the counter, voice calm and polite, answering questions Zoey barely registered. Zoey stood off to the side with Haneul in her arms, Areum perched on Mira’s hip. Both twins were curious, heads swiveling as they took in the unfamiliar environment.
Haneul reached out toward a wall decal. Areum babbled happily at a passing staff member.
They were fine.
Zoey was not.
“Hi!” the piercer greeted, smiling warmly. “These must be Haneul and Areum.”
Zoey stiffened instantly. They know their names. This was real now.
The piercer crouched to their level, voice gentle. “We’ll be very quick, okay?”
Zoey’s jaw tightened. “How quick.”
The piercer paused, clearly clocking Zoey’s tone. “Uh—just a moment. We do one ear at a time. Very clean. Very safe.”
Zoey nodded once, sharp. “Good.”
They were led to a small room with two chairs. One was clearly for the piercer. The other
Zoey’s stomach dropped.
The holding chair.
Rumi sat Haneul down briefly to adjust her jacket. Mira bounced Areum gently. Zoey hovered, restless, scanning the room like threats might appear from the walls.
The piercer pulled on gloves. “Okay, so one parent needs to hold the baby securely. Chest to chest, arms gently pinned so they don’t flail.”
Zoey froze.
Rumi and Mira both turned to look at her at the exact same time.
“No,” Zoey said immediately.
Mira blinked. “Zoey.”
“I can’t—no. I’ll stand. I’ll watch. I’ll—”
“Zoey,” Rumi said gently but firmly, lifting Haneul. “You’re the strongest.”
“That’s not—”
“And the calmest,” (doubt it) Mira added, placing Areum into Zoey’s arms before she could react.
Zoey made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a protest.
Areum settled instantly against her chest, tiny fingers gripping Zoey’s shirt. She smelled warm and familiar and safe. Zoey’s arms wrapped around her automatically, alpha instincts locking in before her brain could catch up.
“This is a mistake,” Zoey whispered.
Rumi kissed her cheek. “You’ll be okay.”
Haneul was placed into Zoey’s other arm.
Now she was holding both of them.
Zoey sat.
The chair was too small. Everything was too close. Haneul pressed her face into Zoey’s neck. Areum rested her head against Zoey’s collarbone, trusting in the way only babies could.
Zoey’s heart began to race.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to them both, voice already breaking. “Appa’s sorry.”
The piercer marked Haneul’s ear gently. Haneul squirmed slightly.
Zoey’s arms tightened instinctively.
“Please don’t hold too tight,” the piercer said carefully.
Zoey nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m trying.”
Mira stood beside her, hand on Zoey’s shoulder. “Breathe.”
Zoey breathed.
The piercer lined up the tool.
Zoey shook her head once, barely noticeable. “Wait.”
Everyone paused.
Zoey pressed her forehead to Haneul’s hair. “I’m right here,” she murmured desperately. “I won’t let go. I promise.”
The piercer hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
Click.
Haneul screamed.
It was sharp. Startled. Nothing like the injuries Zoey had endured herself but infinitely worse.
Zoey felt it rip straight through her chest.
“Oh—oh no,” Zoey choked, tears spilling instantly. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry—”
Haneul cried harder, tiny fists clenching.
Zoey made a low, broken sound in her throat, rocking instinctively even as the piercer worked quickly on the second ear.
Areum began to cry too, distressed by her sister’s pain.
Zoey was sobbing now. Full tears. No control. No alpha composure left to salvage.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over, voice shaking. “Appa’s here. Appa’s here. I know it hurts—”
The second ear was done.
Haneul wailed. Areum sobbed. Zoey shook, pressing them closer, completely undone.
Mira wiped at her own eyes. Rumi covered her mouth, emotional but steady.
The piercer stepped back gently. “All done.”
Zoey didn’t hear her.
She was too busy holding her daughters like the world had ended—and she’d let it happen.
“All done.”
The words barely registered.
Zoey was still seated in the holding chair, arms locked around Haneul and Areum like if she loosened her grip even a fraction, the world would split open beneath them. Haneul’s cries tore through the small room sharp, panicked, desperate. Areum’s sobs followed close behind, softer but just as devastating.
Zoey rocked them instinctively, back and forth, back and forth, whispering apologies that tangled together into nonsense.
“I’m here—Appa’s here—I know, I know, I’m sorry—”
Her chest felt too tight. Breathing hurt.
Haneul buried her face into Zoey’s neck, sobbing, tiny fingers clutching fabric like Zoey might disappear if she didn’t hold on hard enough. Areum pressed closer, trembling, her cries hitching with every breath.
Zoey felt something inside her crack.
She had endured broken bones. She had taken bad landings, sprained wrists, injuries that ended tours early. She had faced screaming crowds and vicious headlines and the crushing pressure of being an alpha in the spotlight.
None of that compared to this.
“I shouldn’t have—” Zoey choked, tears streaming freely now, no attempt made to hide them. “I shouldn’t have let them hurt you.”
Mira moved immediately, kneeling in front of her. “Zoey, look at me.”
Zoey shook her head, pressing her face into Haneul’s hair. “I’m supposed to protect them.”
“You are,” Mira said firmly, one hand resting over Zoey’s knee. “You’re doing it right now.”
Rumi stepped closer, voice gentle but steady. “Zoey, they’re startled, not injured. It’s already over.”
But Zoey couldn’t hear over. All she heard was crying.
Areum hiccupped, her sobs uneven. Zoey lifted her slightly, brushing her cheek with trembling fingers. “Shh, Areum… Appa’s here. I know it hurts. I know.”
The piercer hovered near the door, clearly unsure what to do. “If you’d like, we can step out for a moment—”
“Yes,” Zoey said immediately, voice cracking. “Please.”
The door closed softly, leaving only the five of them.
The room felt smaller.
Haneul’s cries began to slow, turning into broken whimpers as Zoey rocked her. Areum’s sobs softened too, though tears still clung to her lashes.
Zoey’s own tears wouldn’t stop.
“I’m weak,” she whispered hoarsely, staring down at them. “I couldn’t even hold it together.”
Rumi knelt beside her, brushing Zoey’s hair back gently. “You didn’t need to.”
Zoey let out a shaky breath that sounded more like a sob. “An alpha shouldn’t cry like this.”
Mira’s expression hardened not at Zoey, but at the idea. “An alpha who doesn’t cry for her children is the one I’d worry about.”
Zoey laughed weakly through tears. “You’re supposed to say that.”
“I mean it,” Mira said, unwavering.
Haneul sniffled, her cries reducing to quiet whines. Zoey felt her body relax slightly, tension easing just enough to breathe. Areum wiped her face against Zoey’s shoulder, still sniffling but no longer screaming.
Zoey kissed Areum’s temple. Then Haneul’s. Over and over.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry, babies.”
Rumi rested her forehead against Zoey’s arm. “They won’t remember the pain.”
Zoey swallowed. “But I will.”
The room was quiet now except for soft sniffles and Zoey’s uneven breathing. The storm had passed, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
Mira reached out, gently touching Zoey’s wrist. “Let me take one.”
Zoey hesitated then slowly, carefully, she handed Areum over. The moment the weight shifted, Zoey felt how badly her arms were shaking.
She kept Haneul pressed to her chest, thumb brushing over her tiny back.
“I’ve never felt this helpless,” Zoey admitted quietly.
Rumi smiled softly. “Welcome to parenthood.”
Zoey huffed out a breathless laugh.
The piercer knocked softly before peeking back in. “They okay?”
Zoey nodded, wiping her face. “Yeah. I’m—” She stopped herself, sniffed. “They’re okay.”
The piercer smiled kindly. “You did great.”
Zoey looked unconvinced.
As they prepared to leave, Mira adjusted the girls’ tiny earrings, checking for redness. They were perfect. Small. Safe.
Zoey stared at them like they might vanish.
As they stepped out of the studio, Zoey held Haneul close, Areum tucked against Mira’s chest. Her eyes burned, her chest still tight but the worst had passed.
She was a wreck.
And she loved them more than anything.
Back in the penthouse, the familiar hum of the elevators, the soft clink of glass, and the muted city below felt… mercifully mundane. Nothing hurt, nothing screamed just the quiet chaos of their home. And yet Zoey’s chest still throbbed with the memory of the piercing studio.
The twins, meanwhile, had fully entered the “I’m teething and I will destroy everything in sight” phase. Haneul and Areum were both fussy despite their earrings, gnawing at their toys and occasionally at the hands of anyone who dared hold them.
Rumi had already taken Haneul to the nursery, where she settled into the chair and carefully latched her baby to her breast. Zoey hovered nearby, still clutching a soft blanket the girl had used to wipe her tears at the studio. Haneul latched perfectly at first then bit down with the unrelenting curiosity of a teething one-year-old.
“Ow! Haneul!” Rumi yelped, pulling her daughter slightly back. The tiny teeth scraped against skin, and Haneul squealed not in pain, but startled by her own reflex. “Baby, not the boob! Not the boob!”
Haneul whimpered, then nuzzled back against Rumi’s chest, suckling properly this time. Rumi rubbed her arm, muttering, “Why are you like this?” while Zoey cringed from the side. Her alpha instincts wanted to kill the pain for them. Instead, she just flinched every time Haneul gnawed reflexively.
Meanwhile, Areum fussed in Mira’s arms. Mira had also sat down for breastfeeding, Areum flailing and biting absentmindedly, teething too sharp for subtlety. “Areum! No!” Mira said with a small laugh and a wince, adjusting her daughter. “You little demon.”
Zoey hovered nearby, hands hovering over both mothers like she was on some sort of military standby. Her own eyes were red-rimmed, still streaked with tears from the studio. “I’m useless,” she muttered. “I can’t even… I can’t help.”
Rumi glanced up, voice soft but teasing. “You’re not useless. You just… almost cried holding them both at once. And you still comforted them.”
Zoey sniffed. “I did cry,” she admitted. “Like a weak alpha.”
Mira chuckled softly, nudging Zoey with her knee. “We all cried. You’re allowed. And Appa, the twins are calm because you were there.”
Zoey’s lips trembled. “I can’t even hold them properly now. They bite us. They’re teething and it’s my fault they’re in pain—”
Rumi rolled her eyes gently, still rubbing Haneul’s back. “Zoey, it’s not your fault. Teething hurts. They don’t understand that biting isn’t love, they just—”
“Don’t bite the boob!” Mira squeaked, laughing through a soft grunt as Areum latched again, teeth grazing her nipple.
Zoey froze, eyes wide. “Should I intervene?”
“No, you’ll hurt their teeth or worse, scare them,” Mira said quickly, trying not to laugh. Areum was happily gnawing now but still latched. “Just… supervise.”
Zoey hovered awkwardly, one hand hovering too close to Areum’s back, the other to Haneul, unsure what action to take. She was still shaking slightly from earlier trauma.
“I—” Zoey swallowed hard. “I feel like the weakest alpha alive. I fought on stage in front of tens of thousands of people. I did stunts they’d post all over the news. I jumped off buildings… and now I can’t handle breastfeeding teething babies.”
Rumi looked up, her gaze soft. “Zoey, you’re not supposed to handle it alone. You have us. That’s the point. Strength isn’t doing it by yourself but it’s knowing you’re enough with your pack.”
Zoey looked at them both. Mira smiling gently, Areum suckling in her arms, tiny hands clutching, Haneul burrowed against Rumi. She exhaled shakily. “I… I’m still terrified.”
“You’re allowed,” Mira said. “They can sense fear, but they can also sense love. You’re here. That’s what matters.”
Zoey’s eyes filled again, but this time the tears were quieter, more relieved than panicked. “I just—” she whispered. “I never thought something so small could hurt so much.”
Rumi laughed softly, glancing down at Haneul. “Nothing about parenting is small.”
The girls started to calm, nursing in unison. Haneul relaxed against Rumi, Areum nestled back into Mira. Zoey leaned against the edge of the nursery, still hovering, hands itching to help but unsure how. The penthouse felt impossibly quiet now no fans, no stage, no screaming headlines just the rhythmic suckling of her daughters and the soft murmurs of her mates.
“I’m… proud of them,” Zoey admitted softly. “For handling it.”
Rumi nudged her shoulder. “You should be proud of yourself too.”
Zoey blinked, stunned. “Me?”
“Yes,” Mira said, squeezing Areum gently as the girl nuzzled closer. “You held them through something scary. You didn’t leave. You cried, and they still trust you. That’s the definition of strong.”
Zoey exhaled slowly, letting herself sink down to the floor near them. Her chest still ached, but she felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest. She brushed Haneul’s hair gently, then Areum’s, whispering small apologies and reassurances.
“You’re still my babies,” she murmured. “Even if you bite your eommas… even if you cry through earrings… you’re mine. Appa’s here.”
Haneul and Areum cooed softly, tiny hands reaching for her hair. Zoey smiled through tears, brushing a damp lock away.
The penthouse felt safe. Full of love. Loud in the right way. And Zoey, the alpha who thought she was weak, realized maybe strength didn’t mean never crying it meant being there no matter how much it hurt.
The penthouse was finally quiet. Haneul and Areum had dozed off, nipples still nestled gently against their mothers’ skin, soft sighs escaping as they sank into sleep. Zoey sat cross-legged on the floor, knees pulled up, watching them like they were tiny miracles she’d somehow survived to protect.
“They’re… asleep,” Zoey whispered, barely daring to breathe. “After all that crying…” Her hand brushed Haneul’s hair, then Areum’s. “I survived.”
Rumi and Mira, both leaning back in their nursing chairs, rubbed their sore chests with pained expressions. “Tell me you didn’t notice how sore we are?” Mira groaned, still cradling Areum.
Zoey blinked. “Uh… yeah. I noticed?”
Rumi rolled her eyes gently. “You’ve been alpha-ing all day. Surely you know… how this feels?”
Zoey froze. “I… don’t?”
Mira snorted, smirking. “Of course not, you big strong alpha. How would you know?”
“I’ve fought hordes of fans, survived injuries, managed chaos… I don’t think anything prepared me for this,” Zoey admitted. She leaned back against the couch, flopping slightly. “I’m a disaster.”
“You’re not a disaster,” Rumi said firmly, though she still winced when Haneul twitched in her sleep. “You’re… well, you’re still learning. But you’re helpful. That counts.”
Zoey perked up slightly. “Helpful? I can help. How?”
Mira groaned dramatically, letting out a small laugh. “We need to pump. We’re about to explode here. Can you—can you handle storing the milk?”
Zoey’s eyes widened. “Store it?”
“Yes. Pump it. Bottle it. Label it. Freeze it,” Rumi added, motioning at the small cooler on the counter. “We need a good Appa to manage this operation.”
Zoey’s jaw dropped. “A… good… what?”
“Good Appa!” Mira said, waving a hand. “You don’t know how to feel it, fine. But you can be a badass at handling logistics. Get the milk stored properly before we’re flooded.”
Zoey nodded solemnly, trying to project competence while internally panicking. This is so weird. I don’t even know what pumping is.
“Uh… okay,” she said, approaching the counter where the pump was. Rumi guided her hands over the parts, explaining gently how to connect everything, sanitize the bottles, and label them correctly: “Haneul – Rumi” and “Areum – Mira.”
Zoey felt slightly ridiculous. “So… we just… suck it out?” she asked, squinting at the tubes and cups like they were alien technology.
Mira laughed. “Not like that. The pump does the work.”
Zoey tilted her head. “Oh. Right. The machine. I get it… I think?”
Rumi smirked. “And no, don’t taste it,” she added sharply.
Zoey blinked, innocent but mischievous. “Okay, you said I can’t taste it, but…” She leaned closer, voice playful, “…you just made me curious! How does it taste?”
Mira’s eyes widened, half horror, half laughter. “Zoey! Do not—”
Zoey laughed, waving her hands defensively. “Relax! I’m not serious! I’m just… scientifically curious!”
Rumi shook her head, chuckling. “Appa, your scientific curiosity is terrifying.”
Zoey grinned sheepishly, returning to her pumping duties, taking the bottles and labeling them with utmost care. “Fine, fine. Hood Appa knows how to store milk properly, no tasting required.”
By the time she finished, the twins’ peaceful breaths filled the room. Haneul’s tiny fingers twitched occasionally against Rumi’s chest; Areum snuggled Mira’s collarbone. Zoey leaned back against the floor, brushing loose strands of hair from their faces. Her chest ached, but the ache was the good kind—the kind that reminded her she had survived, protected, and loved.
“I… I guess I am strong,” Zoey muttered. “Not like I imagined. But… strong in a… weird… emotional, tearful, I-just-watched-my-daughters-get-pierced-and-bit-my-wives kind of way.”
Mira laughed softly, leaning back. “Exactly. That’s the kind of alpha that matters here.”
Zoey smiled through tears, reaching for Haneul and Areum to gently stroke their tiny cheeks. “You’re safe now. Appa’s always here.”
Rumi nudged Zoey’s shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Even if you don’t know exactly how everything feels. You help. That’s what counts.”
Zoey exhaled slowly, letting herself sink further into the floor. Her eyes drifted over the sleeping twins, their tiny bodies curled with contentment, earrings catching the sunlight. She realized something important: being an alpha wasn’t about never crying or always being unshakable. It was about being present. Protecting your pack. Loving relentlessly, even when it terrified you.
“Okay,” she whispered, brushing Haneul’s hair, then Areum’s. “Weak alpha or not… I’m the strongest Appa you two could ever have.”
A small whine escaped Haneul as she shifted in her sleep, and Zoey pressed a hand to her tiny back. “Appa’s here. Always. Even if I cry sometimes.”
Areum nuzzled closer to Mira, still half-asleep. Zoey leaned back, exhausted but victorious. Hood Appa had survived the tears, the biting, the breastfeeding chaos, and the pumping operation. She might not know exactly how it feels like the moms did but she’d made sure the milk was safe, stored, and labeled. And that, in her alpha brain, was victory.
She smiled softly, brushing both tiny faces again. “You two are mine, and I’m never letting go.”
The penthouse hummed gently around them. Outside, Seoul continued to move, but inside, everything was perfect, chaotic, painful, and full of love.
Zoey, still a little tear-stained, still unsure of herself, still awkward… was exactly the Appa her daughters and her pack needed.