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Summary
Minho this time. Jeongin knows the tone. Whoever is heading for Seungmin is already halfway down the hall. “No,” he whispers. The thought of Chan’s hands on Seungmin’s body, of him touching him, finding, with his thumb, the little birthmark he has on his hip, the thought of any of them, anyone but him touching him, the thought of a foreign knot penetrating, claiming, his omega, his Seungmin—
A wave of nausea rips through him and he retches, gags around his growl, stealing his breath so violently it sends more panic thundering into his veins. He rips up his head to gasp for air, blinks open his eyes and find’s their pack alpha’s gaze. Chan’s mouth falls open in shock.
Everything in the room pauses.
Somehow, he knows, even if he can’t see it himself. His eyes are glowing. Lavender.