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Whispers of Fate

Werewolf! Murata Fuma x female reader

Wordcount ≈ 36.2k

Warnings: violence, blood/injury, mind-control, hostage situation, emotional distress, trauma mentions, spellwork, body horror (mild), memory erasure, manipulation, fangs/claws, psychic pain, I think that’s all

Featuring Enhypen’s Jay, Sunghoon, Jake, & Heeseung

Alright, everyone, here we go, the next part of this series!! You’re excited, I’m excited, let’s go, and it’s time for our beloved Fuma! I hope you all enjoy this one!

Taglist: @voucearse, @nadiakittyy, @evemeri, @petunia05, @yumnyangiexx, @somswib, @mrcarrots, @seodami, @reiofsuns2001, @charlie-sk, @lacedwithmsg, @cherry012309, let me know if you want to added to the taglist!

Networks: @k-records

Yudai/Kei 2. Yuma 3. EJ EJ extra 4. Jo 5. Nicholas 6. Special fic 8. Harua 9. Maki 10. Taki

Aya = Kei’s mate Miyu = Yuma’s mate Sora = EJ’s mate Sana = Jo’s mate Rocky = Nicholas’ mate

Miyu, Maki, Lila, and Jay were locking up Koyomi for the night. It was late, later than usual. The kind of late that settled into bone and muscle after hours of nonstop movement. The big after-work party had taken up almost the entire restaurant, loud and rowdy but generous, and though it had left all of them exhausted, the register had never looked happier.

Lila stepped out first, tugging her scarf tighter around her neck as a gust of cold air swept down the street. “See you guys tomorrow,” she called, giving a tired wave before heading off toward her apartment. Her boots clicked against the pavement, the sound fading as she turned the corner. That left Miyu, Maki, and Jay outside the restaurant, breaths puffing into the winter air. Snow hadn’t started falling yet, but the sky carried its promise, heavy, quiet, waiting. Maki hugged his arms around himself, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “Yuma better hurry. I can’t feel my hands.” “He’s on his way,” Miyu said, checking her phone. She leaned into Maki’s side, using his warmth while Jay locked the last door. “He said traffic’s slow.”

Jay pocketed the keys and stepped back from the entrance. The OPEN sign, now dark, reflected faintly across the windows behind him. “Long night,” he murmured. Miyu groaned in agreement. Maki just exhaled sharply, watching his breath cloud in front of him like smoke. The soft hum of an engine announced Yuma’s arrival. His car rolled to a stop at the curb, headlights washing the sidewalk in pale gold. Maki perked up immediately. “Finally.” Yuma lowered the window, grinning widely. “Your ride has arrived, my lovely people.” Miyu slipped into the front seat after giving Jay a quick wave. “Goodnight! Don’t stay out too long, it’s freezing.” “Get home safe,” Jay said with a small smile. Maki hurried into the backseat, already complaining about the cold as Yuma pulled away from the curb.

And just like that, Jay was alone again. He stayed outside Koyomi for a few minutes, hands shoved into his coat pockets as he tilted his head back to look at the sky. The clouds hung low and heavy, dimly lit by the street lamps. Everything was still. Quiet. Too quiet, maybe. That was when he heard it. A soft rustle in the bushes near the alley.

Jay straightened immediately. At first, he assumed it had to be one of the wolves coming to say hi or check in, Nicholas, maybe, or even Fuma doing a late-night patrol. But the scent wasn’t one he recognized. Not at first. Not until the figure stepped out from between the shadows, the dim light catching the edge of their silhouette, slightly hunched, breathing unevenly, the scent brushing against Jay’s senses like a warning.

~~~

Meanwhile, at the pack village, Fuma and Kei were sparring in the training yard. Snow hadn’t started falling yet, but the bite in the air sharpened every movement, every breath, every shift of muscle. Their boots scuffed over the frosted dirt, each step measured, each strike deliberate. Harua, Jo, Aya, and Sana watched from the edge of the yard, bundled in jackets and scarves as they cheered for both with equal enthusiasm.

Fuma was, as always, the powerhouse, solid, grounded, strong enough to take Kei off his feet if he timed it right. Kei, on the other hand, fought like the wind itself: faster, smoother, and annoyingly light on his feet. Their sparring matches almost always ended in a perfect tie.

But tonight… things looked different. Kei lunged forward, swift and graceful, only for Fuma to pivot, catch his arm, and twist with expertly controlled force. The younger wolves watching let out a chorus of “ooooh,” Sana clutching Jo’s sleeve as Kei tried to regain his footing. “You’ve almost got him!” Harua shouted. “Kei! Use your brain, not just your legs!” Aya yelled back, laughing. Kei grinned, only to be promptly swept off balance when Fuma dropped low and hooked his ankle, taking him to the ground with a thump that kicked up cold dust.

Fuma stepped back, hands on his hips, chest rising with controlled breaths. “I believe that’s a win.” Kei groaned into the dirt. “I slipped,” he muttered weakly. “You didn’t slip,” Jo called. “You got yeeted.” Aya snorted. “Yeeted by Fuma, honestly, could be worse.” Kei rolled onto his back, glaring at the sky. “I hate all of you.” But his smile broke through anyway. As Fuma helped Kei up, the back door to the main house swung open. EJ and Sora stepped out, both wrapped in warm coats. Sora’s cheeks were pink from the cold, her breath fogging in the air.

“Who won this time?” EJ called as they approached. Before Kei could even open his mouth, Fuma lifted an arm in a dramatic display of victory. “Me. Obviously.” Kei smacked his hand away. “Barely.” “But still,” Fuma added with a smug grin. Sora laughed softly. “Congratulations, Fuma.” “Mm, thank you, thank you,” he said with a mock bow, earning an eye roll from Kei and a round of applause from the others. “But,” EJ added, glancing toward the sky, “everyone should head inside. It’s getting colder, and the weather alert said heavy snowfall tonight. We don’t want anyone freezing out here.”

Jo tugged Sana closer. “Come on, let’s warm up before your nose turns into an icicle.” Aya looped her arm through Kei’s. “I want hot chocolate. I deserve it after watching you two almost die for fun.” “It wasn’t,” Kei started. “It absolutely was,” Harua cut in. As the group began heading toward the house, Fuma grabbed Kei’s arm. “We should bring in more firewood. Just in case.” Kei nodded. “Yeah. Don’t want to run out in the middle of the night. Oh, are Miyu and Maki on their way home yet?” EJ paused at the door. “Good idea. And yes, Miyu and Maki should be on their way home. Yuma left about fifteen minutes ago to pick them up.”

“Good,” Fuma said, already rolling up his sleeves. “They’ll be freezing when they get in.” “They always are,” Sora chuckled. Kei grinned. “Alright, come on. Before Harua burns the house down trying to make cocoa.” Harua shouted from inside, “I HEARD THAT!” Fuma just shook his head with a laugh, grabbing the axe and heading toward the woodpile with Kei at his side as the temperature continued to drop… and the first flakes of snow began to fall.

Inside the house, the living room was a burst of noise and light, the kind that chased away the cold creeping in from outside. Taki, Nicholas, and Rocky were crowded around the TV, controllers in hand, faces illuminated by the flashing colors of the game. Taki was hunched forward in fierce concentration, Nicholas leaned back with his usual cool confidence, and Rocky, well, Rocky was losing. Badly.

Jo and Sana plopped down onto the couch behind them, Sana immediately throwing her hands up. “Let’s goooo, Rocky! You’ve got this!” Rocky, in fact, did not have this. Nicholas snorted when her character ran straight off the virtual cliff for the fifth time. “You’re supposed to jump, jump, Rocky, not offer yourself to the void.” Rocky narrowed her eyes, muttering something under her breath. Nicholas opened his mouth to tease again, only for a soft violet shimmer to spark from Rocky’s fingertips. A second later, the wolf’s voice cut out mid-sentence.

His mouth moved. No sound came out. Taki burst out laughing. “OH MY GOD, she muted you!” “Rocky,” Jo said through a grin, “you did NOT just spell him.” Rocky shrugged innocently, twirling her controller. “He was annoying me and being mean.” Nicholas turned his controller sideways, glaring at her in utter betrayal as Sana snorted into her sleeve. “Don’t look at me like that,” Rocky added. “You’ve survived worse.” Jo patted Nicholas’s shoulder sympathetically. “You kind of deserve it.”

From the kitchen doorway, Harua wandered in, cupping a steaming mug of hot cocoa. Aya followed a moment later, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she stayed by the doorway, waiting for Kei and Fuma to come in from the cold. Harua flopped onto the armchair beside the couch. “Who’s winning?” Without breaking concentration, Taki raised his hand triumphantly. “ME. Obviously.” Jo groaned as Sana cheered. “Of course it’s you. No one should be that good at this game.”

EJ and Sora entered just as the final match finished, the screen announcing Taki’s victory with an obnoxiously loud fanfare. Taki jumped to his feet, fists in the air. “YES! Bow down to your champion!” Rocky rolled her eyes but smiled, flicking her fingers subtly to undo the spell. Nicholas inhaled sharply as sound returned to him, immediately pointing at Rocky. “NEVER do that again.” “I give it five minutes,” Taki muttered.

EJ leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head with a laugh. “You know… sometimes I wish I could use magic. That spell would’ve worked wonders on this pack. Especially when you all were younger.” Nicholas scoffed. “We weren’t that bad.” Sora snorted. “Didn’t I hear a story about how you tried to set the house on fire because Maki wouldn’t let you win at hide-and-seek?” Taki raised his hand. “That was actually me.” EJ sighed. “It was all of you.” Laughter filled the room again, warm and bright, while the snow outside began to fall heavier and heavier against the windows.

Fuma and Kei stepped inside, each carrying a heavy stack of freshly cut firewood in their arms. A gust of icy wind followed them in, scattering snowflakes across the floor. Both wolves shook their heads like big dogs, sending flakes flying everywhere. “Close the door, close the door!” Harua yelped from the couch, curling deeper into his blanket. Kei kicked the door shut with his heel, just as Yuma’s car rolled to a stop outside. Seconds later, the front door opened again, this time revealing Yuma, Miyu, and Maki, all three looking like they had walked through a blizzard.

Snow clung to their hair and coats, and Miyu was practically wrapped around Yuma’s arm, her teeth chattering. Yuma immediately pulled her closer, rubbing her arms up and down to warm her. Maki hurried in behind them, slamming the door closed as another burst of wind rattled the windows. “Holy crap,” Maki shivered. “It’s like the North Pole out there.” Fuma raised an eyebrow. “And it’s just getting started.” EJ was already helping carry the firewood the rest of the way, stacking the pieces neatly beside the hearth. He tossed a few extra logs into the fire, the flames crackling louder as warmth began spilling across the room.

“Come on, sit down,” Sora said, ushering the newcomers toward the living room. “You’re freezing.” Taki peered over the back of the couch. “How was work? Looked like you guys had a full house tonight.” Miyu let out a breathy laugh as she dropped onto the couch beside him, curling into Yuma’s side. “Busy. Very busy.” Maki nodded, flopping onto the rug. “We had this huge group booking, almost the entire restaurant.” “And we tried out a new stew tonight,” Miyu added, her voice brightening. “Maki and I made it together.” “It was so good,” Maki said proudly. “The customers kept ordering more.” Jo grinned. “So you’re telling me we get to try some tomorrow?” Maki nodded. “If Jay doesn’t eat it all first.” Sana giggled. “I’m excited already.”

Around them, the storm raged harder, howling winds pressing against the windows, whirling snow blurring the world outside. The lights flickered once, but the fire roared steadily, pushing back the cold. Inside the house, warmth blossomed everywhere, across flushed cheeks, blankets shared between wolves and mates, and laughter weaving through every breath. They were safe. Together. Happy. Unaware of the footsteps moving closer through the storm.

~~~ Meanwhile with Jay ~~~

The person who stepped out of the bushes collapsed almost instantly, their legs giving out before Jay could even get a proper look at their face. He lunged forward, catching them just before they hit the ground. Their skin was ice-cold, dangerously so, and their breathing shallow. “Hey, hey, stay with me,” Jay muttered, lifting them carefully into his arms. No response. The wind whipped harder, snow kicking up around him. He didn’t waste another second. With the storm growing worse by the minute, Jay carried the unconscious figure all the way back to his apartment, pushing the door open with his shoulder.

Inside, warmth washed over them, but the person in his arms didn’t stir. Jay laid them down gently on his couch, brushing the snow from their hair and clothes. Their skin was freezing. This wasn’t good, not for a human. Jay grabbed the blanket from the side chair, wrapping it around them before pulling out his phone. He hesitated. This wasn’t something he wanted to tell them over the phone… but they needed to know.

He pressed call. The line rang… and rang… and rang. Until finally, Miyu picked up. “Jay? Hey, sorry, it’s loud, the pack is,” She paused, voice shifting, instinct sharpening. “Jay? What’s wrong?” In the background, Jay could hear chaos, Taki yelling at Nicholas, Sana laughing, Maki shouting something about cheating. The usual warm, living noise of the pack. Jay swallowed. “I… need to talk to everyone.” Miyu’s breath hitched. “What happened?” Yuma must’ve heard her tone, because Jay heard his voice next, closer. “Miyu? Baby, what is it?” Miyu put the call on speaker, raising her voice to cut through the living room noise. “Everyone, quiet a second. Jay needs to talk to us.”

The room fell silent. Jay exhaled shakily. “After Yuma picked you and Maki up,” he began slowly, “someone came out of the bushes near Koyomi.” A murmur rippled through the pack. Jay continued, voice tightening, “An old acquaintance. The mate of one of the vampires from my old coven.” EJ’s tone cut through the speaker, sharp. “Which one?” “I don’t know why she’s here,” Jay admitted. “Or why she’s alone. But I brought her to my apartment, she collapsed. She’s unconscious.” The pack exchanged muted reactions, fear, confusion, instinct. Jay’s next words were even heavier. “But… if she’s here, then her mate won’t be far. He’ll come for her.” A beat of silence followed. “This is a warning,” Jay said quietly. “Prepare yourselves. He’ll surely join her soon.”

Sora was the first to speak again, repeating EJ’s earlier question with more force. “Jay… who was it?” A long, heavy pause followed. Jay’s voice came back strained. “It was… Heeseung’s mate.” Shock rippled through the room. Sora inhaled sharply, her hand flying to her chest. Miyu froze mid-step. The name alone changed the energy in the living room. Fuma’s orange-gold eyes narrowed. Kei and Harua exchanged confused looks. “Who?” Jo asked quietly. Sora swallowed, stepping forward as all eyes turned to her. “You guys… don’t understand. Heeseung isn’t just some vampire.”

Yuma’s arm tightened protectively around Miyu. EJ’s red eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, his instincts rising fast. Sora continued, voice low and serious, “Heeseung is one of the highest-ranking vampires in Jay’s old coven. He’s terrifyingly strong. Nobody knows what his gift is — not even Jay. But you can feel it. He walks into a room and everything gets… colder. He’s quiet, but he doesn’t need to threaten anyone. His presence is enough.”

The younger wolves exchanged uneasy glances. “And the worst part?” Sora added softly. “He’s hyper-protective of his mate. Anyone even looking at her wrong was enough to set him off. If Jay found her alone and hurt…” Her voice trailed off, but everyone understood what she didn’t say. Jay sighed through the speaker. “Yeah. That’s why I wanted to warn you. Whatever happened, his mate is in bad shape. He’ll come for her.” Yuma felt Miyu tense, pulling her against him. EJ placed a steadying hand on Sora’s back, his red eyes glowing brighter with each passing second. After a moment, Jay added, “Just… be ready.” And then the line went dead.

A tense silence settled over the room. Miyu exhaled shakily. “If Heeseung is coming… then Sunghoon won’t be far behind. They’re always together.” A deep, rumbling growl escaped EJ’s chest, a sound that vibrated through the floor. His eyes burned a sharp, dangerous red. “I am not dealing with Sunghoon again.” No one dared disagree. And outside, the storm only grew stronger, carrying with it the threat of two vampires, and the unknown fate of a human girl who had somehow survived long enough for Jay to save her.

The next morning, Jay woke earlier than usual, the weight of last night still sitting heavily in his chest. His apartment was quiet, the only sound was the slow hum of the heater fighting against the winter cold. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at the couch. She was still there. Still unconscious. But warmer. He let out a slow breath of relief. Her color had returned slightly, nothing dramatic, but enough to show that she wasn’t freezing anymore. He pulled the blanket up a little higher around her shoulders before heading to the kitchenette.

Snow was piled almost a meter high outside his window, glittering in the morning sun. It looked peaceful… the kind of peace that felt like a lie. Jay cooked quietly, keeping an ear turned toward the couch. By the time the smell of breakfast filled the apartment, he heard a soft sound. A groan. Shifting fabric. A confused inhale. Jay turned. She was stirring, eyes blinking open slowly, unfocused at first. Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face as she sat up slightly, clutching the blanket.

“…Where…?” Her voice was thin, barely above a whisper. Then, suddenly, panic. “Heeseung? Heeseung?” Jay approached quickly but gently. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Her eyes snapped to him. Recognition flashed. “Jay?” she breathed. “Yeah,” he said, offering a small nod. “It’s me. I found you outside my restaurant last night. You collapsed.” She looked down, fingers tightening in the blanket. She seemed frail, physically and emotionally, like a person who had been stretched too thin for too long.

Jay crouched beside the couch. “Why are you here? What happened?” She blinked slowly, eyes distant. “I… don’t know. A few days ago, I had this dream. It felt real. I heard someone’s voice. It told me to come here.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “And then… I don’t remember anything. I woke up here, in your apartment.” Jay swallowed. A dream wasn’t enough to travel through a blizzard alone. Not safely, not sanely. “Does Heeseung know you’re here?” he asked carefully. Her reaction was immediate, eyes widening, shoulders tensing, breath stuttering. “No,” she whispered. “Or… I don’t think so. He, he wouldn’t have let me go.” She swallowed hard, gaze dropping. “So… he probably doesn’t know.”

Something in her voice made Jay pause. Fear. Weariness. And something heartbreakingly dull. It wasn’t how a mate should sound when speaking about the person who loved them. Jay studied her closely. She looked… empty. Like someone who had forgotten what safety felt like. His eyes drifted to her neck, and froze. Two fresh fang marks, bruised around the edges, visible even above the collar of the shirt he had wrapped her in.

Heeseung had fed from her. Recently. Which wasn’t uncommon for vampires with human mates. But the marks looked deep. Too deep. Jay’s jaw tightened. Whatever had happened… it wasn’t right. And whatever had driven her here, dream or not, wasn’t coincidence. Before Jay could ask more, she flinched at a distant sound of wind against the window. Jay softened his voice. “You’re safe here. I promise.” She didn’t look convinced. And somewhere deep in Jay’s chest, a knot of dread twisted tighter.

Jay handed her a warm plate of food, gentle but insistent. “Eat. You’ll feel better.” She hesitated for a moment, like she wasn’t used to being offered anything without strings, but finally took a small bite. Jay watched her shoulders loosen just a little. She was still pale, still shaken, but warmth and food were at least pulling her back from the edge.

He needed answers. And he needed backup. So while she focused on eating, Jay grabbed his coat and stepped out onto the small balcony, closing the sliding door behind him to block out the cold. His breath fogged instantly in the frozen air. He didn’t call Miyu this time. He dialed EJ directly. It rang twice before the alpha picked up, voice thick with sleep.

“…Jay? What’s wrong?” Jay lowered his voice. “Sorry to wake you, Euijoo. I… found something out.” The sleep vanished from EJ’s tone almost instantly. “Go on.” Jay swallowed, glancing back through the glass at the girl on his couch. “I don’t think Heeseung and his mate’s bond is… stable. She shouldn’t have been able to leave him. Not like this. Not on her own.” EJ was silent, listening. “And she’s scared of him,” Jay added quietly. “Really scared. Something’s wrong. I don’t know what happened, but, whatever it is, it drove her here.”

That alone said more than anything else could. Jay continued, “I want to ask… will the pack protect her, while I try to figure this out? I know it’ll bring trouble. I know Heeseung will come. But I can’t just send her back.” EJ let out a slow breath on the other end of the line. Jay could almost picture him rubbing a hand over his face, weighing the danger against the instinct to protect.

Finally, EJ spoke, firm, resolute, alpha. “Jay… this is why we exist. To protect humans from vampires. If she needs us, she stays with us. Bring her to the village as soon as you can.” Relief washed through Jay, loosening something in his chest. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Really.” “Be careful getting here,” EJ added. “The storm’s been worse in the forest. And Jay… don’t let her out of your sight.” “I won’t.” They hung up. Jay stepped back inside, the warmth of his apartment wrapping around him again. She looked up from the couch, half-finished plate in her hands, uncertainty still clouding her expression. Jay closed the door behind him.

Jay sat down beside her, keeping his voice soft, steady, something safe she could hold onto. “There’s a pack of wolves I trust,” he began. “Good people. Their mates, too. You can stay with them for as long as you want. They’ll protect you.” She froze slightly, eyes flicking toward him, uncertainty clouding the fragile calm she’d gained. Jay added gently, “Sora is there.” Her breath hitched. “And she’s the alpha’s mate now.” At that, something shifted in her expression, not relief exactly, but a flicker of comfort. A familiar name. A familiar face. Someone she hadn’t been allowed to see in far, far too long. “…Sora?” she whispered. Jay nodded. That was all it took. She agreed.

Jay helped her put on one of his coats, bundled her in a scarf, and walked her carefully to the car. The roads were thick with snow, the forest even worse, but he drove slowly, carefully, the tires crunching through the icy layers as they made their way up to the pack village. When they finally arrived, two figures stood waiting outside, their breath clouding the air. EJ. And Sora. The moment Jay stepped out of the car and opened the passenger door, Sora spotted the girl.

“(Y/n)!” she called, voice cracking with emotion as she ran forward. The girl, (Y/n), stood shyly behind the car door, eyes downcast. “H…hi,” she murmured, barely audible. Sora’s excited expression softened instantly. She glanced at Jay, concern tightening her brow, then at EJ, who had noticed as well. The last time Sora had seen (Y/n), she had been soft, gentle, bright, quiet, but warm. Now she looked tired. Worn. Fragile. And it hurt Sora to see.

EJ stepped forward, tone calm but warm. “Sora, why don’t you take her to the pond? The snow will make it even prettier; it’ll be beautiful. Peaceful.” Sora blinked, then smiled softly at the idea. “Yeah… that’s perfect.” She ran inside, returning with thick blankets and an extra coat for (Y/n), whom she wrapped up carefully before leading her toward the snowy path. As the two disappeared through the trees, EJ turned back to Jay. The air grew heavier. They had things to discuss, serious things. And whatever answers Jay had brought… EJ knew they mattered more than any of them yet understood.

Jay and EJ stepped inside, shaking the snow from their coats. The house was quieter than usual; most of the pack was out on patrol, training, or working in their usual routines. Only the hum of the heater and the faint crackling of the fireplace filled the space. EJ guided Jay toward the dining table. “Tell me everything,” he said, voice low but steady. Jay nodded, pulling out a chair. “I will.” But first, he glanced toward the window, watching the falling snow swallow the path that Sora and (Y/n) had taken. EJ followed his gaze, his red eyes reflecting the storm outside.

Meanwhile, down the snowy path, Sora led (Y/n) to the pond. Even in the dead of winter, even in this kind of cold, the pond was steaming, warm enough to melt snow around its edges. A supernatural phenomenon rooted deep in the wolves’ territory. Beautiful. Calming. Safe. (Y/n) stopped in her tracks as the mist curled up from the shimmering surface. “It’s… warm?” she whispered, eyes widening. Sora smiled softly. “Always. We don’t really know why. It’s sort of… our little sanctuary, maybe we could go take a swim someday.”

(Y/n) stepped closer, letting the gentle heat brush her skin. For a moment, a small flicker of wonder broke through her exhaustion. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. Sora spread the blankets onto the dry patch of ground, patting the spot beside her. (Y/n) sat. The silence between them was gentle, peaceful. The falling snow muffled the world around them, leaving only the soft hiss of steam rising from the pond. After a few minutes, Sora turned her head, watching (Y/n)’s distant expression. “What happened?” Sora asked quietly. “How did you end up here?” (Y/n)’s breath caught.

She trusted Sora more than Jay, she always had. Sora had been the only warmth she’d known in the coven, the only one who spoke to her like she was human. So (Y/n) looked at her hands, then at the steaming pond, then finally into Sora’s eyes. And for the first time since she arrived… she let her guard drop. “Sora… the truth is…” She inhaled shakily. (Y/n) paused, her eyes drifting around the snowy clearing. For a moment, Sora watched her shoulders tense, her breath hitching like she truly believed someone was lurking behind the trees. But there was no one. Just Sora. Only then did (Y/n) continue.

“…Lately,” she whispered, fingers curling tightly in the blanket, “for maybe two months now… I’ve been having these dreams.” Sora stayed still, giving her space, letting her talk at her own pace. “I can never remember what they’re about,” (Y/n) said softly. “Except for… a voice.” Her eyes lifted toward the mist rising off the pond, as if she could almost hear it now. “It’s warm. Deep. Gentle. It calls my name. Tells me to come closer.” She swallowed hard. “And I don’t know who it belongs to. But… I know it’s not Heeseung.” Sora felt her heart skip. “It’s not Heeseung?” (Y/n) shook her head. “No. I would recognize his voice anywhere. This one… It’s different. And since the dreams started, I’ve been feeling… strange around him.”

Her hands were trembling now. “It’s like I’m in a daze when he’s near. Foggy. Wrong. I used to like him, I think. Or I thought I did. But now…” Her breaths grew uneven. “I’m not even sure I ever did, Sora. It feels like all of it was a dream I was told to believe.” Sora stared at her, completely thrown. “What do you mean? You accepted the mate bond, right?” she asked gently. “You and Heeseung were…mates.” (Y/n) looked up, and for the first time, Sora saw real fear in her eyes. “That’s the thing,” she whispered shakily. “I don’t know if I ever chose it. And I… I don’t know if I was ever truly his to begin with.”

Sora froze. Because mate bonds don’t fade. Mate bonds don’t break. Mate bonds don’t lose feeling. Unless something was wrong. Terribly, impossibly wrong. And suddenly, Sora wasn’t sure if (Y/n) had ever truly been Heeseung’s mate at all.

A sharp twig snapped somewhere in the trees. Sora immediately stood, stepping in front of (Y/n) without hesitation. Her eyes sharpened, posture shifting into something ready to fight. But then a familiar voice called out. “It’s just me! Fuma, don’t worry.” Sora exhaled harshly, shoulders relaxing. “You scared me.” Fuma stepped into view, snow dusting his coat. He’d been patrolling when he spotted the two girls by the pond; EJ’s mindlink had alerted the entire pack about a new human visitor.

At first, he didn’t smell anything unusual. Her scent was faint. Gentle. Hidden under layers of cold and exhaustion. But the moment he reached the edge of the pond, everything inside him exploded. Mate. The word slammed into his skull, a visceral roar shaking him to the core. His wolf surged forward violently, forcing its way to the surface. Fuma staggered. His fangs pushed out. His claws grew. His eyes flared, molten golden, flickering with threads of red, that near-alpha power buzzing like electricity under his skin.

And there she was. A timid girl hiding behind Sora. His mate. But before he could even process that, something else struck him, a cold, slicing rage. Those marks on her neck. Two deep, bruised punctures. Vampire bite marks. Recent. Angry. His snarl tore out uncontrollably. For one terrifying heartbeat, he thought, Sora did this. You let a vampire feed on her… But logic slammed back into him. There was no fresh blood. The scent was at least a day old. Sora had nothing to do with it. He forced himself to stay put, claws half-extended from the strain.

“Fuma? What’s going on?” Sora asked, voice tight with concern. She had never seen him like this. The steady one. The calm one. The wolf who never lost control. (Y/n) clung to her, trembling. Her eyes darted across the snowy clearing, trying to find him, but missing every time. “What’s going on? W-what’s happening?” she whispered. Fuma froze. She wasn’t looking at him. Not once. His wolf stumbled in confusion. Was his mate… blind? She didn’t track his movements. She didn’t react to his eyes, or fangs, or posture, only the sounds he made.

He took a slow step forward. Sora squeezed (Y/n)’s arm gently. “It’s okay, (Y/n). He’s a friend. He’s just very protective.” (Y/n) swallowed hard. “I… is he a vampire?” “No,” Sora said quickly. “He’s a werewolf. His name is Fuma.” (Y/n) nodded, trusting Sora’s reassurance, but kept herself pressed close to the one vampire she knew. Fuma inhaled shakily, eyes softening despite the tension in his muscles. Something was wrong. Her scent was muted. Her fear too constant. Her confusion too deep. And the connection, the mate bond, pulled at him so fiercely it almost hurt. His wolf whispered, desperate and worried: Mate is hurt. Mate is scared. Protect her.

Fuma stepped forward slowly, each movement controlled, careful. He stopped just a few steps away, close enough to see her properly, far enough not to overwhelm her. Sora watched him closely. When she saw the tension melt from his shoulders, the golden-red flicker in his eyes settling to their usual warm orange-gold, she relaxed and nodded. He was himself again. “Is this (Y/n) then?”

His voice had returned to its usual velvety gentleness, deep, steady, the kind of tone that wrapped around the ears like a warm blanket. Sora nodded. “Yes. This is (Y/n). She’s the mate of one of the vampires from the coven Jay and I used to belong to.” The word mate hit Fuma like a blade. His heart stuttered. Then it broke. She already had a mate. Someone else. A vampire. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit. The bond he felt, the pull, the instinct, the soul-deep recognition, none of that could be wrong. Mate bonds were absolute. Unmistakable. Unbreakable. Fate didn’t make mistakes.

So why…? “Oh,” was all he managed. Just one small, hollow sound. He had dozens of questions spinning violently in his head. What do you mean she has a mate? How? Why does she smell like mine? Why is my wolf reaching for her? Why does looking at her hurt and feel right all at once? but none of them escaped his lips. (Y/n) perked up slightly at the sound of his voice. It was subtle, barely a shift, but she tilted her head, as if trying to place him. The tone stirred something faint, like a memory or a dream she couldn’t quite grab.

But she didn’t turn toward him. Not fully. “Let’s go back to the house, yeah?” Sora said gently, sensing the tension building again. “It might help to have more people around.” Fuma took a small step forward to help. (Y/n)’s eyes flickered toward him…but didn’t land. Didn’t focus. Didn’t see him. They drifted past him, unfocused, trapped behind something he couldn’t decipher. Her pupils didn’t tighten at movement. Her gaze didn’t track sound accurately. Her expression was distant, foggy.

Her eyes looked wrong. Dazed. Glossy. Clouded over, like a thin veil, separated her from the world. A chill crawled up Fuma’s spine. Was this the mark of a witch’s curse? A stolen memory? A bond tampered with? Or worse… Was it the effect of the vampire who claimed to be her mate? His hands curled into fists, claws threatening to break skin. Because whatever had been done to her… Whatever had clouded her mind, blinded her, muted her scent, and broken her spirit. His wolf knew one thing with absolute certainty: She didn’t belong to that vampire.

Back at the house, the warmth hit them immediately, melting the cold from their clothes and skin. Sora gently guided (Y/n) inside, keeping her steps steady. “Come on, sit by the fire. It’ll help,” she said softly. Sana and Jo were curled up on the floor watching a movie. They both turned when they heard footsteps. “Oh! Hi,” Sana chirped. Jo gave a small smile. “Hey. Nice to meet you.” (Y/n) offered a quiet, timid, “Hi,” before folding herself down onto a cushion near the fire. Her hands found the edge of the blanket Sora had given her, gripping it like an anchor.

Fuma lingered in the doorway, watching. (Y/n)’s eyes tracked Sana’s movement. Then Jo’s. Then Sora’s. They weren’t perfect, still dazed, but she could see them. Yet when his foot shifted, when the floor creaked beneath him… Nothing. Her eyes didn’t flick toward him. Didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t react at all. As if he wasn’t there. His wolf snarled inside him, furious and confused. Not at her, at whatever had been done to her. Whatever had taken her sight from him. He hated being angry. It unsettled him. Made his skin itch. His wolf pacing, restless, clawing at his ribs.

He took a step forward, Sora immediately grabbed his arm. She didn’t ask. She didn’t warn him. She just used her vampire strength and dragged him with her, despite the fact that he was larger and usually immovable as stone. He resisted, not wanting to leave the living room, not wanting to be away from the girl who made his wolf ache, but Sora wasn’t giving him a choice. “Come with me,” she hissed under her breath.

She pulled him toward the dining table where EJ and Jay sat, deep in conversation. Papers and maps were spread out, notes about Heeseung, about the coven, about any possible sign of movement during the storm. EJ looked up immediately when he heard Sora’s footsteps. One glance at her face and he straightened, red eyes sharpening with concern. Sora was serious. Fuma looked tense. Something had clearly happened. EJ’s gaze flicked between them. “Alright,” he said calmly but firmly. “What’s going on?” And by the way, Sora didn’t let go of Fuma’s arm, practically anchoring him in place. EJ knew exactly one thing: Whatever was wrong… Fuma was involved.

Sora released Fuma’s arm only when they reached the table, but she didn’t move far. She stood close, arms folded, eyes fixed on him with an expression that said well? Fuma hesitated. His throat felt tight. His wolf paced restlessly, urging him on, demanding he claim what was his, but he had no idea what speaking the truth would cause. What it would change. What it would break. Sora nudged him gently. “Tell them.” He inhaled slowly, steadying himself, then finally looked at EJ. “(Y/n)… is my mate.” Silence. EJ’s brows lowered slightly, his red eyes narrowing as he tried to process the impossible. Jay sat forward, lips parting in visible surprise.

“That’s…” Jay began carefully, “complicated.” Fuma bristled. “It’s the truth.” “I’m not saying it isn’t,” Jay reassured quickly. “There are… stories. Old ones. About cases where a mate bond forms on one side, but not the other.” He scratched his temple, searching his memory. “Where person A recognizes person B as their mate, but person B doesn’t feel the bond back.” Fuma stiffened. “That happens?” “Rarely,” Jay said. “Almost never with wolves. Your species usually has the strongest mate-bond instincts.” His eyes flicked toward the living room, where (Y/n) sat quietly by the fire. “But for vampires… It’s more common. Still rare. But not unheard of.”

EJ leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin. “But she identified Heeseung as her mate.” Jay nodded grimly. “Which is why I said… complicated.” Sora shook her head sharply. “No. I don’t think Heeseung is her mate at all.” Both EJ and Fuma looked at her instantly. Sora continued, voice low, eyes intense. “She told me she’s been having dreams for two months. A voice calling her. Warm. Deep. Familiar in a way she can’t explain.” She crossed her arms. “She says she’s been feeling… wrong around Heeseung. Like her feelings aren’t hers. Like she was in a fog.” Jay frowned. EJ glanced toward the blankets by the fire. Fuma’s wolf growled quietly inside him, protective, furious, validated.

EJ sucked in a breath. “That’s not natural.” “No,” Sora agreed. “It’s not.” Jay tapped a finger against the table, thinking. “There’s only one explanation if her senses are being selectively altered,” “A spell,” Sora finished quietly. “Or something worse.” The three of them shared a look. And they all knew the same witch who might understand what was happening. “When Rocky and Nicholas get home,” Sora said firmly, “we need Rocky to take a look. If this is magic… she’ll know.”

Fuma’s jaw tightened. Because it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was fear. Fear of what had been done to his mate. Fear of what Heeseung had pulled her into. Fear of what the fog in her eyes meant. And underneath all of it, something else: Hope. Fragile, trembling hope… that maybe she was his after all.

Sora gave EJ a quick kiss, soft, grounding, before heading back toward the living room. She slipped down beside (Y/n), offering warmth and company without overwhelming her. (Y/n) leaned slightly into her presence, comforted by the only familiar voice she had left. Jo, still lounging near the fire, had overheard enough of the earlier conversation to understand something serious was unfolding. But he didn’t say a word. If (Y/n) wasn’t aware of the full truth yet, there was a reason for it. And protecting her meant protecting what she didn’t know, at least for now.

Fuma remained by the doorway for a bit longer, silently watching. His eyes traced the faint fog in (Y/n)’s gaze… but he said nothing. Not yet. His wolf paced uneasily, confused and angry, but he forced himself to breathe, to wait, to think.

About an hour later, the front door swung open. Nicholas, Rocky, Miyu, and Yuma tumbled inside, all laughing loudly about a joke Nicholas had made. Snow clung to their coats, their cheeks flushed from the cold, and their energy filled the house instantly.

But the mood shifted the second EJ stood up. “Nicholas. Rocky,” he called, his tone leaving no room for delay. Nicholas’ laughter faded, replaced with concern as he squeezed Rocky’s hand. She looked between the alpha and Jay, then at the unfamiliar human girl by the fire. Something was wrong. EJ wasted no time. He quickly explained: the storm, Jay finding (Y/n) alone, the bite marks, her connection to Heeseung, the strange dreams, and the possibility that her bond and her mind had been tampered with.

Rocky’s face paled slightly. She understood right away why she had been called. “You want me to look into her,” she whispered, eyes flickering to (Y/n). Jay nodded. “We don’t know what’s been done to her. We need answers.” Rocky hesitated, biting her lip. “My witch magic… might not be enough. This doesn’t feel like regular spellwork.” Her voice trembled. “If I try, I might need to use my oracle side, and,” She shook her head, fear flickering in her eyes. “That’s different. It’s deeper. Harder. And I haven’t done a full read in months.”

Nicholas immediately pulled her close, arms wrapping around her protectively. “I’ll be right beside you,” he murmured. “If you need help, we can even call Jake, even if I would prefer to keep him away.” Rocky grimaced at the idea.

“I’ve never done it without Jake, but I know it’s going to be more complicated to have him here, because of you,” Nicholas snorted. “Yeah, I’d rather avoid him, too.” “That’s not what I said, but whatever,” Rocky looked back toward (Y/n), who sat quietly beside Sora, unaware of the worried glances and hushed tones. “I’ll try,” Rocky said softly. “I’ll do my best.” She swallowed hard. “But I can’t promise I’ll succeed.”

Rocky explained what she needed: certain herbs for clarity, candles that could hold magical focus, and a few heavier ritual tools she only used for oracle readings. The house scattered into motion immediately. Just then, the front door opened again, letting in a gust of cold air and three more voices. Maki, Taki, and Kei returned from training, snow in their hair and adrenaline still buzzing through their steps.

Rocky waved them over. “I need help gathering supplies. We’re doing an Oracle read.” Taki blinked. “Oohhhh, one of the big ones.” “Unfortunately,” Rocky muttered. Everyone split up. Taki and Kei went to gather herbs from the greenhouse. Rocky stayed behind with Nicholas, sorting candles and bowls. Maki was paired with Fuma to fetch the heavier materials from the storage shed behind the house. They walked through the fresh snow, boots crunching softly. Fuma was silent, too silent, and Maki noticed immediately. He always did.

Fuma had raised him, taught him, guided him. Maki could read every shift in his tone, every change in his breathing, every flicker of hesitation. So after a few steps, he glanced at the older wolf. “…What’s going on with you?” he asked gently. Fuma didn’t answer right away. His breath fogged the air, eyes fixed forward. Only when they reached the shed door did he exhale shakily.

“She can’t see me.” Maki blinked. “(Y/n)?” Fuma nodded, jaw tightening. “At first, I thought she might be blind. And that wouldn’t bother me, not at all.” His voice softened. “But it’s not that. She sees everyone else. Sora. Sana. Jo. Jay.” Maki’s brows furrowed. “Just not you?” “Just me.” Fuma’s throat bobbed. “Her eyes… don’t react. It’s like there’s a fog there. A barrier. Something is keeping her from looking at me.” He swallowed hard. “And that’s worse. It feels like something’s preventing her from seeing what she’s meant to.”

Maki shifted closer, lowering his voice. “Fuma… maybe Rocky can remove the block. If that’s what it is.” Fuma huffed a bitter, tired laugh. “Maybe.” He lifted one of the heavy boxes from the shelf. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up. Not until we know what’s been done to her. Not until we know who she was meant for.” Maki put a hand on his arm. “You’re the calm one,” Maki said softly. “The steady one. If anyone deserves their mate to see them, to know them… it’s you.” Fuma looked away, eyes clouded. “I just hope fate agrees.”

Once everything was gathered, Sora took (Y/n) aside and explained what was going to happen, gently, carefully, making sure not to overwhelm her. (Y/n) listened quietly, nodding even though fear lingered in her expression. She wasn’t used to this many people. Wasn’t used to being somewhere safe. And she definitely wasn’t used to anyone going out of their way to help her.

When the room was ready, Rocky sat cross-legged on the floor, directly across from (Y/n). Nicholas hovered nearby, close enough to ground her, far enough not to interfere. The others had spread out into the adjacent room, seated on couches, steps, or the floor, silently waiting. Fuma stood near the doorway, arms folded tightly, trying to steady the storm in his chest.

Rocky exhaled slowly. This was an oracle reading, a real one. The kind she had avoided doing unless absolutely necessary. She remembered the last real oracle vision she’d had. And that vision… That body she saw on the ground… Was it connected to this girl? This situation? This vampire? Her stomach twisted. Was it Fuma she’d seen lying there? Or Nicholas? Or this Heeseung person Jay warned them about? She wasn’t sure. And that uncertainty terrified her.

She placed her palms on her knees, grounding herself. Nicholas squeezed her shoulder once, silently reassuring her that he was there. Across from her, (Y/n) waited patiently, hands resting in her lap. She was nervous. Anyone could see it. But she was trying. She wanted answers, too. “Are you ready?” Rocky asked softly. (Y/n) inhaled, then nodded. Rocky reached out her hands. (Y/n) hesitated only briefly before placing her own in Rocky’s palms, her fingers trembling.

Rocky shut her eyes. Her breathing slowed. Her magic shifted. Her oracle side stirred. A soft glow began to pulse beneath her eyelids, a bright, unnatural violet. The air around them tingled, pressure building as the energy thickened. Then it happened. A swirling fog appeared between them, violet with streaks of gold, twisting, spinning like smoke caught in a slow whirlpool. It crackled faintly, sending ripples of charged air through the room.

The other wolves felt it even from the next room. A few gasped quietly. Kei’s hair stood on end. EJ’s red eyes brightened instinctively. Fuma’s breath caught in his chest. Rocky’s grip tightened around (Y/n)’s hands. The fog thickened, swirling faster, wrapping the two of them in a strange, shimmering cocoon of violet-gold light. Rocky’s head suddenly snapped backward. A sharp gasp tore from her throat, her entire body arching like an electric shock had hit her spine.

“Rocky!” Nicholas surged forward, panic in his voice. He stopped himself just in time from touching her, pulling him back just enough. “Not yet. Give her space.” He whispered. But the fear in Nicholas’ eyes was unmistakable. Across from Rocky, (Y/n) mirrored the movement, her head tilting back, breath catching, fingers tightening around Rocky’s hands. Her lips parted in a silent gasp. Then both girls went still, their bodies locked in the vision.

~~~ In the vision ~~~

Rocky blinked into the darkness. It wasn’t empty, it was thick, suffocating, like walking through a maze carved out of shadows. Every direction looked the same. Every step felt unsure. She could barely see her hands in front of her face. Where am I? Then a voice drifted through the darkness. A low whisper. A warm one. Familiar in a way that made the hair on her arms stand up. “Hey… come closer. I’m here.” Rocky spun toward the sound, but the voice echoed strangely, like it was bouncing off unseen walls. Too far away. Too soft to grasp.

She moved anyway, feet hitting ground that felt unreal, like walking on mist. As she moved deeper, the darkness thinned just enough for something to form. A hazy image emerged, fog curling around the edges. Rocky stepped closer. It was (Y/n). Four or five years younger. Sitting in a café, fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee or tea. She was smiling, softly, shyly, at someone across the table.

A man. Rocky didn’t know him. But his eyes… They glazed red when he blinked. Vampire. Rocky’s stomach twisted. She kept walking. The voice returned, closer this time, but still distorted. “Come on… this way. You’re almost there.” She shivered. It tugged at her memory, like a name on the tip of her tongue, but she still couldn’t place it. More images flickered to life along the maze walls. (Y/n) and the vampire, the one she assumed was Heeseung, walking together. Sitting together. His hand on her wrist. His mouth on her neck. Feeding. Too much feeding.

Rocky’s breath tightened as she passed image after image of him drinking from (Y/n), her body limp in his arms, head tilted, eyes half-closed. This isn’t how mates behave. She knew that much. The maze twisted. Another image flickered into view, and Rocky stopped.

It was Sora. Not as she was now. Not a vampire. Human Sora. Sick. Pale. Hooked up to hospital machines. Rocky’s chest ached. She saw (Y/n) sitting beside her bed, holding her hand. Rocky exhaled shakily. EJ never had to see Sora like that. She was grateful for that. And grateful (Y/n) had been there when no one else was. Rocky took a step closer. The voice called out again. But this time… it was distorted. More so than the other times. Broken. Like someone had grabbed the familiar sound and twisted it through static. “Come… closer… hurry…” The urgency hit her like a shove to the chest.

Then a second voice echoed through the maze. Clearer. Sharper. Cold. Rocky froze. She didn’t recognize it. It slithered around her like smoke, curling in her ears. Don’t listen to the other one. Listen to me. Come to me instead… Her stomach dropped. Two voices. Two forces. And one of them was trying to confuse her. The fog thickened, choking, burning as it wrapped around her ankles. That meant she was closer. Closer to the truth. Closer to the center of whatever bound (Y/n)’s mind.

She pushed forward. Pain shot through her toes, sharp, electric. It crawled upward, slow but relentless. Her breath hitched. She’d never felt this type of pain inside a vision before. Whatever was inside (Y/n)’s head… Whatever was done to her… It was strong. Dangerously strong. Rocky gritted her teeth, forcing one foot in front of the other. The familiar voice, the warm one, the one she wanted to trust, called her deeper into the maze.

Another image flickered alive. Heeseung. Alone this time. But the times were different; this was far in the past, perhaps even so far back that not even Jay was a vampire yet. His eyes glowed red… but not just red. Black. A ring of deep, inky darkness bled through the iris. Rocky’s breath ran cold. Before him lay bodies. Dozens of them. Werewolves. Slaughtered. The air tasted of ash and blood. The vision pulsed with an old rage, something ancient and terrifying simmering in Heeseung’s stance.

Rocky’s heart plummeted. Heeseung wasn’t just powerful. He wasn’t just dangerous. He was something worse. A threat. Maybe something the pack wasn’t ready for. She pushed on, pain now chewing its way up her calves, to her knees, to her hips. Every step felt like dragging her body through fire. But then, the fog around her thinned. Just slightly. Just enough. The warm voice called again, clearer now, clearer than it had ever been. And suddenly… She placed it.

Fuma. But not grown Fuma. Not the calm, tall, steady wolf she knew. A young Fuma. A child. Maybe a teenager at most. Rocky’s heart thudded hard. Why was (Y/n) hearing young Fuma’s voice in her dreams? How deep did their bond go? How long had fate been trying to pull them together? This wasn’t a recent connection. This wasn’t new. This was old.

She sucked in a breath, then a scream ripped through the maze. (Y/n)’s scream. Agonized. Raw. Breaking. And Rocky felt it. She felt every shard of pain. She felt (Y/n)’s terror like a knife in her ribs. Rocky’s own scream tore from her throat. She doubled over inside the vision, pain searing through her chest, her lungs squeezing shut.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. The vision shattered. A violent force tore her backward, ripping her out of the fog, out of the maze, out of (Y/n)’s mind completely. She was thrown back into her body, and everything went white.

.~~~ End of the vision ~~~

Nicholas moved faster than anyone else. The moment Rocky’s body snapped backward, he lunged, catching her before she hit the floor. All around them, every candle flickered violently. Then blew out all at once. A rush of cold swept through the room. Rocky’s head lolled back against Nicholas’ arm, and his heart stopped when he saw it. Blood. A thin, dark line ran from her nose down to her upper lip. “Rocky? Rocky!” His voice cracked, raw with fear. “Baby, hey, stay with me!” But she was completely unconscious. Across from her, (Y/n) collapsed backward as well. Not as violently, but still limp, still out cold. Her breathing was shallow but steady.

Fuma didn’t even think. He dropped to his knees at her side, but hesitated before touching her. His hands hovered a few inches above her arms, unsure. Afraid to hurt her. Afraid to do something wrong. He settled for sitting beside her, close enough to guard her, far enough not to cross a line she wasn’t aware of. His wolf howled, desperate to hold her, to tuck her against his chest the way Nicholas held Rocky. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Nicholas was pale, eyes wide with panic.

“She’s never, she’s never bled before,” he whispered, voice shaking as he brushed Rocky’s hair from her face. “Pain, yes. Passing out, yes. But, blood? Never.” EJ and Jay were already kneeling beside them. Jay placed a hand over Rocky’s forehead, closing his eyes as healing magic rippled faintly under his palm. Sora mirrored him with (Y/n), her cool vampire touch easing the strain on the girl’s heartbeat.

Their powers weren’t strong enough to wake either of them; the damage was deeper than that, but they stopped the bleeding and eased the worst of the internal pain. Nicholas exhaled shakily when the blood flow stopped. He pulled Rocky closer, pressing a kiss to her temple, whispering something soft and trembling. “I’ve got you… You’re okay… just come back to me.” Fuma watched quietly, eyes drifting to (Y/n). His expression was unreadable, except to the wolves who knew him.

He was terrified. Not of the vision. Not of Heeseung. Not of the danger. He was terrified of losing her before he even truly had her. Sora placed a gentle hand on Fuma’s shoulder. “She’s stable. Just unconscious.” Fuma nodded stiffly. “Good.” But inwardly, he was begging the universe, fate, whoever would listen: Please wake her. Please let Rocky have answers. Please don’t let her be lost to me. Nicholas held Rocky as if she were made of glass. And Fuma sat, silent and unmoving, as the girl who was his mate breathed softly beside him. Waiting. Hoping. Praying that Rocky would wake… and tell them the truth.

About thirty minutes passed before Rocky stirred. Nicholas had refused to move from the floor; he held her curled against his chest, one arm supporting her back, the other wrapped protectively around her shoulders. When she suddenly gasped awake, he nearly jolted. “Rocky?” Her eyes snapped open, glowing faintly violet, the remnants of the oracle magic burning beneath the surface. The glow flickered, then slowly dimmed, fading back into her normal eye color.

She blinked, dazed. Disoriented. Trying to remember where she was. Nicholas cupped her cheeks gently. “Hey, hey… I’m right here.” Rocky exhaled shakily, leaning into the touch. Harua immediately rushed over from the kitchen, a glass of water in hand. “Here, drink this,” he said, voice soft but worried. Rocky took it with trembling hands. “Thanks,” she whispered, taking small sips. The cool water grounded her, easing the tight, burning feeling in her chest.

Across the room, (Y/n) was still unconscious on the cushions, her breathing steady but shallow. Fuma remained beside her, sitting cross-legged, his posture protective even in stillness. He hadn’t moved once, as if any shift might disturb her. Maki sat next to him, shoulder touching Fuma’s own, offering quiet support the way only a younger brother could. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. He was just there, steadying the weight Fuma carried.

Rocky’s gaze drifted toward them. Fuma looked like he was trying not to breathe too loudly. Trying not to show the panic in his chest. Trying to hold himself together as he waited for answers. Rocky swallowed. She didn’t have all of them. Not yet. But she had some, enough to start unraveling the truth. Slowly, she placed the empty glass down on the floor and took Nicholas’ hand, squeezing it for strength before she spoke.

“Okay,” she whispered, voice hoarse from the vision. “I… I saw enough to know what’s happening.” Every head in the room turned toward her. The pack went silent. Fuma’s eyes lifted, golden and tense, the air around him buzzing with dread and hope tangled together. Rocky inhaled deeply. And prepared to tell them.

Rocky took a slow, steady breath before speaking. “(Y/n)’s mind…” she began quietly, “…isn’t just foggy. It’s clouded. Heavily. More than anything I’ve ever seen.” Fuma’s jaw clenched. EJ leaned forward, red eyes narrowing. Rocky continued, her voice tight with worry. “That level of fog… that level of confusion… it doesn’t happen naturally. It’s a sign of tampering.” She swallowed. “Mind control, even.”

A ripple of shock went around the room. Sora’s fangs pressed against her bottom lip. Jay cursed under his breath. Rocky glanced at (Y/n), unconscious beside Fuma. “She’s not choosing to forget things. She’s not choosing not to see. Someone is forcing it.” Fuma looked down at (Y/n), eyes softening with a mixture of fear and sorrow. Maki’s hand tightened on his arm. Rocky exhaled shakily.

“And based on what I saw, on the bond I felt beneath the fog, Fuma is her mate.” Fuma’s breath caught. Barely audible, but noticeable to every wolf in the room. “But whatever is clouding her mind,” Rocky continued, “is trying to keep the two of you apart. I don’t know why. I don’t know how long it’s been going on. But I do know this…” She met Fuma’s eyes. “…it’s powerful. Very powerful.” EJ’s expression darkened. “Can you remove it?” Rocky slowly shook her head, eyes full of regret.

“No. Not this. Not alone. It’s too strong. If I tried to force it, I could hurt her, or myself.” She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. “Whatever spell she’s under… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” Nicholas took her hand, grounding her again. He asked softly, “Rocky… do you know why you bled?” Rocky hesitated. “I… don’t know,” she admitted. “It could’ve been exhaustion. Oracle visions take a toll, and this one was worse than anything I’ve done before.” She swallowed. “Or… it might have been a defense. A backlash from whoever placed the spell on (Y/n).” Nicholas stiffened. “Like the spell pushed back against you?” Rocky nodded. “Yes. Exactly that.”

The pack exchanged uneasy looks. Then Rocky added, her voice a degree colder: “And one more thing. This Heeseung guy? He’s a problem. A serious one.” She didn’t mention the battlefield. She didn’t mention the bodies. She didn’t mention the way his eyes had bled black. She didn’t need to. Her tone said everything. The pack went still. EJ’s fingers curled into fists. Jay’s aura flared with silent fear. Sora’s eyes darkened with ancient vampire instinct. Maki leaned closer to Fuma. And Fuma… He looked at (Y/n) like she was the most fragile thing in the world. His voice came out low, barely above a whisper. “What do we do now?” Rocky exhaled. Rocky rested her head against Nicholas’ shoulder, still pale but steady enough to speak. “I’ll have to try again,” she said quietly. “Later today or tomorrow. I need time to recover, and pushing myself too soon could be dangerous. But… I’m hoping I’ll see more next time.”

The pack nodded, understanding but visibly tense. Rocky looked toward Fuma and (Y/n). “But from what I did see,” she continued, “there are only two possible ways to break the spell.” Fuma’s head lifted immediately. Rocky raised one finger. “First option: Fuma awakens the true mate bond between them. A natural bond breaking an artificial one.” A murmur moved through the room. EJ leaned forward. “Is that possible with how blocked she is?” Rocky nodded slowly. “Yes. But… it won’t be easy.” Fuma’s voice was low, almost careful. “What’s the second option?” Rocky’s expression darkened.

“We get whoever spelled her, whoever clouded her mind, to remove it.” Silence. Cold, heavy silence. No one needed her to say the name aloud. Everyone knew who the prime suspect was. Fuma’s hands tightened into fists. Finally, he asked the question that had been digging into him since the moment he realized his mate couldn’t see him: “How am I supposed to awaken the bond… if she can’t even look at me?” Rocky gave him a sympathetic look. “She might not be able to see you,” she said gently, “but I’m fairly certain she can hear you.” Fuma froze. “She responded in the vision,” Rocky continued. “Her soul reacted to your voice, your voice as a child, even. That connection is still there, buried under the fog.”

She offered a small, apologetic smile. “So you’ll have to try reaching her through talking. Through your presence. Through the bond itself.” She exhaled. “She needs to hear you. Feel you. Recognize you.” Fuma’s breath shuddered out of him. Talking. He could talk. But how did you talk someone into feeling something they’d never been allowed to feel? He wasn’t giving up, he couldn’t, but his eyes flickered with unease. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say to her,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know how to get through when she’s this scared. When she doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Maki nudged him lightly with his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out,” he said softly. “You always do.” But Fuma didn’t feel like someone strong and capable right now. He felt lost. Completely, utterly lost. And yet, when he looked at (Y/n), unconscious and fragile on the cushions… He knew he’d try anyway. Because she was his mate. And he would find a way to reach her.

~~~

Slowly, one by one, the pack began to move. Nicholas gently scooped Rocky into his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. She was still shaking faintly, exhausted from the vision, and he didn’t want her lifting a finger until she’d had time to recover. He whispered soft reassurances as he carried her toward their room, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.

Miyu exchanged a worried look with Jay before picking up her coat. “We’ll check in later,” she told EJ softly. Jay added, “Koyomi still needs someone to open up. We’ll handle the lunch rush.” EJ nodded, giving them a brief, appreciative smile as they slipped out into the snow. Miyu gave Yuma a quick kiss before walking out. Maki took a step toward the hallway, then stopped. He looked at Fuma, really looked, and made his choice immediately. “I’m staying,” he said simply. Fuma didn’t answer out loud. He didn’t need to.

Jo and Sana retreated to their shared room, books already under their arms. They had exams coming up, and Sana muttered something about wanting to get the studying done before things “inevitably went to shit again.” Jo chuckled weakly and shut the door behind them. Aya and Harua stood off to the side, quietly discussing the upcoming interviews they had scheduled for the sanctuary in town. Harua made notes on his phone; Aya kept brushing his hair out of his face while she listed names and dates.

Kei gathered his gear with a calm efficiency that contrasted the tension in the house. “Patrol?” he asked EJ. EJ nodded. “You, me, Taki, and Yuma. We’ll sweep the borders.” Taki grabbed his jacket, eager to get moving. The three wolves stepped out into the cold, their scents fading quickly into the snowy air as they shifted and disappeared into the woods. That left only three people in the living room: Sora. Fuma. Maki. And, of course, the fourth, (Y/n), unconscious and fragile on the cushions. Sora pulled up a chair, sitting close enough to keep an eye on her but giving Fuma enough space to breathe. She wasn’t hovering; she was supporting. Quietly. Steadily.

Maki sat beside his older brother on the floor, leaning against the couch, offering silent companionship. Fuma barely moved. He just… watched. Every rise and fall of (Y/n)’s chest. Every twitch of her fingers. Every quiet breath. The house had gone soft and still. Like the world was holding its breath with him. Sora sat quietly for a moment, watching Fuma’s shoulders rise and fall with every anxious breath. The room felt too still, too fragile, like one wrong sound would shatter something inside him. So she began talking.

“Back at the coven,” Sora said softly, “(Y/n) was one of my closest friends, before I became a vampire, even after, before I came here.” Fuma’s eyes flickered toward her, just slightly. Listening. “She’s a quiet girl,” Sora continued. “Calm. A bit like Jo, actually. Introverted in her own way. But… so incredibly kind.” Her gaze softened at the memory. “When my sickness got worse, when I was at my lowest… (Y/n) was the only one who visited me in the hospital. Every day, if she could.” Sora smiled faintly. “She’d bring me books. Gossip from the coven. Stupid stories about the trainees and their dramas. Anything that might distract me.”

Fuma’s throat tightened at the image, this gentle, caring girl bringing life back to Sora’s darkest days. He hoped, desperately, to meet that version of her. Not the fogged-over version lying in front of him now. Not the shell forced into being by someone else’s will. But her. Her real self. The one fate intended for him. Maki remained quiet, leaning against the couch, watching his brother more closely than anyone else.

These last two years had been hell for the pack. Almost losing Yuma. Sora and EJ nearly falling apart. Jay arriving with more terror than trust. All the pieces that felt too fragile, too breakable. But they survived. They had become stronger. And now, watching Fuma, the most steady, most unshakable wolf he knew, sit beside his unconscious mate with worry tightening every muscle in his body… Maki felt something inside him twist.

He wanted this to work. For Fuma. For (Y/n). For everything they’d all fought for. Sora reached out and rested a gentle hand on Fuma’s knee. “She’s a good person,” she said quietly. “A strong one. That hasn’t changed… even if she can’t show it right now.” Fuma lowered his gaze to (Y/n), his voice barely a whisper. “I just want her to be herself again.” Sora smiled sadly. “Then we’ll help her get there.”

~~~

(Y/n) didn’t wake for quite some time. Her body rested, but her mind… fought. Fought the fog. Fought the voices that weren’t hers. Fought the pull of memories she didn’t remember living. She heard things, voices around her, but they sounded warped, underwater. She couldn’t make out words, only tones. Warm. Concerned. Familiar in ways she couldn’t name. Flashes pushed through the darkness: Heeseung smiling. Heeseung holding her hand. Heeseung drinking from her neck. Then, other flashes. Sharper. Wrong. Memories she didn’t think belonged to her at all. Like someone else’s life had been shoved into her skull. Like her head was full of echoes that didn’t line up.

Eventually, she gasped and woke up. The room was dim, the fire crackling softly. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. Then she noticed Sora sitting on the couch. Relief washed over her chest. Beside Sora sat one of the wolves, the one she assumed was the alpha. He had that sort of presence. Strong. Steady. Protective without trying to be. On the floor, leaning against the couch, another wolf slept. Younger, relaxed, peaceful. She didn’t know his name either. Everything felt blurry still. The moment she stirred, Fuma moved back slightly, giving her space, trying not to overwhelm her. His heart hammered in his chest, but he forced himself to breathe.

Sora noticed instantly. She leaned forward, offering a kind smile. “You’re awake.” (Y/n) blinked slowly, trying to clear her head. “Yeah… I think so.” “How are you feeling?” Sora asked softly. “Tired.” Her voice was thin, as if her words were balancing on cracked glass. Sora nodded. “That makes sense. Oracle readings tire out both people involved, not just Rocky.” (Y/n) rested back against the cushions, lids heavy. She didn’t understand what had been done to her. Why her head felt split in half? Why couldn’t she remember why she’d come here? Why could she hear fear in her own breathing? But the one thing she didn’t notice was the tall wolf sitting silently beside her. Watching her with soft eyes. Wishing she could see him.

“(Y/n), this is EJ,” she said, gesturing to the wolf beside her on the couch. “He’s the alpha here, and my mate.” EJ offered a small, reassuring nod. “And over there,” Sora pointed to the younger wolf sleeping on the floor, head tilted at an awkward angle, “that’s Maki. Youngest of the pack.” Maki snored softly in response, making Sora smile. Then she turned her hand toward Fuma. “And this is Fuma,”

But (Y/n)’s brows knit together before she even finished. “Who?” she asked softly. Her eyes followed Sora’s gesture… but landed on empty air. She saw the chair. The rug. The fire. The blanket someone had folded neatly at the edge of the couch. Just not the person sitting beside her. “There’s no one there.” The innocence in her voice made the words hit even harder. EJ felt it. Felt the quiet agony ripple off Fuma like a shockwave. His golden-orange eyes dimmed, shoulders tightening. He didn’t make a sound, wolves rarely did when hurt, but EJ could sense the pain like a crack across the room.

Sora’s breath hitched. She looked quickly at Fuma, searching his face, apologizing silently with her eyes. Then she turned back to (Y/n), forcing a gentle smile. “Oh, sorry,” she said, adapting on the spot. “I meant that Fuma is… outside. On patrol, sort of. He’s around the village somewhere.” A harmless lie. A necessary one. (Y/n) blinked slowly, trying to process it through the fog. “…Oh,” she murmured. “That makes sense, I guess.” She didn’t question it further. Her mind wasn’t clear enough to. She simply leaned back, accepting the explanation as truth.

Fuma looked at his hands. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe for a moment. He just sat there, invisible to the one person who mattered most. Maki stirred, waking slightly, and glanced at his older brother, and his expression softened with quiet worry. Sora reached over and gave Fuma’s arm the smallest squeeze. A silent message: We’ll fix this. She’ll see you. She’ll know you. Fuma nodded once, barely, eyes flickering toward (Y/n) with something fragile, hope, fractured but still alive.

Once Maki blinked himself fully awake, he stretched his arms high above his head with a dramatic groan. “Ugh… okay, I’m starving,” he announced. Then he turned to (Y/n) with an easy grin. “Are you hungry too? Because I definitely am. And trust me, everyone else will be soon.” EJ perked up immediately, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. “Oh, finally,” he said, relieved. “We’ll be eating gourmet tonight and not the half-burned disaster the others call dinner.”

Maki snorted. Sora laughed. And (Y/n) blinked, curious. “Gourmet?” she repeated softly. “What does that mean?” Sora smiled warmly at her. “Maki usually works evenings at Koyomi, the restaurant Jay and Miyu own. So when neither of our master chefs are home, we have to cook for ourselves.” She shrugged playfully. “And compared to what Miyu and Maki can make, the rest of us… aren’t that impressive.” (Y/n) gave a small, shy smile, her first real one since waking. It was small. Tentative. Fleeting. But a smile.

Fuma saw it, even if she didn’t turn her face toward him. And gods, it hurt. Not in a bad way, but in that deep, aching, overwhelming way that made his wolf turn over in his chest. He wanted to protect that smile, keep it safe, make sure nothing ever took it away again. He looked away, swallowing hard. Maki pushed himself to his feet, stretching again with a satisfied sigh. (Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly as she looked up, she hadn’t realized how tall he was when he wasn’t curled up on the floor.

Maki caught the glance and grinned. “Surprised?” he chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I was raised well. Grew up big and strong.” (Y/n) let out a small laugh, soft, breathy, almost accidental. And that second smile, Fuma felt it like a hit straight to his heart. Sora watched him out of the corner of her eye, gently nudging his leg with her foot in silent support. Maki gave (Y/n) a playful wink.

“Alright, let me see what ingredients we’ve got. You’ll eat well tonight, promise.” He headed to the pantry while EJ went to the kitchen. Maki called out over his shoulder, “EJ! Don’t touch anything until I get there!” EJ scoffed. “I wasn’t gonna! …Probably.” (Y/n) laughed again… and this time, even Fuma couldn’t stop the small, quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A little bit of warmth had returned to the room. A little bit of normal. And for Fuma… it was enough. For now.

~~~

As the smell of food drifted through the halls, warm, rich, comforting, the pack naturally gravitated toward the living room. Sana and Jo were the first to join Sora and (Y/n). They sat cross-legged on the floor, chatting about the movie they’d watched earlier, letting (Y/n) join at her own pace. She stayed quiet at first, fingers curled around her cup, listening more than she spoke. She didn’t mind it. It felt… safe. Soon, Aya and Harua came in as well, each with soft smiles. Aya sat beside Jo, and Harua settled near Sora, checking to make sure (Y/n) was comfortable with more people around. She nodded shyly, appreciating the careful respect they all showed her.

It was strange; the coven never did this. There, strangers were threats. Here, strangers were welcomed as if they’d always belonged. She understood, suddenly, why Jay had left the coven entirely when he met Miyu. And why Sora hadn’t once regretted coming here. The pack laughed softly among themselves, but always left space for her to speak if she wanted to. No pressure. No expectations. Just warmth.

Then the front door opened, letting in a cold breeze, followed by Kei, Yuma, and Taki returning from training after patrol. Kei’s eyes found the group instantly. Then he saw Aya. Without hesitation, he walked straight to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a warm embrace. Aya melted into him, tilting her head as he pressed a tender kiss to her hair. A soft, loving, everyday gesture. Natural. Effortless. True. “Gonna change real quick,” Kei said quietly, brushing Aya’s cheek with his thumb. He slipped away toward the hallway, leaving her smiling to herself.

(Y/n) stared. She tried to look away politely, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment, but… She couldn’t help it. That kind of love, gentle and unconditional, rooted in soul and instinct, was foreign to her. She had never seen Heeseung look at her that way. Never felt cherished simply because she existed. Never been held as she mattered more than anything else. Her chest tightened. She didn’t know if it was jealousy or grief, or the first quiet cracks in a bond that had never felt entirely real to begin with. Sora noticed her expression and gently bumped her knee with her own. “You okay?” she whispered. (Y/n) nodded. But the truth lingered in her eyes: She had never known love like this.

Dinner passed quickly, wrapped in laughter and warmth that filled every corner of the house. Maki had outdone himself, again, and (Y/n) found herself genuinely enjoying the meal. When she shyly complimented him, cheeks warming, the young wolf threw a dramatic hand over his heart. “Finally!” he exclaimed. “Someone here appreciates my talents! I knew I was destined for greatness!” The entire table burst into laughter, including (Y/n), a soft giggle escaping before she could help it. For a split second, everyone paused, as if hearing something rare and precious. Fuma felt it hit him like a spark in the chest.

Soon after, Nicholas and Rocky joined them, appearing at the doorway after EJ called out for them to come eat. Rocky settled down gently across from (Y/n), looking tired, her magic clearly still draining her. (Y/n) noticed immediately. Rocky’s eyes held a faint exhaustion, her movements slightly slower than everyone else’s. But beside her, Nicholas was attentive in a way that made (Y/n)’s chest ache. Without asking, he filled her glass every time the waterline dipped. Scooped a second serving of food onto her plate the moment her fork paused. Leaned close whenever she swayed, speaking to her in quiet whispers meant only for her ears.

His gaze on her was full of something soft. Steady. Overflowing with love, she could practically feel it from across the table. (Y/n) swallowed thickly. Because it wasn’t just them. EJ’s hand never left Sora’s. Kei’s thigh rested against Aya’s, their shoulders brushing subtly with every movement. Jo tucked Sana under his arm, her head on his shoulder, while she snacked on dessert. And the others, Yuma, Maki, Harua, and Taki, moved with the easy, warm closeness of siblings.

It was everywhere. Love that wasn’t possessive. Love that wasn’t sharp or painful. Love that wasn’t taken, but given. She had never seen so much love in one room before. Not with Heeseung. Not with the coven. Not… ever. And she didn’t know whether to smile through the warmth blooming in her chest, or cry for the years she’d gone without it.

After dinner, when everyone was full and relaxed and drifting into smaller conversations, Sora touched (Y/n)’s elbow gently. “Hey,” she whispered. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” (Y/n) nodded, following her into a quieter hallway. “What’s going on?” Sora hesitated, choosing her words carefully. She wasn’t going to lie, but Rocky had strongly warned her not to reveal the full truth yet. Not until (Y/n)’s mind was clearer. Not until they knew the spell wouldn’t backfire.

So Sora did the next best thing. “We… think the fog in your mind is blocking you from seeing one of the wolves in the pack,” Sora said softly. “We don’t know why yet. Rocky’s still working on figuring it out.” (Y/n)’s brows knit with confusion. “Blocking me from seeing?” “Yes,” Sora said, voice gentle. “You saw everyone else today. Except one.” She touched (Y/n)’s hand. “And if you’re okay with it… We want to see what happens if you talk to him. See if the fog reacts. If anything changes.” (Y/n) took a breath, nervous but trusting Sora more than anyone. “…Okay. I can try.” Sora smiled warmly. “Thank you.”

Which was how (Y/n) now found herself sitting on a small cushion in Fuma’s room. The space was neat, cozy, and warm. A soft yellow lamp lit the space. A blanket lay folded on the bed. A small carved wooden wolf sat on the dresser. Across from her sat Fuma. Except, she still couldn’t see him. Her eyes slid over where he sat, her mind refusing to form his outline. It made her uneasy, like sensing a person but not being allowed to look at them.

Fuma’s heart pounded painfully. His hands lay on his knees, steady despite the storm inside him. He had spent hours imagining this moment, the moment he could finally speak to her. But now that it was here… He didn’t know what to say. Sora sat slightly off to the side, giving them space but remaining close enough for comfort. “Just… talk,” she said softly. “Anything. Introduce yourselves. Let the bond try.” (Y/n) licked her lips nervously. “I… I don’t know where to start,” she admitted quietly. Fuma swallowed hard, voice low, gentle, and warm enough to make Sora blink in surprise at how soft he could be. “…Me neither.”

(Y/n) felt something twist in her chest at the sound of his voice, like a distant tug, an echo of recognition she couldn’t place. She tilted her head, trying to listen more closely. Sora watched them both, heart aching for them. For the wolf who could see his mate but couldn’t be seen. And for the girl whose entire life had been rewritten in fog and lies. After a long moment, (Y/n) whispered: “Can you… tell me your name again?” Fuma inhaled shakily. “It’s Fuma,” he said quietly. “I’m… one of the older wolves in the pack.” (Y/n) nodded. She felt something stir. Warmth. Safety. Something she didn’t have words for. But when she tried to look toward his voice, the fog blocked her again. She sighed, frustrated.

“I want to see you,” she admitted softly. “But I can’t.” Fuma’s breath caught. His voice wavered. “…I know. I’m here anyway.” And for the first time, (Y/n)’s chest fluttered, a soft, faint pull toward the man she couldn’t see. (Y/n) hesitated, then asked softly: “…Can you tell me something about you? Anything.”

Fuma froze. Talking about himself wasn’t something he normally did. And talking about himself to her felt like his lungs had turned to stone. But he inhaled slowly, grounding himself, and tried. “Well…” he began, voice low, “I work as a personal trainer at a gym in town.” (Y/n)’s head tilted slightly, listening closer. “I also handle most of the patrols around the village,” he continued. “Making sure everything’s safe. Making sure everyone else can sleep without worry.”

He shifted, fingers curling on his knee. “And I’m the second oldest in the group. After Kei.” Then he faltered. “…I don’t really know what else to say.” (Y/n) didn’t reply right away. She was listening too hard, to every tone, every shift in his voice, leaning subtly toward where she thought he was sitting. Trying to see him. Trying to feel where he was. But every time her gaze moved toward him, the fog yanked her attention away. Her eyes skated right past him again, landing on the wall or the dresser or Sora instead. Her brows knit in deep frustration.

She wanted to see him. He wanted to be seen. And neither of them knew how to bridge the gap. Sora watched the struggle, then gently stepped in. “(Y/n)… how do you feel? Hearing him talk?” (Y/n) blinked, surprised by the question. “I… I feel normal,” she said honestly. “Like usual. Nothing different really.” Sora smiled softly. “Good. That means talking isn’t triggering anything bad. No backlash. You two can keep going at your own pace.” Fuma exhaled, quietly, but with clear relief. She didn’t feel pain. She didn’t feel overwhelmed. She didn’t recoil. He could speak to her. He could reach her. Piece by piece. A small, warm spark in the dark fog between them. And Fuma felt hope flicker alive in his chest.

That was enough for the night. They didn’t want to overwhelm (Y/n), not when her mind was still fighting through fog thick enough to choke her senses. So they gently ended the conversation there. Sora helped her to her feet, keeping one hand lightly on her back as they walked down the hall to EJ and Sora’s cabin. They had already prepared a guest room, freshly made bed, soft pillows, extra blankets. Sora lent her clothes too, comfortable ones, warm enough for the cold night. (Y/n) thanked her in a small voice before curling up beneath the blankets. Sleep pulled her under almost immediately. Her mind needed it. Her heart needed it even more.

Meanwhile, the main house lights were still on. By the time Miyu and Jay returned to the village, brushing snow off their coats, a group was waiting inside: Sora. Rocky. Fuma. EJ. Nicholas. Jake, who had arrived just moments before. And Yuma, who paced near the door like an anxious puppy. Though, in his defense, he was mostly waiting for Miyu. The moment she stepped inside, he wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her hair with a relieved sigh. She melted into him, whispering a soft “I missed you too.”

Once they settled, Jay took a seat among the others, pulling off his gloves. “So,” he started, eyes sweeping over the tense faces, “did you find out anything new?” The room fell silent. Rocky stared at her hands. Fuma looked at the floor. EJ exchanged a glance with Sora, who exhaled quietly. One by one, they shook their heads. No breakthroughs. No solutions yet. Only more questions and more concern. And the knowledge that Heeseung’s shadow was lingering somewhere beyond the trees. Jay leaned back, rubbing his temples.

Rocky rubbed her palms against her knees, grounding herself before she spoke. “I still need to do another oracle reading,” she said quietly. “There’s more there. I could feel it. Something deeper I couldn’t reach the first time.” Jay nodded, urging her to continue. Rocky looked around at the group, eyes landing on Fuma for a moment before drifting away again. “One thing still confuses me,” she admitted. “She’s hearing young Fuma’s voice in her mind. Not current him. Not adult him. Young.” Rocky hesitated. “If it had been adult Fuma, I wouldn’t have thought twice. The bond can echo like that. But… seeing it was him as a kid, I’m almost sure it means their paths crossed back then.”

Fuma’s head shot up. His eyes widened, an extremely rare expression for him. “Crossed?” he repeated. “You mean… we met before?” Rocky nodded slowly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. The mind doesn’t conjure a mate’s childhood voice unless it’s been heard. Experienced. Connected to.” A silence fell over them. Finally, Fuma swallowed, voice low. “Do you… have any idea how old I looked? In the vision?” Rocky closed her eyes, recalling the fog, the echo of the voice, the vague shape of the boy she’d heard. “Not exactly,” she murmured. “But maybe… thirteen or fourteen? At most sixteen.”

Fuma leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “If I were sixteen,” he said quietly, “I should’ve recognized her. At that age, my wolf was fully present. If she had been nearby, we would’ve known.” Sora nodded. “Then that means you were younger, right?” Fuma shook his head, conflicted. “If I were younger… eleven? Twelve? Thirteen?” He sighed. “Sometimes the mate bond doesn’t manifest clearly at that age. Wolves don’t always sense their mates until later.” “Exactly,” Rocky said. “Which brings me to the part that confuses me.”

Her eyes locked onto Fuma again, worried, searching. “If you already met her, and she remembers your voice enough for it to echo through her dreams…” She took a breath. “Why didn’t your wolf recognize her when she arrived? Why didn’t you know until her scent hit you today?” Fuma stared at the floor, jaw tightening. He didn’t have an answer. And the silence that followed told everyone one thing: Something had happened in the past. Something forgotten. Something buried. Something important enough to bind (Y/n) to him long before either of them realized it. Rocky leaned forward, voice barely above a whisper. “I think your past with her… is the key to everything.”

Fuma’s voice was barely steady when he finally asked, “Why don’t I remember her? Only her mind was tampered with. Not mine. So why can’t I recall ever meeting her?” Rocky winced, sympathy crossing her face. “I… don’t know for sure. But I have a theory.” The room leaned in. Even Jake, who normally wore his confidence like armor, looked unusually serious. Rocky clasped her hands together. “Whatever spell was placed on (Y/n)… it’s powerful. More powerful than anything I’ve ever sensed.” She swallowed. “And because you two are mates, truly mates, the bond between you is deeper than either of you realized.”

Fuma’s throat tightened. “So you’re saying… the spell affected me too?” “Not directly,” Rocky said quickly. “I don’t think anyone cast a spell on you. But if her memories of you were buried or rewritten, then the bond’s resonance with you might have been muffled. Blurred. Like a ripple reaching you through fog.” Jay frowned. “So a spell strong enough to cloud her mind… echoed into his?” Rocky nodded. “Exactly. If the mate bond was already forming when they first met, any tampering with her mind could distort his perception, too.”

Fuma didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Because Rocky’s words explained everything. The lack of memory. The sudden surge of recognition today. The way his wolf reacted like it had been asleep and was just now waking. Jake cleared his throat, pulling a thick old book from his bag. Its pages were covered in scribbled notes and bookmarks. “I went through everything Rocky has on mate bonds and mind manipulation,” he said, voice tight. “Old texts, forbidden texts, mythology, case studies, if it’s written down, I read it.”

“And?” EJ asked. Jake exhaled, shaking his head. “She’s right. The only two methods to break a bond-clouding spell are the ones she already mentioned.” He held up two fingers. “One: awaken the mate bond. Naturally. Which means Fuma has to break through the fog himself.” Fuma’s jaw tightened. “And two,” Jake continued, “get the person who cast the spell to remove it.” Silence. Cold. Heavy. Terrifying. Because they all knew who the most likely culprit was. Heeseung. Jay’s expression darkened. Sora’s eyes narrowed dangerously. EJ’s red gaze burned with quiet fury. Rocky glanced at Fuma softly. “We still have time,” she whispered. “We’re not out of options.” Fuma nodded slowly. But deep down, a single truth settled into his bones: If he couldn’t awaken the bond himself… He would have to face the vampire who tried to take his mate from him. And Fuma was ready.

~~~

The next morning, (Y/n) wanted to explore the village grounds. Sora had very conveniently declared, “Everyone else is busy, and honestly, no one knows this land better than Fuma!” Which… wasn’t wrong. But it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. Still, (Y/n) agreed, even though the idea of walking around with a wolf she couldn’t see made her nervous.

So now here they were, wandering along snowy paths, the winter sun glittering against the frost. Fuma tried his best. Really, he did. “And over there is,” he paused, realizing for the seventeenth time that morning he was pointing. “Uh, on your left, there’s the training field. Big area. Very… big.” He winced. (Y/n) giggled softly, hugging her borrowed coat around herself. “I thought wolves had better spatial awareness.” Fuma groaned quietly. “We… do. I swear. I’m just… forgetful today.” “You’ve said that every time,” she teased.

He smiled despite himself. Her laugh did that, chipped away the tension in his chest piece by piece. They continued walking, Fuma narrating the scenery like a tour guide who kept forgetting his own lines. “That building to your right is the forge. Taki and Harua fix weapons and tools there sometimes, though we haven’t used it for a few years now. It’s loud. Smells like metal. And probably smoke.” “…Probably?” she echoed. “I mean, it definitely smells like smoke,” he corrected quickly. “I just,” Caught himself. Again.

(Y/n)’s eyes were trained forward in the wrong direction, her gaze always missing where he actually stood. It wasn’t her fault, but each time she blindly searched for him, his chest tightened painfully. At one point he tried again to gesture, and again remembered too late. He froze mid-movement, groaning into his hands. (Y/n) laughed, covering her smile shyly. “You really like pointing at things, don’t you?” “It’s a curse,” he muttered. “My mortal enemy. My downfall. Out of all my skills, speed, strength, combat training, I am defeated by my own arm.”

This time she laughed louder, unable to hold it back. Fuma’s wolf purred at the sound. “Okay, okay,” she said gently. “How about… instead of pointing, you describe the place? What does it look like to you?” That stopped him. Fuma cleared his throat, turning slightly toward her even though she couldn’t tell. “Well… the training field has this big oak tree at the edge. It’s old. Really old. Probably older than Kei.” She snorted. “Is that possible?” “Barely,” Fuma joked softly. She smiled again, and he soaked in every second of it. “And the center of the field,” he continued, “is always covered in footprints. Wolf prints. It looks like… movement frozen in time. Like you can see everything the pack did the day before.”

(Y/n)’s expression softened. “That sounds beautiful,” she said. “Yeah,” Fuma replied quietly. “It is.” They walked a little farther. The snow crunched under their feet, the forest surrounding them in serene silence. She brushed her hand along the wooden fence they passed, using touch to orient herself. Fuma watched her closely, ready to grab her if she slipped. Ready to catch her. Always.

When she stumbled slightly on a buried rock, he reached out instinctively, then stopped his hand mid-air, afraid physical contact might overwhelm her. (Y/n) steadied herself and whispered, “This place… it feels safe.” Fuma swallowed hard. “I’m glad,” he murmured. “It’s meant to.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you for showing me around… even if you and pointing don’t get along.” He laughed under his breath. “If it means spending time with you,” he said before he could stop himself, “I’d fight every pointing instinct I have.”

He immediately froze. (Y/n) blinked at the sincerity in his words, though she still couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked flustered. And he felt it, the faintest, tiniest spark across the mate bond. Barely there. Soft as a breath. But real. The first crack in the fog. And Fuma’s heart thudded in his chest. They were getting closer. Slowly. But surely.

Suddenly, as they reached the pond, the same place where Fuma had first scented her, something cracked in the woods. A branch. Heavy footsteps. Too heavy to be a deer. Fuma’s entire body tensed. This pond sat right at the edge of pack territory. Too close to the border. Too close to where the last rougaru had appeared. His instincts flared violently. He stepped in front of (Y/n), posture rigid, muscles coiled. A low growl ripped through his chest, warning whatever was out there not to take even one step closer. (Y/n) froze behind him, her hands gripping the sleeves of her coat.

“F-Fuma?” she called, voice trembling as the fear seeped through. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t see the danger, only hear the growls and the woods shifting. Panic rose in her chest. “Fuma, where are you?” He could smell it, the sharp sting of her fear flooding the air. His wolf reacted instantly. He didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Bones shifted. Muscles reshaped. Fur burst across his skin. In a breath, Fuma dropped into his wolf form, massive, powerful, fur a deep mix of charcoal and warm chestnut, a faint glow to his eyes even in the shade of the trees. He planted himself in front of her, a wall of fur and fangs, snarling savagely toward the unknown presence.

The creature or person, whatever it was, heard the warning. Felt the threat. Branches rustled. The weight of the intruder retreated, steps fading farther and farther until the forest returned to its quiet. Only then did Fuma slowly stop growling. When he turned around, he froze. (Y/n) was looking straight at him. Not at the trees. Not toward the path back to the house. Her eyes, still fogged, still unfocused, were locked directly onto him. Her breath hitched softly. “…Fuma?” she whispered, voice small, fragile, disbelieving. As if she could finally see something. Or someone. And in that instant, the mate bond pulsed faintly between them, a spark pushing against the fog.

“Is that… you?” she whispered, voice unsteady. Fuma couldn’t speak like this, not with words, but he dipped his massive head in a clear nod. (Y/n) gasped softly, a shaky breath leaving her lips. Then, to his shock, she lowered herself to her knees right there in the snow. Fuma instinctively sat as well; even seated, he towered over her, broad shoulders casting a protective shadow. But she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

Her hands trembled as she hesitantly reached forward. She stopped right before touching him, hovering inches from his fur. “Can I…?” she asked quietly. He nodded again, slower this time, careful, reassuring. Her hand finally touched him. A soft drag of her fingers along the thick fur of his neck… Down toward his broad chest… Finally, brushing over one of his large paws. Fuma felt it immediately. Sparks. Small but unmistakable, little bursts of warmth traveling through his fur, under his skin, straight to the bond buried deep inside him.

She didn’t react to them, didn’t seem to feel the sparks the way he did, but she saw him. She was looking directly into his wolf eyes, unfazed, searching, almost relieved. Fuma’s wolf leaned ever so slightly into her touch, unable to help himself. Why? Why could she see this form? Why only the wolf, not the man? Her cursed fog should’ve blocked both. It made no sense. And yet, here she was. Touching him. Seeing him. Her fingers curled into the fur at his neck. “You’re… beautiful,” she breathed, barely audible. Fuma’s heart slammed against his ribs.

He didn’t understand it, couldn’t understand it, but his wolf did. Somehow, in this form, he could break through the fog. Somehow, his wolf reached her where his human self could not. And for the first time since he’d scented her… She wasn’t hidden from him. She wasn’t lost. She was looking at him. Seeing him. His mate.

When Fuma had shifted, his wolf form had torn straight through his clothes. Which left him with a new, very urgent problem: He absolutely could not shift back. Not unless he wanted to return to the village completely naked, and that was not how he planned to introduce himself properly to his mate. So he had to communicate another way. He stood, shook out the snow from his fur, then turned his head toward the path leading home. He tilted it meaningfully. (Y/n) blinked at him, confused. He tried again, this time more deliberately, stepping toward the trail and giving another pointed nod.

Nothing. Just her tilted head and a puzzled frown. Finally, Fuma huffed, marched right up to her, then looked from her to the path, then back at her, letting out a quiet, firm “woof.” Her eyes widened with realization. “Oh, you want me to follow you?” she asked. He nodded so hard his ears flopped. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s… go back, then.” She stepped closer, hesitating for a brief moment before walking beside him. The snow crunched softly under her boots as they moved together.

Every so often, her hand drifted to his fur, brushing along his shoulder or the side of his neck, just enough for her to confirm he was still there. Fuma felt her touch like lightning each time. Warm. Trusting. Natural. As if her hand belonged there. His wolf walked slightly slower than usual, adjusting his pace to hers, refusing to let her slip or stumble. Each time her fingers reached for him, he leaned just a fraction into her palm.

And each time she found him, she relaxed, just a little, her shoulders dropping as her breath evened out. She couldn’t see his human form. But she could see this one. She could touch him. Walk with him. Trust him. The bond pulsed faintly again, soft, subtle, but real. And as they made their slow walk back toward the village, Fuma’s wolf made a promise in silence: He would keep her safe. He would guide her through the fog. He would earn her trust, one step at a time, even if he had to stay in wolf form forever.

Once they reached the house, they found Aya, Rocky, and Sana sitting out on the porch, bundled in blankets, steaming mugs of tea in their hands. Aya and Rocky were quizzing Sana on her upcoming exam, holding notes and laughing every time Sana answered with something only vaguely related to the actual topic. All three girls looked up when they spotted (Y/n) and Fuma’s wolf approaching down the path. “Hey!” Sana waved excitedly. Aya smiled warmly, Rocky offered a gentle nod, but her eyes narrowed slightly, curious. Because (Y/n) was looking at the wolf. Not past him. Not around him. At him.

Rocky’s breath caught. Something had definitely happened. And it looked like something good. Fuma nudged (Y/n) with his shoulder, a careful, protective pressure, before turning toward the back of the house. She blinked in confusion as he trotted away. Aya chuckled. “He’ll be back in a minute,” she assured her. “He just needs to go shift.” (Y/n) tilted her head. “Why… can’t he do that here?” The three girls burst into laughter immediately. Rocky actually snorted into her tea, nearly spilling it. Sana leaned closer, whispering dramatically, “Because shifting back means he’d be naked, honey.” (Y/n)’s entire face flushed a deep scarlet. “Oh… oh! I… right… I’m…” she stammered helplessly. Aya patted her shoulder kindly. “Don’t worry. First-timer question. We all asked it once.” Rocky grinned into her cup. “Some of us, after seeing the consequences.” Sana choked on her tea. “ROCKY!” (Y/n) buried her face in her hands, mortified, but despite her embarrassment, she felt… safe. Warm. Included.

(Y/n) settled onto the porch with them, and Aya immediately scooted over to make space. Rocky grabbed another blanket from the back of her chair and wrapped it carefully around (Y/n)’s shoulders. “There,” Aya said, tucking the corner around her arm. “Now you’re one of us.” Rocky muttered something under her breath, soft, fluid syllables, and then waved her hand lightly. A cup of steaming tea appeared on the little wooden table in front of (Y/n), the scent of honey and herbs drifting up in the cold air. (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “That’s… amazing.” Rocky giggled, looking pleased with herself. “That’s the nice part about being a witch. Tea on demand. Snacks too, unless one of the wolves is hovering. Because they have big appetites, they steal all the snacks,” Sana snorted.

They let (Y/n) get a few sips in before Rocky leaned closer, voice lowering just a little. “So… you could see Fuma? In his wolf form?” (Y/n) nodded slowly. “Yeah… when we were out by the pond. I heard something in the woods, and then he was just… there. Or, the wolf was. Big. Really big.” She hesitated, fingers tightening around the warm mug. “I could see him perfectly.” Aya exchanged a quick look with Rocky. Rocky hummed thoughtfully, tapping her fingers against the porch railing. “That’s… interesting.” (Y/n)’s brows furrowed. “Is it… bad?” “No,” Rocky said quickly. “Not bad. Just… curious.” She added gently, “Most mind-blocking spells don’t pick and choose forms. If you can’t see someone, you can’t see them at all.” Sana nodded. “And Fuma’s wolf form is still him. The same soul. Same presence. Just… fluffier.” Rocky shot Sana a look, then turned back to (Y/n).

“The fact that you can see his wolf form might mean something’s already cracking in the spell. Or…” She paused, thinking deeply. “…Or the bond between you two pushed through for a moment.” “The… bond?” (Y/n) repeated quietly. Rocky softened her expression. “We don’t know for sure yet. But something is shifting. Something let you see him, even if just in that form.” (Y/n) stared into her tea, letting the knowledge settle. Something was changing. Something was waking. And she had no idea what it meant, or what it would bring.

Nicholas arrived a few minutes later, parking his car beside the porch. He looked tired but relaxed, having just finished a short meeting in town. The moment he spotted Rocky, he headed straight for her. “Hey, angel,” he murmured as he bent down, kissing her gently before pulling her into a tight hug. Rocky leaned into him easily, right up until he reached over and swiped her cup of tea for a sip. She smacked his shoulder lightly. “Hey! That’s my tea.” Nicholas smirked. “And you love me.”

She raised a brow. “Sit, boy. Be a good dog.” Nicholas froze for a split second, then let out a low, offended growl from his chest. Sana snorted so hard that tea almost came out of her nose. Rocky smirked. “Oh, bite me then, wolfie.” That did it. All four girls, and even (Y/n), despite trying to hide her laughter behind her cup, burst out laughing. Nicholas groaned dramatically, burying his face in Rocky’s shoulder. “Why is every woman in this village a menace?” he mumbled. Rocky patted his hair lovingly. “We keep you humble.”

Just then, the porch door swung open and Taki poked his head out. “Nico! Come play basketball with us! Or literally anything,” he complained. “We’re bored and Jo’s being boring studying.” Yuma appeared right behind him. “Kei’s working. And EJ’s being boring too. Alpha stuff.” He made air quotes around the last part. Nicholas laughed, resigned to his fate. “Alright, alright. Let me go change my shoes, and I’ll come out. But,” he pointed at Taki and Yuma, “go get Maki. He’s not doing anything productive, anyway.” Taki saluted him dramatically. “Yes, Captain Nico.” Yuma rolled his eyes. “He’s been waiting for an excuse to ditch chores anyway.” Both ran off inside yelling, “MAKIIIIII COME PLAY” as if the boy were on the other side of the planet. Nicholas sighed fondly. “Two demons. Absolute demons.” Rocky reached up, kissed his cheek, and grinned. “And you love them.” Nicholas exhaled, defeated. “…Yeah. Unfortunately.” He gave Rocky one last squeeze before heading inside to change, the porch still filled with quiet laughter.

(Y/n) watched the scene with wide eyes, unfamiliar, but warm. This pack… was different. Chaotic. Loud. Loving. And watching them, she felt something unfamiliar settle in her chest. Safety. Belonging. Hope.

~~~

While some of the boys played loudly in the distance, the rhythmic thump of a basketball echoing between their laughter, Rocky gathered supplies once more. The living room lights dimmed. Candles circled the floor again, their flames flickering gold and violet. The air felt heavier this time, charged with anticipation… and fear. (Y/n) sat on the rug, hands folded tightly in her lap. She tried to steady her breathing, but her fingers trembled. Her heart raced.

She had hoped, desperately, that after seeing Fuma’s wolf form, the fog might loosen its grip entirely. That she would turn and find him clearly waiting for her. But she still couldn’t see his human form. Only his voice reached her. “(Y/n)… It’s okay,” Fuma said softly from her left. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” His words were gentle, warm, but she could hear the strain underneath. The worry. The fear of losing her to whatever force was clouding her mind. “I want to,” she whispered. “I need to know why my head feels wrong. Why can’t I…” She hesitated. “…why can’t I see you?” Fuma swallowed. She couldn’t see it, but Rocky caught it, glancing briefly his way.

Jake sat across from Rocky, hands resting on his knees, grounding her quietly. His presence was a steady anchor, calm, strong, unwavering. Nicholas played hard out on the court, a way to ease his worry. He’d tried to argue, but ultimately agreed to give Rocky space, only because Jake promised to watch over her. Rocky took a breath, then another. She looked at (Y/n), eyes softening. “You’re brave,” she whispered. “Really brave.” (Y/n) shook her head. “I’m scared.” “That’s usually how bravery works.” Rocky extended her hands toward (Y/n), palms up. “You ready?” A pause. (Y/n) inhaled shakily… then placed her hands in Rocky’s.

Fuma stepped closer, watchful, every muscle tight. He didn’t speak again, didn’t trust his voice not to break, but his presence lingered near her, solid as a wall. Outside, the boys shouted something triumphant, probably Maki scoring on Nicholas, but in here, the world shrank to candlelight and cold fear. Rocky let her magic rise slowly, carefully. Violet shimmered along her fingers. The air thickened. The bond between them tightened. (Y/n) squeezed Rocky’s hands. “Whatever happens,” she whispered, “don’t… let go.” Rocky nodded once. “I won’t.” And then, she began the second reading.

The vision snapped into existence violently this time, the darkness and thick fog swallowing Rocky whole. She didn’t waste a second. The pain would come, she knew it would, but she ran anyway, boots slamming against the phantom ground of (Y/n)’s mindscape, pushing through the heavy mist. Images flickered by on either side like half-remembered dreams: Heeseung feeding… (Y/n) smiling dimly at something… A coven hallway… Blood dripping onto stone… She didn’t stop. Not until the haze shifted and she found the point she’d seen before, the blurred outline of a young Fuma, no older than fourteen maybe, standing in the woods with searching eyes.

This time, Rocky stayed silent. Watching. Studying. Fuma turned in a small circle, voice calling out into the trees: “Hey, come on now. Where are you? We have to go!” His voice was young, lighter, higher, but undeniably his. Movement caught Rocky’s eye. A small figure stumbled out from behind a tree, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. A very tiny Maki, maybe 5 or 6 years old. “Do we really have to go?” he whined, dragging his feet. Fuma sighed like a teenager far too old for his age. “Unfortunately, yes. We need to keep looking for a pack. Come on.” Maki took Fuma’s hand instinctively, the way a little brother would. They started walking again, young Fuma determined, young Maki trusting. A shout echoed through the forest. High. Sharp. Frightened.

Both boys froze. They ran. Rocky followed as they broke through the trees into a small clearing, and there she was. (Y/n). A young version, maybe twelve or thirteen, curled on the ground, clutching her ankle. She’d slipped on a tree root, leaves, and dirt clinging to her clothes. Fuma was at her side in an instant, dropping to his knees. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry thick in his voice. She blinked up at him, wiping at her eyes. “Y-yeah… just slipped. Thank you.” He helped her stand, steadying her until she found her balance. She smiled shyly. He smiled back. And then, as quickly as it had happened, she turned and hurried off through the trees, limping lightly but determined.

Maki tugged Fuma’s sleeve. “Who was that?” Fuma stared after the girl for a long moment, expression unreadable. “…Don’t know,” he finally said. And that was it. They went one way. (Y/n) went another. Separate paths. Rocky’s chest tightened. It had been such a small meeting, a fleeting moment. Barely anything. But the mate bond could form young. And if a spell hit (Y/n) later… It might have covered that early imprint. Buried it. Twisted it.

Rocky stepped forward, and pain shot up her legs, fiery and suffocating, reaching to her knees. She winced but didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. There had to be more. Answers deeper in. Something, or someone, was fighting her. But Rocky gritted her teeth and continued on, limping into the thickening fog. “Show me,” she whispered through clenched teeth. And the maze trembled in response. Rocky pushed forward. Her legs burned, really burned, every step feeling like molten iron creeping up her calves. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Not when she’d finally found something real. Not when (Y/n) and Fuma needed answers.

The fog thickened, fighting her, pulling at her like hands dragging her backward. Rocky gritted her teeth. “No,” she hissed. “Not this time.” Her feet pounded against the shifting ground, half running, half stumbling. Pain climbed to her thighs, but she kept going. Then, that scream. The shrill, terrified scream of (Y/n). But this time… it didn’t throw her out. It opened the fog. The haze parted like curtains being ripped away, revealing a room.

Dark. Damp. Claustrophobic. A single lantern flickered weakly beside a bed. And on that bed, (Y/n). Rocky froze.

(Y/n) was curled in on herself, clutching the sheets, her body spasming with pain. Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing hitched in ragged gasps. Her neck, fresh wounds. Not healed. Deep vampiric punctures, still irritated and red. Heeseung’s feeding marks. Rocky’s stomach twisted. Before she could take another step, he appeared. Heeseung emerged from the shadows like smoke given form, tall, composed, elegant in a horrifying way. His movements were too smooth, too deliberate.

He knelt beside (Y/n), his expression unreadable. Then he gently, almost lovingly, took her chin and forced her gaze up to his. “Look at me,” he whispered. The moment their eyes met, (Y/n)’s scream cut off like someone had flipped a switch. Her expression smoothed. Her body relaxed. Her breathing steadied. Rocky staggered, horrified. He hadn’t removed her pain. He had blocked her from feeling it. The suffering was still there, written in every tense line of her muscles, but her mind could no longer perceive it. She was trapped, muted from her own body.

Heeseung stroked her cheek. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Quiet now.” Rocky felt bile rise in her throat. Then he leaned closer, lips brushing (Y/n)’s ear, and whispered something that made Rocky’s heart stop. “Say you love me.” (Y/n)’s empty, glazed eyes stared forward as she whispered back, obediently, “I love you.” Rocky’s breath punched out of her chest. “No… no no no” The fog surged around her, thick and choking, as if trying to hide what came next. But she pushed forward one last step.

Heeseung stilled. Slowly… deliberately… he lifted his head. And looked directly at Rocky. His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Eyes glowing red and black. A voice like velvet and venom slid through the air. “Found you.” Rocky gasped. The entire world convulsed violently, and she was torn out of the vision like a rag doll, thrown back into her body with a force that nearly broke her. The candles blew out. Her breath tore from her lungs. Pain exploded up her spine. She collapsed forward into Jake’s arms, screaming.

The scream ripped through the house like a blade. Every wolf stiffened. Every head snapped toward the living room. Nicholas was inside before anyone else could blink, faster than Fuma had ever seen him move, a feral growl tearing from his throat as he bolted straight toward Rocky. He nearly collided with Jake, who was already kneeling on the floor, cradling Rocky’s limp body. Blood dripped from her nose. And, God, from her ears. Her skin was shockingly pale, frighteningly cold.

Nicholas’s snarl was raw, primal. “Give her to me,” Jake didn’t argue. He carefully shifted Rocky into her mate’s arms. Nicholas clutched her to his chest, voice shaking. “Rocky… Rock, come on, breathe for me, please,” But she didn’t stir. Across the room, (Y/n) lay crumpled on the floor where the vision had thrown her. Fuma held her gently against him, her head supported in his arm as blood slipped down her upper lip. She was unconscious, breathing shallowly, her face drained of color.

Sora hurried to her side, falling to her knees and pressing glowing hands over (Y/n)’s temples. Her powers shimmered faintly, blue, pure, focused, but even she could only stop the bleeding. She couldn’t wake her. None of them could. Jake leaned over Rocky’s form, still in Nicholas’s arms, trying desperately to heal what he could. His hands glowed with the warm, golden light of familiar magic, stabilizing her pulse, easing the worst of the shock, but she didn’t open her eyes. He looked guilty. Terrified. Like he’d failed her. Nicholas didn’t wait. He rose to his feet, holding Rocky carefully, protectively, carrying her bridal-style toward the hallway. “I’m taking her to our room,” he rasped, voice raw. “She needs to be warm, she needs to rest, I can’t, I can’t lose her.” His voice broke on the last word. Fuma had never seen him look so destroyed. The others didn’t stop him. They trusted Nicholas to care for his mate.

As Nicholas disappeared down the hall, EJ moved quickly to Sora’s side. She’d gone pale, wobbling slightly after pouring so much magic into healing. “Sora,” he murmured, dropping to his knees beside her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Enough. That’s enough.” She leaned into him, exhausted. “I stopped the bleeding, but she won’t wake up… I don’t know why she won’t wake up…” EJ pressed a kiss into her hair, grounding her. He turned his attention to Jake, the only one with experience handling Rocky’s powers, the only one who understood the cost of an oracle vision on this scale.

“Jake,” EJ said quietly, firmly, “tell me what’s happening.” Jake kneaded tension out of his hands, still trembling slightly from the backlash. “It’s… the combination,” he said finally, voice low. “Rocky’s oracle powers already tear pieces out of her every time she uses them. You know that.” EJ nodded grimly. “But this spell on (Y/n)?” Jake continued, glancing toward the unconscious girl held protectively in Fuma’s lap. “It’s not normal mind magic. It’s old. Ancient. Powerful in a way I haven’t seen outside of covens with dark histories.”

Sora flinched at that. Jake swallowed hard. “And she’s bonded to Heeseung, not by fate, but by force. His control is suffocating her mind. The spell is fighting back. It doesn’t want to be seen.” EJ’s jaw clenched. “So the vision hit Rocky twice as hard,” Jake finished. “The backlash from the spell and the backlash from her oracle sight, combined.” He shook his head slowly. “She pushed too far this time… and Heeseung pushed back.” Fuma tightened his arms around (Y/n), pulling her gently against his chest, protectively curling over her unconscious form. His eyes burned. If Heeseung ever stepped foot near his territory, If he ever touched her again, Fuma’s wolf would tear him apart. And every wolf in the room felt the same.

~~~

Rocky woke with a violent gasp nearly three hours later. Nicholas was already hovering above her, hands braced on either side of the bed, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t moved. Not even once. He’d sat there the entire time, staring at her unconscious form as if he blinked, she might disappear. When she woke, he exhaled, a shaky, relieved sound, and cupped her cheeks gently. “Rocky… baby… hey, I’m right here,” he whispered. But instead of relaxing, Rocky broke. Tears streamed down her face as she curled into herself, trembling hard enough to shake the mattress.

“He’s coming… he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming,” she kept repeating, voice cracking with panic. Nicholas’s stomach dropped. Her scent was sharp, acidic with fear, terror he’d never smelled on her before. “Hey, look at me, angel.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m right here. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” But she didn’t calm. Her breaths were short, shallow, and almost hyperventilating. Her hands trembled violently. Nicholas couldn’t take it, couldn’t see his mate hurting like this. He gently grabbed her face and kissed her. Soft. Slow. Grounding. Rocky gasped, then inhaled sharply, and finally, her breathing began to steady. Her trembling eased enough for her to speak.

She clung to Nicholas’s shirt, voice barely above a whisper. “He knows… where (Y/n) is. He, he saw me in the vision. He looked right at me, Nicholas. He smiled. And he said he found me.” Nicholas froze. Rocky swallowed hard, still crying but able to speak now. “He’s coming here. To the village. And, and he won’t stop. Not until he gets her back.” Nicholas’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her so tightly she could barely move, but she didn’t want to. She buried her face into his chest, soaking his shirt with tears. Nicholas whispered into her hair, voice low and deadly. “He’ll go through me first. Through all of us.”

When Rocky was stable enough to move, Nicholas lifted her into his arms, bridal-style, protective, refusing to let her feet touch the cold floor. He carried her out of the room, down the hallway, and into the main house. The moment they entered, the entire pack tensed. Maki and Miyu had been cooking dinner, but both froze mid-movement. The wolves with stronger senses all stiffened at once. Even Sora flinched at the overwhelming scent of fear radiating off Rocky. Jake immediately stepped forward, his expression pulled tight with worry. But Rocky hid her face against Nicholas’s neck, still shaking.

Fuma didn’t look up; he was seated on the floor by the couch, cradling (Y/n) carefully in his arms. She hadn’t woken yet. Her head rested against his chest, his jacket wrapped around her small frame for warmth. Her breathing was steady but shallow. He held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world. Like he was terrified that letting go might break her. Nicholas’s voice cut through the silence. “Heeseung is coming.” Every wolf in the room turned rigid. Nicholas continued, louder this time, almost shouting so no one could misunderstand: “He knows where (Y/n) is. He saw Rocky in her vision. And he’s on his way here, now.”

A wave of cold dread rippled through the house. Yuma stepped closer to Miyu, instinctively shielding her. Kei pulled Aya against his chest, jaw clenched. Taki cursed under his breath. Jo took Sana’s hand tightly. EJ’s eyes flashed red, Alpha red, glowing like a warning. Fuma held (Y/n) tighter. His head bowed over her unconscious form, his voice barely a whisper but heavy with promise: “I won’t let him take her.”

Rocky’s breathing gradually steadied, her trembling easing bit by bit. She stayed curled in Nicholas’ arms, refusing to let go, and he didn’t ask her to. His hold was firm, grounding, one hand moving soothingly along her back, the other cupped protectively around her head. He pressed soft kisses to her temple every few seconds, like he was reassuring himself she was really there. When she finally spoke, it was quiet. “I… saw the memory, this time the full one. The one from before. With young Fuma. And Maki was there too.” Fuma looked up sharply. He still held (Y/n) in his lap, protective, eyes shadowed with worry. “I don’t… remember it,” he admitted softly. “Not clearly.” But Maki blinked, frowning slightly as he thought. “I kinda remember,” he said. “We were playing hide and seek. I hid behind a tree, and Fuma,” he looked over at his older brother, “you were calling for me because the sun was going down.” Fuma’s brows knit together as a faint flicker of memory teased the back of his mind. Maki continued: “And after that, right when we were gonna leave, we heard someone shout. A girl. And then… yeah. We found her.”

He looked over at the unconscious (Y/n), expression softening. “It was her. I’m pretty sure it was her, she was obviously younger, but some of her features are the same.” Rocky nodded from Nicholas’s arms. “That part… that memory… it was real. The bond must have formed then, faintly, subtly, but real. And whatever spell hit (Y/n) later… it buried it. Covered it. And since the bond wasn’t fully awakened yet, it dragged Fuma into the fog by association.”

Fuma’s jaw clenched. His wolf snarled inside him. She’d been his all along. He’d met her as a child. Their bond had flickered to life even then. And Heeseung had smothered it. Before Rocky could continue, her voice broke again, cracking under the weight of what she’d seen next. “The last part of the vision…” she whispered. Nicholas tightened his hold instinctively. Rocky swallowed, forcing the words out. “Heeseung was feeding on her. A lot. More than is safe. She was screaming, not because of the bite, but because her mind was fighting him. Fighting the spell.” (Y/n)’s unconscious body shifted slightly in Fuma’s arms, as if some part of her heard it. Rocky continued, voice shaking: “He grabbed her. Held her face. And he used a command to block her pain. Then…” Her breath hitched, tears welling again. “Then he told her to say she loved him.”

Miyu covered her mouth, horrified. Sora’s eyes burned with anger. Kei’s hands curled into fists. Yuma leaned closer to Miyu protectively. Even Taki and Jo looked sick. Rocky shut her eyes tight. “And she said it. Blank. Empty. Because he forced her.” Fuma’s entire body trembled, barely restrained fury shaking through him. The air around him felt charged, dangerous. Heeseung had taken her voice. Her will. Her freedom. And now he was coming for her again. Rocky sniffed, wiping her face against Nicholas’ shirt. “That was when he turned. He saw me.” Her voice grew small. “He smiled at me. Like he had been waiting.” Nicholas growled softly, low and lethal. Rocky pulled in a shaky breath.

“When (Y/n) wakes up… she needs to know. All of it. The truth about the spell, the mind-fog, the manipulation, Heeseung’s control…” She hesitated, eyes flickering toward Fuma. “…and you.” Fuma stiffened. Rocky continued, gentle but certain: “She deserves to know everything before he gets here. Because if we don’t tell her… Heeseung will. And he’ll twist it. He’ll use it. He always has.” The room fell quiet. EJ stood slowly, expression grim, eyes glowing faintly red, the Alpha readying for war. “We tell her,” he said. “Everything. As soon as she wakes.”

Fuma looked down at (Y/n), brushing a trembling hand along her hair. He whispered, low, aching, full of fear and determination: “I’ll be here. When she opens her eyes. I won’t let her face this alone.” And with the storm gathering outside the village… He knew she would need him more than ever.

Once Maki announced that dinner was ready, Rocky wiped her face, steadying her breath. She still looked pale and fragile in Nicholas’ arms, but her voice held a quiet strength when she said: “Let’s wake her. She needs food more than sleep right now. The vision drained her.” Sora moved first. She walked over to where Fuma sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch, (Y/n) still tucked carefully against his chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively, holding her small form like something precious. As if letting go would hurt him.

Sora knelt beside them, her voice soft. “(Y/n)… sweetheart… wake up for me.” She brushed her fingers gently over (Y/n)’s arm. Once. Twice. Finally, (Y/n) stirred. A soft sound left her as she blinked groggily, disoriented. Her vision was blurry at first, then clearer, but still empty of Fuma’s presence. She couldn’t see him. Not like this. But she felt him. The warmth. The steady heartbeat behind her. The strong arms around her, holding her like she mattered. And she just knew. “…Fuma?” she whispered, turning her head slightly toward where she sensed him. He hummed in response, low and gentle, letting her know he was there. “Hey,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

Her body relaxed a little at his voice. Maki hurried over with a bowl of warm stew. Steam rose from it as he held it out to her with a soft smile. “Here. You need this more than any of us,” he said. He handed another bowl to Fuma as well, because of course he did. Even now, Maki wasn’t going to let his big brother skip a meal. The room stilled. Everyone exchanged uncertain looks. Someone had to start the conversation. Someone had to tell her. Rocky inhaled shakily and pushed herself out of Nicholas’ arms. He stayed close, hand on her back, but she moved to sit near (Y/n), close enough to take her hands if needed.

“(Y/n)… before you panic, please know you’re safe here. All of us are here to help you,” she began gently. (Y/n) stiffened slightly, fingers curling into the bowl. Rocky continued, slow and careful: “There’s a spell on your mind. A powerful one. It’s… keeping you from seeing someone in this pack.” (Y/n)’s voice trembled. “Fuma.” “Yes,” Rocky confirmed softly. “Heeseung, he used a very old form of mind control. He blocked out Fuma from your awareness so you wouldn’t sense something important.”

(Y/n)’s breath quickened. She swallowed hard. “What… what important thing?” Rocky looked at Fuma, who held his breath, then back at (Y/n). “Because Fuma is your real mate.” Silence rippled through the room. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, confusion flashing across her features. “That, that can’t be right. I, Heeseung, he,” “He isn’t your mate,” Rocky said firmly but gently, squeezing her hand. “He never was. He forced a bond onto you. A false one. He used mind magic to make you believe it.”

(Y/n)’s lips parted, trembling. She blinked hard, tears forming. “Then… why could I see Fuma as a wolf?” she asked, voice barely audible. Rocky exhaled. “We don’t know yet. Maybe because Heeseung didn’t know Fuma was a werewolf, so he only blocked out his human form. Or maybe…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “…maybe your real bond slipped through for a moment.” (Y/n)’s breath hitched. She wiped her eyes, overwhelmed. “And… there’s something else,” Rocky whispered. Every wolf in the room went still. Rocky’s fingers trembled in Nicholas’ hold, but she didn’t back down. “Heeseung knows where you are now,” she said quietly. “He saw me in the vision. And he’s coming. Soon.” (Y/n) went pale. Her hands shook. And Fuma… Fuma pulled her protectively against his chest, wrapping his arms fully around her, shielding her with his own body. The message was clear. Silent but absolute. He would die before letting Heeseung take her. The pack understood it instantly.

Dinner was unusually quiet. No jokes. No teasing. No chaotic shouting from the younger wolves. Everybody ate slowly, lost in their own thoughts. Even Maki, normally a ball of energy, barely pushed his stew around his plate. Miyu had stepped outside earlier to call Jay, her voice trembling as she explained everything. When she returned, she leaned against Yuma and relayed the message: “Jay says he’ll stay at Koyomi. He wants us to stay here with the pack. And… if Heeseung comes for a fight…” She swallowed. “…Jay said he’ll stand with us.” Sora nodded, unsurprised. Jay was loyal to those he loved, fiercely so.

Harua sat rigidly beside Aya, his shoulders tense, his hands shaking under the table. He finally spoke in a frightened whisper. “The rougaru was one thing. You all fought. You knew what to do. But a vampire,” His voice cracked, fear leaking through. “If a vampire comes here to fight, we all have to fight, don’t we?” Taki, chewing on his lip, nodded miserably. “I can’t even control my shift. I, I don’t know how I’m supposed to help anyone.” Beside him, Jo reached out and squeezed his hand. But even Jo looked frightened.

Aya exhaled slowly, her human scent soft and reassuring. “Listen,” she said gently, looking at each of them with unwavering warmth. “Every single one of you has a role here. Fighting isn’t always about pure strength. Some of you protect. Some of you heal. Some of you strategize. Some of you hold the line.” Kei tightened his arm around her shoulders, pressing a grateful kiss to the top of her head. “We only win things like this together,” she added softly. “Nobody is alone here.” Those words helped. Even if just a little.

Across the table, (Y/n) sat quietly between Fuma and Sora, staring down at her bowl. Her hands were shaking faintly, guilt splintering her expression. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is happening because of me. You’re all in danger because,” She didn’t finish the sentence. Fuma didn’t let her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her gently against his chest. His voice came low and steady, right by her ear, the protective rumble of a wolf calming its mate. “Don’t apologize.” (Y/n)’s breath hitched.

Fuma continued, softer: “Werewolves exist to protect humans from vampires. It’s what we were made for.” She tilted her head slightly, staring into the empty space she thought he occupied. Fuma angled closer, his breath brushing her temple. “And when the human in danger is a mate…” His voice dropped, rough with emotion. “…then there is nothing, nothing, we won’t do to keep them safe.” The room fell silent.

~~~

Far from the warmth of the pack, the coven hall was silent. Cold stone. Candlelight flickering like dying fireflies. The smell of old blood soaked into the walls. Heeseung walked through the corridor without a sound, a shadow slipping between shadows. His expression was calm, composed, almost elegant… yet beneath the surface simmered something venomous. Possessive. Unhinged.

He stopped before a set of tall doors, pushing them open without knocking. Inside, Sunghoon stood with his back turned, sharpening a silvered blade with slow, meticulous strokes. His eyes lifted when Heeseung entered, dark and hungry with long-harbored resentment. “Heard you returned,” Heeseung said, voice smooth as silk over broken glass. Sunghoon smirked. “Only to find that my dear coven is still led by fools too afraid to act.” Heeseung stepped closer. “I’m not one of them.” Sunghoon tilted his head, curious, feline, dangerous.

“What do you want, Heeseung?” Heeseung’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “A visit. To some wolves.” Sunghoon stopped sharpening the blade. Heeseung continued, tone now dipped in ice: “They’ve taken something that belongs to me. My property. And I’m going to reclaim her.” Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, not at the cruelty of the word, but at the opportunity hidden behind it. “And why,” Sunghoon asked slowly, “should that interest me?” Heeseung met his gaze with a look that promised blood. “Because the wolves who took her… also shelter your little traitor.” He paused, savoring the shift in Sunghoon’s expression. “Sora.” A thin crack of anger flickered across Sunghoon’s face. “And her precious mate,” Heeseung added in a whisper, venomous. “EJ.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Sunghoon finally sheathed the blade. “You should’ve said that from the beginning,” he murmured, eyes glowing faintly red. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to finish what I started.” Heeseung extended a hand. “So,” he said, a cruel smile curling on his lips, “shall we pay them a visit?” Sunghoon took his hand without hesitation. “Let’s end the wolves,” he breathed, “and take back what’s ours.” Together, the two vampires left the coven, shadows slipping into the night, heading straight for the quiet town the wolves called home. And neither of them planned to return empty-handed.

~~~

The cold evening settled over the pack house, the sky already darkening, and the snow reflecting the warm glow from the windows. After dinner, once everyone drifted off to different corners of the house, (Y/n) called out quietly for Fuma. “Can I… talk to you?” Her voice was small, but steady. Fuma nodded before he remembered he had to speak, so he said yes. Sora noticed, giving him an encouraging smile as she placed a thick coat over (Y/n)’s shoulders.

They stepped outside together, the air biting cold, but clean and calming. Fuma made sure she had not only the coat but an extra blanket wrapped around her before guiding her to the small wooden couch on the porch. At first, he moved to sit across from her, giving her space, but her hand gently brushed his sleeve, not letting him leave. “Could you… sit here? Next to me?” she asked quietly. “So I know you’re close?” Fuma swallowed hard and sat beside her, careful, his body angled slightly toward her but not too close. Her shoulder brushed his arm, warm, light, and it nearly knocked the breath from him.

They sat in silence for a moment, breath visible in the cold, before (Y/n) gathered the courage to speak. “How long have you known?” she asked. “About the mate thing.” Fuma hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to answer, but because his heart tightened just thinking about that moment. “Since yesterday,” he admitted. “When I found you and Sora at the pond.” (Y/n) turned her head slightly toward the sound of his voice, though her eyes couldn’t quite land on him.

“Because of… the growling?” she asked softly. “Yeah,” he breathed. “When I saw the… the marks on your neck, my wolf reacted before I could think. He knew immediately.” Her hand lifted instinctively, brushing her fingers against her neck. The healing punctures were still tender beneath her touch. She hesitated, voice wobbling just slightly. “Based on how many times he fed from me… I’ll probably have these forever.” A beat. “I guess I’ll never get rid of them.” Fuma’s jaw tightened, but he forced his voice to stay soft.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice low. “Maybe. Maybe not. Rocky or Sora might be able to fade them with time.” A pause. “But even if they stay… they don’t define you.” (Y/n) swallowed, eyes dropping to her lap. “It feels like they do.” His chest tightened. He wanted to reach for her, wanted to hold her and erase every trace of what Heeseung had done, but he didn’t push. Instead, he spoke softly. “Scars mean you survived something you shouldn’t have had to.” Another breath. “And the fact that you’re sitting here… talking… fighting to understand all this? That’s stronger than anything he ever did to you.”

(Y/n) blinked hard, eyes glassy but not falling into tears. She leaned a little closer, instinctively, as though drawn by something her mind still couldn’t fully name. She hesitated before speaking again.

“I don’t know what to feel, I don’t know what is actually me and what is Heeseung,” He turned his head slightly toward her, the faintest ache in his chest. “I know,” he murmured. “And you don’t have to pretend you understand everything. I’m not expecting you to feel anything you’re not ready for.” She looked up at him even if her eyes didn’t quite land on his. “But you’re not upset? Or disappointed?” “Of course not.” His answer came immediately. “I’m just… relieved you’re here. Alive. Safe. That’s all that matters right now.”

A soft, almost disbelieving laugh left her, breath misting in the cold air. “You’re… really kind.” Fuma’s lips tugged upward, a small, shy smile she couldn’t see. “Not always,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ask Maki.” That made her laugh again, quiet and sweet, a sound that made Fuma’s entire wolf settle in an instant. Another silence settled, softer now. (Y/n) hesitated, shifting slightly so her shoulder brushed his arm. Fuma stiffened, then exhaled honestly.

They stayed like that for a long while, the cold air biting at their skin while the soft glow from inside the house spilled across the porch. (Y/n)’s head rested carefully against Fuma’s shoulder, or where she knew his shoulder should be. It was strange, feeling warmth and solid strength beneath her cheek, yet seeing nothing but empty space when she lifted her eyes. She wished she could see him. Not just his wolf, him. The man with the voice that felt steady, warm, grounding.

A small idea formed in her mind. She’d seen it in movies, or maybe read it in books. When someone couldn’t see, they would touch the other person’s face to imagine what they looked like. Maybe… maybe that could help her too. So she asked, voice hesitant, “Fuma… can I… try something? Can I touch your face? To… know what you look like?” Fuma stilled, surprise flickering across his features before softening into something gentler. Shy, but open. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Of course you can.”

He reached for her hands, guiding them gently until her palms hovered near his cheeks. When she made contact, he closed his eyes. Her fingertips were soft, curious, careful, as if she feared she might break him somehow. She explored slowly, mapping him out. His hair first, brushing through the strands. Then his ears. Her fingers traced the line of his brows, the curve of his nose. When she brushed over his lips, just barely, Fuma felt his breath catch, but he stayed still, letting her learn him.

Her touch moved along his jawline, following the sharp angle, then down to his neck and shoulders. She paused, surprised at the firm muscle beneath her hands. “Wow…” she whispered, almost to herself. “You’re really well built.” Fuma, shy to his core but trying desperately to play it cool, let out a soft laugh. “Well… I am a personal trainer,” he joked lightly. It earned him a small smile, one he felt more than saw. Her hands drifted back up, cupping his cheeks. Slowly, carefully, she leaned forward until her forehead touched his. A soft exhale left both of them at the same time.

They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, warm breath mingling in the cold air, both wishing things were simpler. Wishing this wasn’t the only way she could know him. Wishing the bond between them wasn’t buried beneath a fog he couldn’t break. But for now, they just breathed together. For now, this was enough.

Fuma stayed perfectly still when she pulled back just slightly, her hands still resting against his cheeks. Her breath shook, her voice trembling as she tried to speak, and he could hear the fear lining every syllable. “I… I don’t want to go back,” she whispered. “Me, without all this fog, without whatever Heeseung did, I don’t want to go back.” She swallowed, the next words breaking apart as they left her. “But I can’t promise I’ll say the same when he’s here. I don’t know what he can make me do. I don’t know if I can fight it.” Her voice cracked, and Fuma’s heart nearly broke in his chest. He didn’t hesitate.

He reached out, gently but firmly, and pulled her into his arms. “Listen to me,” he murmured against her temple, voice low and steady, a promise wrapped in warmth. His arms closed around her, holding her as if the world might try to tear her away. “No matter what he tries, I won’t let him take you. Not unless you want to go.” His embrace tightened, protective and impossibly gentle at the same time. “But if you say you don’t want him, if you even whisper it, I’ll stand between you and him until my last breath. I swear it.”

(Y/n)’s fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt, knuckles turning white. She pressed her face into his chest, trying to hide the tears she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her breaths hitched, soft and shaky, but she didn’t pull away. Fuma wrapped himself around her a little more, one hand resting at the back of her head, the other around her waist, as if shielding her from everything, even the memories she couldn’t yet escape.

And despite all the fear twisting in her stomach, despite the storm she knew was coming… For the first time in years, she felt safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his warmth. Safe in the steady heartbeat against her ear that grounded her more than any spell ever could. Right there, held tightly in Fuma’s embrace, (Y/n) felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: Hope.

(Y/n) fell asleep in his arms after sitting there for some time. Fuma carried her to EJ and Sora's cabin, making sure she was tucked in tightly in bed, before reluctantly returning to his room in the main house. They didn't know how soon Heeseung would arrive, but whenever he came, they would fight, because Fuma would have to die before allowing him to touch (Y/n) ever again. To even breathe the same air as her. Morning soon came, everyone gathered in the dining room, Taki joked that they had to get a bigger table soon, with everyone finding their mates and all, Jake was there too, laughing at the joke.

Jay’s call came in so suddenly that EJ didn’t even have time to brace himself. He answered on instinct, and Jay’s voice hit like a punch. Tight. Urgent. And terrified. “He’s here,” Jay said. “Heeseung. And he isn’t alone.” EJ’s stomach dropped. Jay exhaled shakily before continuing. “Unless you want Lila hurt… you need to bring (Y/n) to Koyomi.” For a beat, no one breathed. Miyu gasped, hand flying to her mouth. Maki’s growl tore through the room, sharp and feral. Lila, a sweet, human girl who knew nothing about supernatural politics, had somehow gotten tangled in the middle of this. She didn’t deserve this. None of this.

EJ closed his eyes, jaw tight, and forced himself to speak even though every instinct screamed against it. “We’ll be there soon.” The moment he hung up, the room erupted. Fuma surged to his feet so fast the chair scraped loudly across the floor. His eyes glowed that molten orange-red mix, fury radiating off him in waves. “How could you say that?!” he snapped, voice shaking. “We are not handing her over!” EJ held up a hand, his own red alpha eyes blazing in warning. “Calm down,” “No!” Fuma snarled. “He’ll take her, you know he will!” “Fuma!” EJ said firmly, stepping closer, “we’re not giving her up. We’re not sacrificing anyone. But we cannot let him hurt Lila. Jay called for help, he’s outnumbered. We’re going, but we’re going prepared.”

Fuma’s chest heaved, breath unsteady as he struggled to rein in the rage. He didn’t care about Heeseung’s threats. He didn’t care about Sunghoon. All he cared about was (Y/n). Losing her was not an option. Behind him, trembling softly, (Y/n) whispered: “F-Fuma…?”Her voice cracked, fear woven through every syllable. And that one quiet call shattered every piece of anger inside him, leaving only instinct. He turned instantly, moving to her side so fast it almost wasn’t human.

Before she could even reach for him, he took her hand, gently, carefully, letting her know exactly where he was. She threw her arms around him, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a world collapsing beneath her feet. He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, pulling her into his chest. He inhaled her scent, grounding himself, letting that one breath bleed the fury out of him just enough to think straight. “I’m right here,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not now. Not ever.” (Y/n)’s trembling eased, only slightly, but enough.

EJ looked at them, then at the rest of the pack, his voice firm: “We go together. We protect everyone, Jay, Lila… and especially (Y/n). No one goes alone. No one dies tonight.” The pack nodded. War was coming. And they would meet it head-on.

~~~

Lila had never been this scared in her life. One moment, she was unlocking the doors like any other morning, and the next, a hand clamped over her mouth, another over her eyes, and she was yanked inside before she even had time to scream. Now she sat tied to a chair in the back room, wrists bound, ankles tight against the legs of the seat. Tears streamed down her face, soaking into the collar of her shirt. Her breaths were sharp, rapid, the kind that made her chest ache. Behind her, the man who grabbed her kept one hand on the ropes and the other pressed a cold, unfamiliar blade against her neck. Not a kitchen knife. Something older. Sharper. Lila whimpered, trying not to move.

Across the room, Jay was shouting, angrier than she had ever heard him, voice ragged with desperation. “The human has NOTHING to do with this!” he yelled. “She’s not part of your world, Heeseung!” World? What world? Lila blinked through fresh tears, trying to make sense of the words echoing in her head. Human. As if… they weren’t? Her shaking eyes lifted, and that’s when she saw him. The other man. The one Jay was arguing with. Tall, unnervingly still, expression carved from stone. And his eyes, they weren’t normal. They weren’t even close. A deep, unnatural red glowed beneath the dim lights of the restaurant. Too bright. Too dead. Too wrong.

Lila’s blood ran cold. “That girl,” Heeseung said, voice smooth like glass and just as cutting, “was taken from me. I will have her returned.” “You don’t own her,” Jay spat. Heeseung tilted his head slightly, not offended, not angry, almost amused. “Don’t I?” Lila’s stomach twisted. She didn’t understand any of this. Who was this man? Why were his eyes like that? What did he mean by ‘taken’? What did he want? Why was Jay talking about worlds? Her breath hitched painfully. Jay took a step forward, only for the blade behind her neck to press harder. She cried out. “MOVE AGAIN AND I SLICE HER,” Sunghoon, the man holding her, hissed. Jay froze instantly.

“Let her go, Sunghoon,” Jay said, voice low, trembling with fury. “This isn’t between you and her.” Sunghoon’s smirk sharpened. “It is now. The wolves always claimed to protect their little humans, right? Let’s see how well they protect this one.” Lila choked on a sob. Jay’s expression broke, terrified, helpless. But then Heeseung spoke again, lazy, confident, already certain of victory. “Bring me (Y/n), Jay. Bring her to me.” His eyes glowed brighter. “Or the human dies.”

~~~

They didn’t want to do it. Every wolf in the pack hated the idea of stepping into Heeseung’s reach, of putting (Y/n) anywhere near the vampire who had controlled her, hurt her, stolen pieces of her mind and heart. But Lila’s life was on the line. And they didn’t sacrifice innocents. Not ever. So they brought (Y/n) with them to Koyomi. It felt wrong. Dangerous. Every instinct in their bodies screamed against it, especially Fuma’s, whose wolf clawed at his ribs the entire drive.

(Y/n) held onto him desperately, fingers fisting into his jacket, her breath trembling against his shoulder. He kept one arm wrapped firmly around her, the other resting protectively over her hand. As the car slowed in front of the darkened restaurant, Fuma leaned in, voice low, warm, and fierce. “I made you a promise,” he whispered. “I will not let him take you. Not while I breathe.” (Y/n) swallowed hard, nodding even though she still couldn’t see him. His voice, his scent, that was enough.

Soon, EJ’s car rolled in beside them. Then Kei’s. Then two more behind those. Sixteen people total. The whole pack. Even Jake, standing at Rocky’s side, worry flickering behind his eyes. They stepped out into the cold night air, breath fogging, hearts pounding. EJ looked over them, eyes glowing a deep, steady red. He spoke through a growl. “Whatever waits inside, we stick to the plan. Harua, Taki, Maki, Jo, protect our mates. That includes (Y/n).” The four youngest straightened instantly. Harua inhaled sharply but nodded. Taki swallowed his fear and stepped closer to Jo. Maki rolled his shoulders back, tension twitching under his skin. Jo tightened his jaw, one hand finding Sana’s. Then EJ turned to Yuma.

“Yuma,” he said softly, seriously, “this time… we’re going to need you to fight. Can you do that?” Yuma’s eyes flickered, golden, then brighter. Fear trembled under his skin… but determination settled over it. He glanced at Miyu, whose hand found his. Her small squeeze steadied him. “I’ll do my best,” he answered. The pack nodded, proud, grateful. Then they moved. The younger wolves shifted subtly into a loose shield around the women, Aya, Sora, Rocky, Miyu, Sana, and (Y/n). Not touching, not crowding, but present, solid, a living barrier.

Nicholas and Kei flanked EJ. Yuma and Fuma stood closest to (Y/n). Jake lingered by the door, listening. Sixteen hearts. Sixteen lungs. Sixteen bodies ready to fight a monster. EJ exhaled once, steadying himself. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go get Lila.” And with that, they pushed open the door to Koyomi. The moment the pack stepped inside, the entire restaurant seemed to inhale. Silence. Cold. Tension so thick it almost hummed.

Then, clap… clap… clap… Slow. Mocking. Dripping poison. Heeseung stood in the center of the café, hands coming together in an exaggerated applause, his smile stretched too wide to be human. “Well,” he purred, “welcome.” Every wolf bristled. Every vampire tensed. Every heartbeat sharpened into a weapon. Fuma didn’t speak. He growled. Deep and feral, a sound born from instincts older than words. It vibrated through the tables, rattled the glasses behind the counter, and sent dust drifting from the ceiling.

Heeseung’s eyes flashed, momentarily surprised. Powerful. More powerful than he had expected. But not enough to worry him. Not yet. EJ stepped forward, voice low and firm enough to shake the floorboards. “Where are Lila and Jay?” Heeseung didn’t answer. He chuckled, a dark, cold sound that sliced through the air like a blade. “You’ll see them soon enough,” he said lazily, waving his hand as if bored. EJ’s lips peeled back in a snarl. “Where?” he demanded again, louder this time, teeth visible, his power rising like a storm. Heeseung tilted his head, pretending to think. “My, my. Feisty doggy,” he mocked.

Sora hissed. Nicholas growled. Kei shifted his stance, ready to fight. Heeseung sighed dramatically, as if inconvenienced. “Fine,” he said, raising his voice just slightly. “Bring them out.” A moment later, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Sunghoon emerged first. One hand gripping Jay’s shirt, shoving him forward with effortless ease, the kind that made the wolves growl again. And in his other hand? He carried Lila. Still tied to the chair. Lifted as if she weighed nothing. Her eyes were wide with terror, cheeks wet with tears. When she saw the pack, a sob broke free, equal parts relief and fear.

Sunghoon’s lips curled into a cold, delighted smile. “Miss us?” he asked cruelly. EJ’s eyes blazed red. Kei and Nicholas took a step forward in unison. Fuma’s entire body trembled with the effort not to tear Sunghoon apart where he stood. (Y/n), grasping blindly for Fuma, flinched when she heard Lila’s cry, guilt, fear, and panic ripping through her. Maki whispered under his breath, “They’re gonna pay for this…” Sunghoon pushed Jay again, harder this time.

Heeseung spread his arms, smiling at the pack like a host presenting a feast. “Well then,” he said softly. “Shall we begin?” Heeseung didn’t need a clear view of (Y/n). He could feel her. Even hidden behind wolves and witches and humans, surrounded by bodies shielding her like a fortress, her presence tugged at him like a thread wrapped around his ribs. His eyes slid lazily over the pack, searching, sensing, savoring the tension. Then he found Rocky. “Hello,” Heeseung said with a cold, polite tone that made Rocky’s blood freeze. “We meet again.” Rocky flinched violently. Before Heeseung could take a single step toward her, Maki and Taki were in front of her, two young wolves, yet absolutely ready to die for her. Nicholas didn’t just growl. He roared. His claws extended, fangs flashing, muscles pulled tight like a bow ready to snap. Jake grabbed his arm to keep him from launching forward uncontrolled. “No one touches my mate,” Nicholas snarled, voice shaking with fury.

EJ stepped forward, positioning himself at the center of the room, between his pack and the threat, Alpha instincts burning red in his eyes. “Heeseung,” EJ growled, “your business is with me. I’m the alpha here.” Heeseung tilted his head, unimpressed. “Are you?” he said lightly. “I must say… not much of one. But if it makes you feel important…” He waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. I’ll negotiate with you.” Sora hissed at the insult, but EJ held up a hand, eyes locked on the vampire. Heeseung’s smirk sharpened. “One human for another,” he said smoothly. “Return what is mine, and you can have yours back.” (Y/n) trembled.

Fuma wanted to scream. To shift. To tear Heeseung limb from limb and rip apart anyone who dared call (Y/n) his property. His claws slid out, digging into his palms. His wolf thrashed under his skin, howling. MATE. MINE. PROTECT. But Fuma stayed silent. If he snapped now, if he lunged, Heeseung would kill Lila. Or (Y/n). Or Sora. Or Rocky. Or any of the humans or wolves in front of him. So he swallowed the rage burning a hole in his chest.

Jay’s voice cut through the charged air like a blade. He kept close to Lila, shielding her with his own body, but his eyes were locked on Heeseung. “Why?” Jay demanded. “Why are you so hell-bent on dragging her back when she isn’t even your mate?” Heeseung rolled his eyes with exaggerated boredom. But then, they darkened. Red bled into black, creeping like ink through water, turning his irises into pits of pure hunger. He turned his head, slowly, deliberately, toward (Y/n), still surrounded by wolves and Sora’s protective grip. “(Y/n),” he called smoothly, “are you my mate?” And before anyone could stop her, “Yes.”

The single word slipped out of her mouth, hollow and lifeless, as if pulled from the deepest corner of her mind. Her voice wasn’t her own, stripped of warmth, of fear, of personality. The pack froze. Sora’s eyes widened in horror. Kei cursed under his breath. Rocky clutched Nicholas’s sleeve. EJ’s claws dug into his palms. Fuma went still. Absolutely still. Heeseung’s lips curled into a victorious smirk. “Good girl,” he murmured, then asked, “and do you love me?” “Yes,” she breathed. Another step forward. Sora tried to hold her back, but couldn’t be forceful with her, couldn’t risk hurting her. She tightened her grip softly, voice trembling.

“(Y/n)… sweetheart, stop. Don’t move.” But (Y/n) kept walking, eyes glassy, movements mechanical. Fuma’s breath hitched. Something inside his chest cracked, loudly. His mate. His soulmate. His other half. Declaring love for someone else. Even knowing it wasn’t truly her, even knowing her mind was twisted and fogged and shackled, it still broke him. He shook, violently, fighting the urge to tear the world apart just to free her voice from Heeseung’s control. Jay tried again, voice sharp, desperate. “Heeseung! Why her? You and I both know she isn’t your mate. Why her?” The vampire turned. Slowly. Calmly. With the look of a predator annoyed by a buzzing insect.

His glare sliced straight through Jay. “Why her?” Heeseung repeated with a scoff. Then he stepped closer, shadows stretching behind him like claws. “If you had tasted her blood, Jay, even once, you would know.” Lila whimpered behind Jay. Rocky flinched. Nicholas snarled. Fuma stopped breathing. Heeseung’s smile widened grotesquely. “Her blood is special. Sweeter. Stronger. Addictive.” His eyes glowed violently red-black. “I don’t intend to go another day without it.” And that was the moment Fuma almost lost control. His bones quivered.

His wolf howled, pacing beneath his skin, demanding release, demanding blood, demanding Heeseung’s throat. He wasn’t reacting to jealousy. He was reacting to the truth, Heeseung didn’t want (Y/n). He wanted to consume her. To drain her dry. To keep her as livestock. As a vessel. As property. Fuma’s vision tinted gold and red as his control frayed, claws threatening to rip through his fingers, Sora hissed a warning. Kei tensed. EJ subtly stepped toward him, ready to restrain him if needed. But Fuma didn’t move. Not because he wasn’t furious, but because (Y/n) needed him steady. She needed him alive. And Heeseung had just given every wolf in that room something far more dangerous than rage: A reason to kill him.

No one expected Kei to be the one to snap. Not calm, steady, gentle Kei. But the second Heeseung spoke about (Y/n) like she was a food source, something inside Kei, something ancient, buried under years of discipline, broke. Before anyone registered movement, Kei was already across the room. And his fist connected with Heeseung’s jaw with a sickening crack. The vampire’s head snapped to the side. His body rocked back three full steps. Pure shock flashed across his features. He had not seen that coming. But Kei had.

For a heartbeat, all Kei saw was black. His parents’ blood. The ruins of his first pack. The long, lonely years wandering with no one at his side. Then, finding the others, one by one, rebuilding what was taken from him. All destroyed originally because of vampires like Heeseung. Because they got too greedy. Too cruel. Too drunk on power. A growl ripped out of Kei, deeper than any of them had ever heard from him, and the room exploded into motion.

Sunghoon sprang forward instantly, eyes darting to Jay for a split-second. Jay braced himself, shielding Lila with his whole body. Sunghoon considered attacking him, truly considered it, but then he saw the wolves rushing in, golden eyes blazing, claws fully out. He pivoted. Straight toward them. And chaos erupted. Wolves lunged. Vampires blurred. Furniture shattered. The fight was vicious, immediate, overwhelming. Even with the entire pack joining in, it quickly became clear the vampires were stronger, impossibly fast, unnervingly durable.

Sora, Rocky, and Jake pulled the humans behind them, Aya, Sana, Miyu, and (Y/n), forming a protective barrier. Heeseung backhanded Harua with enough force to send the young wolf flying across the room, smashing into a wall so hard the plaster cracked. “Harua!” Jo yelled, but before he could reach his brother, Sunghoon grabbed Jo by the collar and flung him aside like he weighed nothing. Taki tried to transform, pain contorting his face, but nothing happened. Again. And the disappointment in his eyes was heartbreaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, stumbling back as Sunghoon approached with a predatory grin.

Heeseung ducked another blow from EJ, snarling. He was growing frustrated. Hungry. Greedy. He wanted (Y/n). He wanted her now. “Where is she?” he hissed, scanning for her. Nicholas cut him off, slashing across his chest with his claws, leaving deep marks that oozed thick, dark blood. On the other side of the room, Maki and Yuma launched an attack together, pure instinct and brotherly rhythm. Yuma grabbed Sunghoon by the arm while Maki slashed across his cheek, drawing blood. Sunghoon froze, hand flying to his face in disbelief. He had been marked. By pups. “You’re dead,” he snarled. He launched at them, fast, too fast, but Kei slammed into him mid-sprint, saving the younger wolves by centimeters.

EJ, Fuma, Kei, and Nicholas were the ones holding the line. They moved with impossible coordination, training kicking in, instincts aligning, reading each other’s movements without even needing a mindlink. EJ and Fuma took Heeseung. Kei and Nicholas cut Sunghoon off again and again. It wasn’t enough to win. But it was enough to survive. And somewhere behind them, (Y/n) trembled violently, gripping the edge of a counter, feeling Fuma’s emotions rippling through the chaos like sparks.

He was fighting. He was hurting. And he was doing it for her. But Heeseung was getting closer. Step by step. Slash by slash. He was coming straight for her. The fight raged on, relentless and brutal. Even with only two vampires against them, the wolves struggled, all nine of them pushing their limits, bruises forming, bones aching, lungs heaving.

They weren’t trained for this. Not for vampires. Not for monsters like these two. Sunghoon was deadly, fast, precise, cruel. But Heeseung… Heeseung was something else entirely. He moved like a shadow. A blur. A nightmare given form. He slipped into the darkness between the hanging lights, disappearing completely, “ROCKY!” Sora shouted. “I SEE HIM!” Rocky yelled back. Her eyes flashed violet, and she thrust her palm forward. A wave of shimmering force slammed into the shadows, ripping Heeseung out of them and hurling him across the room. He landed in a crouch, snarling, eyes glowing a murderous black-red. “I’m going to kill you,” Heeseung hissed. Nicholas let out a feral snarl. “Over my dead body.” He lunged, claws out, rage fueling every movement, catching Heeseung off-guard. The distraction was all he needed.

Nicholas’ claws tore into Heeseung’s side, ripping open a long, deep wound. Dark vampire blood splattered across the floor. The pack surged with hope. Until (Y/n) screamed. A sharp, gut-wrenching cry. Everyone froze. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her side, the exact same spot Nicholas had struck Heeseung, her face twisted in agony. “(Y/N)!” Fuma raced toward her, sliding on his knees beside her, panic exploding through him. “No, no, please, sweetheart, breathe.” Her fingers trembled, gripping his wrist blindly, but her vision still refused to show him.

Across the room, Heeseung laughed. A cold, triumphant sound. “Did you really,” he drawled, “think I’d go down that easily?” His wound was already closing. And (Y/n)’s wasn’t. Rocky’s breath hitched. “It’s a sympathetic bind,” she whispered, horrified. “He tied her life to his. If he dies,” “She dies,” Jake finished grimly. Fuma’s world tilted. There was no way to win. Not like this. Heeseung stepped forward, wiping blood from his mouth. “Come now,” he purred. “Stop fighting. Give her back, and this all ends.” Fuma’s vision blurred red. His mate was in pain because of that monster, and he could do nothing but hold her as she struggled to breathe. He cupped her face, voice breaking. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I won’t let him take you. I swear it.”

But as Heeseung approached, smiling like victory was already his, Fuma realized something terrifying. They couldn’t kill Heeseung. They couldn’t overpower him. They couldn’t win this fight. Not unless they broke the spell. Not unless they awakened the bond. Not unless (Y/n) chose him instead. And right now? She didn’t even know what he looked like.

Rocky’s pulse hammered in her ears. She was exhausted, completely depleted from the vision, the backlash, the healing, the fear, but she couldn’t stand there and watch (Y/n) collapse in agony while Heeseung walked toward her like he already owned her. She refused. Rocky lifted her hands, though they trembled, her fingers twitching with the strain. Jake grabbed her arm. “Rocky, you can’t,” he whispered urgently. “You’re drained. One more heavy spell and,” “I know,” she breathed, voice shaking. “But I can’t do nothing.”

She remembered the book she’d read late last night, the chapter about separation spells. Complicated. Volatile. Nearly impossible without full strength. If she attempted one now… she might not survive the backlash. So she didn’t. She chose something else. A spell she should have thought of earlier, simpler, but still dangerous in her state. A spell meant to clear actual fog. It was created by witches who used to sail the sea, a way to navigate more easily. A final push. Rocky inhaled sharply, then whispered: “Via aperta… visum verum… let her see.” Her eyes flared violet.

A spark of golden-violet magic swirled from her fingertips and shot across the room, weaving around wolves, dodging splintered furniture, slipping past Heeseung’s outstretched hand. It struck (Y/n) in the center of her forehead. She gasped. Her eyes fluttered open wide, and for the first time, the fog pulled back. Only for a moment. But in that moment? Her gaze landed directly on the man kneeling in front of her. On Fuma. His amber-orange eyes blown wide with fear. His hair messy from battle. His chest heaving. His hand cupped around her cheek. Her breath broke. “Fuma…?” His name escaped her lips like a prayer.

A sob followed, choked, desperate, full of longing. He leaned closer, voice cracking, “I’m right here, (Y/n). I’m here,” And then, he vanished. Not physically. Only from her sight. The fog slammed back into place like a door slamming shut, violently. (Y/n) cried out in frustration, reaching blindly for him again. “No, no, please, I saw you, I saw you!” Fuma caught her hand, holding it tight, his heart shattering at her panic. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Across the room, Heeseung staggered. Actually staggered. His hand gripped his side, eyes going wide in shock and fury. The spell had worked. Not fully, not enough to break the bond. But enough to damage it. Enough to hurt him. Enough to weaken his hold. Rocky collapsed to her knees, breathing hard, vision swimming. Jake caught her before she hit the floor. Heeseung snarled, voice shaking with rage. “What did you do?!” Rocky managed a weak, bloody smile. “Gave her… a clearer view,” she whispered. EJ’s eyes snapped toward her. Nicholas moved in front of her again, protective fury rekindling.

Heeseung’s lip curled, black leaking into his eyes again. The spell had done something, something powerful, something that broke through the fog and struck the vampire right at the source. But they didn’t yet know what it meant. Or how much time they had before Heeseung attacked again. And Fuma… Fuma stared at the spot where her eyes had met his, at the tears still clinging to her lashes. She had seen him. For the first time. And he’d be damned before he let that be the last.

(Y/n)’s body went slack. Her eyes rolled shut. The moment the fog snapped back over her sight, her mind shut down entirely, and she collapsed into Fuma’s arms. “(Y/n)!” he choked. At the same moment, Rocky swayed, her breaths thin and shallow. “Th–this is your… your chance,” she gasped, voice barely audible. “The spell, it… severed something… she won’t feel… your hits,” And then she, too, dropped. Jake caught her mid-fall, lowering her gently. Harua, Taki, and Jo rushed forward, forming a tight protective circle around the unconscious girls. Sora slid to (Y/n)’s side, hands glowing faint gold as she tried to soothe whatever pain lingered in the human’s body. “Stay with me,” Sora whispered, voice trembling. Yuma stumbled over next, limping, blood on his lip and sleeve, clearly hurt, but still conscious. He threw himself beside the others, growling low, ready to defend them. The younger wolves shielded the girls. The protectors protecting those who needed them most.

Meanwhile, Maki, Fuma, Kei, EJ, and Nicholas rose to their feet. The room trembled. Five wolves. Two vampires. And every surviving instinct in their bodies sharpened into a final standoff. Heeseung wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes burning with fury. Sunghoon cracked his neck, annoyed and amused all at once. “It’s been a while,” Sunghoon drawled, “since anyone made us bleed.” He and Heeseung stood shoulder to shoulder now, the strongest united.

Fuma’s growl shook the floorboards. Maki stepped up beside him, amber-eyed and furious. Kei cracked his knuckles, the calmest of them and somehow the most dangerous. EJ and Nicholas positioned themselves opposite Sunghoon, claws extended, eyes blazing. Then, Sunghoon’s gaze slid lazily toward Sora behind the younger wolves. His smirk twisted into something cruel. “You know, EJ…” he taunted, voice dripping venom, “you should have killed me when you had the chance.” EJ’s jaw tightened. Sunghoon stepped forward, sneering. “And I should have killed Sora when I had the chance. That little traitor never deserved her life in the first place.”

Sora froze. Nicholas snarled. Kei’s breath caught. Jake’s fur bristled. But EJ? EJ saw red. His whole body trembled, rage exploding through him like wildfire. A vicious growl tore from his chest, loud, raw, violent. “You,” EJ hissed, stepping forward, “will never touch her again.” Sunghoon laughed. “Oh, but I will,” “No,” EJ growled, voice deepening as his eyes glowed brighter, shifting hue, becoming something far older, far more primal than simple anger. “You won’t.” Sunghoon felt fear like he never had before. Not from claws. Not from fangs. Not from death. But from the words that fell from EJ’s mouth: “If you dare threaten my mate and my family… then perhaps I should bare my fangs at your mate.” A ripple of shock tore through the room.

Sunghoon’s mask cracked, just for a heartbeat. His eyes flickered. Toward Jay. It lasted less than a millisecond. But every wolf noticed. Every vampire noticed. Even Heeseung froze, shock slicing through his expression. Jay felt it. Like a cold hand wrapping around his spine. He understood that look, he had seen it in others, had once felt it for someone else. But he had never expected… Sunghoon?

Memories snapped together in Jay’s mind: The possessiveness. The hatred mixed with something softer. The conflicting moods. The strange tension. The way Sunghoon always looked at him too long, then looked away too fast. It all made sense now. The room seemed to tilt. Jay whispered, “No… no, that can’t,” But it could. Because he had been mated before. He had loved before. And he had lost before. That pain was his. But Sunghoon, Sunghoon had found his mate a century ago. And lived with the crushing truth ever since: Jay was Sunghoon’s mate. But Sunghoon was not Jay’s. Never had been.

Never would be. A one-sided bond. A curse. Sunghoon’s breath hitched. His smirk fell away entirely. He took a step back, one slow, pained step. His fingers trembled at his sides. “I… didn’t want you to find out like this,” he said, voice cracking for the first time anyone had ever heard. “I never wanted you to know. I knew we could never be anything more than… friends.” He laughed, a broken, fragile sound. “But instincts…” His voice dropped, raw. “…instincts drive you insane. You know that, Jay. I know you do.”

A hundred years of pain sat in his eyes. A century of hiding. Of pretending. Of loving someone he could never have. Jay opened his mouth, something halfway between sympathy and shock on his face. But before a single word came out, Sunghoon ran. One blur of motion. Straight out the shattered restaurant door. Gone with the wind. No one followed. No one even knew if he’d ever return. And behind the silence he left behind, the battle’s stakes shifted.

Heeseung, now truly alone, stumbled back from a blow that sent splintered wood and glass skittering across the floor. His wounds weren’t healing fast enough. Panic flickered in his darkening eyes, not rage, not hunger, but the first taste of real fear. Jay stepped forward at last. No more holding back. No more second-guessing. Sunghoon was gone. The threat to Lila was fading. And the pack needed him. He dropped into a fighting stance beside EJ and Kei, glaring at Heeseung with a fury even the wolves hadn’t seen before.

Lila, still tied to the chair, trembled violently. She didn’t understand the glowing eyes, the shifting forms, the fangs, any of it. Her terror bled into the air like a sharp scent. Jake picked it up immediately. He broke from his guard around the unconscious mates, moving to her side with soft, careful steps. He crouched beside her, offering gentle words, grounding breaths, a protective presence between her and the chaos. “You’re safe,” he murmured, voice steady. “We won’t let anything happen to you.” She didn’t fully believe it, but she clung to the sound of his voice anyway.

The wolves, now fully unleashed, surrounded Heeseung. Maki struck first, swift, brutal, fueled by the pain everyone had gone through because of Heeseung. EJ was calculated, strong, every punch deliberate. Nicholas moved like a storm, rage sharpened into precision. Kei was silent, deadly, years of old trauma blazing through his eyes. And Fuma… Fuma fought like a man with everything to lose. Every swipe of his claws was for (Y/n). Every punch was for the years she had been controlled. Every growl was for the mate bond Heeseung tried to corrupt. They drove Heeseung back, hit after hit. He tried to counter, landing a few blows, enough to scratch, enough to bruise—but nothing more.

His movements slowed. His stance faltered. Fear crept into his expression as he realized: He was losing. Heeseung swung wildly, desperate, trying to shadow-step, but the spell Rocky cast earlier flickered across his body like static, disrupting him. He blinked forward a few feet, off-balance, only to be slammed into a table by Kei. Maki’s claws tore across his arm. Nicholas drove a punch into his ribs. Jay kicked him across the floor. Fuma pounced before he could rise, claws pressed to the vampire’s throat.

Heeseung choked on his own breath, trembling. The wolves towered over him, united, furious, unmovable. For the first time since the fight began, Heeseung understood: He wasn’t getting out of this undefeated. He wasn’t getting (Y/n) back. He wasn’t winning. Not this time. Not against them. Not against her mate. Fuma stalked toward Heeseung like a beast barely restrained. His eyes, usually warm, usually steady, had gone fully crimson, glowing with a lethal, ancient fury. His voice rumbled through the room like thunder. “Release her from the spell.”

Heeseung opened his mouth, defiant even now.

“N-” He never finished. Fuma pressed down, claws digging into the vampire’s throat, cutting off breath, sound, everything. Heeseung clawed at Fuma’s wrist, eyes widening as panic flooded him. For a moment, he actually believed this was where he’d die, beneath the claws of the wolf whose mate he had taken. Fuma leaned closer, his voice a low, feral snarl. “Release. Her.” The pressure increased. Bones creaked. Heeseung gasped silently, vision blurring. His pride faltered. His arrogance shattered. Survival instincts kicked in with vicious clarity. He gave up. He had to.

With a shaking breath, Fuma eased his grip just enough for him to speak, but not enough for him to move. Heeseung’s eyes locked on (Y/n), still unconscious on the ground, Sora’s hands glowing faintly as she tried to keep her stable. Hunger and obsession flickered in the vampire’s gaze, but this time, for the first time, he knew he could not take her. Would not survive trying. His eyes bled black, shadows curling at the edges of his irises as he summoned the spell that had chained her mind for years. “I…” A tremor. He swallowed hard. “I release you.”

A soft, rippling glow appeared around (Y/n), like silver mist rising from her skin. It swirled, lifted, then sank down into the shadows beneath her, disappearing as if swallowed by the earth. The room held its breath. Then Heeseung exhaled, defeated. “It is done.” No one moved. Not until Fuma did. He seized Heeseung by the collar and threw him with a roar, the vampire’s body slamming into the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster. He crumpled, dazed, weakened, and no longer a threat.

The pack didn’t look at him. Their attention was on Fuma. He stood there, chest heaving, eyes shifting slowly, painfully, from blood-red back to their unique, molten golden-orange. He turned toward (Y/n), who still lay trembling in Sora’s arms. He took one step. Then another. The fury melted from his face, replaced with something raw, terrified, and heart-shatteringly gentle. His voice, hoarse and broken, trembled out her name. “(Y/n)…?”

Jay stepped toward Heeseung with a grim calm that didn’t match the adrenaline still thundering through the room. His expression was tight, jaw clenched, but his voice was steady. “Why?” Jay’s eyes flicked to (Y/n), to the girl who had nearly lost everything. “To her. To us. Why did you do all of this?” Heeseung sat slumped against the wall, blood running down his jawline, staining his shirt, dripping onto the floor in slow, steady drops. He was exhausted, defeated… but not repentant.

He laughed. A dry, bitter, mocking sound that echoed off the walls. “Why?” He shrugged, as if the whole thing were trivial. “Because I could, I guess.” Fuma’s growl cut through the room like a blade, low, murderous, shaking the air. He held (Y/n) against his chest, his body curled protectively around her unconscious form, golden-orange eyes fixed on Heeseung with nothing but hatred. But Heeseung continued anyway, lifting his head with bloody arrogance. “I’ve been alive for five hundred years.” He tapped a crimson-stained finger against his temple. “Five centuries of doing whatever I damn well pleased. And for the record?”

Another breathless, sarcastic chuckle. “Brainwashing people is incredibly convenient. Humans, vampires, witches, doesn’t matter. Everyone breaks eventually.” Jo snarled. Kei stepped forward. Nicholas’ claws twitched like he was fighting himself not to pounce. But Heeseung wasn’t finished. He let his head fall back against the cracked wall behind him, eyes drifting over the pack with a mix of disgust and resignation. “Then I met you idiots.” His voice dripped sarcasm. “Nine stubborn wolves. Nine annoyingly loyal, loud, irritating wolves.” He breathed out sharply, a mixture of pain and disbelief. “I tried using my power on you, all of you, just now. Tried to snap your minds like twigs.”

He gestured weakly with his hand. “But nothing. Not even a flicker. So either…” His eyes slid back to them, narrowing. “…either the moon blessed you with a shield,” Fuma stiffened. “or I finally met my match,” Heeseung smirked bitterly. “Met someone I can’t overpower. Can’t control. Can’t compete with.” His gaze briefly flicked toward (Y/n), a glimpse of what almost looked like frustration, but never remorse. “Enjoy your victory,” he murmured, wiping a streak of blood from his lip.

All eyes had turned to (Y/n), who was beginning to stir in Fuma’s arms. Yet it was Rocky that twitched first. A soft gasp left her lips as her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, confused, then horrified by the destruction around her. Tables shattered. Glass everywhere. Walls cracked from the force of bodies thrown into them. Koyomi, the place Miyu and Jay had poured their hearts into, looked like a battlefield. Miyu’s breath hitched at the sight. Jay clenched his fists. Rocky’s stomach twisted with guilt.

Nicholas was beside her in an instant, dropping to his knees, slipping an arm behind her back to help her sit up slowly. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice shaking with fear he didn’t bother hiding. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Rocky winced, bringing a hand to her temple. Her fingers came away faintly stained with blood. “I, did it work…?” Before Nicholas could answer, a slow, cruel chuckle cut through the air.

Heeseung. Still slumped against the wall, still bleeding, but wearing a smile that made everyone bristle. “Well, well,” he drawled, tilting his head. “The little half-witch, half-oracle wakes up.” Rocky froze. Nicholas growled, stepping instinctively closer to her, shielding her with his body. Heeseung continued, amusement dripping from every word: “You know that combination will kill you, right? I could sense it when you were poking around in (Y/n)’s mind.” He smirked. “I bet you woke up bleeding. Everywhere.” Rocky’s expression tightened, but not in denial.

Nicholas’ heartbeat stuttered. He felt it. He’d felt it ever since the oracle readings started, the weakening aura, the exhaustion no healing could fully touch. But hearing it confirmed broke something in him. He snarled, low and feral. Heeseung only looked more entertained. “Oh, don’t act surprised, wolfie.” He nodded toward Rocky. “Can’t you feel it? She’s dying.” Nicholas’ entire body went rigid. His breathing stopped. His claws slid out involuntarily. He turned his head slowly, as if afraid to look, but he already knew.

Her heartbeat was weaker. Her warmth was fading. Her scent… thin. Rocky, ever stubborn, tried to sit straighter. “Don’t listen to him…” But Nicholas shook his head, voice cracking. “Rocky… why didn’t you tell me?” Her lip trembled. “I didn’t want you to worry.” Heeseung snorted. “Touching.” EJ stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at, Heeseung?” Heeseung’s smirk sharpened. “I know how to stop it.”

Silence cracked across the room like thunder. Every wolf stiffened. Jake bared his teeth. Sora hissed. Nicholas’ grip on Rocky tightened, desperation flooding him. Heeseung lifted his chin, eyes gleaming with dark triumph. “I’ll tell you how to save her,” He paused, letting the tension strangle the room. “if you let me leave. Alive.” Growls erupted from every direction. Jo took a step forward. Kei bristled. Maki looked ready to tear him apart. But Nicholas… Nicholas looked broken. He searched EJ’s eyes, silently begging for permission, or for someone to tell him what to do. EJ exhaled shakily, then turned his gaze to the only wolf whose voice mattered in this moment.

Fuma. Because this wasn’t just a matter of justice anymore. This was about life. About mates. About choosing who to save. Fuma’s jaw clenched. His hands shook with rage. He wanted to tear Heeseung limb from limb, after everything he did to (Y/n), after the pain, the fear, the control. He wanted him dead. But then he looked at Rocky, pale, trembling, leaning against Nicholas like her strength was draining by the second. He looked at Nicholas, eyes filled with a terror no alpha could ignore.

And finally, he looked at (Y/n), unconscious but breathing easier now, freed at last. Fuma inhaled deeply, pain crushing him from both sides. Heeseung watched him with a knowing smile. Everyone waited. And Fuma gave his answer. “…Let him leave.” No one breathed. Not even Heeseung. Heeseung dragged himself upright, one hand pressed to the wounded side Fuma and Kei had carved into him. His steps were uneven, limping, but there was still arrogance in the tilt of his chin, the way he dared to turn his back on nine wolves ready to end him on the spot.

Every pair of eyes followed him, bodies coiled, ready to strike if he so much as twitched in the wrong direction. He reached the broken front doors… Paused… And then looked over his shoulder. His gaze found Nicholas first, then drifted to Rocky, pale, weak, holding onto consciousness only because Nicholas was holding onto her. Heeseung spoke carefully, almost conversationally. “The answer is simple, wolf.” Nicholas stiffened. Heeseung’s lips curled faintly. “Bite her.”

A ripple of shock went through the pack. Rocky blinked. Nicholas froze. Heeseung went on, savoring every word. “It’s an ancient rite. Not something wolves bother with anymore… but in the old days, your kind would bite your mate to seal the bond completely. A bite made with love, intention, devotion. A bite that binds souls.” Nicholas swallowed hard, understanding slowly dawning. Heeseung nodded. “Do that… and her oracle side will be shut out. It cannot coexist with a full, true mate bond. The magic collapses.” He paused before adding, almost casually: “It might shut out her witch side too. Turn her fully human.” Nicholas’ heart stopped. Rocky inhaled sharply. “But,” Heeseung finished, “she will live.”

Silence. The restaurant seemed to exhale around them. Heeseung turned again, ready to leave, but something made him pause once more. His gaze drifted to the other side of the room. To Fuma. To the girl weakly stirring in his arms. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open. And the instant she saw Heeseung. She saw him. Her body went rigid, terror shooting through her like lightning. She clutched Fuma’s shirt, burying herself in him. Fuma growled softly, eyes burning gold. Heeseung swallowed. For the first time, he looked… not powerful. Not smug. But regretful. He spoke quietly, voice lacking its usual poison. “…I’m sorry.” Everyone froze. He took a breath. “For everything.”

(Y/n)’s tremble softened, but her fear remained. Heeseung continued: “I swear it. I vow to never return here. To never harm your pack again.” Jay’s eyes widened. Sora pressed a hand to her mouth. Because a vampire vow was not symbolic. Not emotional. Not poetic. It was binding. Absolute. Unbreakable. If Heeseung ever stepped foot on their territory again… He would die. Instantly. The weight of that truth settled over the room like a heavy snow. And without another word… Heeseung opened the doors. Cold air swept inside. He stepped out. And for the first time in five hundred years, he was alone. Leaving their territory. Leaving (Y/n). Leaving the end of a story that had dragged on far too long. And this time, he was never coming back.

(Y/n) turned in Fuma’s arms so suddenly he almost lost his breath. Her eyes, clear, focused, seeing, locked directly onto his. Not passing through him. Not sliding past him. Not clouded. Seeing him. She gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. Then she blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Hard. He didn’t disappear. Her knees went weak. A sob tore out of her before she could stop it, and Fuma, Fuma, who had held himself together through battles and blood and fear, felt his eyes sting too. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her impossibly close, as if afraid she’d vanish the second he loosened his grip.

She cupped his cheeks with shaking hands, her thumbs brushing along his skin as though memorizing every inch. “Hi,” she whispered, voice trembling with disbelief and awe. Fuma’s breath hitched. She could finally see him. Really see him. The realization shattered something inside him, something heavy he hadn’t even known he carried. He leaned into her touch, forehead nearly touching hers. His voice cracked as he whispered back: “Hi.” (Y/n) let out a half-sob, half-laugh. “It’s really you…” Fuma smiled, soft, overwhelmed, relieved in a way that made his chest ache. “Mm. It’s me.”

Neither of them knew who moved first. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was him. Or maybe the bond simply pulled them the last inch together. Their lips met. A tiny kiss. Tentative. Fragile. Like touching something sacred. Fuma’s hands rose to cradle the back of her head, gentle, reverent. (Y/n)’s fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, holding him as though terrified he would fade like a dream. But when they pulled apart. He was still there. Golden-orange eyes. Warm breath. Steady heartbeat. Fuma. Her mate. Her real mate.

They all turned toward Lila. She was shaking so hard the chair rattled against the floor. Her wide, terrified eyes darted between all of them, wolves, witches, vampires, none of it making sense, all of it too much. Jake had stayed by her side, speaking gently, hands open, posture soft. The only one she didn’t recoil from. The only one she seemed to trust even a little, because he looked human enough, kind enough. Safe enough.

But when Miyu stepped closer, voice trembling, “Lila, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” Lila screamed. “Stay away! Stay away from me, you… You monsters!” Miyu froze mid-step. The word hit her harder than any physical blow. Her breath caught, her entire body stiffened. Yuma quickly wrapped his arms around her from behind, hesitant at first, unsure if he should, then holding her a little tighter when she sagged against him. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered into her hair. “She’s scared. That’s all.” But even Maki, gentle, smiling, harmless Maki, who Lila had always joked was ‘too cute to be real’, couldn’t get close. She shrank back, trembling violently.

Miyu’s voice cracked. “We… we have to do something. We can’t let her live with this.” Rocky, pale and exhausted but conscious, used Nicholas’ arm to push herself half upright. “I… I can cast a spell,” she muttered weakly. “One final one. It’ll… remove Lila from this life.” Nicholas immediately shook his head. “No. Rocky, absolutely not. You’re drained, you’re injured, your oracle side,” Rocky cut him off with a tired, stubborn glare. “It’s the only option. She doesn’t understand our world. She’s terrified of it. She won’t survive like this, and she won’t ever look at any of us the same again.”

Lila heard every word. Her voice was small, cracking: “W-what does that mean? Remove me… from this life?” Rocky looked at her with an honesty that was almost gentle. “It means I can send you back to the version of your life where you never met Miyu or Jay… where you never came here… where you never learned about any of this.” Lila swallowed hard, tears streaming again, this time slower, quieter. She thought about it. Really thought about it. And then she nodded. “I… I want that. Please. I don’t ever want to remember this.” She sobbed into her knees. “I don’t want any of this.”

Rocky gathered what little strength she had left. Her hands trembled as she arranged the candles, three points, a triangle, the safest formation she could manage in her state. The air felt thin around her, as if her body could barely hold onto the magic she needed to summon. Jake walked toward her slowly, step by step, as if his body didn’t quite want to move. His eyes shimmered, not with fear, but with something far heavier. When Rocky looked up at him, she knew.

He wasn’t going to stay. His voice cracked. “Rocky… can I go with her?” The room went still. Rocky’s breath hitched. She reached out with both arms, pulling him into a tight hug. He felt warm, always warm, with that comforting, familiar presence that had steadied her through a thousand visions and twice as many nightmares. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder. “For all the years you’ve stayed by my side. For everything you’ve carried for me. Take care of her… okay?”

Jake swallowed hard, hugging her closer for a moment longer, then pulled away to face Nicholas. The wolf met the familiar’s eyes, understanding instantly. “Take care of her,” Jake said again, but this time to Nico. Nicholas nodded, jaw tight, eyes burning. “I will. I promise.” Jake gave him a small smile, sad, resigned, but sure, before walking back to Lila. She was still bound to the chair, shaking, but the moment Jake touched her hand she froze… then slowly relaxed, letting him entwine his fingers with hers. “I’m right here,” he murmured to her. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Rocky inhaled sharply, placing her hands on the floor. Her violet magic lit up in thin cracks beneath her palms. The candles flickered violently. The air pulsed. A small whirlwind of violet smoke rose around Jake and Lila. Once. Twice. Three times the smoke sparked gold, so bright it illuminated the wrecked restaurant like lightning. And then. Silence. The whirlwind burst outward in a soft rush of air… and the space where Jake and Lila had been standing was empty. Completely, utterly empty.

Rocky’s body crumpled in the same instant. Nicholas lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground. Her head lolled against his shoulder, blood already trailing from her nose and from her ears. “Rocky! Rocky, hey, stay with me,” Nico’s voice cracked with panic. Her breathing was shallow, her skin cold. The cost of the spell… had been far worse than any of them expected.

Nicholas didn’t hesitate. There was no fear. No second-guessing. Only instinct, raw, ancient, older than language, surging up and taking control. He shifted Rocky gently in his arms, tilting her head to expose the soft place where her neck met her shoulder. His fangs dropped fully, glowing faint gold at the tips. His eyes blazed with an alpha intensity no one in the room had ever witnessed before, bright, molten gold, shimmering with threads of white. The room held its breath. Then… He bit down.

Rocky’s body arched instinctively, her eyes flying open for a split second, glowing violently, brilliantly violet, like her oracle fire had sparked one last time. Her breath caught in her throat… and then released in a long, shuddering exhale as her body softened, melting into Nicholas’ hold. When Nico pulled his fangs free, everyone leaned in, expecting to see puncture wounds. Blood. Something violent. But instead, there was a mark. A delicate, ink-like violet printed into her skin, shaped unmistakably like the flower. At its base, wrapping around it in a looping spiral, a single thread of glowing gold. It shimmered once. Twice. Then settled, warm and alive.

Nicholas gasped softly, not from pain, but from the flood that hit him. Her energy. Her life. It was returning. That terrifying emptiness he had felt inside her since the fight, gone… replaced with a gentle thrum, like a second heartbeat syncing with his own. Rocky’s oracle side fell quiet. Dormant. Silent at last. Safe. She wasn’t dying anymore. Across the room, (Y/n) broke. She clung to Fuma, sobbing into his chest, the guilt pouring off her in waves so thick even the younger wolves flinched with how sharp it felt.

“I caused this,” she choked, voice cracking. “Everything, Lila, the fight, the restaurant, Rocky almost died because of me,” Fuma didn’t say a word at first. He simply wrapped both arms around her, pulling her fully into his lap, letting her bury herself against him as the last of the fog, physical and emotional, finally shattered. He could feel everything she felt. The guilt. The horror. The exhaustion. The relief. And beneath all that, the fragile, flickering beginning of something impossibly important.

He rested his chin on her head, tightening his hold, his voice deep and steady, even though his own emotions were all over the place. Not yet. Not now. For now, he just held her. They would talk later. They would unravel the pain in her eyes later. Right now, she was safe. Rocky was alive. And for the first time since meeting her, Fuma felt like he could finally breathe.

Sora and Jay worked until their hands shook. Jay moved quickly from wolf to wolf, pressing glowing palms to bruised ribs, torn skin, fractured bones. Sora knelt beside him every time he faltered, lending her own energy, cool, soothing, precise, until the two of them were visibly trembling with exhaustion. Even so, neither stopped until the worst of the wounds were mended. Only when the remaining injuries were the kind that would heal naturally overnight did Sora slump forward, breathless. Jay caught her elbow with the last of his strength, steadying her. “We’re okay,” Kei said softly, helping them ease onto a bench. “You’ve done enough.”

The pack stood silently in the ruins of Koyomi. Tables shattered. Chairs splintered. Walls cracked. Glass everywhere. The scent of blood mixed with dust and burnt wood. Miyu looked around her restaurant, her pride, her dream, eyes shining not with anger, but grief. Jay stepped beside her, slipping his hand into hers. Their shoulders touched, exhausted and united. Before either of them could apologize for the destruction, EJ stepped forward. “We’ll rebuild it,” he said simply. Sora nodded, voice tired but firm. “Every piece. Every board.” Kei added, “It wasn’t just your fight. It was ours.” “We protect our own,” Nicholas said, still holding Rocky protectively against him. “And we fix what we break,” Maki said, biting his lip, guilt written all over his face.

Jo, Harua, and Taki nodded vigorously, even with their clothes torn and faces bruised. Aya squeezed Kei’s hand. Yuma rested his head briefly against Miyu’s shoulder. Sana whispered that they’d repaint the walls together. Even (Y/n), still curled into Fuma’s arms, lifted her head and whispered, “Please… let me help too. I owe you all so much.” Fuma shook his head softly at her guilt, brushing his thumb delicately against her arm. “No,” he murmured. “You don’t owe us anything. But you can help if you want to.”

Jay looked around at all of them, his mismatched, chaotic family, and felt his throat close. They weren’t blaming him. They weren’t blaming (Y/n). They all simply belonged to each other. And together, they would rebuild every inch of Koyomi. Brick by brick. Board by board. As a pack.

~~~

The pack returned home under a quiet sky, moon hanging pale over the village, snow muted beneath their boots. It should have felt victorious. They had won. They had survived. Everyone was safe. But the night felt strangely hollow. Yuma wrapped his arms around Miyu the moment they stepped inside the main cabin. The loss of Lila weighed heavily on her, her coworker, her friend, the girl who always brought coffee to early shifts and joked about Maki’s terrible apron fashion. Jay lingered a step behind them, unsure if he should give them space or comfort her too. Miyu reached out, catching his sleeve, pulling him in. The three of them sat together, Miyu crying softly, Yuma rubbing soothing circles on her back, Jay lowered his head in both apology and mourning. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Grief sat between them like a candle burning low.

Harua found Maki and Taki sitting on the steps outside their cabin, wrapped in blankets the girls had forced on them. Snowflakes collected in Taki’s hair, melting slowly. “I was useless,” Taki muttered. Maki stared at his hands. “I couldn’t do anything about Lila…” Harua didn’t argue. He simply sat down between them, pressing his shoulders against theirs, sharing warmth and silence. After a moment he nudged them gently. “You two kept all of alive, all of were needed, or we wouldn’t have won this fight, we might have lost Lila and Jake, but we’re all alive, we have to look at this as a victory, I’m sure Lila is happy wherever she is now.” Maki sniffed. Taki nodded. And slowly, the shame loosened its grip.

EJ nearly carried Sora inside. She protested weakly, “I’m fine, I’m fine” but her trembling hands said otherwise. He sat with her on their bed, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead, whispering praise and comfort against her temple. She healed half the pack. She saved lives. And even exhausted, she still kept asking if everyone else was okay. “I’m proud of you,” EJ murmured into her hair. Sora finally let herself melt.

Nicholas carried Rocky straight to their cabin, refusing to let her walk even though she insisted she could. Her fingers were still cold. Her pulse shaky. But the mark on her shoulder, a delicate violet flower wrapped in a thread of gold, glowed faintly under the moonlight. Ancient magic. Ancient bond. “You scared me,” Nicholas whispered, brushing his thumb over the mark. Rocky looked up at him, tired but alive. “You saved me.” He kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, then finally her lips, long, trembling, grateful.

Jo and Sana stayed curled together on the couch in their own little cabin, Sana’s head on Jo’s chest. Jo held her tighter than ever, terrified at how close he’d come to losing her. But Sana whispered that she’d never been prouder of him, her sweet, quiet mate who had stood between a vampire and the girl he loved.

Kei and Aya remained at Koyomi. The restaurant was nearly destroyed. Aya walked the perimeter with a notebook, scribbling measurements. Kei lifted broken beams as if they weighed nothing. Between calculations, Aya reached for Kei’s hand. “We’ll rebuild it,” she said. Kei squeezed her fingers. “Together.”

And back in the main house, Fuma sat with (Y/n). Fuma had made her tea earlier, he handed it to her, carefully, as though the mug might burn her. She sat curled up on the couch, one leg tucked under her, blanket slipping from her shoulders. Fuma settled beside her with enough space not to overwhelm her, but close enough that she could lean on him if she wanted. She didn’t speak. She just looked at him. Her eyes traced every feature as though memorizing him: The color of his unique gold-orange eyes. The shape of his lips. The curl of hair near his ear he forgot to push back. The broadness of his shoulders. The way his hands relaxed when she stared at them too long.

Fuma shifted, clearing his throat. “Is… everything okay?” he asked softly. (Y/n) nodded, clutching the warm mug. “I just…” she whispered, voice fragile but real. “I spent so long only hearing you. Only sensing you. I’m scared that if I look away now… you’ll disappear again.” His breath caught. He reached out slowly, painfully slowly, so she had time to pull back if she wanted. She didn’t. Fuma brushed his hand against her cheek, grounding her. “I’m not going anywhere.” Her eyes shimmered, and she leaned forward just slightly, resting her forehead against his once again, this time fully seeing him. “This is real,” she whispered. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It’s real.” And for the first time since the spell broke, peace settled over both of them.

~~~

It took a week, one long, exhausting, strangely healing week, for the pack to rebuild Koyomi. Everyone helped, just as they’d promised. Some more than others, of course. Kei and Fuma took the lead, as expected. Both had helped build most of the cabins in the village; they worked with a natural rhythm, swinging hammers, replacing beams, reinforcing walls. Kei’s strength and Fuma’s precision made quick work of the heavy repairs. Aya and Harua handled logistics, keeping track of materials and schedules, while Yuma and Jo lifted anything that needed lifting. EJ and Nicholas repaired the structural damage from the fight, though Nicholas kept drifting away from the work site, always checking on Rocky.

Rocky had insisted she could help. She wanted to try, wanted to know if her magic still answered her, to see whether anything remained of the witch she had been. But Nicholas wouldn’t let her. Not yet. He watched her too closely, worried every flicker of effort would drain her. Every time she hinted at trying a spell, just a small one, Nicholas shut it down immediately, his fear still too fresh from nearly losing her. Rocky understood. She didn’t push.

Her oracle side was gone; she could feel the emptiness where the visions once lurked. No more nightmares. No ringing headaches. No violet-glowing eyes. She wasn’t sure if her witch magic still existed beneath the surface… but she’d wait until Nicholas wasn’t looking at her like she was made of glass. Instead, she painted. And joked. And cheered the others on while pretending her hands didn’t tremble whenever she thought too hard about what she’d lost.

(Y/n) painted too. It turned out to be the safest way for her to help without Fuma worrying she’d fall off a ladder or get hit by a plank someone swung too wide. Aya handed her a brush, smiling warmly, and soon the wall-painting team formed: Aya, Sana, Miyu, Rocky, Sora, and (Y/n). (Y/n) tried her best. She really did. But she was still shy, around everyone except Sora and Fuma. Conversations overwhelmed her. Too many voices, too much movement, too many new names and faces. Sometimes she zoned out halfway through Sana’s rambles about university or Miyu’s jokes about Yuma dropping things.

And whenever the world felt too loud, too bright, too full, she found him. Fuma always seemed to sense it. Even if he was across the room, hammer in hand, sweat on his forehead, he’d glance up the moment she faltered, his eyes locking onto hers as if pulled by an invisible thread. (Y/n) would walk over quietly, tapping his arm or tugging his sleeve. Without fail, he stopped whatever he was doing. Sometimes she just needed to stand beside him for a minute. Sometimes she tucked herself under his arm, hiding her face in his chest. And Fuma… He never turned her away. Not once. He’d wrap his arm around her waist, pull her close, press a soft kiss to her hair if no one was watching too closely. He’d whisper something warm against her temple, small comforts like: “You’re okay. I’m right here.” “Take your time.” “Do you want to stay with me for a bit?”

And she always nodded. Always. The others noticed, of course. How quickly she relaxed in Fuma’s arms. How he softened the moment she touched him. How he worked one-handed if she didn’t want to let go. But they didn’t tease. Not yet. The bond was still fragile, newly revealed, newly freed. And even though there was no more fog clouding her mind, (Y/n) still clung to him as if afraid the world might shift again and take him away. Fuma held her every time. Because her arms around him felt like fate finally righting itself. And he wasn’t about to let that be taken from him ever again.

Once the week was over, Koyomi stood proud again, warm lights glowing through polished windows, fresh paint gleaming on the walls, wood newly varnished and smelling of cedar. It looked almost new, though those who rebuilt it could still sense the history in the floorboards beneath their feet. The townspeople were eager for the reopening. Miyu and Jay had explained the sudden closure with a believable cover story, structural issues, unexpected repairs, safety concerns. People were disappointed but supportive, excited for opening day. No one remembered Lila. Not a trace remained of her existence, except within the pack. Maki kept her alive in his own way. He quietly slid a tray of familiar pastries into the oven, one of her recipes, whispering under his breath that he hoped he got the measurements right. He wouldn’t let her memory disappear completely. Not if he could help it.

The night before the reopening, the entire pack, and Jay, gathered in the dining area of the newly restored restaurant. They sat around a long table, plates of snacks spread out, soft chatter filling the room as they admired the work they’d all poured into rebuilding the place. Miyu stood first, looking around at each of them with warm, grateful eyes. “Thank you,” she said, voice soft but full. “For helping us rebuild. For not letting Koyomi die.” Jay stood beside her, squeezing her hand. “We couldn’t have done this without you. Every single one of you.” The pack smiled, murmured reassurances, raised their drinks. “And,” Miyu continued, cheeks warming with excitement, “we have an announcement to make.”

Everyone perked up. Even Sana straightened in her seat, and Jo paused mid-sip of his soda. Jay smirked and walked toward the back door. “Give me one second.” He disappeared into the storage room, leaving the pack buzzing with speculation. “What do you think it is?” Harua whispered to Taki. “Maybe new menu items,” Taki guessed. Sora leaned into EJ, eyes narrowed playfully. “You know what it is, don’t you?” EJ only grinned, smug but refusing to answer. Kei sat on Aya’s left, and she nudged him. “You know too?” Another secretive smile. “Maybe.” Rocky raised a brow at Nicholas. “Do you know?” Nicholas shrugged. “No, but EJ’s bad at hiding things.” Rocky smacked his arm lightly, laughing.

Maki, meanwhile, puffed his cheeks. “Why is everyone being cryptic? Am I the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on in my own workplace?” Fuma smirked at his younger brother. “Yes.” Maki threw a napkin at him. (Y/n) sat beside Fuma, leaning lightly against him, her curiosity growing. She wasn’t used to giving in to excitement, not in her old life, but the energy in the room was infectious.

Jay finally returned. He wasn’t carrying food. He wasn’t carrying decorations. He wasn’t even carrying supplies. He was carrying a sign. A large, freshly painted, wooden sign. Everyone leaned forward. Maki froze. “Wait,” he whispered. “What is?” Jay and Miyu exchanged one last look. And then, they flipped the sign around. Maki stared at the sign as if it were written in another language. Welcome to Koyomi, in bold, elegant lettering. And beneath it, smaller but unmistakable: Warm wishes from the owners, Miyu, Jay, Maki. His breath hitched.“W–What…?” he whispered, blinking rapidly. “No way. No. You’re kidding. You’re actually kidding!” Miyu shook her head, eyes sparkling. “Not kidding.”

Jay grinned, nudging Maki’s shoulder. “You’ve basically been running the kitchen half the time already. Once you finish your studies, you deserve your name on the door just as much as we do.” For a moment, Maki didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Then the pack erupted. Cheers. Clapping. Whistles. Taki lifted him halfway off the floor while Harua shouted, “OWNER MAKI!!” like a proud mom. Jo hugged him so tightly Maki squeaked. Sana cried dramatically about “finally recognizing his greatness.” Rocky actually whistled. Nicholas laughed loudly. Aya clapped her hands so hard they stung. Kei grinned with the warm steadiness of an older brother.

And Fuma… Fuma looked like a proud father. His chest puffed. His jaw trembled. His eyes shone, not sad, but full, overflowing with pride. They had survived so much together that Fuma could hardly remember a world without Maki in it. Seeing the boy he had raised, protected, loved, carried through storms—now being recognized as a co-owner of something he helped build… It broke something soft and warm inside him. (Y/n) noticed. Of course she did. She watched Fuma’s expression melt, hard edges softening, emotion rising behind his golden-orange eyes. She felt her own throat tighten at the sight; she’d seen many emotions in her life, but nothing as pure as the pride radiating off him now.

She clapped with the others, smiling shyly, her heart swelling at the joy surrounding her. Fuma wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her gently against him as the celebration swirled around them. He lowered his head, voice soft enough for only her. “Are you happy here?” he asked. “With us? With… me?” (Y/n) looked around the room, at Maki crying while Yuma spun him around, at Sora laughing into EJ’s chest, at Rocky resting against Nicholas, at everyone she had met in the strangest, scariest, and most beautiful week of her life. And then she looked at Fuma. Her mate. Her home. “I’m happy,” she whispered. “More than I ever thought I could be.”

Fuma exhaled, relief washing over him so strongly she could feel it. He pressed his forehead briefly to her temple, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “You belong here,” he murmured. “With all of us… and with me.” She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as laughter echoed around the newly rebuilt restaurant. For the first time in years, (Y/n) felt safe. Felt wanted. Felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be. And Fuma held her just a little tighter, as if silently promising, she would never face the world alone again.

As the night stretched on and the energy mellowed into warm chatter, Harua let out a dramatic sigh and slumped over the table. Aya nudged him. “You okay?” He gave her a look of pure despair. “No. I’m not okay. I’m not ready for the sanctuary project. We’re going to be gone for two nights, Aya. Two. Nights.” “Harua,” she laughed softly, “we’ve been preparing for this for weeks.” “That’s not the point,” he groaned. “It’s the first time I’ll be away from the pack overnight. What if something happens while we’re gone? What if something happens to us? What if,” “Harua,” Kei cut in with a sigh, “you literally fought a vampire last week.”

“That’s different!” Harua protested. “That was at home! When I’m home, I have backup! When we’re away, what if a bear shows up? Or a cougar? Or a…” “Harua,” EJ interrupted from across the room, rubbing his temples, “the sanctuary staff will be there. And Aya will be there. And you’re a werewolf.” Harua pointed at himself, offended. “A very soft werewolf!” Aya giggled but squeezed his arm reassuringly. “I’ll keep an eye on him. I promise.” EJ nodded firmly. “Good. Make sure he actually sleeps. And eats. And doesn’t wander off trying to pet anything with teeth.” Harua opened his mouth to protest, but… well… that was something he would do, as long as it was cute.

Taki, leaning back with a bowl of leftover dessert, snorted. “Why does Harua get to go on a trip? I’ve been stuck here doing training every day.” EJ raised a brow. “Taki, number one: you’ve never asked to go on a trip.” Taki blinked. “Oh.” “And,” EJ continued, “number two: you still need to finish learning how to control your shift.” Taki groaned loudly, throwing his head back. “I knew you were going to say that.” “But,” EJ added, hiding a smile as Taki perked up, “maybe one day. Once you’re fully in control, you can go on a trip too.” “Really?” Taki asked, eyes wide, tail practically wagging behind his human form. “Really,” EJ confirmed.

Taki looked delighted, and immediately turned to Jo. “Hear that? One day, I get to go on a trip!” Jo nodded, sipping his drink. “Yeah, and hopefully you won’t destroy someone’s cabin when you shift in your sleep.” Taki frowned. “That was one time.” “It was last month,” Harua reminded him, deadpan. Maki chimed in, “I still don’t know how you bit through an entire mattress.” Taki crossed his arms stubbornly. “I was dreaming about steak, okay?”

Laughter filled the room again, soft, warm, healing. And as Aya leaned against Kei, as Rocky rested peacefully in Nicholas’ arms, as Miyu and Jay whispered about the reopening, as (Y/n) stayed curled in Fuma’s embrace, EJ finally allowed himself to relax, holding Sora close to himself. Maybe the world was messy. Maybe danger would always find them. But tonight? They were safe. Together. Laughing. A pack. They had proved once more that they could fight even destiny itself, as long as they faced the threat together as a pack, as a family.

~~~ The End ~~~

Alright, that was the end of this part. Fuma finally got his mate, though with some struggles. How do we feel? Anyone mourning the loss of Lila and Jake? Originally, I planned to have Lila die, but I figured this was a better route to take.

And sorry to everyone, just to clarify, I do not think Heesueng and Sunghoon are assholes like they are in the story. This was purely for the plot. Also, how do we feel about the sudden reveal of Sunghoon’s mate?

Tell me your thoughts, about any detail, I want to hear everything! And who do you think will find his mate next?

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