It looked like a home. Their home. And now, temporarily at least, mine.
Jae-won was the only one in the living room when I entered. He stood by the windows with his back to me, a tablet in his hands — probably reviewing schedules or answering emails, I realized. Even now, even in the middle of all this, he was working. Tension was visible in the line of his broad shouldersbeneath his black sweater, and his jet black hair was perfectly styled as always, not a strand out of place. His indigo bond pulsed the moment I stepped into the room, and he turned immediately, setting the tablet aside as his dark eyes — so dark they were nearly black — found mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"You're up." Jae-won's voice was carefully controlled as he spoke, neutral and measured, but I could see the strain around his eyes. His jaw was set tight, and his hands flexed at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for me. The small scar through his left eyebrow caught the light as he tilted his head, studying me.
"I'm up." I confirmed it from my spot near the doorway, suddenly uncertain under the weight of his gaze. "Min-jun said the others had things to handle?"
"Choreographer meeting for Hwan and Tae-min. Jin-ho is in his studio working on arrangement revisions." Jae-won answered with a curt nod, moving away from the window to stand near the couch. "We're trying to keep the comeback on track while managing... this."
"Min-jun explained about the scheduling." I said, moving further into the room. "And about the company. About my work."
"Mina Choi has been fully briefed." Jae-won's voice was all business as he explained, pack alpha handling logistics. "She understands you're dealing with a medical situation and has agreed to handle things on her end. The executives know only that you're temporarily unavailable and that SIREN is managing the situation personally. Your position is secure."
"And they're okay with that?" I asked, the skepticism creeping into my tone despite my best efforts.
"They're okay with whatever I tell them to be okay with." Jae-won's jaw tightened as he spoke, a flash of something hard in hisdark eyes. "We've earned enough goodwill — and made enough money for that company — that they don't question when I say something is being handled." His expression softened slightly. "Your job is safe, Keira. Focus on getting through the next week."
"Thank you." I said it softly, meaning it. "For handling all of that. For... for taking care of things I didn't even think about."
"That's my job." Jae-won's voice gentled as he responded, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Pack alpha means handling the logistics so the pack can focus on what matters. Right now, what matters is you." Before I could respond, the elevator at the far end of the penthouse chimed softly. Jae-won straightened immediately, his expression shifting into something more professional.
"That will be Dr. Yoon." He spoke as he moved toward the elevator, his long stride eating up the distance. Then he paused, looking back at me over his shoulder. "She's good, Keira. Thorough but gentle. She's worked with our team for years — understands the need for discretion. If anything makes you uncomfortable, you can stop the examination at any time. Your choice."
"Okay." I nodded, letting the words settle something anxious in my chest. "I'm ready."
Dr. Yoon was a small woman in her fifties with silver-streaked hair pulled back in a neat bun and sharp, intelligent eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. She carried a medical bag in one hand and moved with the brisk efficiency of someone who had seen everything and was surprised by nothing. Her handshake was firm when Jae-won made the introductions, her gaze assessing but not unkind as she took me in.
"Miss Park." Dr. Yoon greeted me with a professional nod, releasing my hand and turning to set her bag on the coffee table. "I'm Dr. Yoon Min-seo. I specialize in omega health and pack dynamics. I've worked with SIREN's team for several years now— nothing quite like this situation, but I understand the need for discretion."
"Thank you for coming on short notice." I responded, finding myself relaxing slightly at her matter-of-fact tone. No pity, no excessive concern, just calm competence.
"When Jae-won calls at two in the morning saying his pack has found their omega and she's critically ill, I make time." Dr. Yoon's voice was dry as she pulled out various instruments, arranging them on the table with practiced efficiency. "I'll need to do a physical examination and run some tests. Blood work, vital signs, a bond resonance scan. It will help me understand exactly what your body is going through and give us a clearer timeline for what's ahead."
"My heat." I said the word flatly, and it felt strange in my mouth — clinical and foreign. I'd spent so long on suppressants that I'd almost forgotten what it meant to have a natural cycle.
"Among other things." Dr. Yoon glanced at Jae-won as she spoke, her sharp eyes taking in his rigid posture by the windows. "I'll need privacy for the examination. Standard protocol."
"Of course." Jae-won nodded curtly as he answered, though a muscle jumped in his jaw. "I have calls to make anyway — our manager needs updates on this week's schedule adjustments. I'll be in my study. If you need anything?—"
"We'll manage." Dr. Yoon cut him off, her tone polite but firm. "This shouldn't take more than an hour." Jae-won hesitated for a long moment, his indigo bond straining toward me with almost visible reluctance. Then he turned without another word and disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.
"Pack alpha hovering a bit?" Dr. Yoon asked once he was gone, one silver eyebrow arching slightly.
"Yes." I confirmed with a small nod.
"They're always the hardest to send away." Dr. Yoon remarked dryly, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Though I will say, he's handling it better than most. I've had pack alphas physically refuse to leave the room before." She shook her head at the memory, then gestured toward the couch. "Shall we begin?"
The examination was thorough but surprisingly gentle. Dr. Yoon checked my vital signs with efficient hands, drew blood with practiced ease, and used a small handheld device to scan the bond points on my chest — five distinct locations that pulsed with warmth when the scanner passed over them.
"Fascinating." Dr. Yoon murmured the word as she studied the readout on her tablet, her brow furrowing slightly. "Five triggered bonds, all incomplete. I've read about this configuration, but I've never actually seen one in person."
"Is that bad?" I asked, hearing the tremor in my own voice.
"It's rare." Dr. Yoon answered thoughtfully, setting the tablet aside and fixing me with that sharp, assessing gaze. "Complete five-alpha packs are uncommon to begin with. Finding an omega who triggers all five bonds is... well, some would call it fate. Others might call it incredibly unlikely odds finally coming through."
"I'm not sure I believe in fate." I said it more bitterly than I intended.
"Neither do I, particularly." Dr. Yoon responded with a slight smile. "I believe in biology, chemistry, and the complex interplay of pheromones and neural responses that we call bond dynamics. What I can tell you is that your body has recognized these five alphas as optimal genetic and psychological matches. The bonds triggered because your systems are fundamentally compatible at a molecular level."
