Chapter Text
The air in the JYP practice room was heavy with the exhaustion and sweat of hours of non-stop rehearsal. To anyone else, the dominant scents were wood, leather, and the storm—the potent, territorial aromas of seven Alphas giving their all to the choreography.
But in a corner of the room, sitting against the mirror, Jeongin struggled to breathe.
A shiver ran down his spine, and a subtle, almost imperceptible scent of sweet buns and vanilla began to drift around him. Panic set in. He reached into his sweatshirt pocket, making sure his suppressant pills were still there. There were few left; the morning dose was wearing off prematurely due to the physical exertion.
"Innie? Are you okay?"
Bang Chan’s deep voice echoed through the room.
The leader approached, his gaze fixed on the youngest, closely followed by the curious eyes of the others. A protective instinct—one they couldn't yet explain—stirred in the room.
Jeongin forced his best "fox smile" and quickly stood up, trying to hide the trembling in his legs.
"Yeah, Hyung. Just a little tired. I’m going to the bathroom to freshen up.
He hurried out of the room, ignoring the way the seven Alphas narrowed their eyes, catching a sweet trace in the air—a scent they couldn't quite identify but which was beginning to drive them wild. Jeongin’s secret was hanging by a thread.