Archive of Our Own

☽

At the end of a winding dirt road stood a pale-green wooden house, two stories tall and comfortably worn by time. The mailbox read Dream’s, already stuffed with morning letters. Dawn hadn’t fully settled yet, just a sleepy stretch of sunlight, enough to brush the windows but not quite enough to brighten the house’ sunroom. Still, it was plenty to wake the oldest alpha of the house.

Mark stirred first, as he always did. The moment he tried to stretch, something warm tightened around his waist. He looked down and found a familiar tuft of chocolate hair, cheeks squished against his chest. Mark’s smile softened, his hand instinctively brushing through his mate’s hair.

“Five more minutes…” 

Mark hummed, already slipping out of the bed. His omega whined immediately, blinking up at him with betrayed, sleepy eyes before trailing after him to the bathroom.

“Didn’t you just ask for five more minutes?”

Donghyuck responded by biting his arm, not aggressively, just the usual morning grumpiness, and Mark laughed.

By the time they were brushing their teeth side-by-side, Renjun was already up. As second-in-command, he was always early, always prepared. 

He quietly washed up, dressed, and opened the door at the exact moment Mark knocked. They exchanged an easy smile, their daily ritual, before Renjun padded down the hallway to rouse Jeno and Chenle for morning patrol.

Mark checked on Jaemin’s room next, finding the alpha mid-stretch. They greeted each other with a nod and padded downstairs together.

Donghyuck finally emerged, hair messy but eyes brightening the moment he spotted Renjun.

“Morning, Junnie.” He wrapped his arms around him.

“You showered? That’s new,” Renjun teased, patting the omega’s hair.

“Such a rude beta…”

The house fell into its gentle, practiced routine. Jaemin and Donghyuck chatted about breakfast. Mark and Renjun discussed preparations for the approaching full moon. Jeno and Chenle were already gone, two gray blurs darting across the yard, shifting into their wolf forms the moment they reached the treeline.

By the time the sun was officially up, the house was alive. Renjun set the table, Mark washed berries at the sink, and Donghyuck was finishing what he dramatically called his sitcom breakfast special: pancakes, bacon, eggs, everything he claimed “a proper American morning needs.”

“Add more bacon,” Jaemin said as he sorted herbs for tea. “The patrol duo will want protein.”

“Right.” Donghyuck reached for the pack, then nodded toward the pancakes. “The pup’s plate is almost ready.”

Mark rinsed the berries. “Should I wake him?”

“Yeah,” Renjun said immediately. “Last time Hyuck went, they ended up asleep again.”

Donghyuck pointed his spatula at him. “He was warm and cozy. Anyone would’ve.”

Just as Mark was about to head upstairs, the sound of paws thudding on the porch caught his attention. He jogged to the door.

“Someone else wake the cub, please!” he called, already opening the door to get the report from Jeno and Chenle.

“I’ll go,” Jaemin said, handing the kettle off to Renjun.

Jaemin quickly got upstairs and tapped lightly on Jisung’s door. A muffled whine answered. The alpha smiled as he pushed the door open.

“Jisunggie~ Time to wake up.”

The room smelled like comfort, warm cub scent, soft and clean, the kind that tugged instinctively at every alpha’s protectiveness. Jaemin surveyed the desk, buried under worksheets, notebooks, and a laptop drowning in stickers. It was so Jisung-coded.

He approached the bed and let his calm scent drift gently over the sleeping figure.

“Come on, little cub,” he coaxed. “Up we go.”

A whimper and then a rustling of blankets, then Jisung peeked out of his hiding. He was puffy, his white curls were messy and fluffy, freckles were more pronounced in the morning light.

He looked absolutely adorable. 

“Morning, Hyung…” Jisung mumbled.

Jaemin didn't hold back and squished his cheeks. The pup whined in protest and retreated under the covers, making the alpha smile. 

Ever since the day he met Jisung, he couldn’t help it. He genuinely believed the pup was the cutest creature in the entire world. Sometimes the urge to squeeze him, to baby him, to coo at him was almost overwhelming.

But he held back. Mostly because Jisung embarrassed so easily, shying away with those pink cheeks and big eyes… and partly because the kid was growing into a real wolf now, his adulthood just months away.

Still, no matter how much Jisung grew, no matter how strong or mature he became,  he would always be their little wolf cub.

“Come on, Hyuck made you pancakes; if you don’t hurry, Chenle will inhale them all,” he said, patting him softly.

That did it. Jisung shot up, scrambled into an oversized sweater, and grabbed Jaemin’s wrist.

“Let's go, Hyung, hurry!” 

Jaemin laughed as he followed him downstairs.

☽

The dining room was, as always, a beautiful disaster.

Jeno and Chenle fought over bacon. Renjun judged them loudly. Donghyuck kept piling food onto Mark’s plate. Jaemin helped Jisung decorate his pancakes like it was a sacred ritual.

Many would assume it was simply because Jaemin was a caring hyung, always keeping an eye on the youngest. But the truth was far more practical: Jisung had very clumsy hands, and after the whipped-cream incident, no one was taking chances.

Last time, he’d tried decorating his pancakes and ended up making it look like it had snowed indoors.

Since then, the pup had been officially banned from touching the whipped cream. 

“Can I have berries, please?” Jisung asked.

Renjun passed them immediately. “Here, pup.” 

Jaemin added whipped cream, and Jisung carefully arranged the berries on top. It wasn’t perfect, since a few berries fell onto the plate, but it pleased the youngest.

Mark cleared his throat. “Thank you, Hyuck and Jaemin, for breakfast.” Both nodded. “Let’s eat well.”

As always, Mark took the first bite. 

Also, as always, Jisung took the second one enthusiastically. The pack watched him chew, cheeks adorably full, and each felt that warm thud of pride: their pup was healthy, fed, safe.

It was one of their most primal instincts as a pack, something woven deep into their bones. So every time they saw Jisung like that, safe, fed, content… They couldn’t help but feel a quiet, instinctive sense of accomplishment.

They began chatting about nothing and all, having a good breakfast together. 

As every day, just as everyone finished their plates, Jaemin stood up and went to the kitchen, preparing seven mugs of the morning tea. Today, he felt like preparing his Morning Harmony Blend, which had chamomile, lemon balm, rosemary, a touch of honey, and a few rose petals. 

“Perfect for keeping our scents stable and blending nicely in the morning. Good for omegas who wake up clingy.” 

The pack nodded, already drinking the tea, while Jisung got his special Cub Growth & Energy brew, its whole purpose to support a young wolf’s immune system and brain focus. Jisung's favorite ingredient was the crushed blackberries.

“Good for boosting up your brain,” Jaemin reminded him.

But it didn’t end there; their alpha healer took his role very seriously, and of course, he also delivered everyone’s daily supplements.

Jisung scowled at his pills.

“The pup doesn’t want them,” Chenle teased, sipping his tea dramatically.

“He knows he must,” Jaemin said, ruffling Jisung’s curls. “Right, Jisunggie?”

Jisung sighed heavily and swallowed them one by one, face scrunching. The others cooed at him until he swatted at them.

“Why is our healer so good at his job?” Donghyuck whined. “One mistake! Just once, so we can scold him.”

“At least he can wake the pup properly,” Jeno shot back.

Donghyuck gasped, grabbing Mark’s hand theatrically. “My own pack is bullying me. I’m so hurt right now.”

Laughter bubbled around the table. Even Mark snorted, earning a playful smack from his mate.

Then the house scattered.

Mark and Donghyuck vanished into their studio to work on music. The pack funds were managed mostly through a commercial business with other packs, but since they loved music, it couldn't hurt much to make some demos and sell them. Mark was usually the main producer, and Donghyuck would make the vocals and suggestions. 

Both bickered a lot because they were perfectionists. That's why their work was so good. 

Jeno packed his gym bag. He was a gym coach some days, he didn't need the job, but liked the energy so much that he accepted the request of being trained from time to time. He would also drop Chenle off at his basketball practice on the way. 

The baby alpha loved the sport so much that he was made the captain of the team despite his young age, and he was determined to pull off some cool plays. 

Both met at the door, and Jeno took the white i10's keys. They bickered over who was going to drive, although it was well-known that Chenle still couldn't drive. 

Renjun went to the pack's office on the second floor, handling finances. He would stay there a few hours before coming down to the sunroom, getting a canvas out, and preparing for an artistic afternoon. 

Jaemin slipped away from the breakfast chaos as soon as everyone settled into their own tasks, his steps light and familiar down the hallway that led to the small room the pack lovingly called the apothecary.

It was his sanctuary.

Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of dried leaves, roots tied in bundles, tinctures labeled in neat handwriting, and little cloth bags Renjun had crafted for him years ago. The air carried a permanent mix of jasmine, pine, and something distinctly Jaemin. Clean, calm, quietly strong.

Every morning started the same way. He opened his worn notebook and went through his checklist: inventory of herbs and medicinal plants, restocking the tea blends that ran low, checking the apothecary cabinet for missing tinctures, updating the medical charts of each packmate, adding notes on sleep, stress levels, scent fluctuations, shifting strain, injuries that “had healed”.

He worked with a practiced gentleness, touching each jar as if reassuring it, humming softly under his breath.

If he finished all his daily work, and if the pack didn’t barge in with unexpected scrapes or emotional emergencies, Jaemin allowed himself time for what he called “experiments”: tinkering with new recipes, perfecting digestives, adjusting energy boosters, or flipping through old herbal manuals Renjun had gifted him.

Today, he had something more important on his mind.

He pulled out a small wooden box filled with moonflower petals, dried mint, blackberry leaf, and a powdered root that smelled faintly of smoke. He had been planning this blend for weeks, a full moon recovery brew meant to soothe the post-shift aches that settled deep in the bones and replenish the raw energy that always burned too fast under moonlight.

“Something warm for their muscles… something grounding… something that pulls them back home,” he murmured to himself, already imagining the pack huddled around steaming mugs the morning after the full moon.

Jaemin’s work was never loud, never dramatic, but it was the quiet backbone of the house. The pack may not notice every detail, but they felt it, in the calm that settled after one of his teas,  in the way their bodies healed faster, in the comfort of knowing that someone, always, was keeping them whole.

And Jaemin liked it that way. He wasn’t the loudest wolf or the strongest, but he was the one who kept everyone stitched together. 

Herb by herb, brew by brew, day by day.

☽

Jisung wandered through the house, checking as his hyungs did exactly what he supposed they would do. Today was Friday, and his teacher called off their online 3-hour lecture, so he walked to this room calmly.

The moment he stepped inside, the scent of soft wolf musk and fresh pine greeted him. It was the natural smell Jisung carried, layered with the faint traces of each hyung who had visited recently. His space was bigger than a normal bedroom, mostly because the pack insisted the youngest deserved comfort, warmth, and space to grow.

The bed took up the entire left wall, oversized and drowning in blankets. Thick quilts piled on top of each other, one knitted by Renjun in muted earth colors, one fluffy and white gifted by Mark “because pups get cold,” and a bright green throw from Donghyuck that he claimed would “match Jisung’s gamer vibe.” The winter had turned Jisung into a burrowing creature, and his nest of pillows proved it: five, all mismatched, all clearly stolen from different rooms of the house.

Near the bed, a large window framed the forest outside. Condensation fogged the lower corners from how warm Jisung liked to keep his room. A tiny wolf-shaped sticker (Chenle’s doing) was stuck in one corner, and a dangling sun catcher hung from the curtain rod, a gift from Jaemin meant to “help keep good dreams around.”

The desk, however, was absolute chaos.

Peak end-of-semester disaster.

Stacks of notes scribbled on loose paper, textbooks lying open and facedown, highlighters without caps, a crumpled hoodie draped over the chair, and his laptop covered in stickers: wolves, stars, random memes, and a tiny “Dream Pack ♥” one that Donghyuck put on when Jisung wasn't looking. A half-finished cup of Jaemin’s focus tea sat by the keyboard, now cold but still smelling faintly of apple and mint.

He sat down to analyze his last assignment.  

“Just a few more corrections,” he muttered. “This should be a hundred.”

He quickly started reviewing it for the last time. And before he noticed it, Jisung nodded approvingly and hit upload without hesitation, closing his laptop and going directly to his favorite place:

His gamer zone.

A low TV stand with his console wired in, controllers stacked neatly, well, neatly for Jisung, and the two oversized puffs placed right in front of the screen. Green, of course. The color showed up everywhere in his room: on his keyboard, on his fluffy carpet, in the LED strip lining the back of his desk, even in the little succulent that Jaemin watered for him every few days because Jisung always forgot.

The puffs were positioned so two people could play comfortably, because Jisung would rather play with his hyungs than alone. Jeno often dropped in after gym, and Chenle turned up with snacks. Once in a while, even Jaemin sat there, pretending he didn’t enjoy losing to the youngest.

He has now decided to practice to finally beat Jeno in that one video game; it should be Jisung’s time for victory. He couldn’t wait to laugh at Jeno’s face. Oh, yeah, this day was going to be perfect.

At least, it was supposed to be.

Jisung kicked his feet happily on the green puff, fingers flying over the controller. The cheerful music of Mario Kart filled the room, bouncing off posters and piles of notes. Everything felt soft and warm, the kind of morning where nothing bad should happen.

But mid-race, something tugged at the edge of his awareness. 

A shift in the air. A flutter in his chest.

He ignored it. Probably just nerves from the end-of-semester stress. Or maybe he was hungry. Or maybe Hyuck had burned something downstairs again.

But the sensation came again, stronger this time. A prickling along the back of his neck. His wolf stirred uneasily under his skin, ears flicking at something he couldn’t hear yet.

Then halfway through the third race, something shifted.

At first, Jisung blamed the sudden tightness in his chest on the game, on the flashing colors, the rapid turns, the stupid blue shell that always found him. But then the room felt… louder. 

Too loud. 

The hum of his PC tower throbbed in his ears. The faint drip of the radiator tapped against his skull like a hammer. Even the soft rustle of his own breath sounded wrong, too sharp at the edges.

His wolf twitched beneath his skin, restless and confused.

“Okay… okay, chill,” he whispered, pressing pause. 

Except the silence wasn’t silence at all; it rang, buzzing like static. His heart kicked harder. His fingers trembled over the controller.

He tried to stand and nearly stumbled.

Everything was too warm, too tight, too everything. His clothes clinging, his skin prickling, heat curling low in his stomach in a way he didn’t understand. His scent spiked sharply, unfamiliar even to him, and that scared him most.

“Let’s calm down,” he breathed, gripping his head. 

His wolf wasn’t listening. It clawed at him, instinct rising fast and messy, scrambling to latch onto anything, anyone, because he couldn’t focus, couldn’t anchor on one single thing. 

His vision blurred at the edges. The room tilted.

Jisung barely made it onto his bed before collapsing onto the blankets, curling in on himself as the overwhelming rush clawed through him. Every shift of fabric against his skin felt like too much, every breath like it scraped raw on the inside. He didn’t want to make a scene, didn’t want to be dramatic. He kept telling himself it couldn’t be that serious.

But it was. It was so much worse.

A helpless sound tore out of him, high and thin, a whine he hadn’t meant to make. He tried to speak, to call for someone properly, but the words jammed in his throat, swallowed by the rising panic and heat. So he whined again, louder this time, because his hyungs always came when he called.

Heat rolled through him in thick waves, coating his body in a suffocating warmth that made his limbs shake. He didn’t know how to stop it. Didn’t know how to stop any of this. So he kept whining, voice cracking, desperate for someone to hear.

Downstairs, Jaemin paused mid–tea brew, head snapping up. The soft sound, barely audible but unmistakable, threaded straight through his instincts. Confused, he set the strainer aside and hurried out of his workspace, quickly getting upstairs only to nearly collide with Renjun stepping out of the office, the same alarm flickering in their eyes.

“Did you hear… Jisung whining?” Renjun asked.

Mark and Donghyuck then came out of the studio, also confused.

The next sound wasn’t a whine.

It was a cry.

All four bolted at once, instincts hitting hard and fast, the unspoken collective need to reach their youngest. Because nothing, nothing made a wolf move faster than a distressed cub calling for his pack.

They found him curled tightly on his bed, small and trembling, and it hit all of them at once, that crushing twist in the chest that came from seeing their pup in pain.

Jaemin moved first, instincts sharp and automatic. The healer in him surged to the surface as he crossed the room in quick steps and crouched low beside the bed, trying to catch a glimpse of Jisung’s face between his shaking arms.

“Hey, hey, pup,” he murmured, brushing trembling fingers through Jisung’s hair. “Are you hurt? Can you tell Hyung where it hurts?”

Jisung flinched at the sound but leaned, just barely, into the touch.

Donghyuck was right behind him, his omega instincts kicking in with equal force, soft, grounding, designed to soothe. He climbed carefully onto the bed, moving with deliberate gentleness as he settled beside Jisung. His scent rolled out warm and steady, meant to anchor and comfort.

“We’re here, Jisunggie,” he whispered, voice soft enough to melt into the blankets. “You’re not alone. Your pack is right here.”

Between the two of them, the air shifted, warmth replacing panic, presence replacing the crushing loneliness Jisung hadn’t known how to voice.

Mark had been hovering near the foot of the bed, trying to track every sound Jisung made, every shiver, every sharp inhale. And then something in the air shifted, something so familiar it made his wolf snap to attention.

It clicked. Hard.

“He’s presenting,” Mark breathed, stunned.

The room froze. All eyes swung to him at once.

Renjun’s face went pale. “P-Presenting? But he was fine yesterday. We didn’t see any signs, right? Jaemin?” His voice cracked on the question, panic threading through it.

But Jaemin didn’t answer immediately. He looked wrecked, guilt and realization dawning all at once. The healer in him had missed it, and that cut deep.

“…It makes sense,” he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

He reached out and cupped Jisung’s cheek, feeling the blazing heat rolling off him. “He’s burning up. And the whining, he can’t stop because his wolf is overwhelmed.”

Gently, he tilted Jisung’s face up to check his eyes. They were glassy, unfocused, struggling to track anything.

“Jisunggie,” Jaemin coaxed softly, “do you feel overwhelmed? Like your wolf is trying to break out of your skin?”

Jisung nodded hard, breath stuttering.

A collective exhale rippled through the room. They knew what to do. This wasn’t new to the pack, they had handled presentations before. It was sudden, yes, but not unfamiliar terrain. And Mark’s leadership instinct snapped into place immediately.

“Jaemin,” Mark said, steady and commanding, “prepare everything you need to treat him. If you’re missing anything, message Jeno and he’ll buy it on the way home.”

Jaemin nodded sharply and stood.

The moment he stepped out of the room, Jisung let out a choked, instinctive cry, high and desperate at the sudden absence of a stabilizing alpha presence. Donghyuck flinched at the sound, tightening his hold. Mark’s heart clenched.

“Renjun,” Mark continued, “go with him. Help with whatever he needs.”

“On it.” Renjun hurried out after Jaemin.

Mark turned back to the bed, voice dropping to a low, soothing rumble. “Hyuck, we keep scenting him. He’s going to need constant comfort.”

Donghyuck didn’t need to be told twice. He was already curled around Jisung’s back, whispering soft reassurances as he laced calming strokes down the trembling curve of Jisung’s spine. His scent rolled out warm and steady, protective.

Mark climbed onto the other side of the bed, pressing in close so the pup was nestled safely between them. He let his own alpha scent blend with Donghyuck’s, enveloping Jisung in something steady, familiar, safe.

Slowly, very slowly, the tremors in Jisung’s body eased, his frantic breaths softening as he melted between his hyungs, surrounded on all sides by pack, scent, and warmth.

☽

Jaemin and Renjun returned quickly, breathless but fully prepared. Their arms were loaded: Jaemin’s medical kit, an aromatic candle to ground Jisung’s frantic senses, a bowl of cool water with a fresh towel, noise-cancelling headphones for his overstimulated ears, and a small pouch of herbs Jaemin had clearly been blending on the way up.

Jaemin slipped instantly back into his healer role, voice calm but firm.

“Hyuck, keep the towel cool. Lay it over his belly, that’s where the heat spikes the worst.”

Donghyuck nodded as Renjun handed him the wet towel. He pressed it gently against Jisung’s stomach, humming soft reassurance.

“Let’s keep our voices low,” Jaemin continued, already lighting the candle and placing it on the nightstand. “And keep our scents steady. No spikes. He’s already overwhelmed.”

Mark watched him work, eyes flicking to the herbs Jaemin was crushing. “What are you making?”

“A stabilizer,” Jaemin murmured, grinding with practiced motions. “His hypersensitivity is peaking. His hormones and wolf instincts are fighting each other, trying to settle into their new order. He needs more than a simple tea.”

“He needs the pack,” Mark said quietly.

A small smile twitched on Jaemin’s mouth. “Exactly.”

He sat on the edge of the bed to prepare the brew, Renjun efficiently passing each ingredient into his steady hands.

“Oh, Jeno’s already on the way,” Renjun added. “He’ll bring syringes, just in case we need to medicate him.”

At the word syringes, Jisung whimpered, barely a sound, but sharp with fear. Mark moved immediately, slipping the noise-cancelling headphones over Jisung’s ears and resuming the gentle circles on his back. Donghyuck snuggled closer, nuzzling against the pup’s neck, scenting him with soft, comforting warmth.

Mark watched Jisung tremble beneath their touch, the tension rippling through him in tight waves that never fully released. His instincts hummed with something he couldn’t quite name.

“His presentation is different… isn’t it?” Mark finally said.

Jaemin’s hands stilled over the herbs.

Mark swallowed, eyes fixed on the pup curled against him. “I can feel it,” he murmured, almost reverent. “He’s becoming something… incredible. I can’t define it. I don’t even understand what my wolf is reacting to. But I know he’s going to be so much more than we expected.”

Donghyuck let out a soft, affirming hum, the kind that communicated instinct deeper than words.

“He’s right,” Hyuck whispered, nose brushing the warm skin behind Jisung’s ear. “His scent… It’s changing already. That neutral wolf smell he’s always had? It’s almost gone.” He inhaled again, slower this time, almost in awe. “This one is stronger. Sharper. Like it’s trying to bloom.”

Jaemin’s eyes drifted back to the trembling pup, and something tight twisted in his chest.

“I let him down.” The others snapped their attention to him immediately. “I should have noticed,” Jaemin continued, voice low and cracking at the edges. “That’s my job. I kept telling him he didn’t have to worry about presenting because I’d know, and we’d be ready. I promised him that.”

Renjun didn’t hesitate. He smacked the back of Jaemin’s head. “Don’t be dramatic,” he scolded. “And stop being a jerk to yourself.”

Jaemin winced, rubbing the spot. “Ow-”

“He’s right,” Donghyuck added, though his voice stayed soft, careful not to spike Jisung’s senses. “Jisung was stressed with finals. Lack of sleep, overworking, sensory overload… His symptoms could’ve fooled anyone. Even you.” His tone warmed. “And you’re the best healer we have, Nana.”

Mark nodded firmly. “Besides, trust me. He’s different. This isn’t like any presentation we’ve seen.”

Something about the certainty in the alpha’s voice hit Jaemin like a pulse of instinct.

He inhaled again, deeper this time, letting the pup’s scent sink in, and then-

He felt it.

The shift. The bloom.

The new note in Jisung’s scent that didn’t belong to a mere presenting wolf but something rarer, stronger, still forming. It curled in Jaemin’s lungs, addictive and warm, lighting up instincts he didn’t know how to decipher.

His eyes dilated before he could stop them, and for a moment, he just breathed, his hands trembling around the herbs.

Then Jisung stirred. His eyes cracked open, unfocused and glossy, but somehow he still found Jaemin in the chaos.

“Jaeminnie… Hyung…” he breathed, barely a whisper, before his lashes fluttered shut again and the overwhelming tide dragged him under.

That single, fragile call hit Jaemin like an oath. He straightened with renewed fire in his chest.

No more hesitation. No more guilt.

His little wolf needed him, his pack’s pup was depending on him, and Jaemin would not fail him again.

He got to work twice as hard, hands swift, precise, and trembling only with devotion.

☽

By the time Jeno and Chenle arrived, the pup’s room barely resembled a college student's room anymore. It had been transformed into a pack-safe space.

Donghyuck had worked methodically, building a nest around Jisung with blankets carrying each member’s scent, piling them into a warm cocoon. He had added soft pillows, plush throws, anything that could ground the overwhelmed pup. Renjun stayed busy too, dragging chairs from the hallway and unfolding a small table so Jaemin could organize every medical supply he might possibly need.

And Jaemin had filled that table to the brim.

Herbs, balms, cooling gels, thermometers, tinctures, towels, and, on the far corner, the medication he prayed he wouldn’t have to use.

Mark stood guard beside the bed, having set up a spot for Jaemin to monitor Jisung’s vitals, though he and Donghyuck remained curled around the pup, scenting him and keeping him grounded.

At the sudden influx of new pack scents, Jisung’s eyelids fluttered. He cracked them open and blinked wearily toward the door. Taking one headphone off. 

“Jeno… Chenle…”

Both alphas offered small, gentle smiles, instinctively hiding the syringe behind their backs to avoid spiking his fear.

“Hey, little cub,” Jeno murmured, keeping his tone soft as he handed the pack of supplies to Renjun without letting Jisung see. “We’re here for you.”

Jisung whimpered and shut his eyes again, and Jeno’s smile dropped instantly. Mark put him on the headphones properly. 

“How is he?” Chenle asked quietly, stepping closer to Jaemin’s workspace.

Jaemin didn’t look up, hands moving with controlled precision as he prepared another brew. “His hormones are still rearranging. He has hypersensitivity, a fever, and his wolf is in overdrive. Cooling him down is the priority before we can evaluate the rest.”

Without looking away from his work, he added, “Can someone grab the training cup from downstairs? He won’t spill from that.”

Renjun had already vanished before Jaemin even finished speaking. Jaemin huffed a soft, fond chuckle.

Jeno pulled a chair by the door, his protective nature making him be alert, expression grave as he watched the pup tremble under the blankets. “Why now? I thought he had a couple of months left.”

Mark sighed, eyes fixed on the nest. “He’s different. We think he might be becoming something… more.”

Jeno didn’t answer. His jaw tightened as he processed the idea, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

Donghyuck continued replacing the towel on Jisung’s stomach whenever it warmed. He hummed soft reassurance against Jisung’s shoulder, until the pup’s body suddenly stiffened.

A low, shaky growl rumbled in Jisung’s chest.

“Jisunggie?” Donghyuck whispered.

The pup’s eyes snapped open. Before anyone could react, he ripped off the headphones and, instinct-blind, lunged at Donghyuck.

The bite was clumsy. His small fangs barely grazed skin. But Donghyuck still jerked back with a sharp warning growl.

Mark froze in shock. Then Jisung turned toward him too, eyes unfocused, instincts feral, and snapped again.

Wrong move.

Mark’s wolf surged. His eyes flashed, pupils blown wide with dominance. In one swift motion he grabbed the back of Jisung’s neck, pressing firmly to ground him, and released a deep, commanding roar right into the trembling pup’s face.

Jisung whimpered small, pitiful, and went limp, body collapsing into immediate submission.

Jaemin and Jeno tensed, instincts flaring, while Chenle took a step back, his young alpha instincts unsure how to react to the intensity.

Donghyuck fixed the situation first. He adjusted his scent, softening it, smoothing the tension in the air until both Mark and Jisung calmed.

Slowly, the pup crawled closer to Mark and pressed into his side, shaking.

“I-I’m sorry,” he hiccuped, voice breaking as he looked up at his hyungs with watery eyes. “I—didn’t mean to—I didn’t want to—”

Mark and Donghyuck immediately pulled him close, soothing him with gentle touches and low rumbles.

“It’s okay, pup.”

“Nothing happened. You’re safe.”

The room felt bruised with hurt, Jisung’s confusion, the pack’s worry, the heaviness of instincts gone awry.

Renjun returned just then, blinking at the tension in the air. Jeno leaned in to whisper what had happened while Jaemin retrieved the training cup and poured the finished brew inside.

It was lukewarm, safe, and the steam carried a soft, calming fragrance.

Jaemin approached slowly, lowering himself to Jisung’s eye level, waiting until the overwhelmed pup noticed him. When Jisung focused on him without flinching, Jaemin offered a relieved smile.

“Pup,” he said gently, showing him the cup, “I need you to drink this, okay? It’ll help.”

Jisung blinked slowly… then inhaled.

“Fresh mint…” he murmured. “And… a mix of herbal fragrance…”

The entire room froze.

Chenle whispered, stunned, “He’s describing Jaemin’s scent?”

Jeno nodded quickly, shushing him.

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Mark, who seemed to have reached the same unspoken conclusion. Neither said a word.

Jaemin blinked, then finally caught the silent request coming from the trembling pup in front of him. His scent unfurled gently, soft, warm, careful, just enough to wrap around Jisung without overwhelming him.

The pup breathed out, the relief immediate.

“Come on, pup,” Jaemin urged, giving the cup a tiny shake. “You need to drink this.”

Jisung groaned, cheeks warming.

“…It’s a baby cup…”

That earned a round of quiet chuckles. Even like this, shaky, glassy-eyed, fever-soft, Jisung was still impossibly precious.

“Yeah,” Jaemin agreed lightly, “and it won’t spill all over you.” He took Jisung’s hand gently, guiding the cup into it.

Jisung shifted to settle more comfortably, and Mark and Donghyuck adjusted with him automatically, instinct syncing without thought. He sniffed the drink first, eyes a little unfocused, then looked at Jaemin for confirmation. Jaemin nodded.

Only then did Jisung start slurping at the warm brew. It took a bit of effort but he consistently continued drinking it, each gulp making the pup visibly more calmed. 

Mark and Donghyuck couldn't look away, feeling so pleased to see their pup like that. 

Jaemin’s chest eased, a tender warmth rising at how quickly the pup relaxed under his care. It made him feel steady again. Renewed. He moved to grab the thermometer without hesitation. 

Renjun was already kneeling beside them, taking Jisung’s temperature once more. “Good. He’s cooling down.”

“Alright,” he added, scribbling something, “he’ll get drowsy soon. After that, I’ll check the rest of his symptoms.”

“This’ll be over by tonight, right?” Chenle asked, voice a little too tight. “He’ll be okay and eat dinner with us?”

The question made something click. Chenle might be older than Jisung, but he was still a young alpha. His instincts were probably twisting with confusion, trying to understand why his packmate was suffering.

Jeno was the one to stand and ruffle his head, eyesmiling. “Of course, Lele. He’s just overheated and overwhelmed. He’ll bounce back before you even finish whining about dinner portions.”

Chenle puffed, but the reassurance worked. 

The pack settled as Jisung finished his drink, Jaemin gently took away the baby cup, and patted his chest lightly. Then the pup slowly drifted to dreamland. 

☽

By four in the afternoon, the entire pack had drifted into a light, instinctive sleep.

Mark and Donghyuck were curled protectively around Jisung, whose breathing had settled into the heavy, peaceful rhythm of deep rest. Downstairs, Jeno and Chenle dozed on opposite ends of the couch, half-asleep, half-alert, their alpha instincts keeping quiet watch over the house.

Renjun had finally sat down for “just a moment,” and his accumulated stress pulled him under almost instantly. 

Only Jaemin stayed awake.

He fought the drowsiness tugging at him, blinking hard as he remained stationed beside Jisung. He had already rubbed a calming balm across the pup’s chest and checked for any tenderness. None, thankfully. Now all he could do was wait for Jisung to wake up and tell him how his body felt.

His gaze never left him.

He looked so small there, tucked between Mark and Donghyuck, as a fragile pup pressed into the safest corner of the den, soaking up every bit of comfort he could get. 

Jisung’s white curls were a complete mess, sticking out in every direction. His freckles stood out more when he slept, soft and unguarded, lips parted as he exhaled in the tiniest puffs. Every rise and fall of his chest made Jaemin’s shoulders loosen a little more, a quiet reassurance that the pup he cherished was slowly coming back to himself. 

Then it happened slowly, first a twitch of Jisung’s fingers, then a soft whine slipping past his lips. Jaemin straightened immediately, the fog of sleep evaporating as he leaned in.

“Pup?” he whispered.

Jisung’s lashes fluttered, his glassy eyes unfocused as he tried to blink the world into place. His breathing hitched, and Jaemin could practically see the moment his instincts came rushing back in. Sharp, overwhelming, confused.

Another tiny whimper.

“Easy… I’m right here,” Jaemin murmured, reaching out but not quite touching in case the pup startled again.

But Jisung solved that for him.

He suddenly grabbed weakly at Jaemin’s hoodie, fist tightening like he had been drowning and finally found something solid. He tugged, desperate, pleading, until Jaemin moved closer.

“Oh… sweetheart…” Jaemin exhaled, heart squeezing. 

Jisung’s voice came out small, raw around the edges.

“Hyung… warm… need—” He cut himself off, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with instinctual need he probably didn’t even understand yet. He burrowed closer anyway, nuzzling against Jaemin’s stomach, seeking that scent, that comfort, that calm.

Mark stirred but didn’t wake; Donghyuck cracked one eye open, smirked knowingly, and then went back to pretending to sleep. 

Jaemin guided Jisung gently, one hand hovering at his back, the other brushing soft curls from his forehead.

“Are you feeling achy?” he asked quietly.

Jisung shook his head against him. “J-Just… you. Want you.” His voice trembled with exhaustion and neediness, not intention.

Jaemin’s breath caught for a moment.

“Okay, pup,” he whispered, letting himself lie down on the bed beside him. “I’ve got you. Come here.”

Jisung didn’t need to be told twice. He melted into Jaemin instantly, arms looping weakly around his torso, face pressed into the crook of his neck like it was the only place in the world he could breathe properly. His soft, relieved exhale warmed Jaemin’s skin.

“There you go…” Jaemin murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You’re safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jisung hummed, fully content for the first time in hours. His fingers tightened around Jaemin’s hoodie once more, as if to anchor himself.

“Did he wake up?” Mark mumbled, blinking groggily as his eyes searched automatically for the pup.

“He’s with Jaeminnie~” Donghyuck sing-songed, far too smug for someone who had just woken up.

Mark squinted at him. “Why do you sound like that?”

Jaemin hushed them without looking up, one hand stroking slow circles on Jisung’s back. “I think he’s… high on hormones,” he whispered, feeling the way the pup practically melted into every brush of his scent. “He’s going to be really unstable. We need to be careful around him.”

Mark nodded and stretched, only for his stomach to betray him loudly. Donghyuck snorted. 

“Great timing. I’m starving. Since Jaemin has officially been claimed as Puppy Comfort Station, I’m going to get food.” He patted his belly dramatically and strutted out.

Jaemin tried to hold back a laugh.

“Go eat, Hyung,” he told Mark when he saw him hesitate.

Mark gave him a sheepish smile before following Donghyuck downstairs. Renjun, sensing movement or maybe hearing the word food, blinked awake and trudged after them.

And just like that, the room quieted. Peaceful. Warm.

Jisung was curled against Jaemin’s chest, breathing as he’d finally found someplace he could rest. Jaemin brushed a curl away from his forehead, already planning the next steps.

The pup could use another soothing tea.

He waited until Jisung loosened his grip, until his breathing evened out, and then Jaemin very, very gently tried to slip away.

Wrong move.

Jisung growled, low and warning, his fingers instantly tightening on Jaemin’s hoodie. Jaemin inhaled, ready to growl right back to reassert calm, but then—

A tiny, miserable whimper. The kind that stabbed straight through Jaemin’s chest.

He sighed, cupped the pup’s nape, and guided his face up just enough to meet his eyes. “I’m just going to make you another tea.”

“Don’t want tea.” Jisung scowled, his voice rumbling with instinct he didn’t understand. “Want you.”

Jaemin’s lips twitched. “Such a grumpy pup,” he murmured.

He leaned in, nuzzling the side of Jisung’s neck, letting his nose brush lightly over the pup’s scent gland. Jisung instantly went boneless, a soft, helpless sound escaping him.

And that’s when Jaemin inhaled.

Sweet.

Berries and honey. Warm night air. 

Something new… 

Something omega.

It punched the breath out of him.

He didn’t remember tipping Jisung back, didn’t remember bracing over him. Only that suddenly Jisung was beneath him, pupils blown, drowning in the scent Jaemin hadn’t realized he was releasing.

He looked so small. So trusting. His neck bared without even meaning to, like he was asking to be held. Claimed. Protected.

Jaemin’s chest ached.

“Jaemin.”

A growl crackled through the air, deep, sharp. 

He snapped his head up. Donghyuck stood in the doorway, body tense, eyes locked on him. Jaemin froze. Because that growl… That warning… It hadn’t come from Donghyuck.

It had come from him.

Donghyuck didn’t move from the doorway. His posture was relaxed enough not to alarm Jisung, but his eyes, sharp, assessing, were locked on Jaemin.

“Jaemin,” he said again, softer this time. “Hey. Look at me.”

Jaemin’s breath was ragged.

Everything in him was stretched tight, instinct clawing up his spine, the urge to keep anyone away from the fragile pup beneath him simmering hot in his veins. His fingers were still curved at the back of Jisung’s neck, too possessive, too firm.

And he hated how natural it felt.

Donghyuck took one careful step inside.

“You need to breathe,” he murmured, voice soothing but laced with authority. “Listen to me, not your instincts. You’re slipping.”

Jaemin shook his head once, sharp, confused. “I… I’m not—”

“You growled at me.” Donghyuck’s tone wasn’t angry. It was factual. Grounding.

Jaemin blinked.

The realization hit him like ice water.

He growled. At Donghyuck. Over Jisung.

His hand immediately flinched away from the pup’s neck. Jisung whined in confusion, reaching for him again, but the sound only spiraled Jaemin further.

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I wasn’t… thinking.”

“I know.” Donghyuck approached slowly, palms up, keeping his scent neutral, not challenging, not comforting Jisung too strongly. “That’s why you need to pull back. Right now.”

Jaemin pushed himself upright, heart pounding. His whole body felt wrong, too hot, too wired. He backed off the bed and stood beside it, gripping the edge to steady himself.

Donghyuck placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him with a firm squeeze.

“It’s your instincts reacting to his scent,” he said quietly. “He’s presenting. It’s okay to feel it. But you can’t let it take over.”

Jaemin swallowed hard.

He looked down at his hands, shaking. His chest felt too tight, breath too shallow. He couldn’t believe he had been hovering over Jisung like that. He couldn’t believe he’d let instinct override sense.

“I’ve never reacted like that before,” he murmured, horrified.

Donghyuck huffed gently. “Yeah, no kidding. You almost bit me.”

Jaemin’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

Donghyuck raised both hands. “Almost. Relax. If you’d actually meant to attack, we’d be having this conversation with Mark holding you down.”

That… didn’t help much.

But Donghyuck smiled, softer this time. “Look, Jaemin… whatever Jisung is becoming? It’s doing something to all of us. You’re not broken. You’re not dangerous. You just got overwhelmed.”

Jaemin’s throat tightened. He glanced at Jisung. 

The pup was watching him through half-lidded, unfocused eyes, hand stretched out as if he couldn’t understand why Jaemin wasn’t holding him anymore.

And Jaemin felt guilt crash through him.

“I scared him,” he whispered.

“No,” Donghyuck said firmly. “You scared yourself. And that’s good. It means you’re still you.”

Jaemin pressed a shaky hand to his mouth, eyes burning, breath stuttering.

Donghyuck stepped closer and lowered his voice.

“Come back to yourself, Jaeminnie. We need you clear-headed. He needs you clear-headed.”

Jaemin nodded, once, twice, breathing deeper each time until the world slowly stopped spinning. The heat inside his chest receded into something manageable. His instincts settled back into silence.

Then-

“…Hyung…?” Jisung’s soft, sleepy voice pulled both their heads toward him.

He was reaching again, eyes glossy, absolutely unaware of the chaos he had just caused. And Jaemin’s heart cracked.

Donghyuck squeezed his shoulder one last time. “Go to him,” he murmured. “But stay present. Stay you.”

Jaemin finally moved back to the bed, cautious, gentle, human again.

And Jisung immediately melted into him, sighing in pure relief.

Jaemin held him, but this time with intention. With control. With awareness of exactly how close he’d come to losing it.

And he whispered into the pup’s hair. “I’m here, pup… I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Even if he didn’t quite understand what he was turning into either.

☽

Jaemin had finally convinced the pup to let him stand up long enough to brew a fresh cup of tea. Jisung had protested, grumbled, even snapped half-heartedly, but with Mark and Donghyuck sliding back to his sides, he eventually released his death grip on Jaemin’s shirt.

Now the alpha was mixing herbs for something that might help stabilize those wild hormonal mood swings. He knew it probably wouldn’t fix much, but a warm cup of comfort never hurt anyone.

Meanwhile, Chenle had taken it upon himself to be the entertainment of the hour.

“And then I tried to pass the ball to Kim,” he said, gesturing dramatically from where he sat on the floor, “but you know how he is. Clumsy hands, man. I swear he could drop his own shadow.”

Jisung let out a tiny laugh, the sound weak but genuine.

“He’s terrible at catching,” Chenle continued proudly, “but he blocks like a beast.”

Renjun took a slow sip of the tea he’d brewed for himself with Jaemin’s stress-relief blend. “I’ll never understand that sport,” he muttered, adjusting himself on his puff.

“It’s easy,” Jeno said with a grin. “You cheer when Chenle gets the ball through the hoop. And if he doesn’t, you laugh at him.”

“HYUNG!”

Chenle grabbed a pillow and launched it at him. Jeno immediately scrambled up to deliver soft but rapid-fire hits while Chenle tried to shield his face.

“Okay, okay—! I surrender!”

The room filled with soft snickers, and Jisung’s second laugh was a little stronger this time. Mark rolled his eyes, clearing his throat like a tired dad, and that alone made the two younger alphas sit back down.

Donghyuck, who had been drifting in and out of sleep, nuzzled closer to Jisung again, wrapping an arm around the pup’s waist with a content hum.

Things finally felt settled again.

Jaemin glanced over while pouring the tea, heart warm at the sight of his pack keeping Jisung grounded, even through the grumpiness, even through the mood swings. 

They were doing well.

And Jisung, tucked again between Donghyuck and Mark, looked a little less lost than before.

The pack felt noticeably steadier now that they finally understood what was happening. Jisung was presenting as an omega. 

The moment the truth settled, so did they. Instinct had them sticking close, letting their scents blend softly in the air, reminding their pup that he wasn’t going through this alone. They hovered, drifted near, brushed shoulders and hands, all unconsciously offering support through contact and familiarity.

Jeno and Renjun had taken charge of preparing the nest room for Jisung’s first night. For once, they were genuinely thankful Donghyuck had stubbornly insisted years ago that every pack needed a dedicated nest space. It had mostly been his territory, since he was the only omega in the pack, occasionally borrowed by Renjun on bad days… but now it was perfect. Soft, warm, padded with the scent of everyone he loved.

A safe place for their pup to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of his pack.

Once Jaemin had made sure Jisung drank every last drop of the soothing tea, Donghyuck took over. The pup had tried to refuse a bath, weakly, stubbornly, but he didn’t stand a chance against Donghyuck’s particular brand of gentle insistence. Before he knew it, he was in the warm tub, being washed with soft, careful hands.

Meanwhile, Jaemin and Renjun headed downstairs to throw together a quick but nourishing dinner for their exhausted pack. Jeno and Chenle slipped outside for their night patrol, and Mark, fresh from his shower and now in pajamas, busied himself moving Jisung’s quilts and pillows into the pack nest.

Back in the bathroom, Donghyuck hummed a quiet, melodic tune as he gathered the pup’s clothes: an oversized sweater and soft, comfy pants. He toweled Jisung’s hair dry with practiced familiarity, then began working through his haircare routine to keep the curls soft and fluffy.

“You and I are going shopping soon,” Donghyuck said as he gently applied a curl cream. “New skincare, and a few omega supplies you’re going to need.”

Jisung froze. Color rushed to his cheeks, and his gaze dropped instantly to his hands. His scent tightened, fear and denial curling faintly at the edges.

Donghyuck exhaled softly, finishing the last curl before crouching down in front of him. “What’s wrong, pup?”

Donghyuck watched him fidget, shoulders curling in. It took a moment, but finally Jisung lifted his gaze.

“I… I don’t know if I like being an omega,” he whispered. The second Donghyuck’s eyebrow rose, and Jisung panicked. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it! You’re an omega, and you’re so cool, really cool… I like you a lot, hyung, I’m not trying to insult you—”

A warm laugh broke through Jisung’s spiral. Donghyuck stood and gently ruffled his curls.

“Come here,” he said simply.

Jisung followed him down the hallway, steps small and unsure, until they reached the nest room. Donghyuck pushed the door open.

“Take a breath. Look.”

The pup’s breath hitched. The nest was soft, layered, warm. He recognized everyone's scents immediately: Jaemin’s grounding comfort, Jeno’s protective steadiness, Renjun’s quiet warmth, Mark’s gentle presence, Chenle’s bubbly energy, and Donghyuck’s sweet spice. All woven together for him. Because he belonged here. Because he mattered.

It felt like walking into a heartbeat he’d always known.

“As omegas, we hold a special place in the pack,” Donghyuck said, voice low and patient. “Alphas? They’re loud and bossy and stupid most days,” he grinned, “but with us, they melt. Betas grow extra soft around us too; they want us to feel safe, respected.”

Jisung swallowed, eyes glued to the nest.

“And us?” Donghyuck continued. “We get to take care of them in ways no one else can. When they’re stressed, scared, doubting themselves… It’s us who bring them back. It’s us who they listen to. Who they lean on.”

He paused, then added, quieter:

“And you, Jisung… you’re more.”

“Hyung, don’t say that, you—”

“No,” Donghyuck interrupted gently, cupping Jisung’s face with warm, steady hands. “You’re more. You’re our youngest. Our omega pup. Our heart.”

Jisung’s eyes shimmered. His lip wobbled. Then he fell forward, hugging Donghyuck tightly, burying his face against his shoulder. Donghyuck wrapped him up instantly, hand rubbing slow circles on his back, scent warm and soothing.

“I’m scared,” Jisung admitted in a tiny voice.

“I know,” Donghyuck whispered into his hair. “But you’re never going to be alone. Not once. Not ever.”

Donghyuck kept holding him until Jisung’s trembling eased into slow, uneven breaths. The pup clung to him like he was the only solid thing left in the world, fingers fisting the fabric of his hyung’s sweater.

When Jisung finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed and damp, eyes glassy. Donghyuck brushed away the last tear with his thumb.

“Come on,” he murmured, guiding him gently toward the nest. “Sit. Feel it.”

Jisung hesitated at the edge, toes curling into the softness. It felt… warm. So warm. And safe. Carefully, he lowered himself into the center. The blankets dipped around him, cushioning him from every side.

The moment his weight settled, the scents enveloped him, every wolf he loved, cared for, and trusted. It was overwhelming, grounding, comforting in a way he had no words for.

His chest tightened. Not with fear this time.

With belonging.

Donghyuck watched him visibly relax, shoulders dropping as if the nest itself had reached up to hold him.

“That’s it,” he said softly. “Listen to your body. It’s telling you the truth.”

Jisung’s lip quivered again. “It feels… nice.”

“It will feel nicer when the others cuddle in later,” Donghyuck teased. “Trust me, the alphas are going to be impossible to deal with. They’ll pretend they’re coming in to ‘check on you’ but they just want to burrow.”

Jisung let out a tiny, shy laugh.

Donghyuck’s smile softened. “There it is. I like that sound.”

He sat beside the pup, close, but not crowding, letting Jisung breathe, settle, sink. After a moment, Jisung leaned just slightly against his shoulder, uncertain, but needing contact.

Donghyuck didn’t comment. He only shifted to make it more comfortable.

“Hyung?” Jisung asked quietly.

“Mm?”

“Do you ever… not feel enough? Like you’re supposed to be something you’re not?”

Donghyuck’s expression changed, a flicker of honesty passing through.

“Every omega feels that at some point,” he admitted. “We get scared of being weak. Or being too much. Or not enough. But the truth is…” He nudged Jisung’s knee with his own. “We’re not defined by the role. We define it.”

Jisung blinked up at him, surprised.

“You’ll grow into what you are at your own pace,” Donghyuck continued. “And we’ll help you every step. But nothing about you is wrong. Nothing.”

Jisung swallowed hard.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Donghyuck stood, smoothing a hand through the pup’s soft, damp curls. “Stay here for a bit. Let the nest settle around you,” he murmured. “I’ll go tell the others you’re doing okay. Come down whenever you feel ready.”

And with that, he slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.

Left alone, Jisung took in the nest once more. Even with the warmth it offered, a faint doubt tugged at him, an old, stubborn whisper telling him he wasn’t that important. That he didn’t truly deserve all this effort. He knew his hyungs would scold him the moment they sensed it, but the thought lingered anyway.

He eased himself down into the center of the nest and let his eyes flutter shut.

And then… There it was.

A scent that wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Herbal, refreshing, with that crisp hint of mint that always reminded him of early mornings and soft hands.

Jaemin.

The moment his brain recognized it, Jisung’s heart jolted. His pulse quickened, cheeks heating as he inhaled again without meaning to. His chest tightened with something he couldn’t name, and he let out a shaky, startled breath.

Why did his hyung suddenly smell so… good?

Too good.

It took him several long minutes to adjust, letting the rush of his presenting settle enough that he could think again. Once the scent stopped knocking him off balance, he managed to breathe more evenly. His body relaxed into the nest’s warmth, the lingering traces of his pack making him feel safe enough to move.

Eventually, another very real need made itself known. His stomach growled loudly. Embarrassed, Jisung pressed a hand to his belly. 

Okay. Maybe he could go downstairs now…

☽

Jisung stood quietly at the dining room's entrance, toes curling against the floor, watching his hyungs already gathered around the table. They were talking, teasing, laughing, exactly as they always did.

He liked that.

How they pretended everything was normal, even when everything inside him wasn’t.

“Come, Jisunggie,” Jaemin called, voice warm as he patted the chair beside him.

The pup hesitated for a breath. His seat had always been next to Jaemin, by coincidence, by habit, by unspoken agreement.

But now…

Now it felt different.

Now it felt right in a way he didn’t have words for.

And Jisung couldn’t help wondering why sitting beside Jaemin suddenly felt like the only place he should be.

He walked toward the table slowly, almost timidly, and the conversations settled into something gentler the moment he came close. Not out of pity, never that, but out of instinct. His pack adjusting to him, making space for him without even thinking.

Jisung slipped into the chair beside Jaemin.

Immediately, warmth enveloped him.

Jaemin’s knee brushed his under the table, light, deliberate, reassuring. And Jisung’s breath caught.

His scent, herbs, mint, something grounding, felt stronger this close, and it curled around Jisung like a blanket. It made his fingers twitch with the urge to lean in. To touch. To breathe deeper.

He forced himself to sit straight.

Mark smiled at him from across the table. “How’re you feeling, Jisung-ah?”

“Hungry,” he murmured truthfully, voice a little small.

Donghyuck giggled. “That’s a good sign. Eat lots, pup.”

Renjun pushed a bowl toward him. “Here. Start with this. It’s warm.”

Jisung reached for it, but his hand trembled. He hoped no one noticed.

Of course someone did.

Jaemin’s fingers slid under the bowl, helping him steady it without saying a word. Jisung blinked, cheeks burning, but Jaemin only gave him a tiny smile, soft, patient, devastatingly gentle.

His chest tightened.

Everything felt too much. Too intense.

Too warm.

He ate quietly, but Jaemin didn’t move his knee away. If anything, it pressed a little more firmly against his, grounding him. And Jisung didn’t dare move. 

He didn’t want to.

“After dinner,” Jeno said, stretching, “we’ll do scent checks again. Just to make sure the fever doesn’t return.”

“Oh, it won’t,” Chenle said confidently, mouth full. “He smells stable now. Still weird,” he shrugged, “but stable.”

Jisung’s ears burned. “Weird?”

“Special,” Mark corrected immediately.

Jaemin hummed in agreement beside him. Jisung didn’t know whether to hide or melt.

He kept his eyes on his food, but he could feel Jaemin watching him, protective and soft in a way that made his heart stutter.

And even though his instincts were still a mess, even though everything inside him was shifting and confusing, sitting here, beside Jaemin and surrounded by his pack felt right.

Maybe for the first time ever.

Even before they started dinner, Jisung finally started noticing the changes in his pack’s behavior. Donghyuck had been right.

The alphas were… dumb.

In the sweetest, most infuriating way.

Chenle was determined to serve him a mountain of mashed potatoes, insisting carbs meant comfort. But Jeno cut in, arguing boiled vegetables were “better for his recovery.” They went back and forth until Mark cleared his throat in that big-brother tone that instantly shut both alphas up.

Then Jaemin leaned over and quietly served Jisung a half-and-half portion, perfectly balanced.

“Just in case,” he murmured, checking his expression. “Tell me if you want more.”

Jisung smiled gratefully and dug in. And the moment he took the first bite, he forgot everything else.

He munched happily, cheeks puffing with each spoonful, savoring every taste. He was so focused on eating that he completely missed the way the entire table had paused to watch him.

When he finally looked up and saw their stares, he froze.

“W-What?” he stammered, immediately covering his face with both hands.

Donghyuck took a slow sip of his drink, hiding a smug grin. “Oh, don’t mind them. Seeing a sick pup omega eat with so much energy is… very comforting for them.”

Mark instantly blushed and coughed into his sleeve. Jeno and Chenle avoided eye contact with anyone, suddenly fascinated with each other’s plates. Renjun stood up and decided the kitchen needed him right that second.

Jaemin, however, didn’t look away.

His voice dropped, warm and impossibly fond.

“You’re adorable when your cheeks get full.”

Jisung’s entire soul combusted.

Jisung hid deeper behind his hands, ears burning, but Jaemin’s words kept echoing in his head.

Adorable.

Adorable.

Why did that sound so… different now?

His scent fluttered nervously, berries, sweet and warm, and every alpha at the table stiffened like they’d been hit with a soft pillow to the face.

Donghyuck clicked his tongue dramatically. “Okay, everyone, breathe before the baby accidentally knocks you out with pheromones.”

Jisung whined, mortified. “I’m not doing anything!”

Chenle sniffed the air. “You kind of are.”

“Chenle,” Mark warned.

The young alpha shut up immediately.

Jaemin simply reached over and gently pulled Jisung’s hands down from his face. His touch was careful, as if afraid to overwhelm him.

“Jisunggie,” he said softly, “you did nothing wrong. You’re just… being you.”

That somehow made the pup blush even harder.

He nodded sheepishly and went back to eating, slower now, aware of every tiny heartbeat in his own chest and every lingering look from the table.

When dinner ended, Mark assigned tasks with a calm authority that soothed everyone’s instincts. Jeno and Chenle started cleaning up, bumping into each other like oversized puppies trying too hard to be useful. Renjun was free to go wash up since he had helped with cooking and hummed happily as he drifted to his room. Mark was now washing the dishes with two alphas, asking constantly if he needed help.

Meanwhile, Jaemin gently brushed Jisung’s shoulder.

“You ready to go to the nest?”

Jisung nodded, but didn’t stand.

Or move.

Or breathe, apparently.

Because Jaemin’s hand was still there, warm, grounding, sending sparks up his arm, and the pup’s newly-awakened instincts were scrambling to figure out what that meant.

Why it felt so… safe.

Jaemin noticed his frozen state and leaned down slightly, meeting his eyes.

“You okay, pup?”

Jisung swallowed, cheeks still burning pink. His voice came out tiny and shaky. “Yeah, just… mentalizing.”

He forced his legs to move, standing up fast and making a beeline straight toward Donghyuck, who was packing leftovers into containers.

“Am I your shield, or why the emergency face?” Donghyuck teased without looking up.

Jisung groaned, mortified, hiding behind the older omega’s shoulder.

Donghyuck snorted. “Alright, alright. I’ll act as your decoy.”

Across the table, Jaemin looked disoriented, like his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet.

“Nana, go wash up,” Donghyuck ordered, snapping his fingers. “I’ll take the pup to the nest. When you’re done, you can do the final check-up.”

Jaemin opened his mouth to protest, but Donghyuck cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“Go on. You reek of stress and anxiety. It’s bad for the baby.”

Jisung groaned loudly. “Hyung—!”

But the effect was immediate. Jaemin stiffened, eyes widening for a second before he shot up from his chair and headed toward the hallway without another word. When he was out of sight, Donghyuck patted Jisung’s back.

“You’ll learn to control them.”

Jisung blinked. 

“Them?”

He pointed behind him, where Mark was clearly losing his patience as Jeno and Chenle argued over who washed which dish.

Donghyuck snorted. “Oh, no. Those three are beyond saving.” 

He tapped Jisung’s chest. “I meant your instincts."

He grabbed the pup’s hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Right now the whole pack’s adjusting to you, so we’re extra sensitive to every little change you give off.”

Jisung tilted his head. “Even you?”

“Oh, especially me.” Donghyuck sighed dramatically. “I’m the only other omega here. My instincts keep trying to treat you like my actual baby, and honestly? It’s getting annoying. But there’s no off switch.”

Jisung let out a tiny laugh, the worry easing from his shoulders.

“Listen,” Donghyuck said gently, thumb brushing the back of Jisung’s hand, “you’re going to have mood swings. Some days you’ll hate us. Other days, you’ll miss us even when we’re right next to you. And some days…” His voice thinned, memories tugging him inward. “...Some days you might hate yourself.”

The shift in his scent was subtle, an ache, quiet and old. Jisung instinctively tightened his hold on Donghyuck’s hand, grounding him.

Donghyuck blinked, refocusing, and gave a shaky smile. “But we’re strong. We’re patient. And we love you. So much, pup.”

Jisung nodded, believing it instantly.

They stepped into the nest. Jisung settled in the center while Donghyuck dimmed the lights and lit a soft-scented candle, the air turning warm and gentle.

“Hyung… how was your first night as an omega?” Jisung asked quietly.

Donghyuck froze mid-movement. He sighed and turned away, shoulders tense.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to share! I was just curious—!” Jisung rambled.

Donghyuck shook his head, came back, and sat beside him, capturing the pup’s hand again, rolling their fingers together like beads, calming him.

“It’s not that,” he said softly. “It’s just… a depressing story. And I don’t feel like letting it swallow me tonight.”

Jisung hummed, then leaned his small weight against him. “I won’t let you drown.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitched. The honesty in that simple sentence disarmed him.

“I was younger than you,” he began, quieter now. “Barely sixteen. And back then… Mark and I weren’t close. Honestly, I think he hated me.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “I grew up thinking I’d be an alpha. That I’d protect my pack. That that was the only way to be strong. But then my presentation hit, and suddenly I was an omega, and it felt like the whole world was laughing at me.”

He looked down at their joined hands.

“You know me, clever, mouthy, dramatic,” he muttered. “But that day? I was lost. When they told me that my role was meant to soothe, to comfort, to nurture… I didn’t recognize myself.”

His voice cracked, barely.

“I spent that night alone in my own nest. My family thought it’d help me ‘adjust,’ but all it did was make the fear louder. I didn’t sleep. I just kept wondering if I’d ever be good enough… as an omega.”

“Hyung…” Jisung’s voice broke with empathy.

“But that changed a few years later,” Donghyuck said, a soft smile tugging at his lips as the memory settled in. “When Mark presented as an alpha… everything just clicked. Suddenly, we understood each other in a way we never had before. We fit. And I knew, I wanted to be the person who always had his back.”

“And you are.”

Both omegas glanced up to see their alpha leader leaning against the doorframe, a gentle smile warming his features. Donghyuck lit up instantly, his whole aura brightening just from Mark’s presence.

Jisung watched them, watched how effortlessly they gravitated toward each other, how strong and steady their bond felt, like something unshakeable.

He wondered, quietly, if he would ever have something like that.

Jisung’s chest tightened, not in a bad way, but in that aching, fluttery way that made him aware of how empty the space beside him suddenly felt.

Mark walked over to Donghyuck and pressed a brief kiss to his temple, his hand sliding instinctively to Donghyuck’s nape. The omega immediately leaned into the touch, melting like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Jisung swallowed, watching quietly. Was it supposed to look that natural? Was it supposed to feel that safe?

“I was just telling him about when you presented,” Donghyuck said, fingers immediately wrapping around Mark’s wrist like they belonged there.

“Mm. You cried,” Mark chuckled.

“You cried too!”

“Because you cried first.”

Jisung laughed under his breath, small and almost shy. They were ridiculous. Ridiculous and perfect.

Jaemin’s scent drifted closer, clean, cool, calming, and the omega felt the hair on his arms rise. He didn’t even have to look to know Jaemin was next to him, close enough that their auras brushed.

“Don’t overthink it,” Jaemin murmured quietly so only he could hear.

Jisung blinked up at him.

Jaemin’s eyes softened. “You’ll have what’s meant for you. And… you’re easier to love than you think.”

Jisung’s breath caught, his pulse kicking. Why did Jaemin say things like that so casually? Why did it feel like they weren’t casual at all?

He looked back to Mark and Donghyuck, bonded and secure and wrapped up in each other like they were puzzle pieces that had waited their whole lives to fit.

“Still,” Jisung whispered, almost to himself. “I don’t know if that’s something I’ll ever find.”

Jaemin hummed next to him, low and deep enough to settle right under his ribs.

“You will,” Jaemin said. “Maybe sooner than you think.”

Jisung turned to look at him fully this time, only to find Jaemin already watching him, gaze steady, warm, almost unbearably fond.

Like he knew something Jisung didn’t.

Like he’d already chosen.

Jisung’s heart stuttered.

“Dibs on the corner!” Chenle burst past them, launching himself into the nest. He turned around only to find four pairs of eyes staring back, one of them distinctly unimpressed. “...What?”

“Learn to read the room, baby alpha,” Renjun sighed as he climbed into the nest, already showered and in soft pajamas. “I waited outside for like twenty minutes.”

“Oh, so considerate,” Donghyuck cooed, immediately crawling over to drape himself across the beta. “Thanks, Junnie!”

“Get off me!”

Jeno arrived next, carrying his pillow like a solemn soldier. He quietly settled into his usual spot. Mark followed, instinctively taking the place beside Donghyuck as he gently lectured Chenle about indoor voices.

Jaemin, meanwhile, had slipped right back into healer mode. “Come on, pup. Let’s get this done.” He tapped the chair beside the little station he’d prepared with supplies to check Jisung’s vitals and temperature.

“Okay!” Jisung chirped.

He sat down and behaved perfectly through the exam, only pouting a little at the night supplements. But he knew, especially tonight, he couldn’t skip them. Jaemin watched him swallow the supplements, eyes focused and clinical, too clinical. 

“Good,” he murmured, marking something down on a little notepad that the others pretended not to notice.

Jisung swung his legs a little, trying not to look at him too much. It was hard. Jaemin always looked… concentrated. Sharp. Tonight, though, there was something softer poking through under the stress.

“All done?” Jisung asked.

“For now.” Jaemin hesitated, then reached out and smoothed a hand over the pup’s hair, as if checking for fever one last time. “You’re warm, but not concerningly so. Just… stay close to the nest tonight.”

Jisung’s heart jumped. “Oh. Yeah. I—I will.”

“Good.” The alpha stepped back like the touch had startled him, too.

Before the moment could stretch too visibly, Mark clapped his hands. “Alright, pups, everyone in. Jaemin, finish up what you need. Let’s get settled.”

Jisung crawled into the middle of the nest, the familiar weight of blankets and intertwined pillows inviting him in. Chenle immediately tossed an arm over his waist, claiming him like a plush toy.

“Soft,” the young alpha declared.

Renjun shoved Chenle’s arm off. “Stop using people as pillows.”

“You do that to Jeno all the time!”

“He allows it.”

Jeno nodded with silent, exhausted agreement.

Donghyuck snickered, curling against Mark like it was second nature. “Kids, kids… keep it down, the baby omega needs rest.”

Jisung flushed. “Hyung!”

But he was smiling, cheeks warm.

Jaemin approached last.

He’d rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, hands still smelling faintly of antiseptic. For a moment, he hovered by the nest, looking at Jisung like he wasn’t sure where to sit, or if he even should.

Donghyuck noticed immediately.

“Nana,” he said softly, “stop standing there like a confused lamp. He needs you close.”

Jaemin froze.

Jisung’s breath caught.

Then the alpha carefully stepped over Chenle’s legs and settled down behind Jisung, close, but not touching. Like a barrier. A guardrail. An anchor he wasn’t sure he had permission to be.

Jisung felt the warmth at his back and shivered. 

Jaemin noticed. 

Of course he did. 

“You cold?”

“No,” Jisung whispered.

“Oh.”

The answer startled them both.

Silence pressed in for a beat too long.

And then, almost like surrender, Jaemin shifted and let his palm rest lightly against Jisung’s spine.

Not pulling him closer. Not claiming. Just… there.

Present.

Jisung relaxed instantly, his body leaning backward without his brain catching up. Jaemin stiffened, then melted, just a little.

From across the nest, Donghyuck grinned like he’d just placed the final piece of a puzzle.

“See?” he whispered to Mark. “Told you.”

“Told me what?” Jisung asked sleepily.

“Nothing, pup,” Mark said smoothly. “Go to sleep.”

“Goodnight, pack!” Chenle yelled.

A chorus of sleepy replies followed, tangled and uneven: 

“Night…” 

“Mm-night…” 

“Sleep well…”

Jisung felt the exhaustion hit him all at once, heavy, warm, sinking straight into his bones. The whirlwind of emotions, insecurities, and leftover fear from earlier tugged at him, but the nest… 

The nest pushed everything else away.

The combined scents of his pack surrounded him like a soft, weighted blanket. Warm bodies pressed close. Gentle breaths. Familiar heartbeats. It was everything he hadn’t known he needed, and everything he suddenly couldn’t imagine living without. He wanted to stay here forever. To belong here. To matter here.

In the exact center of them, he finally felt like he fit.

Without realizing it, tiny quiet puppy noises slipped out of him, little whines of contentment that betrayed how safe he felt.

Jaemin reacted instantly.

Strong arms wrapped around Jisung’s waist from behind, instinctive and protective. The alpha didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink, he just pulled him close.

Jisung didn’t flinch away. Didn’t question it. Didn’t panic.

He simply sank back into the embrace, pressing his spine against Jaemin’s steady chest, letting the warmth settle over him like a second nest.

“Rest, pup,” Jaemin murmured, voice low and ridiculously gentle against Jisung’s ear.

Jisung exhaled, relief pouring out of him in one long, shaky breath.

And just like that, wrapped in the arms of someone he hadn’t realized he needed so much, Jisung slipped into sleep.

☽

During the night, Jisung’s body finished its transition.

His pheromones settled into a steady rhythm, his hormones stopped their chaotic tug-of-war, and his wolf finally quieted, accepting the new instincts blooming inside him, louder and clearer than ever.

It felt strange, waking up no longer just a pup.

He wasn’t simply the baby of the pack anymore, the wolf cub everyone doted on, teased, and scolded with affection. There was a new heaviness in his chest, a pull toward his pack that was deeper, stronger, more instinctive. He could feel them now, their moods, their breaths, the subtle shifts in emotion that tugged at him like invisible threads.

It overwhelmed him.

Jisung blinked and only then noticed the tear slipping down his cheek.

It was terrifying.

He didn’t even know how to regulate his own pheromones yet. How was he supposed to help balance six fully grown wolves? He had always relied on his hyungs… but now? Was he really supposed to be someone they relied on too?

He was small. Young. Soft. Easily startled, easily tricked, so emotional it hurt.

He wasn’t Mark, strong and steady. He wasn’t Chenle, bold and fearless. He wasn’t Jeno, solid as a wall. He wasn’t Renjun, sharp and perceptive. He wasn’t Donghyuck, quick-witted and confident. He wasn’t Jaemin, collected and composed.

Ah… Jaemin.

Jisung turned his head, heart thudding as he looked at the alpha curled around him, arms firm around his waist, breath warm against the back of his neck.

Everything in him tugged toward Jaemin.

He didn’t understand these new instincts or where they came from… but one thing was impossible to ignore. 

Jaemin felt like a magnet. And Jisung, newly awakened, overwhelmed omega Jisung, wanted nothing more than to stay close.

He shifted just a little, testing how much space he had, and immediately felt Jaemin’s arm tighten, not enough to restrain him, just enough to anchor him. The alpha’s scent wrapped around him, warm mint and something grounding, something safe. It soothed the rising panic in Jisung’s chest before he even realized he was panicking.

Ah.

So that’s what Donghyuck meant.

Jisung swallowed hard, wiping at the tear on his cheek. But the moment he moved, Jaemin stirred behind him, nose brushing the back of Jisung’s shoulder in a half-asleep, instinctive check. The sound Jaemin made, low, questioning, protective, sent a shiver down Jisung’s spine.

“...Hyung?” Jisung whispered, barely more than breath.

Jaemin hummed in reply, voice deep and rough with sleep. “Mm… you okay?”

His hand slid up from Jisung’s waist to his ribs, slow and careful, as if asking permission with every inch. Jisung tensed, then melted. His wolf recognized it instantly: reassurance, presence, comfort. The instinct to lean back into it was so strong it ached.

“I…” Jisung couldn’t finish the sentence. His throat felt tight, too full with something he didn’t have a name for yet.

Jaemin, half asleep but already alert to the shift in Jisung’s scent, moved closer until his chest was flush against Jisung’s back. “Hey… breathe.” His voice was soft, gentler than Jisung had ever heard it.

And Jisung did. Deep, shaky breaths that steadied the longer Jaemin held him.

“Good,” Jaemin murmured, nuzzling into Jisung’s hair without even thinking. “That’s it. You’re alright.”

Jisung’s cheeks warmed. His fingers curled into the nest blankets, trying to hide the way his whole body leaned into the alpha’s touch like it was instinct, because maybe it was.

“…Why do you smell so good?” Jisung whispered before his brain could stop him.

Jaemin froze.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Jaemin exhaled, shaky, his grip faltering as if he had just realized something he wasn’t prepared for.

“Jisung…” His voice cracked. “Don’t… Don’t say things like that right now.”

“Why?” Jisung asked, honestly confused, honestly curious.

Jaemin hid his face against the back of Jisung’s neck, scent spiraling in a mixture of panic and something warm and dizzying. “Because I don’t trust what my wolf will do if you keep saying things like that.”

Jisung’s breath hitched.

Oh.

Suddenly, his heart wasn’t beating. It was sprinting.

And Jaemin, usually controlled, usually the calmest of the pack, was holding onto him like Jisung was the only solid thing keeping him grounded.

“...Hyung?” Jisung asked again, this time barely above a whisper.

Jaemin didn’t answer. Not with words. 

Jisung felt Jaemin’s fingers tense where they rested on his waist, the tremor barely there… but enough. Enough for Jisung’s wolf to register that something is happening. Something delicate, something heavy.

“Hyung…” he whispered again, turning the slightest bit in his arms.

Jaemin instinctively tightened his hold, preventing the full turn, gentle but firm, protective without even realizing it.

“Don’t move,” Jaemin breathed out. It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t even alpha-instinct. It was a plea. “Just… stay still for a second.”

Jisung froze, eyes wide in the dim light of the nest. Jaemin’s forehead rested between Jisung’s shoulder blades, breath shaky and warm.

“I can’t—” Jaemin tried again, voice cracking around the words. “I can’t think straight when your scent feels like this. You’re too… new. Too unsteady. Too—”

He cut himself off before he said whatever was next.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Jisung swallowed, suddenly more aware than ever of his own heartbeat, his own scent, his own want, a new kind of wanting, confusing and raw.

“What do I feel like?” Jisung whispered, cautious.

The question hung between them, heavy.

Jaemin slowly lifted his head, still behind him, still too close. Jisung could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

“Don’t ask me that,” Jaemin murmured, voice low. “Not when you’re still settling. Not when you’re scared. Not when you don’t even know what you’re feeling yet.”

“But I want to know.” Jisung’s voice shook, not from fear, but from needing an answer he didn’t understand. “Why do you smell so warm now? Why do I feel like I’m gonna float when you’re close?”

Jaemin let out a choked laugh, pained, disbelieving. “Because I’m trying so hard not to react to you. That’s what you’re smelling.”

Jisung’s breath stalled.

React? To him?

“How?” he asked, genuinely confused. “I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” Jaemin’s words came out hollow, like they cost him something. “Exactly, Jisung. That’s the problem.”

Another silence. Another breath too loud in the quiet room.

Jisung finally turned his head enough to catch a glimpse of Jaemin’s face in the dark. The alpha’s eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide, instinct tugging at the edge of control.

His voice was a whisper broken in half:

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Jisung’s chest tightened painfully, and before he knew it, his hand moved, small, hesitant, finding Jaemin’s forearm where it held him.

“Nana… am I hurting you?” Jisung asked, voice trembling.

The question hit Jaemin like a blow. His face softened instantly, guilt rushing to the surface.

“No. No, pup. Never. You could never hurt me.”

“Then why do you look like that?” Jisung pressed.

Jaemin shut his eyes tightly, jaw clenching.

“Because I want to protect you,” he whispered, “but I’m scared I’m the one you’ll need protection from.”

Jisung’s breath hitched. Not in fear. In something dangerously close to understanding. And without thinking, absolutely without thinking, he scooted back the smallest bit, fitting against Jaemin’s chest again.

The alpha’s inhale stuttered violently.

“…Jisung,” he warned, voice thin.

But Jisung stayed there. 

Quiet. Small. Warm.

“I trust you,” he murmured.

And Jaemin broke. Not outwardly, no sound, no movement. But something in him cracked so clearly that Jisung felt it.

Jaemin buried his face in Jisung’s shoulder, and for the first time, his voice trembled:

“Don’t say things like that… if you don’t know what they mean.”

Jisung didn’t understand. Not fully.

But he knew this: Jaemin’s arms were around him like he was something fragile and precious. And Jisung didn’t want to pull away.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

A rustle from the far corner of the nest snapped both of them out of the moment.

Renjun grumbled in his sleep, kicking Chenle hard enough to make the younger yelp awake.

“What the—?!” Chenle whispered loudly, sitting up like a startled meerkat.

Jeno, half buried in blankets, mumbled, “Keep it down… some of us are trying to pretend we’re asleep…”

Donghyuck shot up next, hair sticking in five different directions, glaring murderously at everyone.

“Why are we awake?”

Mark, the only calm one, shifted and blinked blearily. “Hyuck… no one’s awake except you.”

“I am awake,” Hyuck argued, pointing accusingly. “Which makes everyone awake. Pack logic.”

Jaemin exhaled slowly, trying to calm the sharp, protective instincts that flared when too many eyes drifted toward Jisung.

The pup had immediately curled in on himself, overwhelmed, small, cheeks flushed.

Too flushed.

Jaemin’s hand hovered, then pressed gently against Jisung’s forehead.

He swore under his breath. The heat was unmistakable.

“Fever’s coming back,” Jaemin said quietly, tone slipping straight into alpha mode.

Donghyuck, now alert, crawled over immediately. “Let me feel—”

Jaemin growled. A soft, warning sound. Barely more than a hum, but strong enough to make Donghyuck freeze mid-reach.

Donghyuck blinked. “Did you just growl at me? Again?”

Jaemin’s eyes widened a fraction, realizing it, before he offered a quick, apologetic glance.

Mark, however, raised a brow, protective instincts flaring. “Again?”

Donghyuck crossed his arms, smirking like a cat with gossip. “Oh, nothing. Just Jaemin getting all alpha-possessive over my pup.”

Jaemin flushed scarlet and pretended not to see the way Mark’s eyebrow climbed higher. His focus dropped back to Jisung, thumb brushing the pup’s too-warm cheek.

“Pup,” Jaemin whispered. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jisung shook his head weakly, voice small and foggy. “I didn’t… wanna bother anyone. And you were… Busy.”

Jaemin stiffened for half a second, because yes, he had been busy, dangerously so. But that didn’t matter now.

Mark sat up straighter. “How high is it?”

“Not bad,” Jaemin murmured, though his frown said otherwise. “But rising.”

Jeno was already shifting blankets, making space. Renjun grabbed the water bottle near his pillow and tossed it over. Chenle was watching with big eyes, anxious.

Donghyuck gently placed a hand on Jisung’s arm. “Hey, baby. Tell Hyuckie what hurts?”

Jisung turned slightly, eyelids heavy as he glanced at Donghyuck. “Just… tired. Want warm.”

Jaemin didn’t hesitate. He scooped the pup closer, steady and sure, tucking him against his chest like he belonged there.

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you get to touch him now?”

Jaemin shot a desperate look at Mark. Mark sighed and waved him on.

“Hyuck,” Mark said, rubbing his eyes, “let him handle it. Jisung’s responding to him the best right now.”

Hyuck opened his mouth to argue, then closed it when he saw Jisung’s fingers tangled weakly in the fabric of Jaemin’s shirt.

Jaemin lowered his voice, gentle but firm. “We need to cool him down before it spikes. Wet cloths?”

Renjun nodded. “On it.”

Chenle scrambled for the small nest kit they kept for emergencies. Jeno fetched another blanket, warmed with his own body heat.

Everyone was moving. Everyone was focused.

But Jaemin stayed perfectly still. Holding the pup. Feeling every small shiver. Every uneven breath. Every heat-soaked exhale against his chest.

Jisung blinked up at him, disoriented. “Nana… s’not bad. Don’t worry.”

Jaemin’s heart clenched painfully.

“You don’t get to decide when I worry,” he whispered, smoothing Jisung’s damp curls back. “Not anymore.”

Jisung closed his eyes at the touch, leaning in like instinct.

And for a moment, just a moment, the whole pack paused. Watching the way the youngest melted into Jaemin’s hold. Watching the way Jaemin held him like something precious.

Mark exchanged a look with Donghyuck.

Renjun looked like he already suspected everything.

And Chenle mouthed silently: Ohhh, I knew it.

☽

By the time Jisung’s fever finally settled, Donghyuck had very proudly claimed his turn to cuddle the pup. They were curled together at the center of the nest, Jeno and Chenle tucked in close on either side, and Renjun stationed near the top, right beside the bowl of fresh water and the damp towel he kept swapping out without complaint.

Before the sun even considered rising, Mark shifted awake. He sat upright slowly, one hand stroking Donghyuck’s back in steady circles, but his eyes were fixed elsewhere.

On Jaemin.

The moment Mark’s quiet alpha presence swept through the nest, Jaemin stirred, almost instinctively answering the call without a sound exchanged.

Their gazes locked.

It wasn’t hostile, just… a request. A conversation.

Mark tilted his head toward the door.

Jaemin exhaled softly, then carefully lifted himself from the warmth of Jisung’s side. The pup made a faint, sleepy sound, half a whine, before nudging deeper into Donghyuck’s arms, like he didn’t want to lose the heat.

Jaemin paused for a second. Then forced himself to move.

When he stepped out of the nest room, Mark was already waiting down the hall. Not saying anything yet, just watching. Calm. Too calm.

Jaemin’s stomach tightened.

He followed Mark to the office at the end of the corridor, each step feeling louder than it should in the morning silence.

Once the door closed behind them, Mark leaned back against the desk, arms loose at his sides, not crossed, not confrontational. Just… observing. Waiting. Shifting into that quiet, controlled alpha presence that was somehow scarier than when he yelled.

Jaemin sank into the chair with a nervous sigh.

“Hyung,” he groaned, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Please don’t stand there pretending to be cool. You’re freaking me out.”

Mark cracked a small, amused smile. The kind that said he wasn’t fooled one bit, but also wasn’t angry.

And that somehow made Jaemin even more nervous.

Mark let the smile fade slowly, replacing it with something more serious, steady, grounding, undeniably alpha.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Sit up straight.”

Jaemin did. Instantly. Like a pup caught chewing the furniture.

Mark sighed. “I’m not mad, Jaem. But we need to talk.”

“Okay…” Jaemin braced himself.

Mark crossed his arms, finally. The universal you messed up stance.

“First,” Mark said, “you need to get a handle on your alpha responses.”

Jaemin winced. “Hyung, I didn’t mean to—”

“You growled at my mate,” Mark cut in calmly. “Twice.”

Jaemin sank further into the chair. “…He was going to poke Jisung.”

“He was going to check on his pup,” Mark emphasized. “Which is normal. And allowed. And not something you snarl at.”

“It wasn’t a snarl—”

“Growl,” Mark corrected. “Twice.”

Jaemin covered his face. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

Mark softened, but didn’t let him off the hook. “Look. I get it. You’re going through a shift too. Not like Jisung’s, but still a shift. Your alpha’s reacting to him, and you aren’t used to it.”

Jaemin peeked between his fingers. “…Reacting?”

“Jaemin.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Half the pack noticed.”

Jaemin turned red from the ears down. 

Mark continued, tone steady, not judgmental but definitely lecturing. “You need to keep your instincts in check. Especially around the pack. Chenle was one second away from screaming that you imprinted on Jisung or something.”

“I did NOT imprint—!” Jaemin sputtered.

“Good,” Mark nodded. “So keep it that way by not acting like a possessive maniac every time someone touches him.”

Jaemin groaned. “Hyung, I swear I’m trying… My wolf just… He gets loud.”

“I know,” Mark said simply. “That’s why I’m talking to you now. Before it becomes a problem. Or someone gets bitten.”

Jaemin stiffened. “I would never bite anyone.”

“You almost took Hyuck’s hand off when he reached for Jisung’s forehead.”

“He was doing it wrong!”

Mark’s eyebrow rose again. “He was checking his temperature.”

Jaemin looked away. “…Still wrong.”

Mark stepped closer, crouched enough to meet his eyes.

“Listen. I’m not telling you to stay away from Jisung. I’m not blind, I can see he calms with you. That’s good. That’s fine.”

A beat.

“But you’re not just dealing with your instincts. You’re dealing with his.”

Jaemin blinked. “…H-his?”

“Yeah,” Mark said softly. “He’s an omega who just finished his change. And he’s bonding harder than he realizes. Without control yet.”

Jaemin’s chest tightened. “So I’m messing him up?”

“No,” Mark said immediately. “But you could if you don’t learn to regulate yourself. He’ll follow your lead instinctively. If you’re calm, he’ll be calm. If you’re tense? He’ll spiral.”

Jaemin swallowed thickly. “…Right.”

Mark laid a hand on his shoulder, firm, grounding, impossibly gentle for the pack’s alpha.

“I’m trusting you with him,” Mark said. “So be someone he can trust back. Not someone his wolf has to defend itself from.”

Jaemin nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“And,” Mark added, pulling his hand back, “stop growling at my mate unless you want to get pinned to the wall.”

Jaemin flailed. “I SAID I WAS SORRY—!”

Mark finally laughed. “Good. Then let’s go back before they notice I took you out for a talk. Hyuck will think is about mating.”

Jaemin turned red again. “Hyung—!!”

Mark opened the door and waved him out. “Come on, lover boy.”

When they slipped back into the room, Renjun was already awake, sitting upright against the nest wall with his phone glowing dimly in his hands. He looked up long enough to give them a silent nod before returning to whatever article he was reading like the world’s calmest insomniac.

Donghyuck, however, sensed the cold where Mark’s body should’ve been. He stirred with a faint whine, blindly reaching out until Mark settled beside him again, pulling him close.

“Where did you go?” the omega mumbled without even opening his eyes.

“Nowhere,” Mark whispered, stroking his back. “Go back to sleep.”

There was a beat. A quiet inhale.

And then, in the most shameless, half-asleep tone imaginable, Donghyuck muttered,

“You told him to use condoms?”

Jaemin tripped over Jeno’s leg so hard he faceplanted into the edge of the nest.

Mark slapped a hand over his own mouth to throttle the laugh trying to explode out.

Jeno shot upright like someone had pulled an alarm in his brain, eyes glazed, hair a mess.

“What—? What happened? Who died?”

Renjun didn’t even look up from his phone. “No one. Hyuck’s just being Hyuck.”

Jaemin stayed on the floor, dying internally.

Donghyuck only hummed, already drifting off again, blissfully unaware of the chaos he’d just unleashed.

And Mark patted his back gently, whispering, “Go to sleep, babe.”

But the smirk on the alpha’s face said very clearly:

He’s never letting Jaemin live this down.

By the time the first rays of the sun warmed the windows, the pack had already fallen into their usual morning rhythm.

Jeno and Jaemin were in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, focused on breakfast. Donghyuck had claimed pup-guard duty upstairs since Jisung was still too exhausted to wake, curled up in the center of the nest like a little oven-warm dumpling. Renjun and Chenle were out doing their early patrol, running quiet loops along the property line. And Mark…

Mark was trying. Really trying.

He stood over the new air fryer like it had personally wronged him, tapping the screen with the same intensity he used for pack meetings.

“Do I just click on cook? It doesn’t seem like it’s cooking though,” he muttered, brows scrunched in deep alpha confusion.

Jaemin didn’t even bother hiding his sigh. He wiped his hands on a towel and stepped in.

“Hyung, you didn’t close the basket.”

“It needs to be closed?” Mark asked, genuinely baffled.

Jeno, flipping pancakes at the stove, bit back a laugh so hard his shoulders shook.

“For the love of the Moon,” Jaemin said, sliding the basket in with a click and pressing the actual button. “There. Now it cooks.”

Mark crossed his arms like he meant to do that. “I loosened it for you.”

“Sure you did.”

Jeno snorted, plating another pancake, fluffy, golden, perfect.

“For our pup,” he said softly.

And Jaemin didn’t hide the small smile that tugged at his lips.

Breakfast would be ready soon.

And their omega would wake to a house full of warmth.

Mark slid the last pancake onto the plate and cleared his throat casually,  too casually. 

“Jaemin,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel, “now that our pup’s an omega… and, you know, you spent half the night glued to him… What are you making him this morning?”

Jaemin froze mid–stir of the oat batter.

Jeno’s spatula paused in the air.

Mark raised a brow. Waiting.

“…Breakfast?” Jaemin tried.

Mark gave him the most unimpressed alpha stare he had in his arsenal. “The tea, Jaemin.”

Jeno bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Jaemin sighed, relenting. “Hyung. You could just say you want me to make something comforting.”

“I could,” Mark agreed. “But it’s more fun this way.”

Jaemin muttered something under his breath, but already moved toward his small shelf of dried herbs. His movements shifted, slower, gentler, precise. His wolf had already stopped pretending.

He picked ingredients like he was choosing how to hold Jisung’s pulse in his hands.

Lemon balm. For calming the overwhelmed omega instincts that were still settling inside the pup.

Ginger. Only a bit, enough to warm him, not enough to irritate his fever-sensitive body.

Oatstraw. Renjun stocked it for recovery days; Jaemin added a pinch without thinking twice.

A drop of vanilla bean honey. Donghyuck insisted it made every tea taste like home.

Mark watched all of it in silence, arms folded, expression softening. “You’re careful with him,” he said finally.

Jaemin’s hand stilled over the ceramic mug. “…He needs careful.”

“He also needs someone who won’t growl at Hyuck every time he breathes near him.”

Jaemin groaned. “Hyuuung—”

“I’m just saying,” Mark shrugged. “Control, Nana. Especially with an omega who’s scared to ask for help.”

The gentle reprimand sank deep, but so did the trust behind it.

Jaemin exhaled slowly. “I know.”

Mark clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good. Now make the tea before Hyuck hears you’re slacking and steals the job.”

That was enough motivation.

Jaemin poured hot water into the mug and watched the herbs bloom, scent rising warm and soft, lemony, honey-sweet, almost like sunlight.

He held the cup with both hands for a moment, absorbing its warmth, imagining it passing into Jisung’s small palms.

“Okay,” he murmured, voice lower than he meant. “Let’s take this to him.”

Jeno hummed. “Make sure you don’t trip while staring at him again.”

Jaemin shot him a look. But the blush was impossible to hide.

He carried the mug upstairs with a caution that bordered on ritual, every step measured, every movement instinctive. The closer he got to the nest, the more focused he felt. Grounded. Pulled.

And by the time he reached the doorway, the tea’s steam curled softly around him, warm and sweet.

His wolf spoke before his thoughts could.

Take care of him. He’s ours.

And Jaemin stepped inside.

Donghyuck was sitting cross-legged in the center of the nest, gently weaving tiny braids into Jisung’s hair. The pup looked completely pliant under his hands, eyes half-lidded, shoulders loose, soft as a morning breeze. It was a picture of trust so pure it pressed right against Jaemin’s chest.

Then Jisung lifted his head.

The moment their eyes met, the pup brightened, quietly, instinctively, like Jaemin had brought the sun in with him.

“Good morning, pup,” Jaemin said, smile rising without effort. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Jisung murmured, rubbing at his eyes. “A little weird… but not bad.”

“I see,” Jaemin hummed, voice dipping warm. His wolf settled instantly at the sound of the pup’s honesty.

Donghyuck gave the pup’s back a light pat. “Up you go.”

Jisung sat up without complaint, blanket slipping off his shoulders as he reached for the mug Jaemin offered. “What’s this, hyung?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for the answer.

He took a sip the moment the cup touched his hands, small fingers curled around the warm ceramic, shoulders relaxing immediately at the first taste.

Jaemin blinked.

Donghyuck smirked.

“Ohhh,” Hyuck drawled, leaning closer as he tugged another braid into place. “He didn’t even ask if it was hot. Look at you, trusted without blinking.”

Jisung blinked up at Jaemin over the rim of the mug, cheeks warming. “I… just knew it was mine,” he whispered.

Jaemin swallowed, the words hitting deeper than they should. Because the tea was warm. But Jisung’s trust was warmer.

Once Jisung’s attention slipped to a video on his phone, little giggles escaping him now and then, Jaemin leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. 

“He seems alright. I’ll let him finish that, then straight to breakfast,” Donghyuck said, eyes still lingering on the pup as he sipped his tea. He knew Jaemin needed the update, the alpha practically vibrated with quiet concern.

“Jeno’s finishing the pancakes,” Jaemin replied. “And Mark just discovered how the air fryer works.”

Donghyuck sighed loudly, hand to his chest like it physically pained him. “He’d be lost without us.”

“I think he’s aware.” Jaemin snorted. “I’m sorry again,” he said quietly. “For… almost biting you.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. “No worries. Mark probably scolded you already, and honestly? That alone makes me feel avenged.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m adorable.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes, but then Jisung giggled at something on his screen, the little sound bright and soft.

Both wolves melted instantly, turning toward him like he’d tugged a string tied to their ribs.

“See?” Donghyuck whispered smugly. “Our pup forgives you faster than I do.”

Jaemin couldn’t even deny it. He was too busy watching Jisung smile.

Jisung finished the last sip of the tea, the warmth blooming across his cheeks in a way that made him feel floaty and good. He licked a little drop from his lip, then blinked owlishly at Jaemin.

“It’s sweet,” he murmured. “Like… calming.”

“It’s supposed to be,” Jaemin said, relieved at how steady his voice came out. “It’ll settle your system while everything adjusts.”

Donghyuck squinted. “Translation: he made it with too much instinct.”

“Hyung!” Jaemin hissed.

Jisung laughed again, softer this time, a shy little sound that hit Jaemin directly in the chest. “It’s okay. I liked it.”

Jaemin could only smile back, ears warming.

Then, after hearing Renjun and Chenle entering the house, the three of them walked downstairs, only to see  Jeno poke his head out from the kitchen, apron on and a smear of batter somehow on his cheek.

“Breakfast is ready! And Mark is banned from touching the air fryer until further notice.”

“Hey!” Mark protested from behind him. “I was experimenting! Great chefs experiment.”

“You almost melted the handle,” Jeno deadpanned.

Donghyuck threw his arms up dramatically. “SEE? Lost without us.”

Mark made a face at him. “Whatever. I’ll just make the bacon on the stove like a normal person.”

But his eyes darted toward Jisung, checking him, like he’d been doing every five minutes since last night.

Jisung set the empty mug down and stretched, the tiny braids Hyuck had made shifting against his neck. “Can I help with something?”

“Nope,” Donghyuck said immediately. “You’re on recovery duty. That means you sit pretty and let us serve you.”

“That sounds weird when you say it,” Mark muttered.

“It’s supposed to,” Donghyuck replied with a wink. Then he flicked Mark’s arm lightly. “Come on, Gordon Ramsay. You can help me set the table without breaking anything.”

Mark let out a low growl, half warning, half embarrassed grumble, but Donghyuck didn’t even flinch. He just kept walking, fully confident the alpha would follow. And of course, Mark did. 

Alphas. Predictable.

Jisung settled into his usual chair, watching Renjun and Chenle finish grooming themselves, quick, efficient movements, before they padded back into the kitchen to help. Meanwhile, Jaemin was still by the counter, focused and quiet, preparing the other morning teas and lining up the supplements the pup always complained about under his breath.

A minute later, Jeno emerged triumphantly, carrying a towering plate piled high with pancakes, looking like he’d just finished a masterful hunt.

“Ta-daaa,” he announced proudly, setting them down in the middle of the table. “Fluffy, golden, perfectly cooked pancakes. No burning, no smoke, no melted appliances… Looking at you, Mark.” He put his hands on his hips 

Mark’s offended gasp echoed from the counter. “It was ONE TIME—!”

“It was ten minutes ago,” Donghyuck replied without turning around.

Jeno leaned down slightly, his alpha instincts showing in the way he checked Jisung’s posture, his breathing, even the color on his cheeks. “How’re you feeling, pup?”

“Better,” Jisung said, smiling small. “Thank you for the pancakes, Hyung.”

Jeno’s chest puffed with pride. “Of course.”

Once everyone had settled around the table, the room wrapped in quiet morning peace, Mark finally cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Jeno and Jaemin, for making breakfast,” he said, sincere and soft in his alpha way. “Alright, dig in.”

As usual, once Mark took the first bite, every gaze drifted, almost instinctively, to Jisung.

His plate was the cutest one at the table, pancakes decorated with little fruit shapes and syrup patterns courtesy of Donghyuck and Jaemin working together like chaotic pastry chefs.

Jisung picked up his fork, took a big bite… and his cheeks puffed adorably as he chewed, a tiny, involuntary hum of satisfaction slipping out.

Only then, when that little sound confirmed the pup was okay, did the entire table finally relax. The pack exhaled as one, shoulders easing, warmth spreading through the room.

Jisung kept eating happily, still a little slow, still blinking like the morning light was too bright, but steady. Every few bites, he glanced around, at Jeno for approval, at Donghyuck for reassurance, at Mark and Renjun for safety, and at Jaemin… just because.

Jaemin pretended not to notice. 

He failed.

Halfway through the meal, Chenle nudged Renjun and whispered, far too loudly, as usual. “He’s making the little happy noises again.”

Renjun elbowed him without looking up from his tea. “Stop narrating him.”

“I’m appreciating!” Chenle protested.

Jisung’s ears went pink. Jaemin hid a smile behind his cup.

Donghyuck, of course, leaned dramatically toward the pup. “Baby, you like the pancakes that much?”

Jisung nodded earnestly. “They’re really good…”

Jeno lit up like he’d been handed a trophy. “I added extra vanilla.”

“And half a bag of sugar,” Renjun muttered.

Mark hummed thoughtfully through a mouthful. “Tastes good though.”

Jaemin reached out without thinking, thumb brushing away a bit of syrup from Jisung’s cheek. 

The pup froze, startled, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned just the slightest bit closer.

Jaemin’s heart skipped. So did three other alphas’ instincts. The table held its breath.

Donghyuck broke the silence first, eyes narrowing playfully. “Jaemin. Plate. Not pup. Focus.”

Jaemin nearly choked. “I am focusing!”

Jeno snorted. Mark covered a smile with his hand. 

Chenle whispered, “He’s so gone.”

Renjun sighed like he’d known from the beginning.

But Jisung… Jisung just beamed, cheeks flushed, taking another small bite like the world was safe again.

After Jaemin handed over the daily supplements, Jisung sniffed them, scrunched his nose, and let out a tiny growl, more puppy than omega, more adorable than threatening. A few of the hyungs hid their smiles behind their cups.

At the head of the table, Mark let out a long, pointed sigh. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to draw every eye, every ear, every instinct toward him.

“Alright,” the alpha began, steady and calm. “Now that Jisung has officially presented, we’re going to experience some changes. We’ll adjust, because our pack is strong and we take care of each other.”

The room shifted, everyone sitting a little straighter, focus sharpening.

“But first,” Mark continued, tone dropping to something both serious and gentle, “we need to address one important thing.”

A beat of silence.

Then, simply:

“Jisung’s first full moon as an omega.”

The pup froze. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, shoulders curling in as if he could make himself smaller, hide inside the oversized hoodie he wore.

The pack felt it. Jaemin especially.

And the air tightened around the table.

Jisung’s fingers curled around the edge of his plate, knuckles pale. He stared down at the pancakes as if they might offer an escape route.

Renjun was the first to react, voice quiet but firm. “Hey. Pup. Look at us.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Jisung lifted his gaze.

Chenle reached over and nudged his arm with his own. “We’re not going to throw you to the wolves. Mostly because you are one. But still.”

That earned a tiny huff from Jisung, barely there, but enough to ease the pack’s instincts.

Mark continued, tone calm. “The first full moon after presenting is… intense for any wolf. But for an omega, it’s confusing. Your instincts will be louder than you’re used to. You’ll feel overwhelmed at times.”

Jaemin watched Jisung flinch at the word omega. His hands tightened under the table.

“We’ll be with you the entire time,” Jaemin said before he could stop himself. “You won’t go through it alone.”

Jeno nodded firmly. “We’ll adjust. Make it comfortable for you.”

“And safe,” Renjun added pointedly, eyeing Jaemin for a second, because someone needed the reminder.

Donghyuck leaned in, deliberately lightening the mood. “Pup, you think we’re scared of a tiny little omega shift meltdown? I have those twice a week.”

Mark shot him a look. “Hyuck.”

“What? It’s true.”

Jisung’s lips wobbled, caught between a smile and nerves. “I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You don’t need to know,” Mark assured him. “You just listen to your body. Let your instincts guide you.”

“And let us handle the rest,” Jaemin murmured, eyes softening.

The pup swallowed again, but this time it wasn’t fear, it was relief. The pack’s quiet certainty wrapped around him like a warm blanket, grounding him.

Chenle nudged him again. “Besides, if you turn feral or something, we’ll just spray you with water.”

“Chenle.”

“Joking!”

“…mostly.”

Jisung actually laughed, small and breathy, but real.

Chenle beamed like he’d won a prize.

Donghyuck ruffled Jisung’s hair, voice soft. “Don’t worry, pup. You’ll be okay.”

Jisung nodded, but his eyes drifted again, to Jaemin.

The alpha felt it like a touch.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice so it was meant only for the pup. “We’ll make it easy for you,” Jaemin promised. “As easy as we can.”

Jisung’s throat bobbed. “And if… I get weird?”

Jaemin’s lips curved, fond and painfully gentle. “Then we deal with weird. Together.”

The pup’s shoulders loosened just a little.

Mark clapped his hands once. “Alright, everyone,” he announced with a leader’s calm finality. “We’ve got the entire day to prepare. The first full moon after a presentation is always unpredictable, but we’ll handle it as a pack.”

 A shiver ran through the pack. 

Anticipation. Instinct. The quiet understanding that something big was coming.

When everyone started moving, Jisung stood on slightly unsteady legs, looking around at his family, his pack, and for the first time since last night, he breathed out without trembling.

He didn’t know what his first moon would bring. He didn’t know how strong his new instincts would be. He didn’t know why Jaemin’s scent felt suddenly like gravity.

But one thing was clear.

There was no turning back.

Jaemin lingered at the doorway, watching him with a look that was too soft, too protective, too something.

“Ready, pup?” he asked quietly.

Jisung swallowed, nervous, hopeful, and something else he didn’t have a name for.

“I… think so.”

The pack moved around them, preparing, planning, murmuring.

The house buzzed with instinct.

The moon was hours away.

And as Jisung stepped closer to Jaemin, drawn by something new, something powerful, one thing echoed through the air, unspoken but heavy:

Tonight, the omega heart of the pack will rise.

And no one, not even Jisung, knew what that would bring. But they were waiting for it. 

They would face it together, because they were The Dream Pack.

☽