#alpha!rm

‘I felt the mating mark heat up around five in the morning but figured it wouldn’t be a problem until at least seven. But, just in case, I also set a monthly reminder because getting up early in the morning remains an art I’ll never master.’ The enjoyment of the previously made comment fades from a round face as the lingering negativity not washed away by warm drops unfortunately not filled with oblivion is noticed. Of course, it does not pass under the radar since the she-wolf immediately knows it when something bothers a person or peer, mainly due to working in the medicinal branch related to animals and thus also having to interact with their owners. Not that it is hard to miss in general if one is to go by the melancholy air about a posture that tries to hide the nightmare.

Briefly, eyes show a pop of honey gold, the severe mood bringing out the motherly omega. ‘You had that dream again, didn’t you?’

A nod, confirming the answer without speaking. Although genuine concern clearly comes through in speech, there is nothing that can be done to make the mind stop replaying the corrupted memory.

Nothing ever will be able to do so until sight has been graced with Y/N, alive and well, away from the community hidden within society.

A strange pity comes through in the vet assistant’s attitude, quite unlike the sort normally shown at the mention of what punishment Imagination conjured up during the dusky hours. Somehow that unrecognizable emotion strengthens the sense of something bigger having happened but missing out on the event and being blind to the impact.

Nonetheless, before a word can be spoken about the lingering suspicion - the sole other person available for talking to about personal beast-related problems is the absent psychiatrist who is a barista in his spare time in the bookstore - Seokjin rounds the corner, clearly elated at the sight of the small figure in the entryway.

‘Tess! Talk about timing. We were just about to eat.’ Wiping digits stained with the  traces of the preparation of the meal which is now unmistakably beckoning - bitter coffee mixed with the comforting scent of eggs and pancakes alongside that from the seasonal fruits - from the cherrywood dining table, a vapor of musk almost directly nullifies the fresher albeit regardlessly sickeningly nectarous scent emitted by a mate craving their alpha upon coming closer.

Ruby colours for a split second normally identical eyes, indicating actually having an appetite for a whole other type of sustenance yet wanting to keep up airs of normalcy for a defect pack member. Though it is well-meant, it does nothing in the way of feeling any more human than when going straight to the point and leaving the waiting meal for what it is.

Again irises change to a shade of crimson out of warning when briefly locking gazes, the instinct to protect especially against the attempted claim - or so it might feel like despite the lack of desire to actually do so - of another on the beloved moving the transformation instead of something personal. Judgment or conflict is never in place when real nature shows itself because, either intentionally or not, during this period of fertile madness Jin is not the overly caring sibling who makes cringingly bad jokes.

He is the very personification of the curse, the powerful and proud alpha.

The accomplished one, worthy of the old pure blood flowing through the veins.

Albeit a portrayal tainted by the endeavour to control it in favour of the brother who cannot cope with what becomes the other so incredibly well. The outcast who has never gained any sort of mastery over the second savage persona even after five years of hard training, discipline and medicines to repress primal urges once a month and put the overall bloodthirsty demon to as deep a slumber as possible.

All to no avail.

Still a failure after all.

A disgrace to the ancient Kim pack.

A low growl unintentionally escaping when putting an arm around shoulders reaching the height of the middle of the broad chest, the chef at home leads Tess to the dining room. Making sure all the while to steer her just outside the reach of another child of the moon, as the poets would say.

But there is nothing poetic about this story.

In spite of the underlying sentiment of rivalry in the current behaviour, there is no competition in vying for attention since a mark formed by pale pink ragged flesh, the wound has never truly healed, on the shoulder blade is the foundation for an unbreakable bond. Furthermore, the sole thing which has ever been wanted from the sibling’s partner is a listening ear and advice shaped by the greater knowledge about humanity, which has been cultivated by daily contact on a personal level with those unlike us. The latter, in particular, offers the comfort Seokjin at times cannot give due to not really having a sense of what it is like hating the image reflected in the mirror, resulting in mostly sitting on a nearby surface and fulfil the role of an absent deaf man.

Fortunately, the small girl does understand, though acceptance of the condition came soon after being mated by the same wolf who caused the radical shift in persona. It was a reckless decision, made on no other grounds than finally having the individual who has been held dear all this time as a part of the pack as an equal in terms of nature, regardless of thus adding credibility to the rumours about the illegal activities that have supposedly kept the bloodline alive.

Perhaps part of the accusations are true since not every relative, still walking the earth or concealed beneath its surface in eternal rest, has had to endure the curse from the moment of birth. Nevertheless, all of them have forgotten at a certain point what living is like by simply going day by day without any supernatural powers or being similar to any other little piece of existence strolling the pavement.

What it is like to be normal.

This type of ignorance was the reason for moving in with the brown-haired chef alongside the man’s recognition the current environment was everything but healthy, pushing the choice a bit under the mirage of unconsciously doing so to keep up appearances for parents unapproving of any wolf unlike them. Certainly of dishonouring mongrels running amok, though they have not found out up until this very day the youngest son is one.

Breakfast passes in silence devoid of the comfortable atmosphere normally hanging in the air, even during the week wherein getting proper rest is pretty much impossible for each affected party because of various reasons. Eyes try to remain focused on the stack of golden pancakes dribbled over with honey which softens the bitter taste of the daily espresso, but thoughts keep drifting off to the images repeating themselves through the night and the nagging feeling of overlooking something significant. The latter especially applies this morning thanks to Tess’s weird expression earlier regardless of the fact it might not be related to the suspicion whatsoever.

‘Namjoon, are you- Babe, please, not yet.’ In place of opting for eating, the alpha across the table has begun softly nibbling on the mating mark on the side of a pale neck while purring, clearly wanting to retreat to the bedroom as fast as possible. However, the beloved obviously has another idea as a laborious push puts distance between a heated body aching with sensual craving and the one reacting to it but trying to hold off to make sure the third wheel is not dismissed without further notice. ‘Are you alright?’

Appetite entirely subsides as the gleaming polished metal fork is put down beside the half-filled plate, only one pancake having been touched at all. With an air of casualty to mask the growing sense of concern, the inquiry is answered. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like this is the first time it happened. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.’

‘He hasn’t told you, has he?’ The eyes of the smaller brown she-wolf soften before becoming fierce when turning to Jin, the stern sentiment flowing over in speech. ‘You said you’d talk to him.’

‘I forgot, dear.’ A shaking exhale betrays the inner fight for control, wanting to surrender to Primality already yet aware that the apparently important subject at hand needs to be discussed. ‘I didn’t want to trouble him and you know he can’t help it.’

‘Told me what? What’s going on?’ As has been the case from the moment of moving in with the older sibling, certain details have remained hidden out of the belief it would only benefit the care for a monster desperately and comically trying to play pretend at being human. Notwithstanding, the concealment has never continued over a longer period of time since aroused suspicions pushed the urge to gain answers despite their potential ugliness.

And it does so again right now, wanting to hear the true tale, aching to know about the damage.

Because, judging by the knot forming in the gut, the beast within has reigned supreme again in spite of the efforts to tame it.

I took the pills. But why can I remember a different taste of blood so vividly then? It was delicious. Human. I haven’t... I’m not a monster. The medication should have done its job and Jin would never take me to a place where people would be when I’m... not myself. I must be wrong. I have to be. But it was so so good.

‘Are you going to do it or shall I?’ The intonation of the vet assistant suggests a severe approach to the pressing topic is about to be taken and, apparently, by her since no reply comes from the barely sensible alpha. An almost inaudible resigning sigh escapes lips before softening the gaze turning towards the discombobulated and gradually getting more gravely agonized demonic bookseller. ‘Joon, do you remember where you were on the last full moon, two weeks ago?’

‘Why do you ask? I was in the woods, far away from the town.’ Nothing was different from the normal procedure on rough amnesiac nights, going to the remote forest in the distant valley about an hour and a half to two hours drive away from home after having made the necessary preparations.

Thus far there has been no obvious trigger for the discomfort making the body shift nervously from side to side on the chair, the ministrations ever so scarcely noticeable though the sharp animalistic senses belonging to the present company clearly pick up on the unrest. However, neither of the couple seems to have eased as well as the talk carries on. In fact, it can be said each party is only growing more restless in the face of reaching an outcome that cannot be evaded.

With a new question, though, it is nevertheless tried. ‘Did you take your medicines?’

At the discovery of the futility of the long hours of supervision and training, a final resort to medicinal treatment was taken after extensive research on effects and risks with Hoseok and Jin. The former dove deep into the archives and is the sole person with knowledge about how to make the non-lethal pills, which have been helpful in the attempts of becoming more like the man who is aspired to be like since they suppress the rutting symptoms to a bearable and manageable degree. Though still having to retreat from society for a hurtful long irregular week, the pain of being unmated alongside the haphazard transformations would have been grander were it not for the repressing concoction of wolfsbane and silver, just enough to keep the beast within sedated.

Such an untamable creature had not been dealt with since the last similarly powerful children of the moon had been eradicated by the end of the 17th century, all of them ticking time-bombs about to explode and betray the well-concealed kin and peers to the public. Henceforth, albeit bittersweet, multiple alphas, betas and omegas who were present during the executions were relieved that the secret remained in spite of not directly showing it in the direct light of the demise of faces both known and foreign.

Later on, as science developed and the belief in werewolves transformed into a mental disease called “lycanthropy”, renegade wolves were sent to asylums like Lambeth by family members in hopes of the doctors being able to help at least a bit in the transformation of an inherently savage nature. However, as with every form of progress, details were missing in the earliest versions of research, thus causing failures from which others might learn. Hence is why treatment regularly failed, ending in death either by an overdose on the mixture of poison taken today in a lesser amount as an anaesthetic or the syringe.

That was the fate for those who were given a chance at endeavouring, or were, rather, forced to change but still had help. Yet there were also the madhouses specifically designed for execution where most of the Oldbloods, ancient werewolf families like the Kims, sent their uncontrollable relatives for they were the true dangers to the civilization that were dealt with more cruelly in the past.

Far beyond redemption.

Like me.

Fortunately, with the extreme rareness of the condition nowadays and the mental institutions gradually closing, a sole one is left active to extract death punishment on order of The High Council, the organisation consisting of the heads of every Oldblood family and its branches which discusses issues like ongoing affairs and crimes against the race. Otherwise, they have become another fragment of the past obscured by human history while some remember the truth behind the story and fear the last living remnant.

A nod assures the reply to the pharmaceutical question, fairly certain if not entirely of having done nothing to stray from normal protocol. ‘Yes.’

But the short comment is taken with a grain of salt, motherly doubt coming through in the tone of the reaction. Although the alpha’s girlfriend means well - always taking care of not only the beloved boyfriend but also his brother in whom a sort of peer was found at the first meeting - the careful approach serves the irritation building up at being kept in the dark about something clearly gone wrong. ‘Are you sure?’

I did silence the voice of the wolf. But, the prey was delicious, the flesh was so tender despite the muscle. No, I took the pills. The hunt was certainly worth the trouble. No, there was nothing but sheep’s blood in the end.

But if that is the reality of the issue, then remembering should not end at the empty abyss forming part of the memory gap. ‘I think I did.’ Quick glances are shared between the omega and the mate on the adjacent seat, who manages to - albeit temporarily yet impressively - repress every primal desire to pick up on the mental war being waged across the table in the eyes of a haunted soul which has finally found the key to the reason for the nagging feeling of ignorance. Guilt mixes with fear and self-loathing into a dangerous concoction that mostly follows the image of having killed Y/N, unable to stop the creature from devouring her.

The sole grace which is sometimes granted is that the woman who was to become the wife of a bookseller is not raped before the crimson flows richly.

But this time around there is no redemption.

Only pure agony.

Gaze averts from the amiable company to the cherrywood surface of the table, trembling fists filled with inward hatred underneath. This should not be happening, been left behind long ago. This cannot end with death in a clinical environment if the building and reasoned assumption proves truthful. ‘What have I done?’

I should be better than this, be more in control of myself. This isn’t me, some murderous beast. I’ve never wanted to be like this. But... I am... and it has cost me my wife and now even myself. Why can’t I remember?

Seokjin proves to be the one to take the lead in breaking the news, pausing every so often to remain calm and composed, for as far as that is possible when the rut is tainting each aspect of common sense. ‘One of my employees, Jungkook, is hospitalized. He was camping with his girlfriend in the woods and was attacked by a rabid animal.’

Pause, taking a moment to clutch an arm around the stinging pain in the nether regions, the body sick of having to wait to procreate and wanting to start a family right this instance.

Continue, regret distorting a steady voice.

‘I went by during visiting hours last week for further investigation, ask a few questions, but he was barely conscious. Pumped full with morphine, fortunately, because a quick look under the sheets told me enough about the wound on his hip. Not a pretty sight and the pain can only be fathomed. However, he kept anxiously mumbling about a monster black as night with red eyes. I tried to make sense of it without thinking of you, Joon, I really did.’

Pause, trying to suppress a familiar potion of anger and inward hatred that has been drunk many times before by a bookseller.

Continue, a sliver of panic seeping in.

‘Later, as I was about to return home, I came across Hoseok in the hallway, worried just as much as I was. He, too, asked me the same questions we asked you because he said the woods where Jungkook was found were the place where we go on full moons.’ A hush befalls the room as the information is pieced together and sinks in. ‘I know I fucked up big time and for that, I am tremendously sorry. Jungkook just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, but you also know what this means. It is merely a matter of time before they find out and can use this against you, against our family. I know I am guilty of the crime of turning as well, but the rabidness inside will deliver you to the end of the line. I don’t want to lose my baby brother.’

‘Serves me right because I should be punished for the mistake, not our family. This is not worth losing ground over.’ For with the loss of honour, comes the loss of power. And that is not a burden to be placed upon the people who unintentionally failed in raising a second heir.

‘Namjoon...’

I’m sorry I failed you, Y/N. I know I should be apologetic to Jin, but it’s you who has kept me going all this time, let me anticipate a reunion. I’m sorry, baby. For everything. For never having been nor have the potential to be the right man if human at all. For being me.

None of us says it, but right across from amber and ruby eyes sits a disgrace unfit to ever lead the pack nor rule the territory in its name.

A lunatic that not even an asylum can save.

A dead man whose hands should have tied the noose already a long time ago.