justauthoring

You've been twisting in your spot all night.

You're trying not to be obvious, and really, you barely even notice it, too lost in your own thoughts as you barely pay attention to the movie playing. It's just, the scents around you from Han's nest are so strong and they're making you feel...—

"Are you okay, Y/Nnie?"

Pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Han's soft, concerned voice, you turn to him with wide eyes. He's already looking at you, brows furrowed and lips curled down into a soft frown. It's then you realize he's paused the movie, the light from the TV bathing you both in a soft light.

"Y-Yeah," you breathe, inhaling sharply. "Yeah, I'm okay."

And even you know you're not convincing. Han's eyes narrow as he takes you in closer, eyes flickering across your body, clearly not convinced.

"You sure?" He asks, "you've been shifting all night. Did you... We don't have to finish the movie if you don't want."

"It's not that," you say, fast and before you can properly think. You just don't want Han to think you don't want to spend time with him or you're annoyed he'd asked you to watch a movie with him. When he'd come home from work, practically bouncing on the spot as he asked if you wanted to watch the new anime movie that had just been released on stream with him, you'd been ecstatic.

And you'd had every intention of paying attention. Cuddling with Han in his nest watching a movie together was the perfect night.

Then, you'd crawled into his bed, and that... scent had hit you.

"Y/N?"

Sighing, your shoulders fall. You let your eyes fall on Han again, his body turned towards you, dressed in nothing more than grey sweats and a loose shirt.

Omega.

Safe.

You know Han's safe. All the boys are.

Still didn't mean it wasn't hard.

"Y/N," Han calls again when you've yet to say anything. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"

Your lips part, hesitating. Is it something you want to bring up? The answer is obvious. Your omega is screaming at you, reassuring you that it's okay, that Han is safe, and truthfully, you've been thinking about this for a while.

"Can..." And you hesitate, struggling to find the words. "Can we... try something?"

Han's brows furrow; "try something?"

You huff, struggling to find the words. You want to explain yourself properly, but you don't know how.

You try to remember what Hyunjin had said to you, two weeks ago, heading home from the art gala.

Y/N, as long as you want it, really want it, it'd be more than okay

That's right. As long as you wanted it, it'd be okay. Hyunjin may have been the one to say it, but you know that any of the boys would feel the same. Of course they would. And you wanted to take this step, wanted to take control of your own pleasure.

"I don't think I could go all the way," you start, turning back to meet Han's gaze. "But I want to try something with you."

And Han stares at you for one long moment, before it finally clicks just what you mean. You see the realization dawn on him, his eyes widening, body straightening.

"With me?" He asks, pointing at his chest.

"Yes," you nod, sure in your answer. It's the one thing you're sure of. "I feel safe with you. You're an omega too and... and ever since I stepped into your nest, your scent has been driving me crazy."

Han's cheeks flush at that; "it has?"

Feeling your cheeks warm as well, you nod, shy. "Yeah."

"Oh," Han exhales, heavy and thick with the charged tension that has filled the room. "O-Of course we can. What... What do you want?"

To feel good.

Your omega whispers the words to you, charged with desire. Biting your lip, you turn to Han.

"Can you make me feel good?"

You never would've asked the question to Seojun. With him, your wants never mattered, especially not with sex. It was about what he wanted, it was about making sure he was satisfied. He took and took and never cared to give back or ask.

The boys have been making you feel all sorts of things over the past few months. Things you haven't felt in a long time. And you know that you want to make them feel good too, but it feels important to you in that moment, that you're able to take back something Seojun stole from you.

Control of your body. Of your pleasure.

And as you turn to look back at Han, you take note of the way his eyes have darkened, his lids growing heavy as his scent spikes with excitement. You can tell he's trying to hold back and be respectful of your boundaries, but it warms your heart he's so happily willing to do so.

"Of course," Han says, voice heavy. "I know you said you're not ready for the whole thing. That's okay. But I still want you to be in control of the whole thing, okay, baby?"

Licking your lips, you hesitate; "in control?"

"I'll make you feel good," he reassures. "This whole thing will be about making you feel good. But you tell me what you want me to do, okay? I won't do anything you don't want me to."

That makes your racing heart settle, just a little. You know none of the boys would force you to do anything, but it's still nice to be reassured.

"And if you want me to stop, you just tell me, okay?"

You nod.

"Words, baby."

"Okay."

"Okay," Han smiles. "So, what do you need, honey?"

Shifting against his pillows, you pause in thought. "I want... I want you to touch me... down there." Cheeks warm, heart racing, you gesture to your lower body, nervous.

"Touch?" Han echoes, moving so he's in front of you rather than beside you. "Just touch? Or do you want my mouth too?"

Your scent spikes at that, arousal coursing through you.

"Y-Your mouth," you whisper.

"Yeah?" Han asks.

"Yeah."

He nods, still smiling, moving closer so he's hovering over you. It takes you a moment, not used to seeing Han in this light. You know he likes to be told what to do, just because you've watched it happened time and time again with the alphas, mainly Minho. You've even seen it between Felix and him.

But in this moment now, so utterly sure of himself and being so receptive to your needs... it makes you feel a certain way.

"Can I take off your shorts, baby?"

Inhaling deeply, you nod. "Yeah," you tell him. "But can I keep my shirt on?"

Having your shirt, the one you stole from Hyunjin, brings you a comfort you think will help you.

"Of course, baby. You don't have to ask," Han smiles. "And remember, you can tell me to stop at any time, okay?"

"Okay."

And so he leans forward, reaching for you. He starts with a gentle kiss against your forehead that has your heart fluttering, before you feel his hands fall to the waistband of your shorts. You start at that, and Han meets your gaze, halting.

You nod a moment later.

It's not your first time doing anything with the boys, but that had been during your heart. And although they'd been just as careful and conscious of your needs then, it hadn't been because you were ready. Needing them during your heat was a lot different than wanting them now.

Slowly, Han pulls down your shorts and underwear. He's slow, not to tease but to make sure that if you change your mind, you have the time to. You keep your gaze on his own as he does, nodding when he asks you to lift your hips, and watching as he slips them off your sock-clad feet before setting them beside him.

The cold air hits you immediately, and there's a small, brief moment, where panic strikes you. But then you smell Han, all around you, and the faint scents of the rest of the pack from his nest. And then you catch his gaze, warm, loving and patient, and the panic fades away.

"Still okay?" Han asks.

"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah, I'm okay."

He smiles, proud and gentle and it makes your heart flutter.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

And so he does, leaning forward, hands braced on either side of you and presses his lips against your own. Han is gentle and caring, making sure to pour his love into the kiss so you know that's what this is—not sex, but love.

When he pulls back, the both of you breathless, Han meets your eyes once again.

"Can I touch you, Y/N?"

Your heart races, feeling that spike and hum out; "yes."

His hand is warm as it settles on your bare thigh, thumb rubbing circles into the skin as his other hand moves towards your vagina. Your breath catches as you watch him, stilling in the spot, and Han is slow and careful as spreads your lips, letting his middle finger drag across the inside of your pussy.

A shiver travels down your spine.

"Oh," you breathe.

"Too much?" Han asks, glancing up at you.

You shake your head; "no."

So, he continues. For a moment, his one hand rubs soft, soothing circles into your thigh as the other rubs at your clit, making the heat pool in your lower belly and you grow more wet by the moment.

"Can I put my finger in?"

It takes a moment to process Han's words, and then, as it clicks, you let out a shaky breath.

"Slowly," you whisper, "if that's okay?"

"Of course, Y/N," he assures, and he's true to his word, shifting forward as he now pulls his hand off your thigh, slowly pressing his middle finger towards your entrance. No one's touched there since Seojun, and it had always been forceful and without your consent.

It's terrifying, you realize, feeling Han there. But, it's also comforting. The undeniable trust you hold for these boys assures you that Han won't do anything you don't like, and it feels like a reclaiming of sorts.

He's only doing it because you've said yes. Because you've given permission.

You're in control.

It feels good. The intrusion is weird at first, but Han continues to rub circles at your clit as he slowly pushes his finger in, and the pressure feels nice.

A soft moan leaves your lips, feeling yourself grow more wet.

"It feels good, baby?"

"Yes," you shakily exhale. "Yes."

"I'm gonna use my mouth now, okay, Y/N?" Han says a moment later, still slowly thrusting his finger in and out. "Tell me if it's too much."

Inhaling sharply, you nod.

"Words, Y/Nnie."

"O-Okay," you say, head tilting back.

He pulls his hands away and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to leave your lips, your omega distressed at the loss of his hands. You can't dwell on it for long, though, because his hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart gently, and then you feel his breath hit your pussy directly.

"Oh," you breathe, eyes widening as you glance down at Han.

He smiles up at you, through your legs, squeezing your knees in his hands before he lowers his head. You can't look away, entranced by the sight, body unconsciously stilling as you feel his head grow closer to your heat.

And then, slowly, tentatively, he sticks his tongue out, dragging across your slit.

A gasp leaves your lips, head falling back as another moan of pleasure leaves your lips. Han hesitates a moment after the first lick, waiting for you to say it's too much, and when you don't, he lets himself continue.

It's unlike anything you've ever felt before.

The pleasure so powerful, almost too much, but in a good way. Han is slow as he swirls his tongue around your clit, but it's not in a teasing or painstaking way—rather, he does it to leave room for you to tell him to stop. It's comforting and so good all at that same time.

"Oh my," you breathe, voicing pitching. "Han!"

He seems spurred on by the moan of his name, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. It pulls another sharp gasp from your lips, body tensing as your head falls back, letting yourself fall into the comforting scent of your pack as Han continues to eat you out.

It's a few moments later when you feel the pleasure spike, the heat turning too much, and your muscles tense.

"Ha-Han-ah," you moan, fingers clasping his bed sheets tightly. "I'm gonna—I'm gonna—"

Han seems to understand your meaning even if you can't find the words, because, still with his mouth pressed against your pussy, he says; "cum for me, Y/Nnie." And the vibrations have you spiraling, your vision dizzying for a moment as the pleasure coarses through your whole body.

It has you moaning, louder than you mean to, eyes clenching shut as you ride out your orgasm. Han holds you, grip tight but assuring, as he helps you ride it out as well.

And then, when you finish, and your body lets out a trembling shake, he finally pulls his mouth away, sitting up to look at you.

Breathless, your chest rising and falling, you stare back at him, seeing your own wetness around his mouth, body still trembling from your orgasm, lost in the pure happiness in his eyes.

"You okay, baby?" Han asks after a moment, leaning forward to brush back your hair from your face as he wipes at his face. "It wasn't too much, was it?"

You shake your head, "no," you breathe. "No, that was... That was amazing, Hannie."

"Yeah?" He smiles.

"Yeah," you confirm. "It felt really good."

Han's grin brightens. "I'm glad. Here." He's shifting before you can say anything, climbing off the bed. A small whine leaves your lips as you watch him, wanting him close, but Han just smiles at you, moving quickly as he grabs some sweats from his closet and a towel.

"I'm gonna clean you, okay?" He says, moving back towards the bed.

You nod, shifting so he can clean you properly. He's gentle as he does, movements slow and tentative, and then, when he's done, he grabs the sweats.

"For you," he grins, "I thought you might like the smell of them."

You do. They smell like Han which is exactly what you want right now.

Han helps you slip the sweats on, telling you to lift your hips as he pulls them up. They're a little big, but you don't mind. Then, with that, he finally moves back beside you, moving to pull you into his arms.

It's then you catch sight of his hard-on.

"Oh," you breathe, "Hannie, you're..."

He catches your meaning. "It's fine."

"But don't you—"

"Do you want to?" He cuts in gently, meeting your gaze.

You hesitate, and the answer is obvious enough.

"Then you don't have to," he smiles. "Tonight was about you."

He pulls you into his chest and you fall into his embrace, licking your lips. "It's really okay?"

"It is," Han assures, squeezing you closer against him. "I know it wasn't like that before, but you never have to do anything for us just because you think you should or as some sort of repayment, Y/N. I'm not saying I wouldn't like it, but I want it to be on your terms and your terms only, okay?"

Glancing up, you meet his eyes, smiling softly. "Okay, Hannie."

Pressing his cheek into the top of your head, Han hums lightly. "You promise that felt good?"

"I promise," you whisper, playing with his fingers. "I've never felt that good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile, nodding. "It felt good. The o-orgasm and being able to reclaim my own pleasure like that."

"I'm glad," Han says. "And thank you for trusting me with that."

Hongjoong tells the others that you’ll both only be a short while and when Seonghwa asks if Hongjoong would like him to come along, the pack alpha simply shakes his head and says; “this is something I’ve gotta do.”

You’re reasonably scared. Every interaction you’ve had with Hongjoong has been… terrifying and even if Yeosang said that the alpha would never hurt you, you don’t really know if you believe that. Not to mention, those interactions had been with the rest of the pack around, so there’s no telling what he’s willing to do with no witnesses. Not that you’re confident the pack would stop him, but… still.

You try to ignore the tremble of your body, focused on putting one foot in front of the other as Hongjoong leads you away from the dining room and up the steps. The two of you get further and further away from the sound of the pack who now talk amongst themselves, and when you reach the top of the stairs, instead of turning towards the right in the direction of the bedroom they’ve been keeping you in, Hongjoong turns left. There was something… reassuring about at least being in a space you’d grown somewhat familiar in, so you can’t help the way your heart starts to race as Hongjoong leads you into what looks like an office.

It’s large, with an extremely extravagant and large desk right in the middle of the room. There’s two chairs in front of the desk, with a few more aligned against the wall to the side. The back wall of the desk is a series of bookshelves, filled to the brim with different books. There’s two windows in the room but the curtains are drawn close, leaving the only light in the middle of the room.

It’s clearly Hongjoong’s office, you can just tell by the ambiance of the room. That and his smell is the strongest in here, though you pick up traces of the rest of the pack in here too. You figure that’s what all those chairs are for.

Hongjoong lets you step in first, shutting the door behind him as he steps in himself.

“Take a seat,” Hongjoong says, gesturing to the chairs. It takes you a moment to gain the courage to step forward, but not wanting to piss him off anymore than you already have, you listen, moving to sit in the left chair. You expect Hongjoong to sit at his desk, only to be surprised when he opts to lean against the desk, directly in front of you.

It’s a power move, at least somewhat. This position gives him the higher position, but you’re not sure why he sees the reason to do it when he already holds all the power regardless — he was an alpha, you were an omega. His pack had kidnapped you, you were trapped here. And, for better or for worse, your omega seemed to respond to him regardless of whether he used his alpha stature or not.

“I’ve tried to remain patient,” Hongjoong starts and you hold your breath at that. “All of us have. But your blatant disrespect for me or the others will not be tolerated any longer.”

Your face twists, a rush of hot anger flooding through you. “You kidnapped me.”

Hongjoong’s sharp gaze hits yours instantly; “we brought you home.”

You huff, “listen, I understand that you all… have memories of me, of me being with this pack and although I can’t deny that you guys have been… somewhat right about it all, you have to consider it from my point of view.” Leaning forward, you meet his gaze, imploringly. “Before Yunho found me that night, I had no idea who you guys were. No memory of you. Now, they’ve been… coming back, I guess. But not completely, not in a way that makes proper sense.

“The first real, coherent memory I can make of any of you is waking up in that room after you took me from my home. You killed my—”

“Careful.” Hongjoong warns, eyes flashing.

You sigh; “you killed Chul-soo, someone that I… lived with and knew. Yunho shot a man right in front of me. Wooyoung told me that I used to… be a part of whatever this whole organization is and sure, maybe I was. But I don’t remember that and the me from now doesn’t just kill people because they’ve wronged me. I have morals.”

You think you’ve explained yourself well. You think you’re being reasonable. That surely, Hongjoong will have to see some sense in that.

Of course, these men are nothing if not frustrating.

Before you can even finish blinking, Hongjoong is suddenly in front of you, his face a breath away. You feel his presence surround you, his scent flooding your senses and making you feel dizzy as his hands brace themselves on the arms of the chair you’re sitting in. He’s completely trapped you, and your breath hitches as the realization settles in.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this,” Hongjoong whispers, voice a low husk. “Everything we’ve done is for you. Chul-soo died because it was what was best for you. We’ve brought you home because, whether you believe it or not, it’s the best for you as well. You need to learn to accept that.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you grip your skirt in your fists, trying to calm yourself. “So what? I’m trapped here for the rest of my life? I have no anatomy of my own? What about my job? My life?”

Hongjoong scoffs, the laugh cruel and mocking. “You mean the life where you worked three jobs, came home exhausted every night, barely able to feed yourself? The life where everyone walked all over you? The life where you had no one who genuinely cared about you?”

Despite how hard you try to stay strong, Hongjoong’s words hit you in a way that makes you react beyond your control. You feel your eyes well with tears, a hitch in your breath as you flinch back, swallowing the lump that has formed in the back of your threat.

“That’s…” You start, unable to find the words. “That’s not true.”

“No?” Hongjoong raises a brow, still close, still suffocatingly close. “It’s pointless to lie, Y/N. I know you better than yourself. You crave love, you crave attention, and you’ve been deprived of it for so long.”

How cruel, you think to yourself. How cruel to rub it in your face like that—the only thing you’ve ever strived for your entire life. Or, at least, the part of your life you remember.

Finally, the tears well and boil over, streaming down your cheeks in a way that is embarrassing. To fall apart like this, so easily, in front of this man. This alpha.

And then, you feel his hand press against your cheek. It pulls a gasp from your lips, startled and panicked, but as your eyes meet his, you’re surprised to not see those cruel, glaring alpha eyes, but instead, eyes filled with concern, guilt and love. Hongjoong looks at you in that moment as if the mere sight of you crying breaks his heart into a million pieces

“Pretty girl,” Hongjoong whispers, soft and warm in a way his voice has yet to sound to you since you’ve been here. “It’s okay, I know. I know.”

Part of you, a small, whispered voice in the back of your head reminds you, screams at you the fact that the reason you’re crying in the first place is because of him. That Hongjoong is the one who made you cry. But your omega doesn’t care—instead, she’s purring internally in happiness, reveling in the touch of her alpha. And really, a larger, louder part of you doesn’t care either. His touch is so… reassuring against your cheek, his thumb brushing your tears away gently. The way he’s looking at you is everything you’ve ever wanted and you think, that the part of you that remembered these men, this pack, your pack, wants you to know it's okay too.

“You must’ve been so lonely,” Hongjoong whispers, pressing his lips against your forehead. You practically shutter at the touch. “But it’s okay now. You’ll never be alone. We’ll take care of you, baby. You’ll never have to worry about a single thing again.”

His words sink in, filling you with such warmth and love you didn’t even know could exist. You feel your hands twitch at your sides, as if wanting to reach for him, and just for a brief, pressing moment, you think to yourself; is this the right thing? But then, the realization that you don’t care settles in and you’re listening to your instincts, to your omega, reaching for Hongjoong.

“Alpha.”

He responds in kind, swiftly moving his hands to slide around your waist, pulling you up and out of the chair and into his arms. You sink into his grasp with surprising ease, wrapping your arms around his middle and moving to press your face into the crook of his neck, right at his scent glands, breathing in his leather and amber scent and letting it calm you.

Hongjoong’s one hand presses against the back of your head, encouraging you to breathe in his scent.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, “that’s it.”

You moan against his neck, his words sending a pleasant tingle through your entire body. You take a deep breath in of his scent, not realizing just how much you needed it until that moment. Then, after a moment, you pull your head back, meeting Hongjoong’s waiting gaze, as he smiles at you.

“You just needed a good cry, huh, omega?” Hongjoong coos, tucking your hair behind your ear. “See how there’s nothing to worry about?”

You nod, feeling small and vulnerable, as you settle your hands on his shoulders.

“I see that you are wearing our clothes again, baby,” Hongjoong smiles, eyes lighting up with a twinkle. “Did you know I bought you this skirt?”

Head still feeling like you're in a daze, you glance down at your skirt, taking in the flowery pattern of it. It’s why you’d chosen it in the morning, because the flowery design had reminded you of the garden you’d always wanted. 

“It’s pretty,” you mumble, voice a whisper. “Soft too.”

“Made with omegan textures,” Hongjoong explains, pressing his forehead against your own. “So it doesn’t scratch. Always the best for our omega.”

You hum out in reply, falling further into subspace as Hongjoong lets out more of his scent, wrapping you up with it like a blanket.

“We’ll have to get you to make a nest again, hm?” Hongjoong continues, letting his hand brush against your neck, right where your scent gland is. It’s sensitive, not used to being uncovered for so long, and a touch from an alpha, one of your alphas, has you shuddering beyond control, slipping even further into subspace. “You used to have such a pretty one in the living room. We loved it. But my favourite was the one in your bedroom, where you used most of our clothes rather than blankets and pillows. Would you like that, huh? To make a pretty nest?”

You nod, tilting your head to bare your neck as his thumb continues to brush against your scent gland. Your eyes flutter, rolling to the back of your head at the pleasant tingle that electrifies throughout your entire body. Your scent pours into the room, pungent and filled with your pleasure as Hongjoong grins at the sight.

“You’ve been so confused, so upset,” he mumbles, leaning forward to press his lips against your neck. “You must’ve been so scared. It’s okay now, pretty girl. We’ve got you.”

He presses a series of kisses that has you digging your nails into his shoulders, back arching as a moan slips past your lips. When you feel the tip of his fangs drag across your scent gland, the moan that slips past your lips is beyond your control.

And then that familiar pang hits your head.

“I’ll be the one to bite you first, my love. Mark you as mine.”

“Oh?” You giggle, locking your feet behind Hongjoong’s back as you run your hands through his hair. “I’m not sure how the other boys will feel about that.”

“Doesn’t matter what they think,” Hongjoong whispers, a soft growl leaving his lips. “I’m the one who found you, pretty girl.”

When your eyes blink open again, the pang in your head is replaced by a sharp pain right at your neck. You can barely process the memory that had just returned to you as you realize that Hongjoong is biting you, marking you.

Your eyes widen, panic crawling through you as he holds you tighter against him, sinking his fangs further in and causing you to cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

When Hongjoong does finally pull away, he does so with a satisfied sigh and a beaming smirk. You flinch at the feeling of his fangs leaving your neck, eyes falling on the small bit of blood that has pooled around his lips, before you reach for your neck, still in disbelief. You hiss in pain the second you touch the raw bite mark, pulling back your hand only to see blood. 

The bite stings at your neck, and you stare at Hongjoong with wide, baffled eyes.

“You… You—”

“I marked you,” Hongjoong says, satisfied and unphased. “Marked you as mine. Finally.”

Your heart is pounding against your chest, your hands trembling and you’re conflicted between wanting to push Hongjoong away and pull him closer.

“Just like I said I would.”

“Wh-Why?” You ask, voice breaking.

Hongjoong frowns; “because, you’re ours, pretty girl. I said I’d be the first one to mark you, and I meant it. With me, the rest will follow. We waited too long the first time, we won’t let the opportunity slip by again.”

You want to cry. You want to burst with happiness. You’re so conflicted it’s hard to make sense of your own thoughts. At the end of the day, Hongjoong had marked you without your permission, whilst you were in subspace and in technicality, against your will. However, you couldn’t deny that there was a sense of satisfaction running through you. Your omega was happy, like she always seemed to be when any of them gave you attention. 

But—But.

“You have to complete the bite,” Hongjoong says, pulling you closer. It’s then you remember you’re still in his arms and you start to shift, trying to pull away. “Y/N, baby, don’t fight me. You have to complete the bite.”

“No–No!” You cry out, pushing at his chest. “Let go of me! Let me go!”

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. “Y/N, listen to me. If you don’t bite me back, it’ll make you sick. Really sick.”

That makes you pause, stilling in your fight to get away as your wide, teary eyes fall on him. You knew that, you know that. When a mating bite is initiated, it’s imperative that it’s completed. The alpha will be unaffected, of course, but you? An omega? You’ll fall ill, you could die.

Hongjoong’s face is serious as he glances back at you, subtly baring his neck to you. 

“You… You didn’t ask,” you whimper, turning limp in his grasp.

“I did, pretty girl,” Hongjoong whispers, shaking his head as he brushes your tears away. “I did, three years ago.”

A choked sob leaves your lips and yet, even you can’t deny that’s true.

“Come on, omega,” Hongjoong says, fully baring his neck. “Bite me.”

Breakfast starts off awkward.

Yeosang seats you at the head of the table, much like Seonghwa had the day before, and when the two of you reach the dining room, Wooyoung and Mingi are already sitting there waiting. As if they’d been waiting for your arrival, they both turn at the sound of yours and Yeosang’s footsteps, watching you with hopeful eyes as you sit down.

You tense under their watchful gaze, shoulders high and arms tucked to your sides, as Yeosang takes a seat in the spot next to you, on the right of Mingi. No one says anything, a fact you can’t tell if you’re thankful for or not, and eventually, two maids come in, carrying plates of food to which they silently deliver to the table. You try to make eye contact with one of them, but they promptly ignore your gaze, remaining eerily silent until they’ve delivered all the food and simply bow before leaving.

Sighing, you turn towards the table, eyeing the food displayed in front of you.

“Feel free to take as much as you’d like,” Mingi says, being the first to speak up as he reaches forward for food and piling some on his plate. “If there’s something you want, let us know and we’ll get the staff to make it for you.”

His words are innocently kind, and yet, you can’t help the scoffed reply that leaves your lips; “so none of you do any of your own cooking?” And you think it’s a valid enough question. The sight of these men being waited on pisses you off in a way you can’t describe—maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last two years barely able to afford food and having to do everything for yourself. Maybe it’s because you’re jealous.

“Some of us enjoy cooking,” Yeosang says, voice even as he grabs his own food, much more politely than Mingi. “But, yes, we do have staff that does it for us. I can assure you they’re well paid.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes.

Before you can reply, however, movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. Freezing in your seat, you turn your head to the right, away from Mingi and Yeosang, only to find Wooyoung piling food onto your plate. He’s shifted his seat closer to your own, a realization that makes you tense, and there’s a soft serene smile on his lips as he fills up your plate.

For a moment, you sit there, not saying anything. An instinctive part of you wants to tell him off, but you can’t deny the way the action makes your heart feel warm. It’s such a simple act, but it’s an act of care you’ve never received before.

Then, you see his arm.

Breath hitching, your hand moves on its own, reaching forward and grabbing his wrist without warning. Wooyoung pauses at the touch, but doesn’t flinch or pull away, eyes falling on you as you pull his left hand towards yourself. Your fingers reach out, pulling back the sleeve of his button up shirt, lips parting at the sight.

His entire arm, from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, is burn scars. They’ve healed over, years old, but the scars are still present. It makes your chest tighten, shifting in your seat as your lips part.

“I got them the same day we lost you,” Wooyoung says after a moment, pulling your eyes on him. “In that fire.”

Swallowing thickly, you let go of his hand, pulling back. “This really makes no sense.”

Those scars… they were like yours.

“What do you remember?” Yeosang asks, voice careful. “Of that night?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “Nothing,” you answer, staring down at your lap. “My first memory consists of waking up in a hospital, alone, on the brink of death. They told me I did die and it was a miracle I’d woken up.”

Wooyoung’s, Mingi’s and Yeosang’s faces all read slightly varied expressions of guilt and grief. They’re so real and genuine that it makes your heart hurt in a way you’ve never experienced before, taking in just how genuinely pained they seem at the memory of that fire. The fire that you burned and nearly died in, the fire that they were apparently at.

“Were you in the fire too?” You ask a moment later, turning back to Wooyoung. “Is that how you got those scars?”

Wooyoung shakes his head, turning away from you. “No, I… I got them because I tried to save you.”

Your lips part, shock flooding your system. Oh.

“Wooyoung-ah,” Mingi calls, voice thick with concern and pity. He reaches forward, as if wanting to comfort the younger alpha, but Wooyoung just shakes his head, eyes falling shut in shame.

“I failed,” he whispers. “I failed to save you.”

“Wooyoung-ah,” Yeosang calls, leaning forward with a firm expression. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Wooyoung just shakes his head, gaze focused on his lap.

You’re not sure what to say or what to do. Wooyoung’s face is twisted up with such guilt that it makes your heart hurt and a part of you wants to reach out and comfort him. Your hands twitch with the need to pull him close, to run your hands through his hair and tell him just what Yeosang has—that it wasn’t his fault.

But none of that makes any sense.

Then, as the silence continues, that familiar pang in your head returns. It catches you by surprise, a small whimper leaving your lips as your hand moves to clutch at your head, eyes twisting shut.

“Woo,” you call, voice weak and a broken whisper. Everything hurts, your skin is burning and you want to reach out for him but you can’t—there’s no strength left in your body. “Woo, please.”

Wooyoung is a few feet away from you, desperately trying to crawl his way to you through the fire. It’s hopeless, even you’ve realized that as you watch him desperately try to reach you. The fire is too high, too hot and the building is falling apart by the second.

“Y/N, baby,” Wooyoung yells, pitched in panic. “It’s okay, baby. I’m coming, I’m gonna get you to safety. I promise, princess.”

A series of choked, ragged coughs breaks through your lips, chest heaving as the smoke makes your eyes water and your throat close in on you. You can hear Wooyoung calling for you, his concern increasing at the broken coughs leaving your lips. The floor creaks beneath you, shifting and your eyes widen with the realization that the floorboard you’re currently on is breaking due to the fire.

Letting out a whimper, you use the last bit of your strength to turn your body over, allowing you a better sight of Wooyoung. His eyes are already on you, pushing past a knocked over dresser to get closer to you.

“Woo,” you call again, “Woo, listen to me.”

“It’s okay, princess,” Wooyoung continues, shaking his head. “Just hold on a little longer. I’m… I’m almost there.”

“Woo, please.”

He pauses, body halting as he shifts his full focus back on you, chest heaving, coughs wracking through his own body, and his face split in terror.

He’s terrified of losing you.

The floor creaks again and you know you only have a matter of seconds.

“I love you all,” you whisper, smiling softly at the alpha despite the circumstances. “Please tell the pack I love you all.”

“You’ll tell them yourself, baby,” Wooyoung argues, moving back to trying to fight his way over to you. “You can tell them!”

Letting out a broken sob, you shake your head. “Please,” you whisper, your eyes welling with tears as the reality sinks in and the despair hits you full force. You’re going to die. You’re going to leave the eight men you love the most.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung screams, finally having caught on to what you have. “Y/N, hold on!”

You feel the floor giving out beneath you, the wood burning away due to the fire and the heat that surrounds you like a persistent chokehold. You focus on spending those last few seconds staring at Wooyoung, taking in all of him that you can, and think of your seven other mates that you loved so much.

“Y/N! Please, baby…!”

Then, the floor gives out beneath you.

“—Y/N? Y/N? Come on, sweetheart, come back to us.”

Gasping, you sit forward, bracing yourself on the edge of the table as you frantically try and catch your breath. Yeosang, Mingi and Wooyoung have stood up, surrounding you as their hands hover over you, obviously wanting to reach for you but not sure if you’d be okay with that. Through the rapid beating of your heart, your vision clears as the world returns to you, and you realize just what that memory was.

The memory of your death.

“Baby?” Wooyoung calls, and the sound of his voice makes your eyes water beyond your control. “Baby, why are you crying? What’s wrong, hm?”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Mingi says, “answer us.”

Pressing your hands to your face, you shake your head.

Their scents surround you, Wooyoung’s warm spice of cinnamon and caramel, Yeosang’s green tea and Mingi’s ocean and fresh linen scent wrapping you up like a warm blanket. It’s comforting in a way it shouldn’t be but it’s starting to get hard to deny the truth that stares you blank in the face. It’s not just their actions, it’s not just the clothes and the framed photo, it’s the memories too. Memories of your life you’ve wanted for so long, returning to you in short bursts beyond your control that makes you so overwhelmingly sad it’s too much to bare.

“Y/N, look at me.” Yeosang says, crouching in front of you. “You need to breathe.”

You know he’s right, but it’s hard for you to focus on that as you finally remember how you died.

Hands fall on your cheeks, cupping them, and even though you normally would’ve flinched away, you don’t in that moment, that familiar cinnamon and caramel flooding your senses so completely it helps you breathe. Your gaze is pulled to Wooyoung who’s crouched in front of you, worried eyes meeting your own as he uses the pads of his thumbs to brush your tears away and coos at you softly.

“It’s okay, princess,” he whispers. “You’re safe. I promise.”

Inhaling deeply, you nod, leaning into his touch as you take deep breaths. A hand falls on your back, soothing rubbing circles as another brushes your hair back from your face. The three alphas work in tandem with one another, perfectly in sync as they comfort you in the exact way you need it.

And then, when you’ve caught your breath, you let out the shaky whisper of; “I remember how I died.”

Wooyoung’s face falls and Mingi and Yeosang glance at each other, lips curved down into deep frowns. 

“I remember being in that building, surrounded by fire,” you continue, slowly raising your gaze to meet Wooyoung’s once again. “And I remember you, trying to get to me, screaming for me, before the floor gave out beneath me.”

“Y/N…”

“Is it really true then?” You ask, turning from Wooyoung to glance at Mingi and then Yeosang. “I was a part of your pack? I was… your omega?”

They are silent for a moment, before Mingi answers; “it’s true, baby.”

“Losing you destroyed us,” Yeosang explains. “We… We were a shell of ourselves.”

That makes you think, eyes widening as your lips part. “And… that’s why you are a part of the mafia?”

“No,” Wooyoung says then, almost reluctant, and for some scary reason, his voice sounds… guilty. “We’ve always been… Even before, with you.”

You tense, disbelief coursing through you. “With me? I… I was just okay with it?”

Yeosang’s face twists and his hand stills on your back. “You helped us.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for that. Something sick and twisted festers in the pit of your stomach and even though the words seem like they could never be true, something in the back of your head tells you that it is.

“Never a part of it, not like us,” Mingi shakes his head. “We’d never let you, never put you in danger like that. But you helped with strategy, helped with the business side of things.”

“Jesus,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your chest. 

If you were a part of it, doesn’t matter how, then… then that meant you were no better than any of them. You’ve lived the past two years trying to be good, trying to do good, even when the easier solution would’ve been to turn to something lesser than. Only, turns out none of that meant anything because the you from before actively participated and helped eight men hurt, torture and kill people all for the name of the game.

You from before helped kill men like Chul-soo.

And for some twisted, fucked-up reason that didn’t bother you. The realization sunk in and it took your breath away, but it was easier to swallow than you’d assumed it would be. And that? That terrified you.

“That fire,” you breathe, seeing it in your own mind. “How… How did it happen?”

All three of them remain silent. As a minute passes and you don’t hear anything, you glance up at them, baffled, only to see their faces twisted up and their alpha instincts bleeding out as they refuse to answer you.

“I think—”

“I think that that conversation is for another time.”

Your back straightens at the voice, senses turning to high alert as you recognize the voice to be Hongjoong’s. Your head instantly snaps in the direction of his voice, finding him standing at the entrance to the dining room with the rest of the pack filtering in behind him. Yeosang, Mingi and Wooyoung pull away but still hover close, and you watch as San slips into the dining room, making his way over to Wooyoung as if he could sense he was the most upset out of everyone in the room.

Yunho steps towards Mingi and Yeosang moves to check on Jongho as Seonghwa sticks by Hongjoong’s side.

You swallow thickly.

“I feel I have a right to know,” you argue, ignoring the fear racing through your body at the sight of the pack alpha. “It’s how I died.”

Hongjoong lets out a warning growl, a clear sign to shut up, as Seonghwa shakes his head next to him, as if exasperated by you. It makes you feel like a scolded child, biting your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out and getting yourself in even more trouble.

“How’d the meeting go?” Yeosang asks, turning from Jongho to face his pack alpha. “Smoothly?”

“Relatively,” Seonghwa shrugs, but something about the tension in his jaw tells you that’s not the complete truth. “They’re willing to continue playing friends for the time being, but I don’t trust them.”

“Me neither,” San agrees, nodding as he looks up from Wooyoung who is currently cuddled into his side. “There’s something… off about them.”

Mingi sighs from behind you, “we’ll have to be careful then.”

Hongjoong nods, sharp and determined. “We’ll up our security, especially considering Y/N’s now home. We can’t take any risks.”

That catches your attention—really, all of it had, but the direct mention of security and you had you concerned. “Am I in danger?” You ask, ignoring the way all eyes snap to you, keeping your gaze on Hongjoong who stares back at you. 

“No,” Hongjoong says, blunt and clear. “You’ll never be in any sort of danger again.”

And he says the words with such definite confidence, as if because he doesn’t doubt his own words, neither should you. And for some reason, you do believe him.

None of what they’d said made any sense to you. You knew it had something to do with their “business”, to do with… whatever it was they did but they were all particularly vague so none of it really made any sense. You figure that was on purpose so as to keep you in the dark. You might’ve helped them in the past, but it was clear none of them wanted you to help, at least not now. Probably didn’t trust you.

Not that you could blame them.

Swallowing thickly, you nod; “okay…”

Hongjoong sighs then, running his hand through his hair as the exhaustion of the day, despite it only being morning, settles in on his face. You haven’t really taken a close look at him since they’d taken you, at least not willingly, but you see the bags under his eyes and the ever persistent frown on his lips. When your eyes flicker across the rest of the pack, they all in their own way look similarly.

Seonghwa looks stressed, Jongho’s entire body is tense as if on alert. Yeosang beside him has a hand on the younger man's shoulder, but you can see it tremble even from here. Wooyoung is still holding onto San tightly, their expressions mirroring one another. Yunho is fiddling with his sleeves as Mingi tries to stop him, although the latter is biting at his lip at the same time.

Was it because of you? Was it because of… that group, whoever they were, that they’d mentioned?

For such powerful men, they looked… fragile to you then.

“Y/N.”

Startled at the sound of your name, you blink out of your thoughts, turning to Hongjoong who’d called for you.

“Come with me.”

He moves to walk off, but you stay seated, brows furrowed; “where are we going?”

The second San shuts the door behind you, you’re looking for a way out.

The first, most obvious choice, is the window. You rush towards it, moving to pull it up and huffing when it doesn’t budge. You give another pull, only to look closer when it still doesn’t budge. Sure enough, the window is bolted shut. 

You should’ve expected that.

Frowning, you glance out the window, taking in what you can only assume is the back part of the house. There’s a small little garden and courtyard of sorts, and beyond that is a lake and what looks like a dense forest. You’re also quite high up, so even if the window had opened, you’re not sure if you’d be able to make that jump.

Head turning around, you glance towards the door. San had said they were meeting for “business”, right? Maybe you could sneak by and get out.

Moving towards the door, you reach for the handle, silently praying it isn’t locked as you push the handle down. A single tug confirms your worst fear and it’s clear when the door doesn’t budge that they had locked you in.

“Assholes,” you huff.

Stepping back, you glance around the room. It’s a rather large bedroom, with a large bed, the one you’d woken up in, in the middle of the room. There’s a dresser on one side and a night table on the other. There’s a desk on the other side, and it looks like it hasn’t been touched for a long time.

Other than that, there’s two doors. One leads into a bathroom and the other a walk in closet. It isn’t just the sheer size of said closet that takes your breath away but the amount of clothes that fills the racks and drawers. 

You step in, letting your fingers brush against the clothing, and can’t help but notice how soft everything is. It’s also all very clearly woman clothing; dresses, blouses, skirts and the like. All fancy, all expensive, and for some reason, it all feels weirdly familiar. As you continue to walk through the closet, you come to a stop when you notice a section full of lingerie and silky nightgowns. They’re in an array of colours and designs and some are more revealing than others.

Your face twists; “as if I’d ever wear any of this for them.”

You’re not sure if that’s the intention. You’re not sure why these clothes are here or who they belong to or why they feel familiar, but if they’re here because they think you'll dress up for them, they’re up for a pretty nasty awakening.

Rolling your eyes, you move to walk back out, but something catches the corner of your eye. Halting in your step, you crouch, reaching for the item, pulling it out to find out it’s a framed picture. It’s been placed in a box of what looks like more framed pictures, and pulling the one you’d grabbed closer, a gasp leaves your lips at what you find.

It’s you. A younger you. A younger you that is smiling widely, as if you’ve never been happier, surrounded by the same eight men holding you captive. They all look equally as happy as you, though some of their smiles are softer than others. You’re wrapped up in the arms of who you recognize to be Wooyoung, leaning against his chest with ease. Mingi is standing behind you, hand on your back as the other six surround the three of you.

You can barely believe your own eyes.

They weren’t lying.

“We weren’t lying.”

Gasping at the voice, you jump, the framed picture falling out of your hands and falling to the ground with a loud shatter as the glass breaks. Your eyes meet Jongho’s, the youngest alpha of the pack, standing at the entrance to the walk-in closet, arms crossed over his chest.

“How… How is this possible?” You breathe, shaking your head as your eyes lower to the now shattered framed picture. 

“We don’t know,” Jongho says, shaking his head as he takes a step into the room. “We… We thought you died… We thought we lost you.” His voice cracks as he continues, face twisting in distress as if the mere mention of the memory is too painful. “Eventually, we couldn’t stand to see your room the way you left it and so we put some of your stuff away. Not because we didn’t care, but because we cared too much.”

None of this makes any sense. You know you don’t have any memories of your life before the age twenty-two, but to forget your pack? Your family? It was too painful to even think about. That you’ve spent the last three years alone, starved for attention, used by a man who didn’t care about you and only liked the money you brought in, while there was a whole pack waiting for you?

That loves you? Or, at least, loved you?

Part of you didn’t even care that they were a part of the mafia if that was true. You were so desperate for love, real, genuine love and care, that you didn’t want to care about if what they did was morally wrong. But then you remember Yunho shooting that man right between the eyes, no hesitation, and even if that man had threatened you, that was still murder.

Then you think of Chul-soo. Chul-soo who was an awful boyfriend and an even more pathetic man, but they’d still murdered him.

It was too confusing. It was too much.

“I… I can’t,” you gasp, your feet moving beneath you before you can think properly. Jongho is clearly stunned by it too, missing you by an inch as you push past him. You turn towards the door, noticing that it’s wide open after Jongho came in. This is it, you think, heart racing at the thought of getting away, this is your chance to escape.

You hear Jongho call out for you but you don’t look back, racing down the steps San had led you up only a little bit ago. When you reach the bottom, you hesitate, only for a second, head spinning every which way to find your escape. Their house is large and Seonghwa had only led you through a small part of it, so, with no other option, you turn, moving in the direction of the kitchen.

Maybe there’d be a back door. Maybe you could—

It all comes crashing down on you the second you run into a firm chest. It literally knocks you back, the force of your run and the sheer wall of a chest sending you flying back. Only, you don’t fall, hands reaching out and grabbing your arms to catch you. The smell of the ocean and fresh linen floods your senses as you blink, dazed.

“Woah.”

Panting, you glance up, cursing when you meet Mingi’s surprised gaze.

Footsteps follow just seconds after, Jongho’s breath heavy as he reaches the both of you.

“Jjongie?” Mingi calls, his tone sweet with the pet name before his brows furrow in confusion, glancing at you and then back at the frazzled alpha. “What’s going on?”

Jongho huffs and you cower at the glare he sends you; “she took—”

“What the hell is going on?” A booming voice cuts in, and you freeze at the familiar sound of Hongjoong’s voice. Out of everyone, you were most scared of him, remembering how quickly he had pinned you against the wall and how you’d lost control of yourself within seconds at his smell and presence.

“Y/N took off on me,” Jongho calls out, voice tinged in frustration as he glances back at his pack leader. A glance back of your own, still trapped against Mingi’s chest, tells you Hongjoong is not alone and the rest of the pack is with him.

Shit.

“She tried to escape.”

“I was just coming back from grabbing a snack,” Mingi says then, his face clearing as he realizes what you’d been doing. You feel his hands tighten around you in response and you try to ignore the way it makes your heart flutter or the way your omega whines out alpha in response. “She literally ran right into me.”

Silence follows. Tense and loud.

And so, you react.

Struggling in Mingi’s extremely strong grasp, you cry out in frustration, pushing at his chest as you glance from him to the rest in wild panic. “You all are crazy!” You scream out, unable to stop yourself. The words feel wrong on your own lips, and yet, you can’t stop yourself from saying them. “You stand there telling me I’m your mate, that I died and you missed me! And yet, you fucking kidnapped me after threatening to murder my boyfriend and then actually murdering him!

“You lock me in that bedroom like a prisoner! In a bedroom that has weird fucking clothes and lingerie and framed photos of me with you all! This is insane! I don’t know you! I don’t know any of—”

“That’s enough.”

The words pouring from your lips stop in an instant. Every muscle in your body freezes at the low, deep command that carries through the room. It’s no doubt Hongjoong and it makes you feel terrified and turned on all at the same time.

Chest rising and falling, you swallow thickly, Mingi finally letting go of you as you turn to face Hongjoong. He’s in front of you, just as terrifying as he’d been before. The rest of the pack stands behind him, sans Mingi, but you can’t focus on them.

Only Hongjoong. 

“You are ours,” he starts, voice levelled, careful. “You were ours before and you are ours now. You’ll come to realize that, but until then, we’ll remind you as many times as it takes. We’re a pack, a family, but I won’t tolerate such disrespect. Your boyfriend,” he spits the word with disgust. “I should’ve killed him ages ago, in a more slow and painful way, for ever touching what’s ours. For ever putting his hands on you. I’ll kill any one who puts their hands on my pack, and that includes you.”

Letting out a shuttering breath, you lick your lips.

“Now, it’s late,” Hongjoong says, his lips curling into a small, thin, terrifying smile. “You’ll return to your room and retire for the night. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss more.”

You want to argue. You want to say no, tell him he can’t just tell you what to do.

But all you do is nod.

You dream of the fire.

You dream of the fire burning your skin, the smoke making you choke, the feeling of suffocating slowly and burning to death painfully. 

You dream of voices. Voices screaming for you, crying out for you.

You wake with a start, heart racing and sitting up straight as you try and catch your breath. A quick glance around tells you you’re still in the room they’d locked you in, your old bedroom Yeosang had explained, and you’re still alone. The door in front of you is still closed and you can assume it is still locked.

The sun bleeding in through the window tells you it’s early morning. You’re surprised you were even able to fall asleep, especially because the last thing you remember is tossing and turning. You figure you must’ve just passed out from exhaustion eventually.

Sighing, you move to stand, stretching out your limbs. The action gives you a quick whiff of yourself and your nose scrunches, realizing you can’t remember the last time you showered. You’re still in your work clothes, a fact you’d been thankful for before because it meant none of them had dressed you but a fact you find distressing now. You feel disgusting.

Then, you remember the attached bathroom.

Decision made, you move towards the closet. It takes you longer than you’d like to find something suitable to wear, but you don’t want any of them to think this is a sign of submission. You chose a skirt reluctantly when you realize there isn’t a pair of pants and a long sleeved blouse, also grabbing some underwear and a bra. You guess there was one plus about this closet supposedly being yours; everything was in your size.

You also notice the broken framed picture is gone, meaning someone had cleaned it at some point. You don’t let yourself think about that anymore.

The bathroom is beautiful. You scoff at the realization and grab a towel and some soap and are thankful there’s shampoo and conditioner as you turn on the shower. You take your time, enjoying the feeling of the warm properly pressured water that is ten times better than your own back home. It’s nice to wash the grime off, and when you step out, drying yourself off and getting dressed, you have to reluctantly admit that the clothes are nice on your body.

Omega’s were sensitive to textures, but nice textures cost more money. You’d never had the funds to afford suitable clothes, so you'd suffer with rashes and discomfort all day. The clothes on your back now feel like heaven.

Once dressed, you step out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

“It’s wonderful to see you in the clothes we’ve bought for you again.”

Letting out a scream at the voice, your head snaps up, wide eyes falling on Yeosang who sits on your bed, leaned back and completely unbothered by the fact that he’d invited himself inside without permission. 

“Sorry, jagiya,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to startle.”

“You could’ve knocked!” You exclaim, stepping back, choosing to ignore the pet name.

Yeosang snorts, sitting forward. “It’s my house.”

“I could’ve been naked!”

“Not the first time I would’ve seen you naked, Y/N,” he says, simple and to the point. 

Bristling, you huff. “What do you want?”

“It’s breakfast,” he explains, moving to stand. You frown when he crosses the distance over to you, reaching out for you and brushing a wet strand of your hair away from your face. You’d wanted to step away, but it was getting harder to resist these men.

Instinctively, you wanted their touch. Wanted their care. Their love.

“I’ve come to collect you.”

Biting your lip, you swallow thickly, hesitating.

“Don’t worry,” Yeosang smiles, seeing through you clearly. “Hongjoong-hyung is away for… business. Seonghwa-hyung, Yunho-hyung, Sannie and Jjongie too. It’ll just be me, Mingi-ah and Wooyoung-ah.”

That helps settle you, at least a little.

“But you’ll have to deal with him eventually.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “I’m not scared.”

Yeosang smirks; “you shouldn’t be. Hyung would never hurt you.”

You beg to doubt, but you choose not to say that.

They said you burned in a fire. They said it’s a miracle you’re alive.

You’re twenty-two when your life starts, truly starts, because you have no memory of the past twenty-two years you lived before the fire. No memory of your childhood, of your parents, if you have siblings. The hospital says that you have no living family, at least not any they can track down, and so, you truly are alone.

And you’ve spent the last two years trying to ignore the pressing, large gap of your life you can’t remember. That makes no sense. Blurred faces and faint memories that whisper to you, mainly at night, but never make sense. You know you’re an omega, you know you’re a woman, you know the basics. But that’s it.

You spend that first year alone, barely getting by. When you meet Chul-soo, you latch onto him. Part of it is because he’s decently nice to you, part of it is because you’re just so lonely you’re desperate for any sort of affection you can receive. And so, you stick by him even as he wastes all your money on gambling and alcohol and drugs. You stick by him even when he puts you in debt which forces you to get a third job. You stick by him even as he does nothing.

You wonder if you hadn’t, if you had just left him, if they still would’ve found you.

“—We thought she was dead!”

“I know…”

“We just… left her there!”

“No, no… We tried…— We tried to search for her body! Wooyoung nearly died too trying—”

“None of that matters right now. Not right now… Guys, she doesn’t even remember us.”

The flood of rushed, whispered voices around you makes your head pang painfully. Your eyes flutter open and the light that meets your eyes makes you flinch, a small whimper leaving your lips. As you move, you recognize something soft beneath you, softer than any bed you can remember laying on.

And then, it all comes rushing back.

Chul-soo. Guns. The mafia. Yunho. Yunho shooting someone.

“How can that even be? How can she—”

“Wait, is she…”

“She’s awake.”

Your chest tightens, swallowing thickly. You hadn’t even thought of whether you could pretend to be asleep or not and they’d already noticed your slight movements, as if they were so closely attuned to your movements. 

Forcing your eyes open, you brace yourself, pushing yourself up. What you find is something that scares you more than anything ever has before. Standing in front of you are eight men, eight men dressed in similar fine suits that Yunho had been in, all staring at you, surrounding you. You see Yunho first, standing near the back, that familiar heavy gaze centered on you. He’s wearing a slightly different outfit, a black button up with a brown leather coat on.

Then, your eyes drift across the rest. The one standing to Yunho’s left is a slightly taller man, dark long hair brushed back from his face, dressed in a completely black suit with no blouse beneath it, showing a bit of his chest off. An alpha.

The one next to him is only slightly shorter, a sharp, angular nose and glasses perched low on them. He’s wearing a tan suit with a black tie, his hair also brushed back with one loose strand framing his face. Alpha.

The next one is shorter, the shortest of the eight, but he screams the most intimidating of them all. He’s got an eyepatch on his right eye, brown hair framing his face in a mullet style, with a black, leather coat and gloves. He’s an alpha, but not just an alpha, something tells you he’s the one in charge. You can tell by the way he stands, by the way the rest surround him.

The last one standing in the back is around the same height, shorter black hair with a black suit and black tie. Alpha, too.

The first on the left standing in front is taller, sharp features and even shorter black hair. He’s quite buff, with strong shoulders. He’s wearing a black leather coat as well, hands shoved in his pockets. Another alpha.

In the middle is a slightly skinnier man, black hair framing his face in a laid-back, carefree way. His suit is even more relieving than the others, his suit jack completely unbuttoned, showing off his chest. Alpha.

The last one is the tiniest of them all, with short blonde hair and a dark brown suit with a striped tie. He has the softest features, and a birth mark around his left eye. He’s also an alpha.

So, the eight men around you, who you can only assume are a pack by the way they’re standing next to each other, are all alphas. You’re surrounded by eight alphas, eight physically stronger men that naturally overpower you because of your second gender as an omega. Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t focus on that for long, however, because much like what had happened when you’d met Yunho’s gaze for the first time, a sharp pain pangs in your forehead. This time, it’s even stronger than before, making the cry that leaves your lips strangled and desperate as you fall into yourself.

This time, it’s not one coherent memory. This time, it’s a flurry of memories that mix together in a way that makes no sense.

“I’ll be the one to bite you first, my love. Mark you as mine.”

“You like it when your alpha takes care of you, hm?”

“You’re my pretty girl. I’m never letting you go.”

“I like cuddling with you. Makes my alpha happy.”

“Come here, honey. Let alpha take care of you.”

“Why do you think I’m so strong? It’s to protect you, baby. Duh.”

“Princess, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’ll start screaming."

“You need to eat, Y/N. Here, let me feed you.”

“We love—”

“—want to help us, baby?”

“—Y/N! Y/N! Please, baby, just call out for—”

Gasping, your eyes fly open, heaving in breath as you brace yourself on the bed. You feel like you can’t breathe, heart racing madly as you try to make sense of what you just saw. It was like the dreams you’ve always had but far more powerful, far more real. Beyond all of that, even through the rush of words being said to you, you saw them.

Those eight men.

“Y/N, love, are you okay?” 

“What happened? She cried out in pain!”

“Here, sweetheart, drink some water.”

They’re all around you, closer than before. They’d surrounded you in their panic, a mixture of worried eyes staring down at you, fretting over you, in a way that is far too stifling as you try to make sense of what’s even happening. Here you were, in some unfamiliar place, the last thing you remember is seeing one of these men shoot a man point blank in the face, after finding out your boyfriend had been stealing from the mafia. Surrounded by men that were appearing in your memories, dreams, whatever, but that were very clearly dangerous and that you didn’t know, had you reacting without thought.

When a hand reaches for you, you slap it away, screaming out; “don’t touch me!” before pushing yourself off the bed. You make it one step before your legs give out beneath you, too panicked to think clearly, slamming to the ground with a cry of pain.

“Careful,” someone calls, pitched in worry. “You’re still weak.”

“Don’t—! Don’t come near me!”

You hold your hand out in front of you, shuffling back as the eight men step towards you. You don’t know why, but they do stop, even though it’s clear on every one of their facial expressions it’s the last thing they want to do.

Trembling on the spot, you stare up at them. “Where… Where am I?”

No one answers, not right away. They all look at each other, sharing what you can only assume is some sort of private conversation you’re not privy to, before the head alpha, the one in charge, turns back to you, answering. “You’re home.”

His words frustrate you. What the hell is that even supposed to mean? “Where’s home?” You ask, shaking your head.

“Somewhere safe.”

They were insufferable. 

Eyes narrowing, you huff. “That’s not an answer.”

The alpha doesn’t back down. “It’s the best we can give.”

Inhaling sharply, you huff again, moving to push yourself to a stand. You see them flinch out in response, as if to reach for you, but when you stumble back, they stop, letting you stand on their own. It takes quite a bit of effort, but you do it, helping you feel not quite as vulnerable even though most of them still tower over you.

“Where’s Chul-soo?”

Their expressions glower at that, and this time, it isn’t the head alpha who speaks.

“Why are you asking about him?” The blonde alpha hisses, eyes darkening in a deeply primal way. It makes your heart race.

You hold your footing though; “he’s my boyfriend.”

Your response is a series of growls, loud and threatening in a way that has your omega whimpering in fear. You suddenly feel vulnerable in a different way than before, eyes flickering across them all as you take in their snarls and red eyes.

“He’s a piece of shit, sorry excuse for a human being,” the alpha with the sharp nose huffs. “And he’s no longer worth your concern.”

That makes you freeze. “Is he… Is he dead?”

“Yes.”

You’re not quite sure how to describe the rush of emotions that floods through you. There’s sorrow, grief, loss because despite everything, he was your boyfriend and you did care for him. Especially to know he died in such a… horrific way doesn’t make you feel any better. But, still, you can’t deny the relief that sinks in too, the weight that lifts off your shoulders at the confirmation.

It makes you feel sick to yourself.

“You… You monsters…”

You barely see it before there’s suddenly a body right in front of you, hands on your waist and moving you to press you against the wall behind you. It takes your breath away, body tensing in panic as the scent of leather and amber surrounds you. It’s the head alpha, and his face has split into an even nastier snarl than before, eyes glowing a bright red as he pins you against the wall. His scent is soured and laced with anger, his breath heavy as he leans towards you.

You want to fight back. You want to push him off. You’re scared, beyond so, but at the same time, his scent makes you feel a way you’ve never felt before. It surrounds you like a blanket, piercing through your lungs and making your omega call out for him, for alpha.

Your body trembles in response.

“We’re only monsters for you,” he says, voice low and heavy. “He wanted to trade your life for his, omega. Begged us not to kill him, told us we could have you. He only cared about himself.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to hold back the broken whimper that leaves your lips at his words. It’s futile, face falling as the truth of Chul-soo’s betrayal really settles in. 

“Besides,” he continues, not faltering once. “Now that we have you again, we don’t plan on letting you go. Ever.”

Eyes watering, the tears fall past your eyes beyond your control, hiccupping in response as you ask with a shaky whisper; “why?”

His answer comes swift and without hesitation; “because you’re ours.”

“You should eat something.”

Sighing, you stare at the plate of food in front of you, your stomach rumbling in hunger and yet, the mere thought of taking a bite makes you feel like you might throw up.

“Not hungry.”

Seonghwa, the alpha with the sharp nose, sighs from beside you, moving to take a seat at the table right beside you. After your break down, the eight men had introduced themselves to you, though not without the mention said sourly from Wooyoung, the skinnier alpha, that they shouldn’t even have to introduce themselves to their mate.

Regardless, they still had.

Hongjoong, the head and pack alpha and the one that had pinned you against the wall had explained that you were one of their mates, their youngest mate and omega that they had thought they’d lost three years ago. He and everyone else had refused to elaborate more than that and none of them had taken kindly when you tried to convince them they must have the wrong omega.

Then, Seonghwa said that more conversation could come later and you should eat something.

So, he led you to their dining room, and you had marveled with barely contained disbelief at how large their house was. It was architecture you’d never seen before, grand and expensive in taste and nothing you’d have ever been able to afford in your lifetime.

So, really, it shouldn’t have surprised you when you saw a maid step forward with a plate and a glass of water for you and deliver it to you with a swift bow in Seonghwa’s direction.

“You were unconscious for a whole day,” Seonghwa frowns. “You need to eat.”

You turn to him, meeting his gaze and sigh at the determined look in his gaze. 

“Chul-soo is really dead?”

Seonghwa’s face flinches at the sound of his name, his eyes narrowing as a low, guttural growl leaves his lips. You curl into yourself, backing up into your seat, and at that, Seonghwa seems to ease, sighing heavily.

“Yes,” he says, short and sharp. “I’m the one who killed him.”

Biting your lip, you grip your thighs tightly beneath the table. “And… you won’t let me go?”

“Never,” Seonghwa says, this time his voice softer but still as blunt. “We’ll never let you out of our sight again.”

That does nothing to make you feel better.

“You really are… mafia?”

Seonghwa hesitates at that, as if not sure how to answer. At his silence, you finally turn to look at him again, and his gaze softens at the fearful gaze in your eyes. “Yes,” he nods, short and concise. “But no harm will come to you. Not again, I promise.”

Feeling your eyes water, you let out a shaky breath. “That makes you dangerous.”

Seonghwa’s reaction is quick. He leans forward, his fingertips brushing against your cheek before you can move away, and the second you feel his skin against your own, you’re unable to pull away, entranced at the feeling. His scent is softer than Hongjoong’s, sweeter in a way that makes your skin tingle, vanilla and orchid and for some reason it makes your heart flutter.

“Not to you,” he whispers. “Never to you.”

And you can’t find a single lie in his voice.

Shoulders falling, you nod, forcing yourself to pull away from his touch even though your omega cries out in response. Seonghwa frowns, and it looks like he’s going to say something, but then you reach for your food and that seems to placate him.

You sit there in silence for a few moments, the only sound is you eating. Seonghwa doesn’t look away from you once, watching you closely with a care and attentiveness you’re not used to, and it makes you uncomfortable.

It makes your omega, however, preen in happiness.

Then, as you instinctively reach for your neck, moving to itch, you frown when you don’t feel your familiar scent patch.

Dropping your utensils, you reach again, thinking maybe it had moved or shifted, but there’s nothing there. “Where’s… Where’s my scent patch?”

“Oh, that thing?” Seonghwa hums, unfussed. “Yunho took it off.”

Your eyes widen; “why?”

“Because it hides your scent,” Seonghwa frowns, shaking his head. “Makes you smell… like something chemical. Not like your typical, sweet scent we all love. There’s no reason to wear those.”

It was true you’d never enjoyed wearing them. It was true it made you smell chemically clean. But that had been something you’d had control in, something that made you safe. Not having your scent, your overly sweet and obviously omegan scent so open, bleeding into every room you walked into, helped you feel less vulnerable. And in a situation like this, with eight men who were convinced you were their missing pack mate, alphas and mafia members, something like that would’ve made you feel just a bit safer.

“That’s… You can’t just do that,” you cry out.

“Yes, we can,” Seonghwa says, as if you were the one being unreasonable. “None of my packmates need to hide their scents like some… like it’s something shameful. You have a beautiful scent, Y/N. You won’t be hiding it anymore.”

Licking your lips, you push back your plate of food. “I’m done eating now.”

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa frowns, “you barely touched—”

“I’m done.”

His face shifts at that, something dark flooding his features at the attitude in your tone. His lips part, moving to say something, but before he can, another voice cuts in;

“Hyung.”

Both of your gazes snap towards the dining room entrance, finding San, the built alpha. His eyes flicker from Seonghwa, to you where he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before finally turning back to Seonghwa.

“Hongjoong-hyung needs you,” San says. “Business,” he explains, clearly keeping it short and vague because of you. “I’ll take Y/N to her room and meet you back there.”

Seonghwa glances back at you, as if debating whether to finish your conversation, before he huffs, moving to a stand. You watch him leave, reaching for San and pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping past the younger alpha. You look away at the sight of the intimate action, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Come on,” San calls out a moment later, and you turn only to find him in front of you, hand outstretched. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

You scoff; “I’m not a child.”

San doesn’t entertain you with a response, simply just continues to stare at you, palm held towards you.

Eventually, after a minute of tense, stifling silence, you roll your eyes, moving to a stand and directly ignore San’s hand.