Yes. God, yes. I wanted them so much it scared me.
Wanting and accepting were different things. Wanting and trusting were different things. Wanting and letting go of twelve years of fear were very, very different things.
It's okay to be scared, my omega said gently.But don't let fear make the decision for us. Not again.
She was right. Jeni was right. All of them were right. I'd let fear control me for so long that I didn't know how to exist without it. But fear had almost killed me. Fear had driven me to hide until I'd collapsed on a park bench, too weak to even call for help.
These alphas weren't the monsters I'd been running from. They'd proven that over and over again. With their letters. Their patience. Their respect for my boundaries. Their desperate, careful hope.
They're not what we feared, my omega whispered.Let them in. Please.
I drifted again, but this time it was lighter. More like actual sleep and less like the grey nothing I'd been floating through before. Dreams flickered at the edges of my consciousness — fragments of memory and imagination blurring together. My mother's face, hollow and broken. The pack of alphas who had destroyed her, their cruelty echoing through my childhood nightmares.
Then the dreams shifted.
It wasn't her pack anymore. It was Hwan, sitting cross-legged on a practice room floor, his smile dimming when he thought no one was watching. It was Jin-ho in a corner, notebook in hand, pouring loneliness onto the page because he didn't know how to speak it out loud. It was Tae-min, trembling before his first stage, convinced he didn't deserve to be there. It was Min-jun in a kitchen at three in the morning, cooking for people who didn't know he was awake because taking care of others was easier than taking care of himself. It was Jae-won, carrying the weight of a pack on his shoulders, terrified of dropping them.
Not monsters. Not cage-builders. Just people.
Scared, imperfect people who wanted to love me.
Let them, my omega urged softly.They've earned it. Let them try.
When I finally woke — truly woke — it was to the soft grey light of dawn filtering through unfamiliar curtains.
I blinked slowly, my eyes gritty and dry, my body heavy in a way that spoke of deep sleep rather than illness. The soul sickness was still there — I could feel it lurking at the edges of my consciousness — but it was muted now. Manageable. Like a wound that was finally starting to heal.
I was lying in a nest.
The realization hit me slowly, my sleep-fogged brain taking time to process the sensory input. Soft blankets beneath me, piled high and arranged in a circle. Pillows everywhere, some firm and some soft, all of them carrying different scents. The warmth of bodies surrounding me — not touching, but close enough that I could feel their heat.
I turned my head slowly, taking in the room.
Jae-won was closest, his back against a pile of pillows, his hand resting near my shoulder like he'd been touching me before he fell asleep. His face was softer in sleep, the tension around his eyes and mouth finally eased. He looked younger like this. Less like a pack alpha carrying the weight of the world and more like a man who'd finally found something he'd been searching for.
Beyond him, Tae-min was curled up near my feet, his body positioned protectively, his dark hair falling across his forehead. Even in sleep, his brow was slightly furrowed, like he couldn't stop worrying even in his dreams.
Hwan was on my other side, his golden hair a mess against a pillow that smelled like vanilla, one hand stretched out toward me like he'd been reaching for contact. His sunshine scent was softer now, tinged with sleep and something that smelled like relief.
Jin-ho was near my head, sitting with his back against the wall, his notebook open on his lap. He must have been the last one awake — his pen was still loosely held in his ink-stained fingers, and there were words scrawled across the page that I couldn't quite make out. Lyrics, probably. Maybe the ones he'd been singing. Min-jun was between Jin-ho and Hwan, his broad shoulders rising and falling with deep, even breaths, his forest-and-cedar scent wrapping around me like a warm embrace.
They'd built this nest for me. Filled it with their scents and their presence and their care. They'd surrounded me while I slept, close enough to help but not so close that I'd feel trapped.
Even unconscious, they were respecting my boundaries.
The thought made something crack in my chest.
This is what pack can be, my omega said softly, wonder threading through her voice.Not cages. Not control. Just... care. Just people who want to keep us safe.
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to let myself have this. The fear was still there, coiled in my chest like a sleeping snake. What if I let them in and they changed? What if they were only being patient now, while I was sick and scared, and once I was better they became controlling? What if my mother's story really was inevitable, just delayed?
Stop, my omega said firmly, more forceful than I'd ever heard her.Just stop. Look at them. Really look.
I looked.
I looked at Jae-won, who had promised never to command me and had kept that promise even when I was collapsing in his arms. Who had written me a letter admitting his deepest fear and asked me not to tell the others because they needed him to be strong.
I looked at Tae-min, who had found me at my worst and hadn't pushed. Who had walked me home and let me go, eventhough it must have killed him. Who had told me that fear lies and then proven it by being nothing like what I'd feared.
