steph

There is a man laying in your front garden - bleeding to death.

What’s even worse, he is an alpha who is bleeding to death.

The sight made you freeze mid-motion, and your eyes did not let the man leave your sight for a single second.

The scent radiating of him made you dizzy because you didn’t had an encounter with anyone in a really long time. Especially not with an damn alpha.

You forced your breath to calm itself and the omega in you roared furiously because it longed for attention and care. But that didn’t matter. It never mattered to you. You had more important things to focus on.

Panicked, your gaze darted left and right to see if anyone else could have found you—which, in reality, shouldn't be possible. You had managed to stay undercover for two whole years. Was everything you had endured now simply going to be over?

Your heartbeat only slowly calmed down as you realized the bleeding man was the only person around.

You thought about going into your hut again, forgeting about him in your front yard and continuing your peaceful day like nothing happened. But you knew already that it was a lost case.

"We always have to help for those in need, my dear." Your mothers voice rang in your ears and you feel like you will suffocate right here and now just thinking about her.

You really are your mothers daughter so you approached the man with quick steps, claiming your future with this decision.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

You left him lying with his fresh stitched up wound in your front yard.

At least he wasn't bleeding out anymore, though every few minutes you glanced out your window to see if he was still lying there and that you didnt imagine him in your head. Everytime you looked out he was still there, his chest going up and down with each breath he took.

A hard reminder that this wasn't just a sick dream.

But after all, your daily routine had to go on, didn't it? You had your plants to tend to; you would probably be sadder if one of them died than you were about the man in your front yard.

As you were out in your backyard, watering your plants and home-grown vegetables, your thoughts swirled inside your head, so loudly, in fact, that you failed to notice the pained, groaning sounds. It wasn't until you went back inside your cottage and saw the man who was supposed to be lying in your front yard instead leaning against your front door, that you let out a startled scream.

Without a second thought, you grabbed the nearest available weapon and now stood facing him—armed with a weed puller. It seemed rather ridiculous, but you were certain you could inflict significant damage with it, should the man even entertain the idea of ​​attacking you.

He, however, breathing heavily, leaned against the doorframe. And would your heart not pound so wildly again, you might have thought that an amused glint flickered in his eyes. Yet he merely raised his hands slowly, his face contorted in pain.

"I’d rather you didn’t skewer me with that thing there."

"Have you ever heard of knocking?!" you demanded indignantly, not daring to lower your weed-whacker.

"I would have knocked if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that you were the one who probably put me back together.", he looked at you and your weapon of choice in your hand and nodded towards it, "If I had known that you want to kill me now after saving my life I would rather leave now."

Your eyes immediately went to his injured side and thousands of emotions swirled inside you. To your misfortune, the omega buried deep inside you purred in delight at the sight of the Alpha and you breathed in annoyed. You ignored his remark and the stupid omega inside you and wondered how the hell he is able to stand with this kind of wound he has.

The wound you tended to was deep, and… you took a closer look at him.

It took every ounce of his strength to remain upright. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his hands repeatedly clenched into fists as if the mere thought of lying helplessly on the ground again would cause him even greater pain.

Slowly you lowered your „weapon" and eyed him cautiously before nodding your chin towards a chair. He was still hurt, you reminded yourself and that thought alone calmed you down even a little bit. "Sit down. You’re about to collapse again."

A scoff escaped his lips. "It takes a lot more than that to knock me out."

You stared at him, your expression completely blank. "Bold words coming from someone whose life I saved just today." You gestured toward the chair once more. "Do us both a favor and sit down, so my efforts aren't wasted and your wound doesn't reopen."

His gaze darted back and forth before—presumably—the logical part of his brain won , and he slowly walked over to the chair and let himself sink into it. His face relaxed almost immediately, and you couldn't help but scoff. "So it doesn't take that much after all," you muttered, and with the weed-puller in your hand, you took a few steps closer.

"Whoa, get away from me with that thing!" he breathed out and looked at you with wide eyes and you rolled your eyes annoyed.

"I need to look at your wound so it doesnt get infected!" you argued and held up your weed-puller, "this is just for my own protection."

"And who is that thing supposed to protect you from?" He asked while looking at you like you’ve became insane for even pointing with it at him.

"You. I dont know you." you answered defensively and crossed your arms in front of your chest. He didnt respond, only looked at you with slightly widened and confused eyes.

"What?"

"You dont know me?" He asked carefully and his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He doesnt believe you.

"Should I?" Sarcasm dripped in your voice and gestured at him to lift up his shirt. But he didnt move, his eyes still sceptically on you and you had the feeling you'll loose all your nerves with this man in front of you.

„Do I have to know you to see your wound?“ The annoyance inside you was clearly on the table now and to your dismay, an amusing glint appeared in his dark eyes.

„Demanding little thing, aren‘t you?“

Your eyes shined with anger and wordlessly you held up your weed-puller and even if it’s just for the joke or if he’s really scared you‘ll stab him with it, he sighed and lifted his shirt up.

„Well, thank you“ you sighed and let the weed-puller fall down on the floor while your eyes examined the neat line of stitches. You did a pretty well job for such a big gash and it didn’t seemed to be infected. At least one good thing that worked today.

„I‘ll make you a compress with some plants that will help the healing“ you mumured and made your way to your little kitchen sink. „That way you‘ll heal faster“ And with that leave faster.

You pretended to didn’t notice the way his eyes stare at the back of your head or how they wandered through the room. You tried to focus on making the compress until a question from him made you freeze.

„Whats your name?“

„I‘ll tell you mine if you tell me yours“ you said without thinking much and almost immediately cursed yourself out internally. You didn’t want to know him. And you certainly don’t want him to know your name.

Maybe it was the starved omega in you that made you behave like that. You made a note for yourself to drink a fresh tea of cyperus leaves later to suppress your omega needs again. The cyperus plant was a lifesaver to you. It help you with your heat, suppressing it until you almost had no problems with it at all, but it seemed the presence of the alpha brings everything down to zero.

Another reason why he needs to leave as soon as possible.

„I don’t think that’s a fair deal“ he only muttered and laid his head back against the wall.

„Are you a wanted criminal or something like that?“ You asked with a scoff.

He hummed tiredly and just shook his head. „Worse.“

You turned your head around and looked at him, truly looked at him for a few seconds. His dark eyes shined in a devastating sadness as he stared up the wall and the empathy in you screamed to help him.

That’s also a trait from your mother like the saying that you‘ll need to help someone who truly needs it.

And this man almost screamed quietly for help.

You blame your dead mother for your next words.

„You can call me Daisy.“

It wasn’t your real name but it was not nothing. His eyes immediately went back to yours and a glitter of peace appeared in them.

„Thank your for saving me, Daisy.“

The nickname on his tongue made you shiver and before he could notice you quickly turned around again, finishing up the compress. You just wanted to turn around to attach it to him, when his voice mumured again in your little hut.

„Seungcheol.“

„Huh?“ You looked at him confused.

„Call me Seungcheol.“

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol went through a lot in his not so long life. Being the only heir of the empire of Noxtus was one thing filled with countless duties, endless expectations and the constant pressure to become a king that is worth to rule its kingdom.

It wasn't necessarily hard for him. He had his loving parents and with that the perfect example how a kingdom should be ruled. He had his closest friends, always having his back and besides their mischieves in their younger days they've all become respecatble men and Seungcheol could see the bright future of him and his loved ones living happily in Noxtus.

Until Lunaria striked at them.

Seungcheol was incredibly lucky that he happened to be training with Mingyu at the time of the ambush. This allowed him to use his sword to take out a considerable number of charging soldiers—and he was truly naive enough to think that they would all make it out unscathed and put the enemy to flight.

That was seconds before he went up to the castle wall to see actually how many soldiers were attacking his kingdom. Before he saw how his father fought bravely against the intruders and failed. Before he saw how the head of his father rolled across the stone and the eyes of his murderer locked onto Seungcheols.

Lee Sinyoung. New King of Lunaria, previously a significant ally of Noxtus.

A fucking traitor.

Everything happened fast after that. He felt hands tugging at him and he saw the frantic eyes of Joshua while voices screamed at him to flee.

Seungcheol was never more confused in his life. How could he flee? How could he leave his people behind - his responsibility?

His friends were lucky that he was still in shock seeing his beheaded father because in no world he would allow them to seat himself onto his horse and force him to flee. He would rather die defending his country than flee like a coward.

"Seungcheol, listen!" Jeonghans hissed and the screams of dying soldiers bleeded in Seungcheols ears. He had to force himself to listen to one of his best friends.

"You are going to die if you stay here.", Jeonghan argued and looked over his shoulders. Joshua and Seungkwan stood before the two of them, guarding them so no one would intervene.

"You all will be dead if I leave" Seungcheol argued back and the damn screams of pain didnt stop-

Jeonghan shook his head and Seungcheol wondered if the day has come that his best friend truly had lost his mind. "We'll be hiding. All of us. You know they wont find us."

A pained expression filled Seungcheols face and Jeonghan smiled up to him while patting the back of Salute, Seungcheols loyal horse. "We'll be fine. Hide and we'll make a plan to get your kingdom back."

"Jeonghan-"

"Go!" His friend screamed at him as new invaders reached them and his friends immediatly striked against them. Seungcheol had to force himself to look away and what was even more important, to not look back as he made the decision to flee. He never hated himself more.

Fate, too, seemed to have something against his decision; for just as he reached the forests of Fyndor, two soldiers from Lunaria emerged, men who had evidently taken up the pursuit.

So, right here, Seungcheol had another chance to prove himself. After all, he was now the King of Noxtus—whether he was within his kingdom or not. He would be damned if two mere foot soldiers from Lunaria were to be the reason he ended up dying.

He chose to fight and the years of training with Mingyu and Hansol by his side had paid off. They were hardly worthy opponents for him, two Alphas who repeatedly attempted with sloppy movements to inflict the greatest possible damage upon him. They didn't fight with their heads; they didn't think the way Seungcheol did.

Minutes later, they laid half-dead on the ground before him, and Seungcheol trembled with barely contained rage. With a swift motion of his hand, he wiped his opponent’s blood from his cheek; then, with powerful hands, he took the helm of the shirt of the man before him and dragged him closer.

"What is he planning?" Seungcheol didn't even have to utter a name before the dying man spat out blood with a grin.

"King Sinyoung spoke of the great empire of Lunaria—and he mentioned you spineless wimps from Noxtus. You aren't worthy of leading an entire nation."

Satisfaction played out in the eyes of the man before him, and Seungcheol couldn't help but scoff, gritting the words through his teeth: "Your king will die. I don't care how long I have to hunt him down. He will pay for what he did to my people."

The man before him seemed as if he could not possibly be any more satisfied. He let out a raspy laugh, even as blood continued to trickle from his mouth. His teeth no longer appeared white; with a bloody grin, the man looked up at Seungcheol and simply whispered, "For that, you’ll have to survive today first."

Seungcheol had no time to react to the words, for a searing pain coursed through his right side. He immediately released the man, who tumbled to the ground laughing, and Seungcheol spun around just as a third soldier withdrew his sword from Seungcheol’s side, the blade glowing red with his blood.

"Does a king bleed any differently than we soldiers do, your highness?", the beta asked with a grin and wielded his sword against Seungcheol again. They both tripped into the direction of Salute and the poor horse was cut from the blade of the men before it turned away and ran into the woods, leaving his owner alone fighting for his life.

Seungcheol hoisted his own sword just in time with the attacks of the enemy, clutching his bleeding right side the whole time. He had to ignore the pain and then somehow stop the bleeding immediately. But first, he had to get rid of this runt.

He must have been guided by some higher power. Seungcheol truly could not explain otherwise how he was able to fight with such a wound and withstand the strong blows of his opponent.

But Seungcheol had always been good at enduring. Discipline had been a virtue of his father—one he had always placed great value upon.

"A king does not simply give up, Seungcheol," he reminded himself of his father's words. "He stands tall and defends his people. For they are our entire pride."

So Seungcheol stood tall, even with a life-threatening wound. His efforts were rewarded by fate, it seemed. In a moment of carelessness of the beta Seungcheol managed to slash his blade across his throat. Gasping for breath, the beta collapsed onto the forest floor and wasted his final words with false hopes: "Long live King Sinyoung."

Seungcheol stared at the three dead men laying before his feet and he swore by the sun, the moon, and the stars that he would unleash hell on earth upon everyone who had taken everything from him today.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol leaned unconsciously against the wall, sitting uncomfortably in the chair, and for exactly one second, you wondered whether you should go though the trouble of somehow dragging him into your only bed. A glance at his wound, however, settled the matter relatively quickly. You had absolutely no desire for it to reopen in any way—his stumbling around earlier had been risky enough as it was.

It was no wonder at all that he had fallen back asleep almost immediately after your conversation. He must have been in unbearable pain, and his body now needed a period of recovery. The thought of how long that might take troubled you immensely.

You wanted him to leave. You didn't need a wounded Alpha here in your little hideout. That would only bring you the kind of trouble you had steadily managed to avoid for the past two years. But you wouldn't kick an injured person out the door and leave them to fend for themselves. And apparently, he was all alone, with those dark, sad eyes of his, and that damn desperate look from before just wouldn't leave your mind.

So you made the decision to get him back on his feet as quickly as possible. Every hour, you changed the compresses on his right side and kept the tea—steeped with basil, chamomile, and thyme—warm so that he could drink it the moment he woke up. You knew that healing required time and patience—qualities you didn't exactly possess. As far as you were concerned, he could drink two liters in one go if there was even a chance that doing so would make him disappear just as quickly as he had arrived.

The sun was just setting, and you stood in the kitchen, gently stirring your mushroom soup, when a pained groan sounded from behind you. You slowly turned your head towards Seungcheol, who was slowly propping himself up a little, grimacing as he slowly rotated his head to work out the stiffness caused by his uncomfortable position. Your hand immediately reached for a warm cup of the tea you had brewed for him before you strode quickly to stand before him, in your other hand the weed puller, which still served as your safe anchor against this stranger. "Here. Drink this," you commanded, holding the steaming cup up to his face.

His eyes drifted from the weed puller to the cup in your hand and with raised eyebrows. He looked up at you clearing his throat and then carefully took the cup from you. You gave it to him in such way that your hands definitely wouldn't touch, and the stupid Omega inside you growled angrily because of that. It was already hard enough for you when you were changing these damn compresses, his skin burning under your finger tips and you had to stop a few times because it was just too much. You hadn't touched another soul in two years and now this.

Another mental note to drink an extra portion of your cyperus tea. You've already drank one a few hours ago but your omega just wont shut up.

Seungcheol took a cautious sip of the tea, and just as you turned around to continue stirring the soup, he immediately spat out the tea you had brewed yourself.

"Hey! I spent hours brewing that specifically for you, you moron!" you cried out indignantly, glaring furiously at him as he stared at the tea with a look of utter disgust.

"What is this?" he asked, coughing, and you shook your head disdainfully. "Herbs to help you recover faster. Drink it—now."

Only after he had completely drained the cup and took a deep breath, you nod in satisfaction and took the cup back from him. "Dinner is almost ready," you murmured, turning back around—now acutely aware of just how small your cabin actually was. For one person, it was perfect; but for two? Where was he even supposed to sleep? He was injured; naturally you would give him the bed. That meant several nights for you in your reading armchair, which stood in the back corner of the room. Great.

Seungcheol too seemed to be hyperaware of the situation he is in, as he stayed quiet and said nothing to you while you were preparing dinner.

A few minutes later, you set the soup down on the small table and sat down across from him, letting the weed puller drop beside your plate. Seungcheol’s eyes immediately locked onto it, and this time, you could clearly make out the amusement on his face.

"Don't you think I would have attacked you long ago if that were my intention?" he asked in a raspy voice; you merely shrugged, your cold eyes fixed on him.

"Better safe than sorry." You began to eat, but he simply continued to stare at you, not even glancing down at his soup. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you turned your gaze back to him. "Do I fascinate you so much that your brain has stopped working? Eat. You need to get well." You nodded toward the soup sitting in front of him.

"You haven't spoken to anyone in a long time, have you?" he asked suddenly, and, caught off guard, you narrowed your eyes.

"How would you know that?" you retorted defiantly, tilting your head. "Maybe I get visitors every week."

"You only have one proper plate." Seungcheol nodded toward his own plate, where his soup remained untouched, and then his eyes shifted to your mug. "You're eating soup out of a large mug, and I watched you spend nearly three minutes searching for a second spoon."

Caught red-handed, you pressed your lips together, then shrugged. "Okay, you've got me. But why should you care?"

"I want to know who the person is who saved my life today." His dark eyes fixed upon you, and were you not so stubborn, you would flee into another room right now and simply barricade yourself in. But this was your house. Your right to defend yourself—to protect yourself.

"There is nothing you need to know about me," was all you replied, taking another spoonful of your soup.

Seungcheol scoffed. "You really know how to hold an conversation." Sarcasm dripped in his voice. "Isn't there always something interesting to know about other people?"

"Not in my case." Your voice was colder than you intended, and you felt a strong urge to change the subject.

"Maybe you could tell me something about the person whose life I saved today." A shadow crossed his eyes, and you smiled at him triumphantly. He wanted to talk about himself just as little as you wanted to talk about yourself.

His teeth bit his lower lip for a few seconds, and your gaze flickered towards it before you swiftly looked away and finished your soup.

"So you don't get many visitors. I guess I'm the first. How long have you been living here?" Seungcheol tried again and finally began to eat his soup. You poured him another cup of tea, pondering whether or not you should answer him. After all, he would be staying here for some time, and apparently, he truly had no intention of attacking you, nor did he have any idea who you were. That was something you could work with.

It didn’t help that you were curious about his situation, too. How did he even got his wound? And who exactly is the man who is sitting here and now in your safe little hut?

"A question for a question," you proposed, setting the fresh cup of tea down beside his plate. Seungcheol nodded, and you gave him the answer to his first question: "Two years."

He nodded thoughtfully and continued eating. You sank back into the chair opposite him. "Who inflicted that wound on you?" You gestured toward his right side.

"Enemy soldiers," was his reply, and you studied him thoughtfully. That could mean many things. Nothing about him suggested any connection to a kingdom. He wore no armor, and nowhere was an emblem to be seen and the sword that he carried with him (and you hid) also showed no belonging to a specifical kingdom.

"Are they dead?" you asked with a quiet voice and Seungcheol's eyes landed on you again.

"Yes."

You nodded, relief flooded your veins. "Good."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol couldn't figure you out. To begin with, there was your scent. You smelled of nothing. The Alpha within him was extremely restless, practically commanding him to find out what was wrong with you—why he couldn't classify what you were.

Then there was your manner. You looked after him, regularly changed his compresses, and refilled his tea every minute. But as soon as he spoke to you, your only responses were short and cold.

Seungcheol wouldn't exactly describe himself as charming, but he wasn't actually bad at dealing with new people. After all, he was a prince—now a king—so he had to be good at getting along with strangers. But with you, there was a towering wall, and he could practically feel you shutting him out. He just didn't understand why.

You could have simply let him die. But you didn't. And now he was bound to you in this hut, and he had to write a secret letter to find out how his kingdom was doing, how his friends were doing. Had everyone escaped? Had everyone truly managed to hide? Is Salute alright? These thoughts nearly drove him mad.

The only distraction available is a conversation with you—and that turned out to be more impossible than expected.

One question in exchange for another had been enough for you; you likely didn't want to know anything more from him, for you changed his compress once again, your body rigid with extreme tension, without even meeting his eyes.

The Alpha within Seungcheol stirred restlessly, and Seungcheol wondered what the hell was going on.

At least one thing was clear to Seungcheol: You didn't have the faintest clue who he was. If you had even the slightest inkling, you never would have allowed him to stay in your cabin for so long, not with how guarded and cautious you were.

So he simply had to remain quiet about his true identity, wait until he was healthy again, and then return to Noxtus as quickly as possible.

Once you were finished, you threw away the bloody compress and nodded towards another room.

"Lie down and sleep. You won't recover if you sit in that chair the whole time."

His eyes followed yours and confused he asked, "And where will you sleep?" He couldn't take a woman's only bed away from her.

"You don't have to worry about that," you merely murmured—and Seungcheol had never encountered a person as stubborn as you. And that was really saying something; after all he had often debated fight strategies with Minghao, and that too was anything but easy.

"I can just stay here-"

"Seungcheol." The sound of his name on your tongue made the blood freeze in his veins, and his Alpha stirred restlessly within him, as if he couldn't quite gauge whether he wanted to hear his name from your lips once more, or would rather never hear it again. Confusion coursed through Seungcheol as he tried to focus on your words.

"Please just go to bed now and sleep. You look like you're about to collapse again, and rest is what your body needs most right now." you argued with what almost seemed like a soft voice and the unspoken words filled the room. I dont need your worry. I can fend for myself.

Even though he found it difficult, Seungcheol knew when a battle was over and when not to push things too far. He saw the exhaustion on your face; after all, you had spent the entire day looking after him. That only made him feel more guilty about taking your bed now.

"One night", he croaked out and cleared his throat. "I'm not taking it longer than needed."

He saw how your nod and then gathered all his strength to rise carefully to his feet. It took him a moment to find his balance before he began walking slowly and cautiously towards the other room. Pain racked his entire right side, and beads of sweat were already glistening on his forehead once again, when suddenly the weight on his left side was slightly lifted and it became easier to walk. He looked down at you in astonishment, saw that you were now supporting him with your delicate hands, your gaze fixed intently straight ahead.

Wherever your skin touched his, his flesh seemed to burn and for at least a brief moment, the searing pain from his wound was somehow forgotten. Seungcheol’s alpha perked up with curiosity, and his entire attention focused on the places where your skin touched, as if it would leave visible marks.

All of this made absolutely no sense at all, why his alpha, or furthermore he, reacted that way considering he didn't even know what you were. An Omega hiding behind a massive protective wall? An Alpha freely asserting her dominance? Or perhaps a Beta who simply wanted to live in peace and solitude in her cabin?

Yet Seungcheol recalled that his inner alpha had never been so curious about another person before; and a few minutes later, as he laid in your bed, completely enveloped by your sweet lingering scent, peaceful sleep finally claimed him for the first time since the attack.

(While he laid in bed, sleeping peacefully, you rushed to your small, hidden drawer in the kitchen and quickly brewed yourself a fresh tea made with Cyperus leaves; and even though it was still scalding hot, you downed it in a flash—hoping that the screaming Omega within you would finally fall silent.)

Seungcheol woke up the next morning feeling much better than he had the day before. Apparently, you had already changed his compress; a glance at his bandaged wound told him everything he needed to know. Carefully, he sat up and, with soft steps, left the room, only to find the cabin empty. His gaze swept searchingly across the windows, and there you were, standing in the backyard, harvesting some vegetables.

It didn't take long before you noticed him. You regarded him with an appraising look, then nodded back toward the cabin. "Freshen up. I'll make us some breakfast in a moment." Then you turned back around; apparently, your resolve not to speak to Seungcheol remained unchanged.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

"Is there a village nearby?" Seungcheols voice cut through the quietness of your garden as you tended to your herbs and plants while he sat on a chair, enjoying a few minutes of fresh air before you would tell him to lay down again.

That was your established routine the last week. Eat with him, change his compress, force him to drink the tea and them command him to sleep. You could feel his restless energy but the first signs of improvement were already becoming apparent.

He was now able to stay awake for much longer, and short walks no longer took a toll on him. Bad for you, because he started seeking conversation with you much more often.

"Yeah, about half a mile to the west," you murmured back. Perhaps this was finally the first sign that he wanted to leave. Although his wound was already improving, his general condition still gave you cause for concern at times—especially when he tossed and turned in your bed while sleeping, constantly murmuring various names. Nightmares plagued him day in and day out; and even if it seemed as though he was slowly but surely recovering physically, the same could not be said for his state of mind.

By now, you had started giving him tea with special herbs in the evenings to help him get a better night's sleep. It worked only moderately well.

"I would like to go there. I have to write an important letter."

Your piercing eyes bored into him. "To whom?"

"Why do you need to know?" He asked calmly.

"Because I don't need anyone to come here," you shot back, turning back to your plants.

Seungcheol remained silent for a few seconds before his quiet voice once again broke the silence. "No one will come. I just want to let someone know that I'm alive."

Feelings of guilt stirred deep within you, and with a sigh, you closed your eyes for a few moments. You would do anything to preserve your own safety, but Seungcheol had just barely escaped death. He had the right to let someone know. You couldn't take that away from him.

Your eyes turned back to him, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. And he looked broken. Dark circles ringed his handsome face, his dark hair fell into his brown eyes, and everything inside you screamed that an Alpha—any Alpha—should not look like this. Most likely, it was your hormone-driven Omega screaming this at you but you allowed yourself to listen to it for the first time. Helping, that is something you could do.

So you muttered softly to him: "Give yourself enough time to rest and then I'll show you the village."

And apparently, that was enough for Seungcheol, for a deep sense of calm now radiated from him.

He joined you more and more in the garden. Three days after your conversation about the village you found yourself planting new herbs to your collection and a shadow laid itself over you. You felt his eyes watching you and while you tried to ignore his presence behind you it became harder and harder to do exactly that.

You sat back and looked up to him from the ground. His eyes didnt leave the herbs and he nodded to your bed full of your goods. "I also had many beds at home but none of them looked even close like yours."

"Is that an compliment or an insult?" you asked with a scoff and continued to look up to him.

A mischivious glint appeared in his eyes. "It depends how confindent you are in your doings."

"Then its clearly a compliment."

Seungcheol huffed amused and then, to your suprise, he slowly lets himself down beside you in the grass. You pressed your lips lightly together and before you could even think what the hell you were doing, you took the herb you just wanted to plant in in your hands and rambled: "This is vervain. It has fever-reducing and antispasmodic effects."

When Seungcheol responded nothing a red veil of shame settled on your cheek. What the hell? Where did that come from now?

But Seungcheol nodded encouragingly with a faint smile, then gestured with his chin toward the herb in your hand. "Does it have a meaning?"

"Good fortune," you murmured, and you were just about to plant it when the question burning on your tongue already escaped your lips: "Do you want to give it a try?"

Seungcheol looked at you with feigned surprise. "I don't want my wound to reopen.", a sarcastic undertone laid on his words and you rolled your eyes amused.

"I'll get a medal for you if you manage to do"

Seungcheol grinned in amusement, then carefully took the herb from your hand and looked somewhat helplessly down at the garden bed below him. "I've never done anything like this before…" he confessed hesitantly.

With raised eyebrows, you looked at him with amusement. "Just set it in the hole, pile some soil around it so it stands firm, and then pat the earth down. It's not magic."

"You say so. It always looks so easy when you do it," he remarked as he carefully placed the Vervain in the ground. You watched every of slightest movement, letting his words race through your mind. Had he been watching you plant every single time he sat outside recently? And why did that thought alone make you shy and restless? Gardening was your element. You knew how to handle your plants, and just because someone was watching you that shouldnt throw you off balance.

Seungcheol asked you a question that snapped you out of your thoughts in an instant. Caught off guard, you stared at him, tilting your head slightly in a questioning manner. Seungcheol nodded toward the planted vervain and repeated his question: "Is this okay?"

You looked down at it, and an amused scoff escaped your lips. "You buried it a little too deep." Carefully, you shoveled some soil aside to set the herb a bit higher.

Seungcheol snorted and leaned back again. "Well, seems like I'm a lost case."

"Now you’re exaggerating," you replied with amusement, gazing at the plant with a smile. "Gardening isn't about right or wrong. It’s about effort, patience, and gentleness." You gestured toward the many blooming flowers all around you. "It’s a give-and-take."

He followed your gaze and surveyed all your flowers, herbs, and vegetables.

"Except for the weeds," he remarked then with a knowing grin, and a laugh escaped your lips; grinning, you nodded. "Except for the weeds, yes."

He continued to watch you as you planted the remaining plants, before asking softly: "And Daisys?"

"What about them?" you asked back without looking at him.

"Whats their meaning?"

You froze for a few seconds before continuing and then you muttered softly: "Purity. Innocence."

You hoped that he wouldn't pick up on the sadness in your voic, but that was likely a lost cause. Especially given the pensive look Seungcheol cast your way when you murmured, "New beginnings."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The days passed, and Seungcheol’s physical condition steadily improved. He moved around significantly more and even helped you carry soil a few times—though each time, you scolded him to be careful about his wound.

He even started arguing with you that you should sleep in your own bed again and he would take the armchair, something you immediately refused, and it was only when you threatened him once more with the weed puller that he finally let it rest.

That really should have reassured you. The sooner he got back on his feet physically, the sooner you would have your peace and quiet back—though, in truth, you had to admit that a comfortable rhythm had slowly but surely crept into your daily routine. Apparently, after two years of solitude, it took only a few weeks to get used to having another person around again; and your Omega was happier than ever.

Usually, you never felt its presence due to the suppression caused by the Pyperus herbs; yet here, while the Alpha lived in your home and recovered, the herbs seemed to be only half-effective. It practically purred beneath your skin all day long, and whenever he was even just in your vicinity, your Omega would be happier than it had ever been before, much to your dislike.

While his body steadily recovered, his mind remained stagnant. You could clearly tell that normal, everyday conversations helped distract him from whatever was weighing on him. But whenever the two of you weren't talking—and you merely cast him brief, furtive glances—you would find him either lost deep in thought, wearing an expression so sad and desperate that it took your breath away, or watching you, as if trying to suppress the very thoughts that were driving him to the brink of madness.

One day, in particular, seemed to weigh heavily on him. He barely spoke a word, drinking the bitter tea without so much as a grimace, and slowly you found yourself teetering on the brink of despair because his gaze was so damn empty. You didn't know how to handle it, and you cursed yourself for being unable to simply ignore that damn worry gnawing inside you. You were responsible for the well-being of his body—not his soul.

But your mother’s words played like a steady melody through your mind, and you couldn't shake the thought that healing is a holistic process—and that, unfortunately, the psyche is an inseparable part of it.

It was evening, and you were just clearing away the dishes when you broke one of your own rules.

"Do you want to talk?"

His dark eyes slowly turned toward you, and you stood uncertainly in the room, unable to take back the offer now.

"I mean…" you struggled for words, then sighed in frustration. "You're having nightmares. I hear you murmuring names at night," you confessed softly.

His cold eyes shifted back to the floor. "Sorry to disturb your sleep."

"No!" you argued immediately, grimacing. God—what was wrong with you? "I just mean… if you want to talk. About the people. Then I can listen," you tried again, and this time, Seungcheol apparently understood your intention.

He was silent for a few minutes, long enough that you thought he was going to turn down your offer. Which was fine, too. If you knew nothing about him, he couldn't expect to learn anything about you.

"My father was killed right before my eyes, shortly before I ended up here with you."

Your heart stopped for a few seconds and sorry filled you, as you slowly approached the table and you sank down on the chair on the opposite of him.

"I don't know if my mother is still alive," he murmured, "or if my friends managed to escape."

„Was your village attacked?“ you asked carefully and Seungcheol nodded after a few seconds.

„Something like that.“

You pressed your lips together troubled in loss of words. Because there were none. Expect only a few.

„I’m sorry, Seungcheol. I can’t imagine the pain of not knowing if they‘re alright or not“

His eyes shined while he looked at you and maybe it was this screwed situation or that damn omega inside you that the next words flooded out of your mouth.

„I‘ve lost my mother too some time ago“, a sad smile appeared on your lips and you shrugged helplessly with your shoulders.

„I thought I‘ll die right there and now but I’ve survived it. I had to. The thought of continuing to live and to be a daughter she would be proud of helps me going on“

That was the whole reason why you allowed Seungcheol to stay with you. It puts you at risk but it would have made your mother proud.

„When did she die?“ he asked with a low voice.

„Almost three years ago“

You saw how he did the math in his head. That you disappeared into the woods after almost a year after your mother died.

"What about your father?" he suddenly asked and dread filled your whole body und you needed to remind yourself to breath, to remind you that he isn't here. That youre safe.

If Seungcheol noticed any trace of fear within you, he didn't mention it. So you gave him a strained smile and shrugged your shoulders with feigned nonchalance. "He's an asshole."

For your own sake, you had to quickly change the subject again, so that your thoughts wouldn't get caught in a spiral of panic once more. You already shared too much informations.

„Do you want to tell me about your friends?“ you asked carefully. „How are they like?“

Relief flooded you when you saw a smile form on Seungcheols lip at the thought of his friends and just the sight of him smiling again was enough for you.

Then he started talking. Started with a men called Jeonghan and went through them one by one. He told you about the mischiefs in their younger days and how the thirteen of them had an incredible strong bond. Even of Chan, whom he hadn't seen in a very long time, he spoke with deep affection, telling you how proud he was, as a friend, to see what respectful and kind-hearted men his friends had become.

You listened to him the entire time. Laughed with him and smiled with him when he remembered.

That evening, Seungcheol left the room with a smile to go to bed.

The nightmares returned a night later.

You were shifting back and forth in the armchair, trying to find a damn comfortable position, when you heard his pained moan. Almost immediately, you freeze mid-movement, waiting with a pounding heart for another sound, because perhaps you only imagined it?

But then it came again—sounds filled with pain and despair—and you didn't hesitate for a moment. You couldn't; you could still vividly see his sorrowful eyes, or that empty gaze of his, staring into the void right before you. You didn't hesitate. With cautious steps you walked into your bedroom, only to find that while Seungcheol was indeed still asleep, he was visibly tormented by nightmares. Nightmares that made beads of sweat break out on his skin and caused his head to jerk slightly back and forth.

You bit your lower lip uncertainly as worry filled your heart, nearly strangling the air from your lungs. Seungcheol murmured countless names—names that now seemed all too familiar to you. The thought of his friends, of his mother and father, gave him no peace, and you had to wake him before some frantic movement of his would cause him to reopen his wound. That would have meant the entire last weeks would had been for nothing.

"Seungcheol," you called out cautiously, taking slow steps toward the bed. He didn't react. So you tried again, softly calling his name over and over; and when he still didn't wake up, you took the plunge and gently touched his shoulder to give him a soft shake.

Not a second later, strong hands seized you, and the air was forced from your lungs as you were slammed against the mattress with crushing force, with Seungcheol looming over you, his hands pressed firmly against your shoulders.

You didn't even have enough time to utter a single sound and, breathless, with panic in your heart and eyes wide open, you stared at the man who was pressing you firmly against the mattress and who was likely still trapped in a nightmare.

While you were just fearing for your life, your Omega purred contentedly—and you wondered if life was really trying to screw with you, because of course he slept without a shirt. But right now, you couldn't focus on his well-built torso, not when his fingers were digging painfully into you.

"Seungcheol," you said in a harsh voice, letting out a slight whimper as his fingers dug into your shoulder, leaving behind a faint, stinging pain from the pressure. You had to get him out of this damn nightmare; he had no idea what he was doing right now.

Okay, harsh words apparently aren't getting anywhere. An idea crossed your mind—one that went completely against everything you stood for, and the mere thought of it made shame bubble up inside you—but perhaps now was the right moment to listen to your instincts? Your Omega was obviously feeling at ease, so perhaps his Alpha was present as well? Maybe you shouldn't speak to Seungcheol, but rather to the being slumbering deep within him.

So you allow yourself to close your eyes for exactly one second, before opening them again and murmuring in a trembling voice, "You're hurting me."

His grip on your shoulders loosened slightly, yet Seungcheol’s eyes remained glassy, ​​and his gaze did not focus on you; instead, he continued to stare into the void, simply right through you.

"I know it hurts," you continued in a trembling voice. "I know what it’s like to lose someone—someone you thought would be by your side for a long, long time." You took a deep breath. "But you aren't alone." You looked deep into his eyes, and when you noticed a faint flicker—barely visible—it gave you the confidence to keep speaking.

"You are here. Safe. And soon you can go back and see all your friends again, but please, come back to me first." Your voice was still trembling, and summoning all your courage, you placed a hand on one of his arms. "I'm here."

A second later, Seungcheol stood upright a few steps away from the bed, breathing heavily as he braced himself against the wall.

You were still lying on the bed, your Omega disappointed that the sudden skin-to-skin contact had now been interrupted once again, and trembling, you exhaled one last time before slowly sitting up and staring uncertainly over at Seungcheol, who closed his eyes in pain and clenched his hands into fists only to open them again.

You stood up carefully, but instead of going to him, you went into the kitchen and leaned exhaustedly against the counter. You allowed yourself five seconds to close your eyes and catch your breath, giving your pounding pulse a chance to settle, before preparing a tea with soothing herbs.

The tea warmed your hands as you slowly walked back into the bedroom with two cups, where you saw Seungcheol sitting exhaustedly on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. As you entered the room, his tired eyes lifted to meet yours, and he opened his mouth but before he could say a word, you shook your head. "Just forget it," you whispered to him, your expression tense, and handed him his tea.

Doubting eyes sought yours, and when he finally took the teacup, you carefully, maintaining a respectful distance, sat down cross-legged on the floor beside the bed and took a sip from your own cup as well. You needed that calming tea at least just as much as he did.

You leaned cautiously against the bed, and—finding you really couldn't think of anything better to break the silence—you asked in a tentative voice: "A question for a question?"

It sounded like an amused snort coming from Seungcheol, though you could have been mistaken. Then he hummed in agreement, and you looked up at him seriously. "But only trivial questions."

"And what would those be?" he mumured with raised eyebrows, the cup of tea still undrunk in his hands.

"What's your favorite color?", you suggested and when he didn't answer for a few seconds you turned around slightly to look up to him, "Dont you have a favourite color?"

"Who doesn't have a favourite color?" he asked back and you shook your head confused.

"Youre the one who's not answering the question."

"Because you could ask anything and you chose to ask about my favourite color" he scoffed back.

"It says alot about a person!" you argued and placed your mug down on the floor.

Seungcheol only looked at you with raised eyebrows, as if he can't believe about the topic you both are arguing about. But then he gave up.

"Black."

"Thats not a color", you immediatly replied and shook your head and he closed his eyes and sighed excessively loud, but you saw the suspicious forming of an amused smile on his lips.

"And why is that not a color?" he asked as he repositioned himself in bed, now leaning against the headboard. And you had to grudgingly admit that you once again had a perfect view of his bare torso. Seungcheol certainly noticed this as well—but even so, it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

You quickly averted your gaze again and took a sip of your tea—which was still far too hot—and choked so violently that you had to cough several times, bringing tears to your eyes.

You looked at him again and saw only his amused gaze as he watched you, and you quickly cleared your throat. "Because black is merely the absence of light. And I asked you for your favorite color, not whether you prefer dark or light."

"What's your favorite color then, smart-ass?" he asked with a hint of a smile and a challenging gaze settled in his dark eyes.

You couldn't help but grin up to him. "White."

Whether it was the sheer absurdity of the situation or something else, you both burst out laughing at the exact same moment. Seungcheol closed his eyes with a grin on his face and leaned his head back against the rest. "You're really one of a kind, Daisy."

A smile spread across your lips, and you were glad he didn't notice your cheek turn slightly red as you held up your tea mug and took another sip.

You spent the next few hours asking trivial questions. You learned about his favorite animal, his most embarrassing moment, and countless other things that didn't reveal too much about either of you.

Eventually, however, fatigue caught up with you once again, and it was only a matter of time before you drifted off to sleep on the floor, leaning against the bed.

You were already deep in the realm of dreams when Seungcheol slowly and carefully climbed out of your bed, gently lifted you up with his strong hands, and laid you down in your bed.

One might think that a whispered "Thank you, Daisy" still reached you through your dreams—though that was something you would no longer remember.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

After that night, something visibly changed between you and Seungcheol—and if Seungcheol was honest, he liked this side of you much more.

You talked to him much more now, no longer giving answers that consisted of just a single word. You shared countless facts with him about your various flowers, and Seungcheol quickly realized that he enjoyed listening to you. He liked it when your eyes lit up with enthusiasm, or when you bit your lip in concentration while working in your garden or experimenting with herbs in the kitchen.

Seungcheol would let you explain which specific herbs were good for what, and one time, you even let him create his own tea blend from scratch. It tasted absolutely dreadful—and you tried your best to convince him that it wasn't actually that bad for a first attempt—but in the end, you both spat it out after taking just one more sip. You both laughed so hard that you had to steady yourself against the kitchen counter, while Seungcheol had to be careful not to strain his throbbing wound.

These were the moments Seungcheol liked the most.

But it wasn't just your behavior and state of mind that had changed; Seungcheol, too, was now sleeping much better and finding more peace. The reason for this was—once again—you; the words spoken that night sometimes played on a continuous loop in his mind.

Come back to me first. I'm here.

The words had a grounding effect on him and his thoughts; yet, apparently, they had also burrowed deep into the needs of his Alpha. The latter, it seemed, was taking an ever-growing interest in you, throbbing brazenly within him. By now, he felt an increasingly intense urge to discover what you truly were—even though Seungcheol was astute enough to surmise that there was likely a good reason why you kept it hidden. To his Alpha, however, that didn't seem to matter much at all.

But Seungcheol said nothing, nor did he ask any questions. The days passed in peaceful tranquility, and he wanted to preserve that calm. By now, the two of you took turns, one sleeping in the bed at night, the other spending the night in the armchair.

It was a sunny day and Seungcheol had just freshened up when a sweet yet panicky scent forced him to stop, and the alpha within him howled demandingly. Seungcheol's eyes turned to your figure, which frantically opened all the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, searching for something but apparently finding nothing.

And then, finally, he caught your scent.

Finally smelled what you truly were.

An Omega - a sweet scented Omega had saved his life and helped nurse him back to health.

Seungcheol forced himself to hold his breath for a few seconds and rein in the demanding Alpha within him, but everything inside him screamed at him to help you, to dispel the panic coursing through your limbs and clinging to your scent.

You let out a sound of sheer desperation, leaning against the kitchen counter as you let your head hang, then ran your hand over your face.

That sound nearly brought Seungcheol to his knees, while his alpha pleaded him to help you shake off your despair—to take care of his sweet little Omega.

But he forced himself to pull himself together and carefully cleared his throat. "Daisy?"

You spun around to face him, leaning your back against the counter as if you wanted to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

Seungcheol’s heart gave a slight pang, and he tried to ignore the hurt—but he wasn’t your Alpha. He had no right to feel offended.

Then you cleared your throat, and the look of desperation vanished from your face so quickly that Seungcheol’s concern only deepened. "M-Morning!" you chirped in an overly cheerful voice, turning back around to reach with trembling hands for whatever random herbs you could find to make tea.

But this time, Seungcheol wouldn’t let it go. Not when he could still clearly see how you were shaking. "Daisy, what’s wrong?" he asked in a firm voice, taking a cautious step toward you.

"N-Nothing!" you replied quickly, nodding toward the table. "Go ahead and sit down; I'll bring you some tea in a moment and change your compress!" You turned back around, and Seungcheol furrowed his brows.

Something was terribly wrong.

This time his alpha won. He stood before you with quick steps and gently grasped your shoulders, quite unlike the night you rescued him from the nightmare. He carefully turned you around to face him, and with wide eyes you looked up at him, tensing up and seemingly not breathing.

"Let me help you" he breathed softly and your lips trembled. "Tell me what's wrong and we'll find a solution."

He didn't take his eyes off you for the few seconds you were thinking before you quietly said: "My Pyperus herbs are nearly finished and I thought I still had some in here but I can't find them."

Seungcheol looked around the kitchen, which looked like utter chaos, before nodding. "Do you urgently need the herbs?"

"I have some today and tomorrow, but then they'll all be gone." You pressed your lips together, and Seungcheol didn't ask what kind of herbs they were or why you needed them so badly. He nodded and released your shoulders, but remained standing in front of you. "Do you think we can get some from the village? I think I have enough strength again to cover longer distances."

After a few seconds, you nodded weakly, and Seungcheol brushed a loose strand of your hair away from your face and murmured, "Lie down again, rest. I'll clean up here."

You offered no resistance, and the Alpha within Seungcheol purred at your obedience, before Seungcheol once again ignored it, watching as you left the room and closed the door behind you.

And so, here he was; with his Alpha, who seemed to have fixated on an Omega who wanted anything but companionship.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Tears welled in your eyes as you laid in bed, reflecting on the situation that had just unfolded in the kitchen.

You had taken such great care to ensure you had a massive stockpile, spending days gathering these very herbs back then, long before a gravely injured Seungcheol had landed on your doorstep. Precisely so you would never again face the problem that was now slowly rearing its head once more.

You had known the moment you opened your eyes this morning that your Omega instincts were more restless than usual. Far too restless. Your pulse had quickened the instant you rose from bed; you had hurried to the kitchen with rapid strides, feeling such immense relief that Seungcheol wasn't in the room at that moment, thinking you could simply down your tea laced with the suppressant herbs, and then everything would be fine again.

Until you saw that you had only two left. Two. Which was far too few.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out how the hell you could have failed to notice that your supply was running low. After all, didn't you take the herbs every single day? Had Seungcheol used some when he first tried his hand at brewing tea? Had you been so utterly consumed by life these past few days—so distracted by the joy and inner peace you felt—that you had lost the ability to think logically and simply repressed the fact that your damn stockpile was nearly depleted?

And now he knew what you were, exactly what you had been trying to avoid from the very beginning. You squeezed your eyes shut in desperation, trying to drown out your father’s words; words that had been relentlessly swirling through your mind ever since earlier.

"Be a good girl and do what Omegas do—obey him. You will ensure that your stepmother and I can live a good life; isn't that what you want? Be a good Omega, Y/N."

Angrily, you bit down on your lower lip, and when you tasted the metallic tang of blood, you buried your face even deeper into the pillow. By now, it smelled far too strongly of Seungcheol—a scent that worked in direct opposition to the effects of the herb. Your Omega refused to be still. Refused to be suppressed. She wanted him. Her Alpha.

It’s a shame that you would never allow things to go that far, no matter how much you might suffer in the process.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The next day, the two of you set off for the village.

Early this morning, you used up your very last leaf and drank your tea with trembling hands. You constantly evaded Seungcheol’s gaze, ceaselessly fighting against your hammering pulse and surging blood.

Seungcheol had no idea how to help, what to say to make you feel at least a little bit better, or which words would help you calm down.

So he said nothing and walked silently beside you through the forest.

You had pulled up the hood of your jacket, and the closer you drew to the village, the more tense you—and he—became. What if Sinyoung soldiers were there and recognized him? How should he protect himself with this wound and more imporant, how should he protect you in that process?

His gaze drifted toward you.

You, too, apparently wanted to avoid being recognized at all costs—though Seungcheol did not know the reason why. But it wasn't his place to know, anyway.

They each had but a single objective: you were to buy your herbs, and he was to write his letter.

Just before you stepped out of the forest, you nodded in a specific direction. "Keep to the right at the marketplace and go into the pink building. You can write your letter there."

Seungcheol followed your gaze and nodded in agreement before turning his eyes back to you. "Where will I find you?"

You pointed toward the center of the marketplace, where a massive tree provided shade for the market. "I'll be waiting for you under the tree. It shouldn't take long with the herbs." You adjusted your basket on your arm once more.

Then you looked up at him with a sad smile, and Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat at your next words. "I know how important your letter is to you, but…" you hesitated, then looked at him pleadingly, "please don't mention my home, okay?"

Seungcheol nodded and murmured, „I'll just write that I'm alive."

"Promise?" you asked with a soft whisper and Seungcheols heart clenched.

"Promise."

You nodded in relief and then set off toward the herbs. Seungcheol watched you go for a few seconds, his heart already heavy with the weight of the promise, and then made his own way to the post station.

He did not address the letter by name. He knew exactly what he had to write, or to whom he had to address it, to ensure it reached his friends.

Seungcheol stood facing the wall, penning his letter in rapid strokes. He wrote that he was alive; he asked if everyone was well and if they had all managed to find a hiding place. He asked if they had heard anything from Chan. He wrote that he wanted to return soon, but that they needed a plan, and—

Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut in despair. He was a king. He had a kingdom to save from this tyrant, yet he had also made a promise to you. And your eyes—god, your pleading eyes when you begged him not to mention anything about your home—how could he possibly do that to you?

But he did not know if his mother was still alive. He did not know if his friends were safe.

He remembered the screames from the day they were attacked; the blood filling the ground and the lifeless eyes staring up to the sky. The head of his father, rolling across the floor.

"A king does not simply give up, Seungcheol. He stands tall and defends his people. For they are our entire pride."

The words of his father ringed and his ear and Seungcheol made a decision.

He had to face his responsibility as a king. Even if it meant letting you down.

He wrote one final sentence and then handed in the letter.

There is a man laying in your front garden - bleeding to death.

What’s even worse, he is an alpha who is bleeding to death.

The sight made you freeze mid-motion, and your eyes did not let the man leave your sight for a single second.

The scent radiating of him made you dizzy because you didn’t had an encounter with anyone in a really long time. Especially not with an damn alpha.

You forced your breath to calm itself and the omega in you roared furiously because it longed for attention and care. But that didn’t matter. It never mattered to you. You had more important things to focus on.

Panicked, your gaze darted left and right to see if anyone else could have found you—which, in reality, shouldn't be possible. You had managed to stay undercover for two whole years. Was everything you had endured now simply going to be over?

Your heartbeat only slowly calmed down as you realized the bleeding man was the only person around.

You thought about going into your hut again, forgeting about him in your front yard and continuing your peaceful day like nothing happened. But you knew already that it was a lost case.

"We always have to help for those in need, my dear." Your mothers voice rang in your ears and you feel like you will suffocate right here and now just thinking about her.

You really are your mothers daughter so you approached the man with quick steps, claiming your future with this decision.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

You left him lying with his fresh stitched up wound in your front yard.

At least he wasn't bleeding out anymore, though every few minutes you glanced out your window to see if he was still lying there and that you didnt imagine him in your head. Everytime you looked out he was still there, his chest going up and down with each breath he took.

A hard reminder that this wasn't just a sick dream.

But after all, your daily routine had to go on, didn't it? You had your plants to tend to; you would probably be sadder if one of them died than you were about the man in your front yard.

As you were out in your backyard, watering your plants and home-grown vegetables, your thoughts swirled inside your head, so loudly, in fact, that you failed to notice the pained, groaning sounds. It wasn't until you went back inside your cottage and saw the man who was supposed to be lying in your front yard instead leaning against your front door, that you let out a startled scream.

Without a second thought, you grabbed the nearest available weapon and now stood facing him—armed with a weed puller. It seemed rather ridiculous, but you were certain you could inflict significant damage with it, should the man even entertain the idea of ​​attacking you.

He, however, breathing heavily, leaned against the doorframe. And would your heart not pound so wildly again, you might have thought that an amused glint flickered in his eyes. Yet he merely raised his hands slowly, his face contorted in pain.

"I’d rather you didn’t skewer me with that thing there."

"Have you ever heard of knocking?!" you demanded indignantly, not daring to lower your weed-whacker.

"I would have knocked if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that you were the one who probably put me back together.", he looked at you and your weapon of choice in your hand and nodded towards it, "If I had known that you want to kill me now after saving my life I would rather leave now."

Your eyes immediately went to his injured side and thousands of emotions swirled inside you. To your misfortune, the omega buried deep inside you purred in delight at the sight of the Alpha and you breathed in annoyed. You ignored his remark and the stupid omega inside you and wondered how the hell he is able to stand with this kind of wound he has.

The wound you tended to was deep, and… you took a closer look at him.

It took every ounce of his strength to remain upright. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his hands repeatedly clenched into fists as if the mere thought of lying helplessly on the ground again would cause him even greater pain.

Slowly you lowered your „weapon" and eyed him cautiously before nodding your chin towards a chair. He was still hurt, you reminded yourself and that thought alone calmed you down even a little bit. "Sit down. You’re about to collapse again."

A scoff escaped his lips. "It takes a lot more than that to knock me out."

You stared at him, your expression completely blank. "Bold words coming from someone whose life I saved just today." You gestured toward the chair once more. "Do us both a favor and sit down, so my efforts aren't wasted and your wound doesn't reopen."

His gaze darted back and forth before—presumably—the logical part of his brain won , and he slowly walked over to the chair and let himself sink into it. His face relaxed almost immediately, and you couldn't help but scoff. "So it doesn't take that much after all," you muttered, and with the weed-puller in your hand, you took a few steps closer.

"Whoa, get away from me with that thing!" he breathed out and looked at you with wide eyes and you rolled your eyes annoyed.

"I need to look at your wound so it doesnt get infected!" you argued and held up your weed-puller, "this is just for my own protection."

"And who is that thing supposed to protect you from?" He asked while looking at you like you’ve became insane for even pointing with it at him.

"You. I dont know you." you answered defensively and crossed your arms in front of your chest. He didnt respond, only looked at you with slightly widened and confused eyes.

"What?"

"You dont know me?" He asked carefully and his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He doesnt believe you.

"Should I?" Sarcasm dripped in your voice and gestured at him to lift up his shirt. But he didnt move, his eyes still sceptically on you and you had the feeling you'll loose all your nerves with this man in front of you.

„Do I have to know you to see your wound?“ The annoyance inside you was clearly on the table now and to your dismay, an amusing glint appeared in his dark eyes.

„Demanding little thing, aren‘t you?“

Your eyes shined with anger and wordlessly you held up your weed-puller and even if it’s just for the joke or if he’s really scared you‘ll stab him with it, he sighed and lifted his shirt up.

„Well, thank you“ you sighed and let the weed-puller fall down on the floor while your eyes examined the neat line of stitches. You did a pretty well job for such a big gash and it didn’t seemed to be infected. At least one good thing that worked today.

„I‘ll make you a compress with some plants that will help the healing“ you mumured and made your way to your little kitchen sink. „That way you‘ll heal faster“ And with that leave faster.

You pretended to didn’t notice the way his eyes stare at the back of your head or how they wandered through the room. You tried to focus on making the compress until a question from him made you freeze.

„Whats your name?“

„I‘ll tell you mine if you tell me yours“ you said without thinking much and almost immediately cursed yourself out internally. You didn’t want to know him. And you certainly don’t want him to know your name.

Maybe it was the starved omega in you that made you behave like that. You made a note for yourself to drink a fresh tea of cyperus leaves later to suppress your omega needs again. The cyperus plant was a lifesaver to you. It help you with your heat, suppressing it until you almost had no problems with it at all, but it seemed the presence of the alpha brings everything down to zero.

Another reason why he needs to leave as soon as possible.

„I don’t think that’s a fair deal“ he only muttered and laid his head back against the wall.

„Are you a wanted criminal or something like that?“ You asked with a scoff.

He hummed tiredly and just shook his head. „Worse.“

You turned your head around and looked at him, truly looked at him for a few seconds. His dark eyes shined in a devastating sadness as he stared up the wall and the empathy in you screamed to help him.

That’s also a trait from your mother like the saying that you‘ll need to help someone who truly needs it.

And this man almost screamed quietly for help.

You blame your dead mother for your next words.

„You can call me Daisy.“

It wasn’t your real name but it was not nothing. His eyes immediately went back to yours and a glitter of peace appeared in them.

„Thank your for saving me, Daisy.“

The nickname on his tongue made you shiver and before he could notice you quickly turned around again, finishing up the compress. You just wanted to turn around to attach it to him, when his voice mumured again in your little hut.

„Seungcheol.“

„Huh?“ You looked at him confused.

„Call me Seungcheol.“

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol went through a lot in his not so long life. Being the only heir of the empire of Noxtus was one thing filled with countless duties, endless expectations and the constant pressure to become a king that is worth to rule its kingdom.

It wasn't necessarily hard for him. He had his loving parents and with that the perfect example how a kingdom should be ruled. He had his closest friends, always having his back and besides their mischieves in their younger days they've all become respecatble men and Seungcheol could see the bright future of him and his loved ones living happily in Noxtus.

Until Lunaria striked at them.

Seungcheol was incredibly lucky that he happened to be training with Mingyu at the time of the ambush. This allowed him to use his sword to take out a considerable number of charging soldiers—and he was truly naive enough to think that they would all make it out unscathed and put the enemy to flight.

That was seconds before he went up to the castle wall to see actually how many soldiers were attacking his kingdom. Before he saw how his father fought bravely against the intruders and failed. Before he saw how the head of his father rolled across the stone and the eyes of his murderer locked onto Seungcheols.

Lee Sinyoung. New King of Lunaria, previously a significant ally of Noxtus.

A fucking traitor.

Everything happened fast after that. He felt hands tugging at him and he saw the frantic eyes of Joshua while voices screamed at him to flee.

Seungcheol was never more confused in his life. How could he flee? How could he leave his people behind - his responsibility?

His friends were lucky that he was still in shock seeing his beheaded father because in no world he would allow them to seat himself onto his horse and force him to flee. He would rather die defending his country than flee like a coward.

"Seungcheol, listen!" Jeonghans hissed and the screams of dying soldiers bleeded in Seungcheols ears. He had to force himself to listen to one of his best friends.

"You are going to die if you stay here.", Jeonghan argued and looked over his shoulders. Joshua and Seungkwan stood before the two of them, guarding them so no one would intervene.

"You all will be dead if I leave" Seungcheol argued back and the damn screams of pain didnt stop-

Jeonghan shook his head and Seungcheol wondered if the day has come that his best friend truly had lost his mind. "We'll be hiding. All of us. You know they wont find us."

A pained expression filled Seungcheols face and Jeonghan smiled up to him while patting the back of Salute, Seungcheols loyal horse. "We'll be fine. Hide and we'll make a plan to get your kingdom back."

"Jeonghan-"

"Go!" His friend screamed at him as new invaders reached them and his friends immediatly striked against them. Seungcheol had to force himself to look away and what was even more important, to not look back as he made the decision to flee. He never hated himself more.

Fate, too, seemed to have something against his decision; for just as he reached the forests of Fyndor, two soldiers from Lunaria emerged, men who had evidently taken up the pursuit.

So, right here, Seungcheol had another chance to prove himself. After all, he was now the King of Noxtus—whether he was within his kingdom or not. He would be damned if two mere foot soldiers from Lunaria were to be the reason he ended up dying.

He chose to fight and the years of training with Mingyu and Hansol by his side had paid off. They were hardly worthy opponents for him, two Alphas who repeatedly attempted with sloppy movements to inflict the greatest possible damage upon him. They didn't fight with their heads; they didn't think the way Seungcheol did.

Minutes later, they laid half-dead on the ground before him, and Seungcheol trembled with barely contained rage. With a swift motion of his hand, he wiped his opponent’s blood from his cheek; then, with powerful hands, he took the helm of the shirt of the man before him and dragged him closer.

"What is he planning?" Seungcheol didn't even have to utter a name before the dying man spat out blood with a grin.

"King Sinyoung spoke of the great empire of Lunaria—and he mentioned you spineless wimps from Noxtus. You aren't worthy of leading an entire nation."

Satisfaction played out in the eyes of the man before him, and Seungcheol couldn't help but scoff, gritting the words through his teeth: "Your king will die. I don't care how long I have to hunt him down. He will pay for what he did to my people."

The man before him seemed as if he could not possibly be any more satisfied. He let out a raspy laugh, even as blood continued to trickle from his mouth. His teeth no longer appeared white; with a bloody grin, the man looked up at Seungcheol and simply whispered, "For that, you’ll have to survive today first."

Seungcheol had no time to react to the words, for a searing pain coursed through his right side. He immediately released the man, who tumbled to the ground laughing, and Seungcheol spun around just as a third soldier withdrew his sword from Seungcheol’s side, the blade glowing red with his blood.

"Does a king bleed any differently than we soldiers do, your highness?", the beta asked with a grin and wielded his sword against Seungcheol again. They both tripped into the direction of Salute and the poor horse was cut from the blade of the men before it turned away and ran into the woods, leaving his owner alone fighting for his life.

Seungcheol hoisted his own sword just in time with the attacks of the enemy, clutching his bleeding right side the whole time. He had to ignore the pain and then somehow stop the bleeding immediately. But first, he had to get rid of this runt.

He must have been guided by some higher power. Seungcheol truly could not explain otherwise how he was able to fight with such a wound and withstand the strong blows of his opponent.

But Seungcheol had always been good at enduring. Discipline had been a virtue of his father—one he had always placed great value upon.

"A king does not simply give up, Seungcheol," he reminded himself of his father's words. "He stands tall and defends his people. For they are our entire pride."

So Seungcheol stood tall, even with a life-threatening wound. His efforts were rewarded by fate, it seemed. In a moment of carelessness of the beta Seungcheol managed to slash his blade across his throat. Gasping for breath, the beta collapsed onto the forest floor and wasted his final words with false hopes: "Long live King Sinyoung."

Seungcheol stared at the three dead men laying before his feet and he swore by the sun, the moon, and the stars that he would unleash hell on earth upon everyone who had taken everything from him today.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol leaned unconsciously against the wall, sitting uncomfortably in the chair, and for exactly one second, you wondered whether you should go though the trouble of somehow dragging him into your only bed. A glance at his wound, however, settled the matter relatively quickly. You had absolutely no desire for it to reopen in any way—his stumbling around earlier had been risky enough as it was.

It was no wonder at all that he had fallen back asleep almost immediately after your conversation. He must have been in unbearable pain, and his body now needed a period of recovery. The thought of how long that might take troubled you immensely.

You wanted him to leave. You didn't need a wounded Alpha here in your little hideout. That would only bring you the kind of trouble you had steadily managed to avoid for the past two years. But you wouldn't kick an injured person out the door and leave them to fend for themselves. And apparently, he was all alone, with those dark, sad eyes of his, and that damn desperate look from before just wouldn't leave your mind.

So you made the decision to get him back on his feet as quickly as possible. Every hour, you changed the compresses on his right side and kept the tea—steeped with basil, chamomile, and thyme—warm so that he could drink it the moment he woke up. You knew that healing required time and patience—qualities you didn't exactly possess. As far as you were concerned, he could drink two liters in one go if there was even a chance that doing so would make him disappear just as quickly as he had arrived.

The sun was just setting, and you stood in the kitchen, gently stirring your mushroom soup, when a pained groan sounded from behind you. You slowly turned your head towards Seungcheol, who was slowly propping himself up a little, grimacing as he slowly rotated his head to work out the stiffness caused by his uncomfortable position. Your hand immediately reached for a warm cup of the tea you had brewed for him before you strode quickly to stand before him, in your other hand the weed puller, which still served as your safe anchor against this stranger. "Here. Drink this," you commanded, holding the steaming cup up to his face.

His eyes drifted from the weed puller to the cup in your hand and with raised eyebrows. He looked up at you clearing his throat and then carefully took the cup from you. You gave it to him in such way that your hands definitely wouldn't touch, and the stupid Omega inside you growled angrily because of that. It was already hard enough for you when you were changing these damn compresses, his skin burning under your finger tips and you had to stop a few times because it was just too much. You hadn't touched another soul in two years and now this.

Another mental note to drink an extra portion of your cyperus tea. You've already drank one a few hours ago but your omega just wont shut up.

Seungcheol took a cautious sip of the tea, and just as you turned around to continue stirring the soup, he immediately spat out the tea you had brewed yourself.

"Hey! I spent hours brewing that specifically for you, you moron!" you cried out indignantly, glaring furiously at him as he stared at the tea with a look of utter disgust.

"What is this?" he asked, coughing, and you shook your head disdainfully. "Herbs to help you recover faster. Drink it—now."

Only after he had completely drained the cup and took a deep breath, you nod in satisfaction and took the cup back from him. "Dinner is almost ready," you murmured, turning back around—now acutely aware of just how small your cabin actually was. For one person, it was perfect; but for two? Where was he even supposed to sleep? He was injured; naturally you would give him the bed. That meant several nights for you in your reading armchair, which stood in the back corner of the room. Great.

Seungcheol too seemed to be hyperaware of the situation he is in, as he stayed quiet and said nothing to you while you were preparing dinner.

A few minutes later, you set the soup down on the small table and sat down across from him, letting the weed puller drop beside your plate. Seungcheol’s eyes immediately locked onto it, and this time, you could clearly make out the amusement on his face.

"Don't you think I would have attacked you long ago if that were my intention?" he asked in a raspy voice; you merely shrugged, your cold eyes fixed on him.

"Better safe than sorry." You began to eat, but he simply continued to stare at you, not even glancing down at his soup. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you turned your gaze back to him. "Do I fascinate you so much that your brain has stopped working? Eat. You need to get well." You nodded toward the soup sitting in front of him.

"You haven't spoken to anyone in a long time, have you?" he asked suddenly, and, caught off guard, you narrowed your eyes.

"How would you know that?" you retorted defiantly, tilting your head. "Maybe I get visitors every week."

"You only have one proper plate." Seungcheol nodded toward his own plate, where his soup remained untouched, and then his eyes shifted to your mug. "You're eating soup out of a large mug, and I watched you spend nearly three minutes searching for a second spoon."

Caught red-handed, you pressed your lips together, then shrugged. "Okay, you've got me. But why should you care?"

"I want to know who the person is who saved my life today." His dark eyes fixed upon you, and were you not so stubborn, you would flee into another room right now and simply barricade yourself in. But this was your house. Your right to defend yourself—to protect yourself.

"There is nothing you need to know about me," was all you replied, taking another spoonful of your soup.

Seungcheol scoffed. "You really know how to hold an conversation." Sarcasm dripped in his voice. "Isn't there always something interesting to know about other people?"

"Not in my case." Your voice was colder than you intended, and you felt a strong urge to change the subject.

"Maybe you could tell me something about the person whose life I saved today." A shadow crossed his eyes, and you smiled at him triumphantly. He wanted to talk about himself just as little as you wanted to talk about yourself.

His teeth bit his lower lip for a few seconds, and your gaze flickered towards it before you swiftly looked away and finished your soup.

"So you don't get many visitors. I guess I'm the first. How long have you been living here?" Seungcheol tried again and finally began to eat his soup. You poured him another cup of tea, pondering whether or not you should answer him. After all, he would be staying here for some time, and apparently, he truly had no intention of attacking you, nor did he have any idea who you were. That was something you could work with.

It didn’t help that you were curious about his situation, too. How did he even got his wound? And who exactly is the man who is sitting here and now in your safe little hut?

"A question for a question," you proposed, setting the fresh cup of tea down beside his plate. Seungcheol nodded, and you gave him the answer to his first question: "Two years."

He nodded thoughtfully and continued eating. You sank back into the chair opposite him. "Who inflicted that wound on you?" You gestured toward his right side.

"Enemy soldiers," was his reply, and you studied him thoughtfully. That could mean many things. Nothing about him suggested any connection to a kingdom. He wore no armor, and nowhere was an emblem to be seen and the sword that he carried with him (and you hid) also showed no belonging to a specifical kingdom.

"Are they dead?" you asked with a quiet voice and Seungcheol's eyes landed on you again.

"Yes."

You nodded, relief flooded your veins. "Good."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol couldn't figure you out. To begin with, there was your scent. You smelled of nothing. The Alpha within him was extremely restless, practically commanding him to find out what was wrong with you—why he couldn't classify what you were.

Then there was your manner. You looked after him, regularly changed his compresses, and refilled his tea every minute. But as soon as he spoke to you, your only responses were short and cold.

Seungcheol wouldn't exactly describe himself as charming, but he wasn't actually bad at dealing with new people. After all, he was a prince—now a king—so he had to be good at getting along with strangers. But with you, there was a towering wall, and he could practically feel you shutting him out. He just didn't understand why.

You could have simply let him die. But you didn't. And now he was bound to you in this hut, and he had to write a secret letter to find out how his kingdom was doing, how his friends were doing. Had everyone escaped? Had everyone truly managed to hide? Is Salute alright? These thoughts nearly drove him mad.

The only distraction available is a conversation with you—and that turned out to be more impossible than expected.

One question in exchange for another had been enough for you; you likely didn't want to know anything more from him, for you changed his compress once again, your body rigid with extreme tension, without even meeting his eyes.

The Alpha within Seungcheol stirred restlessly, and Seungcheol wondered what the hell was going on.

At least one thing was clear to Seungcheol: You didn't have the faintest clue who he was. If you had even the slightest inkling, you never would have allowed him to stay in your cabin for so long, not with how guarded and cautious you were.

So he simply had to remain quiet about his true identity, wait until he was healthy again, and then return to Noxtus as quickly as possible.

Once you were finished, you threw away the bloody compress and nodded towards another room.

"Lie down and sleep. You won't recover if you sit in that chair the whole time."

His eyes followed yours and confused he asked, "And where will you sleep?" He couldn't take a woman's only bed away from her.

"You don't have to worry about that," you merely murmured—and Seungcheol had never encountered a person as stubborn as you. And that was really saying something; after all he had often debated fight strategies with Minghao, and that too was anything but easy.

"I can just stay here-"

"Seungcheol." The sound of his name on your tongue made the blood freeze in his veins, and his Alpha stirred restlessly within him, as if he couldn't quite gauge whether he wanted to hear his name from your lips once more, or would rather never hear it again. Confusion coursed through Seungcheol as he tried to focus on your words.

"Please just go to bed now and sleep. You look like you're about to collapse again, and rest is what your body needs most right now." you argued with what almost seemed like a soft voice and the unspoken words filled the room. I dont need your worry. I can fend for myself.

Even though he found it difficult, Seungcheol knew when a battle was over and when not to push things too far. He saw the exhaustion on your face; after all, you had spent the entire day looking after him. That only made him feel more guilty about taking your bed now.

"One night", he croaked out and cleared his throat. "I'm not taking it longer than needed."

He saw how your nod and then gathered all his strength to rise carefully to his feet. It took him a moment to find his balance before he began walking slowly and cautiously towards the other room. Pain racked his entire right side, and beads of sweat were already glistening on his forehead once again, when suddenly the weight on his left side was slightly lifted and it became easier to walk. He looked down at you in astonishment, saw that you were now supporting him with your delicate hands, your gaze fixed intently straight ahead.

Wherever your skin touched his, his flesh seemed to burn and for at least a brief moment, the searing pain from his wound was somehow forgotten. Seungcheol’s alpha perked up with curiosity, and his entire attention focused on the places where your skin touched, as if it would leave visible marks.

All of this made absolutely no sense at all, why his alpha, or furthermore he, reacted that way considering he didn't even know what you were. An Omega hiding behind a massive protective wall? An Alpha freely asserting her dominance? Or perhaps a Beta who simply wanted to live in peace and solitude in her cabin?

Yet Seungcheol recalled that his inner alpha had never been so curious about another person before; and a few minutes later, as he laid in your bed, completely enveloped by your sweet lingering scent, peaceful sleep finally claimed him for the first time since the attack.

(While he laid in bed, sleeping peacefully, you rushed to your small, hidden drawer in the kitchen and quickly brewed yourself a fresh tea made with Cyperus leaves; and even though it was still scalding hot, you downed it in a flash—hoping that the screaming Omega within you would finally fall silent.)

Seungcheol woke up the next morning feeling much better than he had the day before. Apparently, you had already changed his compress; a glance at his bandaged wound told him everything he needed to know. Carefully, he sat up and, with soft steps, left the room, only to find the cabin empty. His gaze swept searchingly across the windows, and there you were, standing in the backyard, harvesting some vegetables.

It didn't take long before you noticed him. You regarded him with an appraising look, then nodded back toward the cabin. "Freshen up. I'll make us some breakfast in a moment." Then you turned back around; apparently, your resolve not to speak to Seungcheol remained unchanged.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

"Is there a village nearby?" Seungcheols voice cut through the quietness of your garden as you tended to your herbs and plants while he sat on a chair, enjoying a few minutes of fresh air before you would tell him to lay down again.

That was your established routine the last week. Eat with him, change his compress, force him to drink the tea and them command him to sleep. You could feel his restless energy but the first signs of improvement were already becoming apparent.

He was now able to stay awake for much longer, and short walks no longer took a toll on him. Bad for you, because he started seeking conversation with you much more often.

"Yeah, about half a mile to the west," you murmured back. Perhaps this was finally the first sign that he wanted to leave. Although his wound was already improving, his general condition still gave you cause for concern at times—especially when he tossed and turned in your bed while sleeping, constantly murmuring various names. Nightmares plagued him day in and day out; and even if it seemed as though he was slowly but surely recovering physically, the same could not be said for his state of mind.

By now, you had started giving him tea with special herbs in the evenings to help him get a better night's sleep. It worked only moderately well.

"I would like to go there. I have to write an important letter."

Your piercing eyes bored into him. "To whom?"

"Why do you need to know?" He asked calmly.

"Because I don't need anyone to come here," you shot back, turning back to your plants.

Seungcheol remained silent for a few seconds before his quiet voice once again broke the silence. "No one will come. I just want to let someone know that I'm alive."

Feelings of guilt stirred deep within you, and with a sigh, you closed your eyes for a few moments. You would do anything to preserve your own safety, but Seungcheol had just barely escaped death. He had the right to let someone know. You couldn't take that away from him.

Your eyes turned back to him, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. And he looked broken. Dark circles ringed his handsome face, his dark hair fell into his brown eyes, and everything inside you screamed that an Alpha—any Alpha—should not look like this. Most likely, it was your hormone-driven Omega screaming this at you but you allowed yourself to listen to it for the first time. Helping, that is something you could do.

So you muttered softly to him: "Give yourself enough time to rest and then I'll show you the village."

And apparently, that was enough for Seungcheol, for a deep sense of calm now radiated from him.

He joined you more and more in the garden. Three days after your conversation about the village you found yourself planting new herbs to your collection and a shadow laid itself over you. You felt his eyes watching you and while you tried to ignore his presence behind you it became harder and harder to do exactly that.

You sat back and looked up to him from the ground. His eyes didnt leave the herbs and he nodded to your bed full of your goods. "I also had many beds at home but none of them looked even close like yours."

"Is that an compliment or an insult?" you asked with a scoff and continued to look up to him.

A mischivious glint appeared in his eyes. "It depends how confindent you are in your doings."

"Then its clearly a compliment."

Seungcheol huffed amused and then, to your suprise, he slowly lets himself down beside you in the grass. You pressed your lips lightly together and before you could even think what the hell you were doing, you took the herb you just wanted to plant in in your hands and rambled: "This is vervain. It has fever-reducing and antispasmodic effects."

When Seungcheol responded nothing a red veil of shame settled on your cheek. What the hell? Where did that come from now?

But Seungcheol nodded encouragingly with a faint smile, then gestured with his chin toward the herb in your hand. "Does it have a meaning?"

"Good fortune," you murmured, and you were just about to plant it when the question burning on your tongue already escaped your lips: "Do you want to give it a try?"

Seungcheol looked at you with feigned surprise. "I don't want my wound to reopen.", a sarcastic undertone laid on his words and you rolled your eyes amused.

"I'll get a medal for you if you manage to do"

Seungcheol grinned in amusement, then carefully took the herb from your hand and looked somewhat helplessly down at the garden bed below him. "I've never done anything like this before…" he confessed hesitantly.

With raised eyebrows, you looked at him with amusement. "Just set it in the hole, pile some soil around it so it stands firm, and then pat the earth down. It's not magic."

"You say so. It always looks so easy when you do it," he remarked as he carefully placed the Vervain in the ground. You watched every of slightest movement, letting his words race through your mind. Had he been watching you plant every single time he sat outside recently? And why did that thought alone make you shy and restless? Gardening was your element. You knew how to handle your plants, and just because someone was watching you that shouldnt throw you off balance.

Seungcheol asked you a question that snapped you out of your thoughts in an instant. Caught off guard, you stared at him, tilting your head slightly in a questioning manner. Seungcheol nodded toward the planted vervain and repeated his question: "Is this okay?"

You looked down at it, and an amused scoff escaped your lips. "You buried it a little too deep." Carefully, you shoveled some soil aside to set the herb a bit higher.

Seungcheol snorted and leaned back again. "Well, seems like I'm a lost case."

"Now you’re exaggerating," you replied with amusement, gazing at the plant with a smile. "Gardening isn't about right or wrong. It’s about effort, patience, and gentleness." You gestured toward the many blooming flowers all around you. "It’s a give-and-take."

He followed your gaze and surveyed all your flowers, herbs, and vegetables.

"Except for the weeds," he remarked then with a knowing grin, and a laugh escaped your lips; grinning, you nodded. "Except for the weeds, yes."

He continued to watch you as you planted the remaining plants, before asking softly: "And Daisys?"

"What about them?" you asked back without looking at him.

"Whats their meaning?"

You froze for a few seconds before continuing and then you muttered softly: "Purity. Innocence."

You hoped that he wouldn't pick up on the sadness in your voic, but that was likely a lost cause. Especially given the pensive look Seungcheol cast your way when you murmured, "New beginnings."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The days passed, and Seungcheol’s physical condition steadily improved. He moved around significantly more and even helped you carry soil a few times—though each time, you scolded him to be careful about his wound.

He even started arguing with you that you should sleep in your own bed again and he would take the armchair, something you immediately refused, and it was only when you threatened him once more with the weed puller that he finally let it rest.

That really should have reassured you. The sooner he got back on his feet physically, the sooner you would have your peace and quiet back—though, in truth, you had to admit that a comfortable rhythm had slowly but surely crept into your daily routine. Apparently, after two years of solitude, it took only a few weeks to get used to having another person around again; and your Omega was happier than ever.

Usually, you never felt its presence due to the suppression caused by the Pyperus herbs; yet here, while the Alpha lived in your home and recovered, the herbs seemed to be only half-effective. It practically purred beneath your skin all day long, and whenever he was even just in your vicinity, your Omega would be happier than it had ever been before, much to your dislike.

While his body steadily recovered, his mind remained stagnant. You could clearly tell that normal, everyday conversations helped distract him from whatever was weighing on him. But whenever the two of you weren't talking—and you merely cast him brief, furtive glances—you would find him either lost deep in thought, wearing an expression so sad and desperate that it took your breath away, or watching you, as if trying to suppress the very thoughts that were driving him to the brink of madness.

One day, in particular, seemed to weigh heavily on him. He barely spoke a word, drinking the bitter tea without so much as a grimace, and slowly you found yourself teetering on the brink of despair because his gaze was so damn empty. You didn't know how to handle it, and you cursed yourself for being unable to simply ignore that damn worry gnawing inside you. You were responsible for the well-being of his body—not his soul.

But your mother’s words played like a steady melody through your mind, and you couldn't shake the thought that healing is a holistic process—and that, unfortunately, the psyche is an inseparable part of it.

It was evening, and you were just clearing away the dishes when you broke one of your own rules.

"Do you want to talk?"

His dark eyes slowly turned toward you, and you stood uncertainly in the room, unable to take back the offer now.

"I mean…" you struggled for words, then sighed in frustration. "You're having nightmares. I hear you murmuring names at night," you confessed softly.

His cold eyes shifted back to the floor. "Sorry to disturb your sleep."

"No!" you argued immediately, grimacing. God—what was wrong with you? "I just mean… if you want to talk. About the people. Then I can listen," you tried again, and this time, Seungcheol apparently understood your intention.

He was silent for a few minutes, long enough that you thought he was going to turn down your offer. Which was fine, too. If you knew nothing about him, he couldn't expect to learn anything about you.

"My father was killed right before my eyes, shortly before I ended up here with you."

Your heart stopped for a few seconds and sorry filled you, as you slowly approached the table and you sank down on the chair on the opposite of him.

"I don't know if my mother is still alive," he murmured, "or if my friends managed to escape."

„Was your village attacked?“ you asked carefully and Seungcheol nodded after a few seconds.

„Something like that.“

You pressed your lips together troubled in loss of words. Because there were none. Expect only a few.

„I’m sorry, Seungcheol. I can’t imagine the pain of not knowing if they‘re alright or not“

His eyes shined while he looked at you and maybe it was this screwed situation or that damn omega inside you that the next words flooded out of your mouth.

„I‘ve lost my mother too some time ago“, a sad smile appeared on your lips and you shrugged helplessly with your shoulders.

„I thought I‘ll die right there and now but I’ve survived it. I had to. The thought of continuing to live and to be a daughter she would be proud of helps me going on“

That was the whole reason why you allowed Seungcheol to stay with you. It puts you at risk but it would have made your mother proud.

„When did she die?“ he asked with a low voice.

„Almost three years ago“

You saw how he did the math in his head. That you disappeared into the woods after almost a year after your mother died.

"What about your father?" he suddenly asked and dread filled your whole body und you needed to remind yourself to breath, to remind you that he isn't here. That youre safe.

If Seungcheol noticed any trace of fear within you, he didn't mention it. So you gave him a strained smile and shrugged your shoulders with feigned nonchalance. "He's an asshole."

For your own sake, you had to quickly change the subject again, so that your thoughts wouldn't get caught in a spiral of panic once more. You already shared too much informations.

„Do you want to tell me about your friends?“ you asked carefully. „How are they like?“

Relief flooded you when you saw a smile form on Seungcheols lip at the thought of his friends and just the sight of him smiling again was enough for you.

Then he started talking. Started with a men called Jeonghan and went through them one by one. He told you about the mischiefs in their younger days and how the thirteen of them had an incredible strong bond. Even of Chan, whom he hadn't seen in a very long time, he spoke with deep affection, telling you how proud he was, as a friend, to see what respectful and kind-hearted men his friends had become.

You listened to him the entire time. Laughed with him and smiled with him when he remembered.

That evening, Seungcheol left the room with a smile to go to bed.

The nightmares returned a night later.

You were shifting back and forth in the armchair, trying to find a damn comfortable position, when you heard his pained moan. Almost immediately, you freeze mid-movement, waiting with a pounding heart for another sound, because perhaps you only imagined it?

But then it came again—sounds filled with pain and despair—and you didn't hesitate for a moment. You couldn't; you could still vividly see his sorrowful eyes, or that empty gaze of his, staring into the void right before you. You didn't hesitate. With cautious steps you walked into your bedroom, only to find that while Seungcheol was indeed still asleep, he was visibly tormented by nightmares. Nightmares that made beads of sweat break out on his skin and caused his head to jerk slightly back and forth.

You bit your lower lip uncertainly as worry filled your heart, nearly strangling the air from your lungs. Seungcheol murmured countless names—names that now seemed all too familiar to you. The thought of his friends, of his mother and father, gave him no peace, and you had to wake him before some frantic movement of his would cause him to reopen his wound. That would have meant the entire last weeks would had been for nothing.

"Seungcheol," you called out cautiously, taking slow steps toward the bed. He didn't react. So you tried again, softly calling his name over and over; and when he still didn't wake up, you took the plunge and gently touched his shoulder to give him a soft shake.

Not a second later, strong hands seized you, and the air was forced from your lungs as you were slammed against the mattress with crushing force, with Seungcheol looming over you, his hands pressed firmly against your shoulders.

You didn't even have enough time to utter a single sound and, breathless, with panic in your heart and eyes wide open, you stared at the man who was pressing you firmly against the mattress and who was likely still trapped in a nightmare.

While you were just fearing for your life, your Omega purred contentedly—and you wondered if life was really trying to screw with you, because of course he slept without a shirt. But right now, you couldn't focus on his well-built torso, not when his fingers were digging painfully into you.

"Seungcheol," you said in a harsh voice, letting out a slight whimper as his fingers dug into your shoulder, leaving behind a faint, stinging pain from the pressure. You had to get him out of this damn nightmare; he had no idea what he was doing right now.

Okay, harsh words apparently aren't getting anywhere. An idea crossed your mind—one that went completely against everything you stood for, and the mere thought of it made shame bubble up inside you—but perhaps now was the right moment to listen to your instincts? Your Omega was obviously feeling at ease, so perhaps his Alpha was present as well? Maybe you shouldn't speak to Seungcheol, but rather to the being slumbering deep within him.

So you allow yourself to close your eyes for exactly one second, before opening them again and murmuring in a trembling voice, "You're hurting me."

His grip on your shoulders loosened slightly, yet Seungcheol’s eyes remained glassy, ​​and his gaze did not focus on you; instead, he continued to stare into the void, simply right through you.

"I know it hurts," you continued in a trembling voice. "I know what it’s like to lose someone—someone you thought would be by your side for a long, long time." You took a deep breath. "But you aren't alone." You looked deep into his eyes, and when you noticed a faint flicker—barely visible—it gave you the confidence to keep speaking.

"You are here. Safe. And soon you can go back and see all your friends again, but please, come back to me first." Your voice was still trembling, and summoning all your courage, you placed a hand on one of his arms. "I'm here."

A second later, Seungcheol stood upright a few steps away from the bed, breathing heavily as he braced himself against the wall.

You were still lying on the bed, your Omega disappointed that the sudden skin-to-skin contact had now been interrupted once again, and trembling, you exhaled one last time before slowly sitting up and staring uncertainly over at Seungcheol, who closed his eyes in pain and clenched his hands into fists only to open them again.

You stood up carefully, but instead of going to him, you went into the kitchen and leaned exhaustedly against the counter. You allowed yourself five seconds to close your eyes and catch your breath, giving your pounding pulse a chance to settle, before preparing a tea with soothing herbs.

The tea warmed your hands as you slowly walked back into the bedroom with two cups, where you saw Seungcheol sitting exhaustedly on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. As you entered the room, his tired eyes lifted to meet yours, and he opened his mouth but before he could say a word, you shook your head. "Just forget it," you whispered to him, your expression tense, and handed him his tea.

Doubting eyes sought yours, and when he finally took the teacup, you carefully, maintaining a respectful distance, sat down cross-legged on the floor beside the bed and took a sip from your own cup as well. You needed that calming tea at least just as much as he did.

You leaned cautiously against the bed, and—finding you really couldn't think of anything better to break the silence—you asked in a tentative voice: "A question for a question?"

It sounded like an amused snort coming from Seungcheol, though you could have been mistaken. Then he hummed in agreement, and you looked up at him seriously. "But only trivial questions."

"And what would those be?" he mumured with raised eyebrows, the cup of tea still undrunk in his hands.

"What's your favorite color?", you suggested and when he didn't answer for a few seconds you turned around slightly to look up to him, "Dont you have a favourite color?"

"Who doesn't have a favourite color?" he asked back and you shook your head confused.

"Youre the one who's not answering the question."

"Because you could ask anything and you chose to ask about my favourite color" he scoffed back.

"It says alot about a person!" you argued and placed your mug down on the floor.

Seungcheol only looked at you with raised eyebrows, as if he can't believe about the topic you both are arguing about. But then he gave up.

"Black."

"Thats not a color", you immediatly replied and shook your head and he closed his eyes and sighed excessively loud, but you saw the suspicious forming of an amused smile on his lips.

"And why is that not a color?" he asked as he repositioned himself in bed, now leaning against the headboard. And you had to grudgingly admit that you once again had a perfect view of his bare torso. Seungcheol certainly noticed this as well—but even so, it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

You quickly averted your gaze again and took a sip of your tea—which was still far too hot—and choked so violently that you had to cough several times, bringing tears to your eyes.

You looked at him again and saw only his amused gaze as he watched you, and you quickly cleared your throat. "Because black is merely the absence of light. And I asked you for your favorite color, not whether you prefer dark or light."

"What's your favorite color then, smart-ass?" he asked with a hint of a smile and a challenging gaze settled in his dark eyes.

You couldn't help but grin up to him. "White."

Whether it was the sheer absurdity of the situation or something else, you both burst out laughing at the exact same moment. Seungcheol closed his eyes with a grin on his face and leaned his head back against the rest. "You're really one of a kind, Daisy."

A smile spread across your lips, and you were glad he didn't notice your cheek turn slightly red as you held up your tea mug and took another sip.

You spent the next few hours asking trivial questions. You learned about his favorite animal, his most embarrassing moment, and countless other things that didn't reveal too much about either of you.

Eventually, however, fatigue caught up with you once again, and it was only a matter of time before you drifted off to sleep on the floor, leaning against the bed.

You were already deep in the realm of dreams when Seungcheol slowly and carefully climbed out of your bed, gently lifted you up with his strong hands, and laid you down in your bed.

One might think that a whispered "Thank you, Daisy" still reached you through your dreams—though that was something you would no longer remember.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

After that night, something visibly changed between you and Seungcheol—and if Seungcheol was honest, he liked this side of you much more.

You talked to him much more now, no longer giving answers that consisted of just a single word. You shared countless facts with him about your various flowers, and Seungcheol quickly realized that he enjoyed listening to you. He liked it when your eyes lit up with enthusiasm, or when you bit your lip in concentration while working in your garden or experimenting with herbs in the kitchen.

Seungcheol would let you explain which specific herbs were good for what, and one time, you even let him create his own tea blend from scratch. It tasted absolutely dreadful—and you tried your best to convince him that it wasn't actually that bad for a first attempt—but in the end, you both spat it out after taking just one more sip. You both laughed so hard that you had to steady yourself against the kitchen counter, while Seungcheol had to be careful not to strain his throbbing wound.

These were the moments Seungcheol liked the most.

But it wasn't just your behavior and state of mind that had changed; Seungcheol, too, was now sleeping much better and finding more peace. The reason for this was—once again—you; the words spoken that night sometimes played on a continuous loop in his mind.

Come back to me first. I'm here.

The words had a grounding effect on him and his thoughts; yet, apparently, they had also burrowed deep into the needs of his Alpha. The latter, it seemed, was taking an ever-growing interest in you, throbbing brazenly within him. By now, he felt an increasingly intense urge to discover what you truly were—even though Seungcheol was astute enough to surmise that there was likely a good reason why you kept it hidden. To his Alpha, however, that didn't seem to matter much at all.

But Seungcheol said nothing, nor did he ask any questions. The days passed in peaceful tranquility, and he wanted to preserve that calm. By now, the two of you took turns, one sleeping in the bed at night, the other spending the night in the armchair.

It was a sunny day and Seungcheol had just freshened up when a sweet yet panicky scent forced him to stop, and the alpha within him howled demandingly. Seungcheol's eyes turned to your figure, which frantically opened all the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, searching for something but apparently finding nothing.

And then, finally, he caught your scent.

Finally smelled what you truly were.

An Omega - a sweet scented Omega had saved his life and helped nurse him back to health.

Seungcheol forced himself to hold his breath for a few seconds and rein in the demanding Alpha within him, but everything inside him screamed at him to help you, to dispel the panic coursing through your limbs and clinging to your scent.

You let out a sound of sheer desperation, leaning against the kitchen counter as you let your head hang, then ran your hand over your face.

That sound nearly brought Seungcheol to his knees, while his alpha pleaded him to help you shake off your despair—to take care of his sweet little Omega.

But he forced himself to pull himself together and carefully cleared his throat. "Daisy?"

You spun around to face him, leaning your back against the counter as if you wanted to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

Seungcheol’s heart gave a slight pang, and he tried to ignore the hurt—but he wasn’t your Alpha. He had no right to feel offended.

Then you cleared your throat, and the look of desperation vanished from your face so quickly that Seungcheol’s concern only deepened. "M-Morning!" you chirped in an overly cheerful voice, turning back around to reach with trembling hands for whatever random herbs you could find to make tea.

But this time, Seungcheol wouldn’t let it go. Not when he could still clearly see how you were shaking. "Daisy, what’s wrong?" he asked in a firm voice, taking a cautious step toward you.

"N-Nothing!" you replied quickly, nodding toward the table. "Go ahead and sit down; I'll bring you some tea in a moment and change your compress!" You turned back around, and Seungcheol furrowed his brows.

Something was terribly wrong.

This time his alpha won. He stood before you with quick steps and gently grasped your shoulders, quite unlike the night you rescued him from the nightmare. He carefully turned you around to face him, and with wide eyes you looked up at him, tensing up and seemingly not breathing.

"Let me help you" he breathed softly and your lips trembled. "Tell me what's wrong and we'll find a solution."

He didn't take his eyes off you for the few seconds you were thinking before you quietly said: "My Pyperus herbs are nearly finished and I thought I still had some in here but I can't find them."

Seungcheol looked around the kitchen, which looked like utter chaos, before nodding. "Do you urgently need the herbs?"

"I have some today and tomorrow, but then they'll all be gone." You pressed your lips together, and Seungcheol didn't ask what kind of herbs they were or why you needed them so badly. He nodded and released your shoulders, but remained standing in front of you. "Do you think we can get some from the village? I think I have enough strength again to cover longer distances."

After a few seconds, you nodded weakly, and Seungcheol brushed a loose strand of your hair away from your face and murmured, "Lie down again, rest. I'll clean up here."

You offered no resistance, and the Alpha within Seungcheol purred at your obedience, before Seungcheol once again ignored it, watching as you left the room and closed the door behind you.

And so, here he was; with his Alpha, who seemed to have fixated on an Omega who wanted anything but companionship.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Tears welled in your eyes as you laid in bed, reflecting on the situation that had just unfolded in the kitchen.

You had taken such great care to ensure you had a massive stockpile, spending days gathering these very herbs back then, long before a gravely injured Seungcheol had landed on your doorstep. Precisely so you would never again face the problem that was now slowly rearing its head once more.

You had known the moment you opened your eyes this morning that your Omega instincts were more restless than usual. Far too restless. Your pulse had quickened the instant you rose from bed; you had hurried to the kitchen with rapid strides, feeling such immense relief that Seungcheol wasn't in the room at that moment, thinking you could simply down your tea laced with the suppressant herbs, and then everything would be fine again.

Until you saw that you had only two left. Two. Which was far too few.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out how the hell you could have failed to notice that your supply was running low. After all, didn't you take the herbs every single day? Had Seungcheol used some when he first tried his hand at brewing tea? Had you been so utterly consumed by life these past few days—so distracted by the joy and inner peace you felt—that you had lost the ability to think logically and simply repressed the fact that your damn stockpile was nearly depleted?

And now he knew what you were, exactly what you had been trying to avoid from the very beginning. You squeezed your eyes shut in desperation, trying to drown out your father’s words; words that had been relentlessly swirling through your mind ever since earlier.

"Be a good girl and do what Omegas do—obey him. You will ensure that your stepmother and I can live a good life; isn't that what you want? Be a good Omega, Y/N."

Angrily, you bit down on your lower lip, and when you tasted the metallic tang of blood, you buried your face even deeper into the pillow. By now, it smelled far too strongly of Seungcheol—a scent that worked in direct opposition to the effects of the herb. Your Omega refused to be still. Refused to be suppressed. She wanted him. Her Alpha.

It’s a shame that you would never allow things to go that far, no matter how much you might suffer in the process.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The next day, the two of you set off for the village.

Early this morning, you used up your very last leaf and drank your tea with trembling hands. You constantly evaded Seungcheol’s gaze, ceaselessly fighting against your hammering pulse and surging blood.

Seungcheol had no idea how to help, what to say to make you feel at least a little bit better, or which words would help you calm down.

So he said nothing and walked silently beside you through the forest.

You had pulled up the hood of your jacket, and the closer you drew to the village, the more tense you—and he—became. What if Sinyoung soldiers were there and recognized him? How should he protect himself with this wound and more imporant, how should he protect you in that process?

His gaze drifted toward you.

You, too, apparently wanted to avoid being recognized at all costs—though Seungcheol did not know the reason why. But it wasn't his place to know, anyway.

They each had but a single objective: you were to buy your herbs, and he was to write his letter.

Just before you stepped out of the forest, you nodded in a specific direction. "Keep to the right at the marketplace and go into the pink building. You can write your letter there."

Seungcheol followed your gaze and nodded in agreement before turning his eyes back to you. "Where will I find you?"

You pointed toward the center of the marketplace, where a massive tree provided shade for the market. "I'll be waiting for you under the tree. It shouldn't take long with the herbs." You adjusted your basket on your arm once more.

Then you looked up at him with a sad smile, and Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat at your next words. "I know how important your letter is to you, but…" you hesitated, then looked at him pleadingly, "please don't mention my home, okay?"

Seungcheol nodded and murmured, „I'll just write that I'm alive."

"Promise?" you asked with a soft whisper and Seungcheols heart clenched.

"Promise."

You nodded in relief and then set off toward the herbs. Seungcheol watched you go for a few seconds, his heart already heavy with the weight of the promise, and then made his own way to the post station.

He did not address the letter by name. He knew exactly what he had to write, or to whom he had to address it, to ensure it reached his friends.

Seungcheol stood facing the wall, penning his letter in rapid strokes. He wrote that he was alive; he asked if everyone was well and if they had all managed to find a hiding place. He asked if they had heard anything from Chan. He wrote that he wanted to return soon, but that they needed a plan, and—

Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut in despair. He was a king. He had a kingdom to save from this tyrant, yet he had also made a promise to you. And your eyes—god, your pleading eyes when you begged him not to mention anything about your home—how could he possibly do that to you?

But he did not know if his mother was still alive. He did not know if his friends were safe.

He remembered the screames from the day they were attacked; the blood filling the ground and the lifeless eyes staring up to the sky. The head of his father, rolling across the floor.

"A king does not simply give up, Seungcheol. He stands tall and defends his people. For they are our entire pride."

The words of his father ringed and his ear and Seungcheol made a decision.

He had to face his responsibility as a king. Even if it meant letting you down.

He wrote one final sentence and then handed in the letter.

There is a man laying in your front garden - bleeding to death.

What’s even worse, he is an alpha who is bleeding to death.

The sight made you freeze mid-motion, and your eyes did not let the man leave your sight for a single second.

The scent radiating of him made you dizzy because you didn’t had an encounter with anyone in a really long time. Especially not with an damn alpha.

You forced your breath to calm itself and the omega in you roared furiously because it longed for attention and care. But that didn’t matter. It never mattered to you. You had more important things to focus on.

Panicked, your gaze darted left and right to see if anyone else could have found you—which, in reality, shouldn't be possible. You had managed to stay undercover for two whole years. Was everything you had endured now simply going to be over?

Your heartbeat only slowly calmed down as you realized the bleeding man was the only person around.

You thought about going into your hut again, forgeting about him in your front yard and continuing your peaceful day like nothing happened. But you knew already that it was a lost case.

"We always have to help for those in need, my dear." Your mothers voice rang in your ears and you feel like you will suffocate right here and now just thinking about her.

You really are your mothers daughter so you approached the man with quick steps, claiming your future with this decision.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

You left him lying with his fresh stitched up wound in your front yard.

At least he wasn't bleeding out anymore, though every few minutes you glanced out your window to see if he was still lying there and that you didnt imagine him in your head. Everytime you looked out he was still there, his chest going up and down with each breath he took.

A hard reminder that this wasn't just a sick dream.

But after all, your daily routine had to go on, didn't it? You had your plants to tend to; you would probably be sadder if one of them died than you were about the man in your front yard.

As you were out in your backyard, watering your plants and home-grown vegetables, your thoughts swirled inside your head, so loudly, in fact, that you failed to notice the pained, groaning sounds. It wasn't until you went back inside your cottage and saw the man who was supposed to be lying in your front yard instead leaning against your front door, that you let out a startled scream.

Without a second thought, you grabbed the nearest available weapon and now stood facing him—armed with a weed puller. It seemed rather ridiculous, but you were certain you could inflict significant damage with it, should the man even entertain the idea of ​​attacking you.

He, however, breathing heavily, leaned against the doorframe. And would your heart not pound so wildly again, you might have thought that an amused glint flickered in his eyes. Yet he merely raised his hands slowly, his face contorted in pain.

"I’d rather you didn’t skewer me with that thing there."

"Have you ever heard of knocking?!" you demanded indignantly, not daring to lower your weed-whacker.

"I would have knocked if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that you were the one who probably put me back together.", he looked at you and your weapon of choice in your hand and nodded towards it, "If I had known that you want to kill me now after saving my life I would rather leave now."

Your eyes immediately went to his injured side and thousands of emotions swirled inside you. To your misfortune, the omega buried deep inside you purred in delight at the sight of the Alpha and you breathed in annoyed. You ignored his remark and the stupid omega inside you and wondered how the hell he is able to stand with this kind of wound he has.

The wound you tended to was deep, and… you took a closer look at him.

It took every ounce of his strength to remain upright. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his hands repeatedly clenched into fists as if the mere thought of lying helplessly on the ground again would cause him even greater pain.

Slowly you lowered your „weapon" and eyed him cautiously before nodding your chin towards a chair. He was still hurt, you reminded yourself and that thought alone calmed you down even a little bit. "Sit down. You’re about to collapse again."

A scoff escaped his lips. "It takes a lot more than that to knock me out."

You stared at him, your expression completely blank. "Bold words coming from someone whose life I saved just today." You gestured toward the chair once more. "Do us both a favor and sit down, so my efforts aren't wasted and your wound doesn't reopen."

His gaze darted back and forth before—presumably—the logical part of his brain won , and he slowly walked over to the chair and let himself sink into it. His face relaxed almost immediately, and you couldn't help but scoff. "So it doesn't take that much after all," you muttered, and with the weed-puller in your hand, you took a few steps closer.

"Whoa, get away from me with that thing!" he breathed out and looked at you with wide eyes and you rolled your eyes annoyed.

"I need to look at your wound so it doesnt get infected!" you argued and held up your weed-puller, "this is just for my own protection."

"And who is that thing supposed to protect you from?" He asked while looking at you like you’ve became insane for even pointing with it at him.

"You. I dont know you." you answered defensively and crossed your arms in front of your chest. He didnt respond, only looked at you with slightly widened and confused eyes.

"What?"

"You dont know me?" He asked carefully and his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He doesnt believe you.

"Should I?" Sarcasm dripped in your voice and gestured at him to lift up his shirt. But he didnt move, his eyes still sceptically on you and you had the feeling you'll loose all your nerves with this man in front of you.

„Do I have to know you to see your wound?“ The annoyance inside you was clearly on the table now and to your dismay, an amusing glint appeared in his dark eyes.

„Demanding little thing, aren‘t you?“

Your eyes shined with anger and wordlessly you held up your weed-puller and even if it’s just for the joke or if he’s really scared you‘ll stab him with it, he sighed and lifted his shirt up.

„Well, thank you“ you sighed and let the weed-puller fall down on the floor while your eyes examined the neat line of stitches. You did a pretty well job for such a big gash and it didn’t seemed to be infected. At least one good thing that worked today.

„I‘ll make you a compress with some plants that will help the healing“ you mumured and made your way to your little kitchen sink. „That way you‘ll heal faster“ And with that leave faster.

You pretended to didn’t notice the way his eyes stare at the back of your head or how they wandered through the room. You tried to focus on making the compress until a question from him made you freeze.

„Whats your name?“

„I‘ll tell you mine if you tell me yours“ you said without thinking much and almost immediately cursed yourself out internally. You didn’t want to know him. And you certainly don’t want him to know your name.

Maybe it was the starved omega in you that made you behave like that. You made a note for yourself to drink a fresh tea of cyperus leaves later to suppress your omega needs again. The cyperus plant was a lifesaver to you. It help you with your heat, suppressing it until you almost had no problems with it at all, but it seemed the presence of the alpha brings everything down to zero.

Another reason why he needs to leave as soon as possible.

„I don’t think that’s a fair deal“ he only muttered and laid his head back against the wall.

„Are you a wanted criminal or something like that?“ You asked with a scoff.

He hummed tiredly and just shook his head. „Worse.“

You turned your head around and looked at him, truly looked at him for a few seconds. His dark eyes shined in a devastating sadness as he stared up the wall and the empathy in you screamed to help him.

That’s also a trait from your mother like the saying that you‘ll need to help someone who truly needs it.

And this man almost screamed quietly for help.

You blame your dead mother for your next words.

„You can call me Daisy.“

It wasn’t your real name but it was not nothing. His eyes immediately went back to yours and a glitter of peace appeared in them.

„Thank your for saving me, Daisy.“

The nickname on his tongue made you shiver and before he could notice you quickly turned around again, finishing up the compress. You just wanted to turn around to attach it to him, when his voice mumured again in your little hut.

„Seungcheol.“

„Huh?“ You looked at him confused.

„Call me Seungcheol.“

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol went through a lot in his not so long life. Being the only heir of the empire of Noxtus was one thing filled with countless duties, endless expectations and the constant pressure to become a king that is worth to rule its kingdom.

It wasn't necessarily hard for him. He had his loving parents and with that the perfect example how a kingdom should be ruled. He had his closest friends, always having his back and besides their mischieves in their younger days they've all become respecatble men and Seungcheol could see the bright future of him and his loved ones living happily in Noxtus.

Until Lunaria striked at them.

Seungcheol was incredibly lucky that he happened to be training with Mingyu at the time of the ambush. This allowed him to use his sword to take out a considerable number of charging soldiers—and he was truly naive enough to think that they would all make it out unscathed and put the enemy to flight.

That was seconds before he went up to the castle wall to see actually how many soldiers were attacking his kingdom. Before he saw how his father fought bravely against the intruders and failed. Before he saw how the head of his father rolled across the stone and the eyes of his murderer locked onto Seungcheols.

Lee Sinyoung. New King of Lunaria, previously a significant ally of Noxtus.

A fucking traitor.

Everything happened fast after that. He felt hands tugging at him and he saw the frantic eyes of Joshua while voices screamed at him to flee.

Seungcheol was never more confused in his life. How could he flee? How could he leave his people behind - his responsibility?

His friends were lucky that he was still in shock seeing his beheaded father because in no world he would allow them to seat himself onto his horse and force him to flee. He would rather die defending his country than flee like a coward.

"Seungcheol, listen!" Jeonghans hissed and the screams of dying soldiers bleeded in Seungcheols ears. He had to force himself to listen to one of his best friends.

"You are going to die if you stay here.", Jeonghan argued and looked over his shoulders. Joshua and Seungkwan stood before the two of them, guarding them so no one would intervene.

"You all will be dead if I leave" Seungcheol argued back and the damn screams of pain didnt stop-

Jeonghan shook his head and Seungcheol wondered if the day has come that his best friend truly had lost his mind. "We'll be hiding. All of us. You know they wont find us."

A pained expression filled Seungcheols face and Jeonghan smiled up to him while patting the back of Salute, Seungcheols loyal horse. "We'll be fine. Hide and we'll make a plan to get your kingdom back."

"Jeonghan-"

"Go!" His friend screamed at him as new invaders reached them and his friends immediatly striked against them. Seungcheol had to force himself to look away and what was even more important, to not look back as he made the decision to flee. He never hated himself more.

Fate, too, seemed to have something against his decision; for just as he reached the forests of Fyndor, two soldiers from Lunaria emerged, men who had evidently taken up the pursuit.

So, right here, Seungcheol had another chance to prove himself. After all, he was now the King of Noxtus—whether he was within his kingdom or not. He would be damned if two mere foot soldiers from Lunaria were to be the reason he ended up dying.

He chose to fight and the years of training with Mingyu and Hansol by his side had paid off. They were hardly worthy opponents for him, two Alphas who repeatedly attempted with sloppy movements to inflict the greatest possible damage upon him. They didn't fight with their heads; they didn't think the way Seungcheol did.

Minutes later, they laid half-dead on the ground before him, and Seungcheol trembled with barely contained rage. With a swift motion of his hand, he wiped his opponent’s blood from his cheek; then, with powerful hands, he took the helm of the shirt of the man before him and dragged him closer.

"What is he planning?" Seungcheol didn't even have to utter a name before the dying man spat out blood with a grin.

"King Sinyoung spoke of the great empire of Lunaria—and he mentioned you spineless wimps from Noxtus. You aren't worthy of leading an entire nation."

Satisfaction played out in the eyes of the man before him, and Seungcheol couldn't help but scoff, gritting the words through his teeth: "Your king will die. I don't care how long I have to hunt him down. He will pay for what he did to my people."

The man before him seemed as if he could not possibly be any more satisfied. He let out a raspy laugh, even as blood continued to trickle from his mouth. His teeth no longer appeared white; with a bloody grin, the man looked up at Seungcheol and simply whispered, "For that, you’ll have to survive today first."

Seungcheol had no time to react to the words, for a searing pain coursed through his right side. He immediately released the man, who tumbled to the ground laughing, and Seungcheol spun around just as a third soldier withdrew his sword from Seungcheol’s side, the blade glowing red with his blood.

"Does a king bleed any differently than we soldiers do, your highness?", the beta asked with a grin and wielded his sword against Seungcheol again. They both tripped into the direction of Salute and the poor horse was cut from the blade of the men before it turned away and ran into the woods, leaving his owner alone fighting for his life.

Seungcheol hoisted his own sword just in time with the attacks of the enemy, clutching his bleeding right side the whole time. He had to ignore the pain and then somehow stop the bleeding immediately. But first, he had to get rid of this runt.

He must have been guided by some higher power. Seungcheol truly could not explain otherwise how he was able to fight with such a wound and withstand the strong blows of his opponent.

But Seungcheol had always been good at enduring. Discipline had been a virtue of his father—one he had always placed great value upon.

"A king does not simply give up, Seungcheol," he reminded himself of his father's words. "He stands tall and defends his people. For they are our entire pride."

So Seungcheol stood tall, even with a life-threatening wound. His efforts were rewarded by fate, it seemed. In a moment of carelessness of the beta Seungcheol managed to slash his blade across his throat. Gasping for breath, the beta collapsed onto the forest floor and wasted his final words with false hopes: "Long live King Sinyoung."

Seungcheol stared at the three dead men laying before his feet and he swore by the sun, the moon, and the stars that he would unleash hell on earth upon everyone who had taken everything from him today.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol leaned unconsciously against the wall, sitting uncomfortably in the chair, and for exactly one second, you wondered whether you should go though the trouble of somehow dragging him into your only bed. A glance at his wound, however, settled the matter relatively quickly. You had absolutely no desire for it to reopen in any way—his stumbling around earlier had been risky enough as it was.

It was no wonder at all that he had fallen back asleep almost immediately after your conversation. He must have been in unbearable pain, and his body now needed a period of recovery. The thought of how long that might take troubled you immensely.

You wanted him to leave. You didn't need a wounded Alpha here in your little hideout. That would only bring you the kind of trouble you had steadily managed to avoid for the past two years. But you wouldn't kick an injured person out the door and leave them to fend for themselves. And apparently, he was all alone, with those dark, sad eyes of his, and that damn desperate look from before just wouldn't leave your mind.

So you made the decision to get him back on his feet as quickly as possible. Every hour, you changed the compresses on his right side and kept the tea—steeped with basil, chamomile, and thyme—warm so that he could drink it the moment he woke up. You knew that healing required time and patience—qualities you didn't exactly possess. As far as you were concerned, he could drink two liters in one go if there was even a chance that doing so would make him disappear just as quickly as he had arrived.

The sun was just setting, and you stood in the kitchen, gently stirring your mushroom soup, when a pained groan sounded from behind you. You slowly turned your head towards Seungcheol, who was slowly propping himself up a little, grimacing as he slowly rotated his head to work out the stiffness caused by his uncomfortable position. Your hand immediately reached for a warm cup of the tea you had brewed for him before you strode quickly to stand before him, in your other hand the weed puller, which still served as your safe anchor against this stranger. "Here. Drink this," you commanded, holding the steaming cup up to his face.

His eyes drifted from the weed puller to the cup in your hand and with raised eyebrows. He looked up at you clearing his throat and then carefully took the cup from you. You gave it to him in such way that your hands definitely wouldn't touch, and the stupid Omega inside you growled angrily because of that. It was already hard enough for you when you were changing these damn compresses, his skin burning under your finger tips and you had to stop a few times because it was just too much. You hadn't touched another soul in two years and now this.

Another mental note to drink an extra portion of your cyperus tea. You've already drank one a few hours ago but your omega just wont shut up.

Seungcheol took a cautious sip of the tea, and just as you turned around to continue stirring the soup, he immediately spat out the tea you had brewed yourself.

"Hey! I spent hours brewing that specifically for you, you moron!" you cried out indignantly, glaring furiously at him as he stared at the tea with a look of utter disgust.

"What is this?" he asked, coughing, and you shook your head disdainfully. "Herbs to help you recover faster. Drink it—now."

Only after he had completely drained the cup and took a deep breath, you nod in satisfaction and took the cup back from him. "Dinner is almost ready," you murmured, turning back around—now acutely aware of just how small your cabin actually was. For one person, it was perfect; but for two? Where was he even supposed to sleep? He was injured; naturally you would give him the bed. That meant several nights for you in your reading armchair, which stood in the back corner of the room. Great.

Seungcheol too seemed to be hyperaware of the situation he is in, as he stayed quiet and said nothing to you while you were preparing dinner.

A few minutes later, you set the soup down on the small table and sat down across from him, letting the weed puller drop beside your plate. Seungcheol’s eyes immediately locked onto it, and this time, you could clearly make out the amusement on his face.

"Don't you think I would have attacked you long ago if that were my intention?" he asked in a raspy voice; you merely shrugged, your cold eyes fixed on him.

"Better safe than sorry." You began to eat, but he simply continued to stare at you, not even glancing down at his soup. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you turned your gaze back to him. "Do I fascinate you so much that your brain has stopped working? Eat. You need to get well." You nodded toward the soup sitting in front of him.

"You haven't spoken to anyone in a long time, have you?" he asked suddenly, and, caught off guard, you narrowed your eyes.

"How would you know that?" you retorted defiantly, tilting your head. "Maybe I get visitors every week."

"You only have one proper plate." Seungcheol nodded toward his own plate, where his soup remained untouched, and then his eyes shifted to your mug. "You're eating soup out of a large mug, and I watched you spend nearly three minutes searching for a second spoon."

Caught red-handed, you pressed your lips together, then shrugged. "Okay, you've got me. But why should you care?"

"I want to know who the person is who saved my life today." His dark eyes fixed upon you, and were you not so stubborn, you would flee into another room right now and simply barricade yourself in. But this was your house. Your right to defend yourself—to protect yourself.

"There is nothing you need to know about me," was all you replied, taking another spoonful of your soup.

Seungcheol scoffed. "You really know how to hold an conversation." Sarcasm dripped in his voice. "Isn't there always something interesting to know about other people?"

"Not in my case." Your voice was colder than you intended, and you felt a strong urge to change the subject.

"Maybe you could tell me something about the person whose life I saved today." A shadow crossed his eyes, and you smiled at him triumphantly. He wanted to talk about himself just as little as you wanted to talk about yourself.

His teeth bit his lower lip for a few seconds, and your gaze flickered towards it before you swiftly looked away and finished your soup.

"So you don't get many visitors. I guess I'm the first. How long have you been living here?" Seungcheol tried again and finally began to eat his soup. You poured him another cup of tea, pondering whether or not you should answer him. After all, he would be staying here for some time, and apparently, he truly had no intention of attacking you, nor did he have any idea who you were. That was something you could work with.

It didn’t help that you were curious about his situation, too. How did he even got his wound? And who exactly is the man who is sitting here and now in your safe little hut?

"A question for a question," you proposed, setting the fresh cup of tea down beside his plate. Seungcheol nodded, and you gave him the answer to his first question: "Two years."

He nodded thoughtfully and continued eating. You sank back into the chair opposite him. "Who inflicted that wound on you?" You gestured toward his right side.

"Enemy soldiers," was his reply, and you studied him thoughtfully. That could mean many things. Nothing about him suggested any connection to a kingdom. He wore no armor, and nowhere was an emblem to be seen and the sword that he carried with him (and you hid) also showed no belonging to a specifical kingdom.

"Are they dead?" you asked with a quiet voice and Seungcheol's eyes landed on you again.

"Yes."

You nodded, relief flooded your veins. "Good."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Seungcheol couldn't figure you out. To begin with, there was your scent. You smelled of nothing. The Alpha within him was extremely restless, practically commanding him to find out what was wrong with you—why he couldn't classify what you were.

Then there was your manner. You looked after him, regularly changed his compresses, and refilled his tea every minute. But as soon as he spoke to you, your only responses were short and cold.

Seungcheol wouldn't exactly describe himself as charming, but he wasn't actually bad at dealing with new people. After all, he was a prince—now a king—so he had to be good at getting along with strangers. But with you, there was a towering wall, and he could practically feel you shutting him out. He just didn't understand why.

You could have simply let him die. But you didn't. And now he was bound to you in this hut, and he had to write a secret letter to find out how his kingdom was doing, how his friends were doing. Had everyone escaped? Had everyone truly managed to hide? Is Salute alright? These thoughts nearly drove him mad.

The only distraction available is a conversation with you—and that turned out to be more impossible than expected.

One question in exchange for another had been enough for you; you likely didn't want to know anything more from him, for you changed his compress once again, your body rigid with extreme tension, without even meeting his eyes.

The Alpha within Seungcheol stirred restlessly, and Seungcheol wondered what the hell was going on.

At least one thing was clear to Seungcheol: You didn't have the faintest clue who he was. If you had even the slightest inkling, you never would have allowed him to stay in your cabin for so long, not with how guarded and cautious you were.

So he simply had to remain quiet about his true identity, wait until he was healthy again, and then return to Noxtus as quickly as possible.

Once you were finished, you threw away the bloody compress and nodded towards another room.

"Lie down and sleep. You won't recover if you sit in that chair the whole time."

His eyes followed yours and confused he asked, "And where will you sleep?" He couldn't take a woman's only bed away from her.

"You don't have to worry about that," you merely murmured—and Seungcheol had never encountered a person as stubborn as you. And that was really saying something; after all he had often debated fight strategies with Minghao, and that too was anything but easy.

"I can just stay here-"

"Seungcheol." The sound of his name on your tongue made the blood freeze in his veins, and his Alpha stirred restlessly within him, as if he couldn't quite gauge whether he wanted to hear his name from your lips once more, or would rather never hear it again. Confusion coursed through Seungcheol as he tried to focus on your words.

"Please just go to bed now and sleep. You look like you're about to collapse again, and rest is what your body needs most right now." you argued with what almost seemed like a soft voice and the unspoken words filled the room. I dont need your worry. I can fend for myself.

Even though he found it difficult, Seungcheol knew when a battle was over and when not to push things too far. He saw the exhaustion on your face; after all, you had spent the entire day looking after him. That only made him feel more guilty about taking your bed now.

"One night", he croaked out and cleared his throat. "I'm not taking it longer than needed."

He saw how your nod and then gathered all his strength to rise carefully to his feet. It took him a moment to find his balance before he began walking slowly and cautiously towards the other room. Pain racked his entire right side, and beads of sweat were already glistening on his forehead once again, when suddenly the weight on his left side was slightly lifted and it became easier to walk. He looked down at you in astonishment, saw that you were now supporting him with your delicate hands, your gaze fixed intently straight ahead.

Wherever your skin touched his, his flesh seemed to burn and for at least a brief moment, the searing pain from his wound was somehow forgotten. Seungcheol’s alpha perked up with curiosity, and his entire attention focused on the places where your skin touched, as if it would leave visible marks.

All of this made absolutely no sense at all, why his alpha, or furthermore he, reacted that way considering he didn't even know what you were. An Omega hiding behind a massive protective wall? An Alpha freely asserting her dominance? Or perhaps a Beta who simply wanted to live in peace and solitude in her cabin?

Yet Seungcheol recalled that his inner alpha had never been so curious about another person before; and a few minutes later, as he laid in your bed, completely enveloped by your sweet lingering scent, peaceful sleep finally claimed him for the first time since the attack.

(While he laid in bed, sleeping peacefully, you rushed to your small, hidden drawer in the kitchen and quickly brewed yourself a fresh tea made with Cyperus leaves; and even though it was still scalding hot, you downed it in a flash—hoping that the screaming Omega within you would finally fall silent.)

Seungcheol woke up the next morning feeling much better than he had the day before. Apparently, you had already changed his compress; a glance at his bandaged wound told him everything he needed to know. Carefully, he sat up and, with soft steps, left the room, only to find the cabin empty. His gaze swept searchingly across the windows, and there you were, standing in the backyard, harvesting some vegetables.

It didn't take long before you noticed him. You regarded him with an appraising look, then nodded back toward the cabin. "Freshen up. I'll make us some breakfast in a moment." Then you turned back around; apparently, your resolve not to speak to Seungcheol remained unchanged.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

"Is there a village nearby?" Seungcheols voice cut through the quietness of your garden as you tended to your herbs and plants while he sat on a chair, enjoying a few minutes of fresh air before you would tell him to lay down again.

That was your established routine the last week. Eat with him, change his compress, force him to drink the tea and them command him to sleep. You could feel his restless energy but the first signs of improvement were already becoming apparent.

He was now able to stay awake for much longer, and short walks no longer took a toll on him. Bad for you, because he started seeking conversation with you much more often.

"Yeah, about half a mile to the west," you murmured back. Perhaps this was finally the first sign that he wanted to leave. Although his wound was already improving, his general condition still gave you cause for concern at times—especially when he tossed and turned in your bed while sleeping, constantly murmuring various names. Nightmares plagued him day in and day out; and even if it seemed as though he was slowly but surely recovering physically, the same could not be said for his state of mind.

By now, you had started giving him tea with special herbs in the evenings to help him get a better night's sleep. It worked only moderately well.

"I would like to go there. I have to write an important letter."

Your piercing eyes bored into him. "To whom?"

"Why do you need to know?" He asked calmly.

"Because I don't need anyone to come here," you shot back, turning back to your plants.

Seungcheol remained silent for a few seconds before his quiet voice once again broke the silence. "No one will come. I just want to let someone know that I'm alive."

Feelings of guilt stirred deep within you, and with a sigh, you closed your eyes for a few moments. You would do anything to preserve your own safety, but Seungcheol had just barely escaped death. He had the right to let someone know. You couldn't take that away from him.

Your eyes turned back to him, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. And he looked broken. Dark circles ringed his handsome face, his dark hair fell into his brown eyes, and everything inside you screamed that an Alpha—any Alpha—should not look like this. Most likely, it was your hormone-driven Omega screaming this at you but you allowed yourself to listen to it for the first time. Helping, that is something you could do.

So you muttered softly to him: "Give yourself enough time to rest and then I'll show you the village."

And apparently, that was enough for Seungcheol, for a deep sense of calm now radiated from him.

He joined you more and more in the garden. Three days after your conversation about the village you found yourself planting new herbs to your collection and a shadow laid itself over you. You felt his eyes watching you and while you tried to ignore his presence behind you it became harder and harder to do exactly that.

You sat back and looked up to him from the ground. His eyes didnt leave the herbs and he nodded to your bed full of your goods. "I also had many beds at home but none of them looked even close like yours."

"Is that an compliment or an insult?" you asked with a scoff and continued to look up to him.

A mischivious glint appeared in his eyes. "It depends how confindent you are in your doings."

"Then its clearly a compliment."

Seungcheol huffed amused and then, to your suprise, he slowly lets himself down beside you in the grass. You pressed your lips lightly together and before you could even think what the hell you were doing, you took the herb you just wanted to plant in in your hands and rambled: "This is vervain. It has fever-reducing and antispasmodic effects."

When Seungcheol responded nothing a red veil of shame settled on your cheek. What the hell? Where did that come from now?

But Seungcheol nodded encouragingly with a faint smile, then gestured with his chin toward the herb in your hand. "Does it have a meaning?"

"Good fortune," you murmured, and you were just about to plant it when the question burning on your tongue already escaped your lips: "Do you want to give it a try?"

Seungcheol looked at you with feigned surprise. "I don't want my wound to reopen.", a sarcastic undertone laid on his words and you rolled your eyes amused.

"I'll get a medal for you if you manage to do"

Seungcheol grinned in amusement, then carefully took the herb from your hand and looked somewhat helplessly down at the garden bed below him. "I've never done anything like this before…" he confessed hesitantly.

With raised eyebrows, you looked at him with amusement. "Just set it in the hole, pile some soil around it so it stands firm, and then pat the earth down. It's not magic."

"You say so. It always looks so easy when you do it," he remarked as he carefully placed the Vervain in the ground. You watched every of slightest movement, letting his words race through your mind. Had he been watching you plant every single time he sat outside recently? And why did that thought alone make you shy and restless? Gardening was your element. You knew how to handle your plants, and just because someone was watching you that shouldnt throw you off balance.

Seungcheol asked you a question that snapped you out of your thoughts in an instant. Caught off guard, you stared at him, tilting your head slightly in a questioning manner. Seungcheol nodded toward the planted vervain and repeated his question: "Is this okay?"

You looked down at it, and an amused scoff escaped your lips. "You buried it a little too deep." Carefully, you shoveled some soil aside to set the herb a bit higher.

Seungcheol snorted and leaned back again. "Well, seems like I'm a lost case."

"Now you’re exaggerating," you replied with amusement, gazing at the plant with a smile. "Gardening isn't about right or wrong. It’s about effort, patience, and gentleness." You gestured toward the many blooming flowers all around you. "It’s a give-and-take."

He followed your gaze and surveyed all your flowers, herbs, and vegetables.

"Except for the weeds," he remarked then with a knowing grin, and a laugh escaped your lips; grinning, you nodded. "Except for the weeds, yes."

He continued to watch you as you planted the remaining plants, before asking softly: "And Daisys?"

"What about them?" you asked back without looking at him.

"Whats their meaning?"

You froze for a few seconds before continuing and then you muttered softly: "Purity. Innocence."

You hoped that he wouldn't pick up on the sadness in your voic, but that was likely a lost cause. Especially given the pensive look Seungcheol cast your way when you murmured, "New beginnings."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The days passed, and Seungcheol’s physical condition steadily improved. He moved around significantly more and even helped you carry soil a few times—though each time, you scolded him to be careful about his wound.

He even started arguing with you that you should sleep in your own bed again and he would take the armchair, something you immediately refused, and it was only when you threatened him once more with the weed puller that he finally let it rest.

That really should have reassured you. The sooner he got back on his feet physically, the sooner you would have your peace and quiet back—though, in truth, you had to admit that a comfortable rhythm had slowly but surely crept into your daily routine. Apparently, after two years of solitude, it took only a few weeks to get used to having another person around again; and your Omega was happier than ever.

Usually, you never felt its presence due to the suppression caused by the Pyperus herbs; yet here, while the Alpha lived in your home and recovered, the herbs seemed to be only half-effective. It practically purred beneath your skin all day long, and whenever he was even just in your vicinity, your Omega would be happier than it had ever been before, much to your dislike.

While his body steadily recovered, his mind remained stagnant. You could clearly tell that normal, everyday conversations helped distract him from whatever was weighing on him. But whenever the two of you weren't talking—and you merely cast him brief, furtive glances—you would find him either lost deep in thought, wearing an expression so sad and desperate that it took your breath away, or watching you, as if trying to suppress the very thoughts that were driving him to the brink of madness.

One day, in particular, seemed to weigh heavily on him. He barely spoke a word, drinking the bitter tea without so much as a grimace, and slowly you found yourself teetering on the brink of despair because his gaze was so damn empty. You didn't know how to handle it, and you cursed yourself for being unable to simply ignore that damn worry gnawing inside you. You were responsible for the well-being of his body—not his soul.

But your mother’s words played like a steady melody through your mind, and you couldn't shake the thought that healing is a holistic process—and that, unfortunately, the psyche is an inseparable part of it.

It was evening, and you were just clearing away the dishes when you broke one of your own rules.

"Do you want to talk?"

His dark eyes slowly turned toward you, and you stood uncertainly in the room, unable to take back the offer now.

"I mean…" you struggled for words, then sighed in frustration. "You're having nightmares. I hear you murmuring names at night," you confessed softly.

His cold eyes shifted back to the floor. "Sorry to disturb your sleep."

"No!" you argued immediately, grimacing. God—what was wrong with you? "I just mean… if you want to talk. About the people. Then I can listen," you tried again, and this time, Seungcheol apparently understood your intention.

He was silent for a few minutes, long enough that you thought he was going to turn down your offer. Which was fine, too. If you knew nothing about him, he couldn't expect to learn anything about you.

"My father was killed right before my eyes, shortly before I ended up here with you."

Your heart stopped for a few seconds and sorry filled you, as you slowly approached the table and you sank down on the chair on the opposite of him.

"I don't know if my mother is still alive," he murmured, "or if my friends managed to escape."

„Was your village attacked?“ you asked carefully and Seungcheol nodded after a few seconds.

„Something like that.“

You pressed your lips together troubled in loss of words. Because there were none. Expect only a few.

„I’m sorry, Seungcheol. I can’t imagine the pain of not knowing if they‘re alright or not“

His eyes shined while he looked at you and maybe it was this screwed situation or that damn omega inside you that the next words flooded out of your mouth.

„I‘ve lost my mother too some time ago“, a sad smile appeared on your lips and you shrugged helplessly with your shoulders.

„I thought I‘ll die right there and now but I’ve survived it. I had to. The thought of continuing to live and to be a daughter she would be proud of helps me going on“

That was the whole reason why you allowed Seungcheol to stay with you. It puts you at risk but it would have made your mother proud.

„When did she die?“ he asked with a low voice.

„Almost three years ago“

You saw how he did the math in his head. That you disappeared into the woods after almost a year after your mother died.

"What about your father?" he suddenly asked and dread filled your whole body und you needed to remind yourself to breath, to remind you that he isn't here. That youre safe.

If Seungcheol noticed any trace of fear within you, he didn't mention it. So you gave him a strained smile and shrugged your shoulders with feigned nonchalance. "He's an asshole."

For your own sake, you had to quickly change the subject again, so that your thoughts wouldn't get caught in a spiral of panic once more. You already shared too much informations.

„Do you want to tell me about your friends?“ you asked carefully. „How are they like?“

Relief flooded you when you saw a smile form on Seungcheols lip at the thought of his friends and just the sight of him smiling again was enough for you.

Then he started talking. Started with a men called Jeonghan and went through them one by one. He told you about the mischiefs in their younger days and how the thirteen of them had an incredible strong bond. Even of Chan, whom he hadn't seen in a very long time, he spoke with deep affection, telling you how proud he was, as a friend, to see what respectful and kind-hearted men his friends had become.

You listened to him the entire time. Laughed with him and smiled with him when he remembered.

That evening, Seungcheol left the room with a smile to go to bed.

The nightmares returned a night later.

You were shifting back and forth in the armchair, trying to find a damn comfortable position, when you heard his pained moan. Almost immediately, you freeze mid-movement, waiting with a pounding heart for another sound, because perhaps you only imagined it?

But then it came again—sounds filled with pain and despair—and you didn't hesitate for a moment. You couldn't; you could still vividly see his sorrowful eyes, or that empty gaze of his, staring into the void right before you. You didn't hesitate. With cautious steps you walked into your bedroom, only to find that while Seungcheol was indeed still asleep, he was visibly tormented by nightmares. Nightmares that made beads of sweat break out on his skin and caused his head to jerk slightly back and forth.

You bit your lower lip uncertainly as worry filled your heart, nearly strangling the air from your lungs. Seungcheol murmured countless names—names that now seemed all too familiar to you. The thought of his friends, of his mother and father, gave him no peace, and you had to wake him before some frantic movement of his would cause him to reopen his wound. That would have meant the entire last weeks would had been for nothing.

"Seungcheol," you called out cautiously, taking slow steps toward the bed. He didn't react. So you tried again, softly calling his name over and over; and when he still didn't wake up, you took the plunge and gently touched his shoulder to give him a soft shake.

Not a second later, strong hands seized you, and the air was forced from your lungs as you were slammed against the mattress with crushing force, with Seungcheol looming over you, his hands pressed firmly against your shoulders.

You didn't even have enough time to utter a single sound and, breathless, with panic in your heart and eyes wide open, you stared at the man who was pressing you firmly against the mattress and who was likely still trapped in a nightmare.

While you were just fearing for your life, your Omega purred contentedly—and you wondered if life was really trying to screw with you, because of course he slept without a shirt. But right now, you couldn't focus on his well-built torso, not when his fingers were digging painfully into you.

"Seungcheol," you said in a harsh voice, letting out a slight whimper as his fingers dug into your shoulder, leaving behind a faint, stinging pain from the pressure. You had to get him out of this damn nightmare; he had no idea what he was doing right now.

Okay, harsh words apparently aren't getting anywhere. An idea crossed your mind—one that went completely against everything you stood for, and the mere thought of it made shame bubble up inside you—but perhaps now was the right moment to listen to your instincts? Your Omega was obviously feeling at ease, so perhaps his Alpha was present as well? Maybe you shouldn't speak to Seungcheol, but rather to the being slumbering deep within him.

So you allow yourself to close your eyes for exactly one second, before opening them again and murmuring in a trembling voice, "You're hurting me."

His grip on your shoulders loosened slightly, yet Seungcheol’s eyes remained glassy, ​​and his gaze did not focus on you; instead, he continued to stare into the void, simply right through you.

"I know it hurts," you continued in a trembling voice. "I know what it’s like to lose someone—someone you thought would be by your side for a long, long time." You took a deep breath. "But you aren't alone." You looked deep into his eyes, and when you noticed a faint flicker—barely visible—it gave you the confidence to keep speaking.

"You are here. Safe. And soon you can go back and see all your friends again, but please, come back to me first." Your voice was still trembling, and summoning all your courage, you placed a hand on one of his arms. "I'm here."

A second later, Seungcheol stood upright a few steps away from the bed, breathing heavily as he braced himself against the wall.

You were still lying on the bed, your Omega disappointed that the sudden skin-to-skin contact had now been interrupted once again, and trembling, you exhaled one last time before slowly sitting up and staring uncertainly over at Seungcheol, who closed his eyes in pain and clenched his hands into fists only to open them again.

You stood up carefully, but instead of going to him, you went into the kitchen and leaned exhaustedly against the counter. You allowed yourself five seconds to close your eyes and catch your breath, giving your pounding pulse a chance to settle, before preparing a tea with soothing herbs.

The tea warmed your hands as you slowly walked back into the bedroom with two cups, where you saw Seungcheol sitting exhaustedly on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. As you entered the room, his tired eyes lifted to meet yours, and he opened his mouth but before he could say a word, you shook your head. "Just forget it," you whispered to him, your expression tense, and handed him his tea.

Doubting eyes sought yours, and when he finally took the teacup, you carefully, maintaining a respectful distance, sat down cross-legged on the floor beside the bed and took a sip from your own cup as well. You needed that calming tea at least just as much as he did.

You leaned cautiously against the bed, and—finding you really couldn't think of anything better to break the silence—you asked in a tentative voice: "A question for a question?"

It sounded like an amused snort coming from Seungcheol, though you could have been mistaken. Then he hummed in agreement, and you looked up at him seriously. "But only trivial questions."

"And what would those be?" he mumured with raised eyebrows, the cup of tea still undrunk in his hands.

"What's your favorite color?", you suggested and when he didn't answer for a few seconds you turned around slightly to look up to him, "Dont you have a favourite color?"

"Who doesn't have a favourite color?" he asked back and you shook your head confused.

"Youre the one who's not answering the question."

"Because you could ask anything and you chose to ask about my favourite color" he scoffed back.

"It says alot about a person!" you argued and placed your mug down on the floor.

Seungcheol only looked at you with raised eyebrows, as if he can't believe about the topic you both are arguing about. But then he gave up.

"Black."

"Thats not a color", you immediatly replied and shook your head and he closed his eyes and sighed excessively loud, but you saw the suspicious forming of an amused smile on his lips.

"And why is that not a color?" he asked as he repositioned himself in bed, now leaning against the headboard. And you had to grudgingly admit that you once again had a perfect view of his bare torso. Seungcheol certainly noticed this as well—but even so, it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

You quickly averted your gaze again and took a sip of your tea—which was still far too hot—and choked so violently that you had to cough several times, bringing tears to your eyes.

You looked at him again and saw only his amused gaze as he watched you, and you quickly cleared your throat. "Because black is merely the absence of light. And I asked you for your favorite color, not whether you prefer dark or light."

"What's your favorite color then, smart-ass?" he asked with a hint of a smile and a challenging gaze settled in his dark eyes.

You couldn't help but grin up to him. "White."

Whether it was the sheer absurdity of the situation or something else, you both burst out laughing at the exact same moment. Seungcheol closed his eyes with a grin on his face and leaned his head back against the rest. "You're really one of a kind, Daisy."

A smile spread across your lips, and you were glad he didn't notice your cheek turn slightly red as you held up your tea mug and took another sip.

You spent the next few hours asking trivial questions. You learned about his favorite animal, his most embarrassing moment, and countless other things that didn't reveal too much about either of you.

Eventually, however, fatigue caught up with you once again, and it was only a matter of time before you drifted off to sleep on the floor, leaning against the bed.

You were already deep in the realm of dreams when Seungcheol slowly and carefully climbed out of your bed, gently lifted you up with his strong hands, and laid you down in your bed.

One might think that a whispered "Thank you, Daisy" still reached you through your dreams—though that was something you would no longer remember.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

After that night, something visibly changed between you and Seungcheol—and if Seungcheol was honest, he liked this side of you much more.

You talked to him much more now, no longer giving answers that consisted of just a single word. You shared countless facts with him about your various flowers, and Seungcheol quickly realized that he enjoyed listening to you. He liked it when your eyes lit up with enthusiasm, or when you bit your lip in concentration while working in your garden or experimenting with herbs in the kitchen.

Seungcheol would let you explain which specific herbs were good for what, and one time, you even let him create his own tea blend from scratch. It tasted absolutely dreadful—and you tried your best to convince him that it wasn't actually that bad for a first attempt—but in the end, you both spat it out after taking just one more sip. You both laughed so hard that you had to steady yourself against the kitchen counter, while Seungcheol had to be careful not to strain his throbbing wound.

These were the moments Seungcheol liked the most.

But it wasn't just your behavior and state of mind that had changed; Seungcheol, too, was now sleeping much better and finding more peace. The reason for this was—once again—you; the words spoken that night sometimes played on a continuous loop in his mind.

Come back to me first. I'm here.

The words had a grounding effect on him and his thoughts; yet, apparently, they had also burrowed deep into the needs of his Alpha. The latter, it seemed, was taking an ever-growing interest in you, throbbing brazenly within him. By now, he felt an increasingly intense urge to discover what you truly were—even though Seungcheol was astute enough to surmise that there was likely a good reason why you kept it hidden. To his Alpha, however, that didn't seem to matter much at all.

But Seungcheol said nothing, nor did he ask any questions. The days passed in peaceful tranquility, and he wanted to preserve that calm. By now, the two of you took turns, one sleeping in the bed at night, the other spending the night in the armchair.

It was a sunny day and Seungcheol had just freshened up when a sweet yet panicky scent forced him to stop, and the alpha within him howled demandingly. Seungcheol's eyes turned to your figure, which frantically opened all the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, searching for something but apparently finding nothing.

And then, finally, he caught your scent.

Finally smelled what you truly were.

An Omega - a sweet scented Omega had saved his life and helped nurse him back to health.

Seungcheol forced himself to hold his breath for a few seconds and rein in the demanding Alpha within him, but everything inside him screamed at him to help you, to dispel the panic coursing through your limbs and clinging to your scent.

You let out a sound of sheer desperation, leaning against the kitchen counter as you let your head hang, then ran your hand over your face.

That sound nearly brought Seungcheol to his knees, while his alpha pleaded him to help you shake off your despair—to take care of his sweet little Omega.

But he forced himself to pull himself together and carefully cleared his throat. "Daisy?"

You spun around to face him, leaning your back against the counter as if you wanted to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

Seungcheol’s heart gave a slight pang, and he tried to ignore the hurt—but he wasn’t your Alpha. He had no right to feel offended.

Then you cleared your throat, and the look of desperation vanished from your face so quickly that Seungcheol’s concern only deepened. "M-Morning!" you chirped in an overly cheerful voice, turning back around to reach with trembling hands for whatever random herbs you could find to make tea.

But this time, Seungcheol wouldn’t let it go. Not when he could still clearly see how you were shaking. "Daisy, what’s wrong?" he asked in a firm voice, taking a cautious step toward you.

"N-Nothing!" you replied quickly, nodding toward the table. "Go ahead and sit down; I'll bring you some tea in a moment and change your compress!" You turned back around, and Seungcheol furrowed his brows.

Something was terribly wrong.

This time his alpha won. He stood before you with quick steps and gently grasped your shoulders, quite unlike the night you rescued him from the nightmare. He carefully turned you around to face him, and with wide eyes you looked up at him, tensing up and seemingly not breathing.

"Let me help you" he breathed softly and your lips trembled. "Tell me what's wrong and we'll find a solution."

He didn't take his eyes off you for the few seconds you were thinking before you quietly said: "My Pyperus herbs are nearly finished and I thought I still had some in here but I can't find them."

Seungcheol looked around the kitchen, which looked like utter chaos, before nodding. "Do you urgently need the herbs?"

"I have some today and tomorrow, but then they'll all be gone." You pressed your lips together, and Seungcheol didn't ask what kind of herbs they were or why you needed them so badly. He nodded and released your shoulders, but remained standing in front of you. "Do you think we can get some from the village? I think I have enough strength again to cover longer distances."

After a few seconds, you nodded weakly, and Seungcheol brushed a loose strand of your hair away from your face and murmured, "Lie down again, rest. I'll clean up here."

You offered no resistance, and the Alpha within Seungcheol purred at your obedience, before Seungcheol once again ignored it, watching as you left the room and closed the door behind you.

And so, here he was; with his Alpha, who seemed to have fixated on an Omega who wanted anything but companionship.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Tears welled in your eyes as you laid in bed, reflecting on the situation that had just unfolded in the kitchen.

You had taken such great care to ensure you had a massive stockpile, spending days gathering these very herbs back then, long before a gravely injured Seungcheol had landed on your doorstep. Precisely so you would never again face the problem that was now slowly rearing its head once more.

You had known the moment you opened your eyes this morning that your Omega instincts were more restless than usual. Far too restless. Your pulse had quickened the instant you rose from bed; you had hurried to the kitchen with rapid strides, feeling such immense relief that Seungcheol wasn't in the room at that moment, thinking you could simply down your tea laced with the suppressant herbs, and then everything would be fine again.

Until you saw that you had only two left. Two. Which was far too few.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out how the hell you could have failed to notice that your supply was running low. After all, didn't you take the herbs every single day? Had Seungcheol used some when he first tried his hand at brewing tea? Had you been so utterly consumed by life these past few days—so distracted by the joy and inner peace you felt—that you had lost the ability to think logically and simply repressed the fact that your damn stockpile was nearly depleted?

And now he knew what you were, exactly what you had been trying to avoid from the very beginning. You squeezed your eyes shut in desperation, trying to drown out your father’s words; words that had been relentlessly swirling through your mind ever since earlier.

"Be a good girl and do what Omegas do—obey him. You will ensure that your stepmother and I can live a good life; isn't that what you want? Be a good Omega, Y/N."

Angrily, you bit down on your lower lip, and when you tasted the metallic tang of blood, you buried your face even deeper into the pillow. By now, it smelled far too strongly of Seungcheol—a scent that worked in direct opposition to the effects of the herb. Your Omega refused to be still. Refused to be suppressed. She wanted him. Her Alpha.

It’s a shame that you would never allow things to go that far, no matter how much you might suffer in the process.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The next day, the two of you set off for the village.

Early this morning, you used up your very last leaf and drank your tea with trembling hands. You constantly evaded Seungcheol’s gaze, ceaselessly fighting against your hammering pulse and surging blood.

Seungcheol had no idea how to help, what to say to make you feel at least a little bit better, or which words would help you calm down.

So he said nothing and walked silently beside you through the forest.

You had pulled up the hood of your jacket, and the closer you drew to the village, the more tense you—and he—became. What if Sinyoung soldiers were there and recognized him? How should he protect himself with this wound and more imporant, how should he protect you in that process?

His gaze drifted toward you.

You, too, apparently wanted to avoid being recognized at all costs—though Seungcheol did not know the reason why. But it wasn't his place to know, anyway.

They each had but a single objective: you were to buy your herbs, and he was to write his letter.

Just before you stepped out of the forest, you nodded in a specific direction. "Keep to the right at the marketplace and go into the pink building. You can write your letter there."

Seungcheol followed your gaze and nodded in agreement before turning his eyes back to you. "Where will I find you?"

You pointed toward the center of the marketplace, where a massive tree provided shade for the market. "I'll be waiting for you under the tree. It shouldn't take long with the herbs." You adjusted your basket on your arm once more.

Then you looked up at him with a sad smile, and Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat at your next words. "I know how important your letter is to you, but…" you hesitated, then looked at him pleadingly, "please don't mention my home, okay?"

Seungcheol nodded and murmured, „I'll just write that I'm alive."

"Promise?" you asked with a soft whisper and Seungcheols heart clenched.

"Promise."

You nodded in relief and then set off toward the herbs. Seungcheol watched you go for a few seconds, his heart already heavy with the weight of the promise, and then made his own way to the post station.

He did not address the letter by name. He knew exactly what he had to write, or to whom he had to address it, to ensure it reached his friends.

Seungcheol stood facing the wall, penning his letter in rapid strokes. He wrote that he was alive; he asked if everyone was well and if they had all managed to find a hiding place. He asked if they had heard anything from Chan. He wrote that he wanted to return soon, but that they needed a plan, and—

Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut in despair. He was a king. He had a kingdom to save from this tyrant, yet he had also made a promise to you. And your eyes—god, your pleading eyes when you begged him not to mention anything about your home—how could he possibly do that to you?

But he did not know if his mother was still alive. He did not know if his friends were safe.

He remembered the screames from the day they were attacked; the blood filling the ground and the lifeless eyes staring up to the sky. The head of his father, rolling across the floor.

"A king does not simply give up, Seungcheol. He stands tall and defends his people. For they are our entire pride."

The words of his father ringed and his ear and Seungcheol made a decision.

He had to face his responsibility as a king. Even if it meant letting you down.

He wrote one final sentence and then handed in the letter.