Thunderstorm and petrichor.
Wild and powerful, cutting through the fog of fever and exhaustion like lightning splitting the sky. It crashed over me in waves, flooding my senses, making every nerve ending in my body light up with recognition.
ALPHA, my omega called out, surging to the surface with strength I didn't know she had left.PACK ALPHA. OURS. FINALLY.
I forced my eyes open — when had I closed them? — and found myself staring at a figure standing at the edge of the path, maybe fifteen feet away. Tall and broad-shouldered, dark hair windswept from running, a face I'd seen in photos and interviews and dreams I'd tried not to remember. He wasbreathing hard, his chest heaving, his dark eyes wide as they locked onto me.
Jae-won.
The pack alpha of SIREN.
The fifth and final piece of a puzzle I'd been running from since my twenty-third birthday. He was frozen in place, his whole body rigid with shock. I watched his nostrils flare as he caught my scent, watched his hands clench into fists at his sides, watched the emotions cascade across his face — recognition, relief, fear, desperate longing.
"Keira," he breathed, my name falling from his lips like a prayer and a curse all at once, his deep voice rough with emotion.
The fifth bond didn't trigger.
Not yet.
He was too far away, or I was too weak, or maybe the universe was giving us one last moment of clarity before everything changed. Either way, I could feel it hovering at the edge of my consciousness — deep indigo, vast and powerful, waiting to crash into place.
Something else was happening too. Just his presence, his scent — even from this distance, I could feel something easing in my chest. The four bonds weren't pulling quite so painfully. The ache was still there, but it was... softer. More bearable.
Being near them helps, my omega realized, wonder threading through her exhaustion.We need them close.
"You found me," I managed, my voice barely a whisper, my lips cracked and dry. "My message... you understood..."
"You said park and bench," Jae-won said, taking a careful step closer, his movements slow and deliberate like he was approaching a wounded animal. "There's only one park between the restaurant and your apartment. I ran the whole way. I was soscared I wouldn't—" His voice cracked, his jaw tightening as he fought for control. "But I found you."
With each step he took closer, I could feel the soul sickness receding slightly. His scent wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and some of the tension in my muscles began to ease. My omega hummed with quiet relief.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks. "I tried to type more. Couldn't. My hands wouldn't?—"
"Don't apologize." Another step closer, his thunderstorm scent getting stronger. I could feel the bond straining at the edges of my consciousness, desperate to snap into place. "You did enough. You reached out. That's what matters."
"I was trying," I said, the words tumbling out, desperate to make him understand. "I wasn't running. Not this time. I was trying to go home. I just... I couldn't make it. My legs gave out and I couldn't?—"
"I know." He was only a few feet away now, close enough that I could see the tears gathering in his dark eyes, close enough that his scent was almost overwhelming. And the closer he got, the better I felt. Not healed — far from it — but stabilized. Like his presence alone was keeping the worst of the soul sickness at bay. "Min-jun told us about the restaurant before your message came through. He told us you stayed. You talked to him. You didn't run."
"I'm done running," I breathed, and the words felt like a vow, like a promise, like the most important thing I'd ever said. "I don't want to run anymore. I want... I want to stay. I want to let you in. All of you. I just..."
"Just what?" Jae-won asked softly, crouching down so he was at eye level with me, his face inches from mine. This close, I could see the worry lines etched around his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his whole body was trembling with the effortof holding himself back. This close, his scent enveloped me completely, and I felt stronger than I had in hours.
"I'm scared," I admitted, the confession tearing itself from somewhere deep inside me. "I'm still so scared. Not of you. Not anymore. I'm scared I waited too long. I'm scared I wasted so much time being afraid when I could have been getting to know you. All of you."
"You didn't waste anything." Jae-won's voice was gentle but firm, his dark eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "You're here now. That's what matters."
"You read my letter," I realized, remembering what I'd written to them, the vulnerability I'd poured onto the page. "You know about my mother. About why I was so scared."
"We all read it." He reached out, his hand hovering just above my cheek, not quite touching. "And we all understood. What happened to your mother was terrible. But you're not her, and we're not him. We would never?—"
"I know." The words came out stronger than anything I'd said so far, fueled by a certainty I hadn't known I possessed. "I know you wouldn't. I've known since the letters. Maybe even before that. I was just too scared to believe it."
"And now?" Jae-won asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his dark eyes searching mine with desperate hope.
"Now I'm starting to believe it," I said simply. "That you're not what I was afraid of. I believe my mother's story doesn't have to be mine. I believe that breaking and completing are opposite things, and I've been making myself sick trying to avoid a future I invented based on someone else's trauma."
Something shifted in his expression — relief and hope and something fierce that made my heart stutter. A sound escaped him, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and his hovering hand finally made contact with my cheek.
