"Keira," Mina greets, her sharp gaze assessing me as I slide into a chair. "Busy morning?"
"Always," I reply, keeping my tone neutral. "What's the project?"
Jihoon clears his throat. "We need a title track for SIREN's upcoming album. Fast turnaround. The concept is dark, emotional—something that grips the audience instantly."
For a moment, I forget how to breathe.
SIREN.
One of the biggest K-pop groups in the world. Five members, all alphas, all devastatingly talented, all shrouded in the kind of mystery that makes fans obsessive and media outlets desperate. They debuted six years ago and have been dominating charts and breaking records ever since. Their music isn't typical K-pop fare, it's darker, deeper, layered with complexity and emotional nuance that sets them apart from every other group in the industry.
They're known for something else, too. Something that makes my stomach tighten and my mark pulse beneath my collar.
SIREN's soulmark is public knowledge. All five members share the same mark—a branch with a single teal flower, marking them as bonded to one another and to a sixth person who hasn't yet been found. Their shared soulmate. The one who will complete their bond and become the center of their pack.
The industry has been speculating about that sixth person for years. Who are they? Where are they? Why haven't they been found yet?
Five members.
Five flowers on my mark.
No. No, it's impossible. The coincidence is too perfect, too cruel. The universe couldn't be that sadistic.
Could it?
"You think I'm the right fit for them?" I manage, my voice steady despite the hurricane of panic building in my chest.
Mina smirks. "You've written half the industry's most gut-wrenching love songs. SIREN needs something unforgettable. You're the best choice."
I should refuse. Make an excuse. Walk out of this room and never look back.
Instead, I hear myself saying, "Tell me more about the concept."
The meeting stretches on as Jihoon breaks down the expectations. SIREN's comeback. A full-length album, their first in two years. The label wants something legendary—raw, soulful, dangerous.
“They want something that lingers," Jihoon explains. "Something haunting. A song that makes people feel like they're being pulled under and don't want to come back up."
The challenge sparks something in me despite my fear. I know SIREN's sound, I've studied their discography, admired their artistry. They're not typical idols. Their music has depth, complexity, emotional honesty that most groups never achieve.
Writing for them would be the opportunity of a lifetime. Writing for them might also bring me face-to-face with five alphas who could be…I shut the thought down before it can fully form.
"They sent references?" I ask, pulling out my notebook.
Jihoon nods and casts a file onto the conference room screen. Clips of performances flicker to life—SIREN's last title track, dark and sensual, laced with tension. The choreography is sharp, the visuals cinematic. Even through the screen, their presence is undeniable.
Then I feel it.
A strange pull. Familiar yet foreign. A whisper of something I can't quite place, tugging at my chest like an invisible thread. Mymark tingles beneath my collar. All five flowers, simultaneously, as if responding to something in the images on the screen.
I keep my expression neutral, but my pulse betrays me, beating too fast against my throat.
It's nothing,I tell myself.Just nerves. Just the excitement of a challenging project.
My mother's voice echoes in my memory:"The bond knows, Keira. Even before you do. It knows, and it reaches for what it wants."
"I'll need a few days," I say, clearing my throat. "To get the concept right."
Mina nods. "We'll give you the studio. Work your magic."
