We should be preparing, my omega reminded me gently.Not hiding. Jeni said?—
"I know what Jeni said," I muttered under my breath, earning a strange look from an elderly woman passing by with her grocery bags. "I just need a little more time."
Time, it seemed, was something I wasn't going to get.
The store was quiet when I pushed through the glass door, the electronic chime announcing my arrival to the bored-looking cashier scrolling through her phone behind the counter. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in that particular shade of artificial brightness that made my head pound. The smell of convenience store food — processed meat and synthetic cheese and the slightly stale scent of bread that had been sitting under heat lamps too long — turned my stomach, but I forced myself to move deeper into the aisles.
Water first. Then noodles. Then out.
Simple. Quick. Safe.
I grabbed a case of water bottles from the refrigerated section, the cold seeping through my hoodie sleeves and providing a brief moment of relief against my fevered skin. My reflection in the glass door looked like a ghost — pale skin, dark circles under eyes that seemed too bright, hair limp and tangled despite the shower I'd forced myself to take that morning. I looked away before I could catalog any more evidence of my deterioration.
The noodle aisle was at the back of the store, past the snacks and the toiletries and the small section of household goods. I shuffled toward it with my case of water clutched against my chest like armor, my omega unusually quiet as I navigated the narrow aisles.
Too quiet.
I should have recognized the warning.
I turned the corner into the noodle aisle and walked directly into a wall of scent.
Ocean spray and mint.
Fresh and bright like a summer breeze off the coast, clean and playful and achingly young. It crashed over me like a wave breaking against rocks, flooding my senses so completely thatfor a moment I forgot how to breathe. My omega surged to the surface with a cry of recognition, her presence blazing through my consciousness like a wildfire finally given fuel.
ALPHA, she screamed.OURS. PACK. FINALLY.
No, I thought desperately, even as my body swayed toward him like a flower turning to the sun.Not yet. I'm not ready. I was supposed to have more time.
The case of water slipped from my nerveless fingers and hit the linoleum floor with a crack of splitting plastic. I heard the sound from very far away, muffled by the roaring in my ears, by the thundering of my own heartbeat, by the sensation of something fundamental shifting inside my chest.
He was standing at the other end of the aisle, frozen mid-reach for a package of ramyeon, his hand still extended toward the shelf. Young — the youngest of them, I remembered from the articles I'd read, from the performances I'd watched before any of this had become personal. Sharp features softened by youth, dark hair falling across his forehead in an artful mess, a face that millions of fans had memorized and plastered on posters and screamed at during concerts.
Tae-min.
The golden maknae of SIREN.
His eyes — dark brown, wide with shock, fixed on me with an intensity that made my knees want to buckle — his eyes met mine, and the world exploded into crimson. The bond snapped into place like a rubber band pulled too tight and released, the sensation so intense it tore a gasp from my throat. I felt it lock into my chest beside the other two, a third thread anchoring itself behind my ribs, crimson red and burning with a heat that made the other bonds feel cool by comparison. The flower on my mark blazed to life — I could feel it blooming against my skin, petals unfurling in shades of red like blood, like roses, like thesunset I'd watched from my mother's hospital window the night she died.
Three bonds now.
Three threads pulling me toward three alphas.
Three incomplete connections tearing my soul apart.
"Keira," Tae-min breathed, my name falling from his lips like a prayer, his package of ramyeon slipping from his fingers to land on the floor with a soft crinkle of plastic. His scent intensified — ocean spray and mint flooding with something richer, something darker, alpha arousal and recognition and desperate, aching need. "It's you. It's really you."
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Could only stand there, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, as the third bond settled into my chest with a weight that made it hard to breathe. My hand found the shelving unit beside me, gripping hard enough that the metal edge bit into my palm, the pain a distant thing compared to the fire burning behind my ribs.
I wasn't ready, I thought again, the words cycling through my mind on repeat.I was supposed to have more time. I promised Jeni I would try, but I'm not ready, I can't?—
"We've been looking everywhere," Tae-min continued, taking a cautious step toward me, his sneakers squeaking softly against the linoleum floor. His voice was trembling, barely controlled, like he was afraid that speaking too loudly might make me disappear. "Hwan-hyung and Jin-ho-hyung told us about you. About what happened when they met you. We've been trying to find you for days."
"Stay back," I managed to force out, the words scraping against my throat like sandpaper, my voice thin and reedy. I held up my free hand, palm out, a barrier that felt pathetically inadequate against the pull of the bond demanding I close the distance between us. "Please. Just — stay back. Give me a second."
Tae-min stopped immediately, his whole body going rigid with the effort of obeying. I could see the war playing out across his features — the alpha instincts screaming at him to move closer, to claim, to protect, battling against whatever his hyungs had told him about respecting my boundaries. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles going white, and a muscle jumped in his jaw as he fought for control.
"Okay," he said softly, his voice cracking on the word. "Okay, I'll stay here. I won't come any closer. But Keira — you're sick. I can smell it. The soul sickness, it's..." He trailed off, his nose wrinkling slightly as he took in another breath of my scent, and I watched his expression shift from desperate hope to genuine alarm. His dark eyes went wide, the color draining from his face beneath the warm tan of his skin.
