I looked at Hwan, who had apologized for chasing me. Who had admitted his sunshine was a mask and trusted me with that vulnerability. Who had made me laugh with his ridiculous cooking videos when I'd forgotten how to smile.
I looked at Jin-ho, who had seen my loneliness in my lyrics and recognized it because he felt it too. Who had been writing me a song, a gift of words and music, asking for nothing in return except the chance to share it.
I looked at Min-jun, who had been cooking for me for days. Who had remembered a throwaway comment from an interview years ago because he paid attention, because he cared, because food was his love language and he'd been speaking it to me since before we'd even met.
They're not what we feared, my omega repeated, gentle but insistent.They never were. The only monster here is the one we invented.
She was right. Jeni was right. All those letters, all those texts, all those small gestures of care — they'd been right. I'd been so busy running from a nightmare that I'd almost missed the dream standing right in front of me. I lay there for a long moment, just breathing. Just existing. Just letting myself feel the safety of being surrounded by pack without running from it.
The fear was still there. I didn't think it would ever go away completely — not after twelve years of running, twelve years of walls, twelve years of convincing myself that bonds were cages and alphas were jailers. But it was quieter now. Smaller. Easier to look at without flinching.
Underneath the fear, there was something else. Something that felt like hope. Something that felt like the first green shoots of spring pushing through frozen ground.
I wanted this.
I wantedthem.
Not because the bonds were forcing me, not because my body was demanding it, but because they'd earned it. They'd proven themselves. They'd shown me who they really were, and who they really were was nothing like the monsters I'd been running from.
So stay, my omega urged, the single word carrying the weight of everything we'd been through.Stop running. Stop hiding. Just... stay.
I wanted to. God, I wanted to.
There was still a voice in my head — my mother's voice, small and broken — whispering warnings.They seem kind now. They always do at first. But wait until you're bonded. Wait until you can't leave. Then you'll see.
She was wrong, my omega countered fiercely.She was broken by bad alphas, and she passed that brokenness to us. But we don't have to carry it anymore. We can choose something different. We can choose them.
Could I?
Could I really let go of twelve years of fear based on letters and texts and a few days of being cared for?
Yes, my omega said simply.Because that's how trust works. You take a leap. You let yourself fall. And you hope — you believe — that they'll catch you.
They'd already caught me once. On that park bench, when I'd been too weak to stand. Jae-won had found me, had held me, had carried me home.
Maybe it was time to let them catch me again.
I opened my eyes again and found Jae-won watching me.
He was awake now, his dark eyes soft with something I couldn't quite name, his body perfectly still like he was afraid of spooking me. He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just watched me with an expression that was equal parts hope and fear.
"Hi," I said, my voice rough with sleep and disuse, barely more than a whisper.
"Hi." A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his whole body seeming to relax at the simple word. He didn't reach for me, didn't crowd me, just stayed exactly where he was. "How are you feeling?"
I considered the question. Took stock of my body, my mind, my heart. The soul sickness was still there, but it was manageable. The fear was still there, but it was quiet. And underneath both of those things...
"Better," I said honestly, and watched his smile widen slightly, relief flooding through his thunderstorm scent, his shoulders dropping as tension bled out of them. "I feel better."
"Good." His voice was rough with emotion, his eyes glistening in the early morning light. He still didn't move closer, still gave me space, still let me set the pace. "That's good. You scared us."
"I know." I swallowed hard, guilt rising in my chest. "I'm sorry. I should have asked for help sooner. I should have?—"
"You're here now." He interrupted gently, his hand finally moving to cover mine, his touch warm and grounding. He paused, giving me a chance to pull away, and when I didn't, his fingers curled around mine. "That's what matters. You're here, and you're safe, and we're going to take care of you. Okay?"
I looked at his hand on mine. Looked at the other alphas still sleeping around us. Looked at the nest they'd built, filled with their scents and their care and their desperate hope that I might finally let them in.
Jeni's voice echoed in my memory again:What if the bonds could be good? What if letting them in could heal you instead of break you?
