chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Broken Wings and Silent Tears**

**(700+ Words)**

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### **Jimin’s Secret**

The snow fell gently outside the Park family’s mansion, blanketing the garden in quiet. Seven-year-old Jimin crouched behind a stone bench, his small hands cradling a sparrow with a broken wing. The bird trembled, its tiny heart racing against Jimin’s palm. He glanced around nervously—no one was watching.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jimin whispered. Slowly, his fingertips began to glow, a soft golden light spreading over the bird’s injured wing. He’d discovered this strange power last winter when he’d healed a frozen butterfly. But his parents had scolded him harshly: *“Never let anyone see this. They’ll think you’re a monster.”*

The sparrow’s wing twitched, then straightened. It chirped weakly, nuzzling Jimin’s thumb. He smiled, tears pricking his eyes. *Why is helping someone… wrong?*

“Jimin-ah!”

He jumped, hiding the bird behind his back. J-Hope, the family’s young Beta servant, bounded over, his cheeks pink from the cold. At fifteen, J-Hope was more like an older brother than a servant, always sneaking Jimin sweets or making him laugh during boring etiquette lessons.

“Your mother’s looking for you,” J-Hope said, eyeing the squirming lump under Jimin’s coat. “Another ‘project’?”

Jimin bit his lip. “Promise you won’t tell?”

J-Hope sighed but nodded. Jimin revealed the sparrow, now flapping its healed wing. J-Hope’s eyes widened. “Jimin… you can’t keep doing this. What if someone sees?”

“But it’s *hurting*,” Jimin argued, his voice shaking. “I can’t just… not help.”

Before J-Hope could reply, a sharp voice cut through the garden. “*Jimin!*”

His mother stood on the terrace, her silk robe billowing like a storm cloud. At her side stood Jimin’s tutor, a strict Omega woman who always smelled like vinegar. Jimin quickly let the sparrow go, watching it fly away.

“Inside. *Now*,” his mother ordered.

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### **The Cage of Perfection**

Jimin’s room was beautiful but cold—white walls, white curtains, white bedsheets. His mother paced as the tutor drilled him.

“Posture, Jimin. A Dominant Omega must be *graceful*,” the woman snapped, smacking his back with a ruler.

“But why?” Jimin asked, wincing. “Dominant Omegas are strong, right? Why do I have to act weak?”

His mother whirled around. “Because the world fears strong Omegas! You must hide your dominance until you’re married. Then your husband will… *manage* it.”

Jimin stared at his lap. *Manage*. The word sounded like chains.

Later, as dusk painted the sky purple, J-Hope sneaked into his room with a stolen honey cake. “Eat,” he said, nudging the treat toward Jimin. “You look like a ghost.”

Jimin picked at the cake. “Do you think I’ll ever get to *be* myself?”

J-Hope hesitated. “Maybe… after you marry?”

“What if my husband hates me?”

“Then I’ll punch him,” J-Hope said, flexing his skinny arms. They both laughed, but Jimin’s laugh sounded more like a sob.

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### **Jungkook’s Pain**

Far north, in the Jeon family’s fortress-like home, six-year-old Jungkook stood frozen in the training yard. His fists were wrapped in bloodied bandages, his breath fogging the icy air. His father, Minister Jeon, loomed over him like a mountain.

“Again,” the man barked.

Jungkook punched the wooden dummy. *Thud. Thud. Thud.* Each strike sent pain shooting up his arms, but he didn’t stop. *Weakness is shame. Weakness is failure.*

“Pathetic,” his father spat when Jungkook’s knees buckled. “Your brother Jin mastered this drill at *five*.”

Jungkook glanced at Jin, who stood rigidly nearby. At twelve, Jin was already a perfect Alpha heir—strong, emotionless, obedient. He didn’t even blink when their father shoved Jungkook into the snow.

“Get up!” Minister Jeon roared.

That night, Jungkook crept to the abandoned corner of the compound where his mother had planted a cherry tree before she died. The tree was dead now, its branches clawing at the moon. From his pocket, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper and a broken pencil.

He drew her face—the way she’d smiled when she sang him lullabies, the warmth of her hands. Tears dripped onto the paper.

Suddenly, the door crashed open.

“*Drawing?*” His father snatched the sketch, lips curling in disgust. “Sentimental *trash*.” He threw it into the fireplace.

Jungkook watched the flames eat his mother’s smile. He didn’t cry. Crying was for the weak.

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### **A Letter of Destiny**

Years later, on Jimin’s 18th birthday, the Parks hosted a grand ball. The mansion buzzed with Alpha suitors in polished suits, their eyes sharp as they evaluated Jimin—a rare Omega prize.

Jimin stood by the window, his silver silk robes heavy as armor. Across the room, his parents chatted with Min Yoongi, a cold-faced Alpha with eyes like steel. Yoongi hadn’t even glanced at Jimin all night.

*He doesn’t want this either*, Jimin realized.

A snowball hit the window. Outside, J-Hope waved wildly, making silly faces. Jimin covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Jimin!” His mother appeared, nails digging into his wrist. “Stop acting like a child. Smile. Min Yoongi has agreed to marry you.”

Jimin’s heart stopped. “But… I don’t love him.”

“Love?” His mother laughed bitterly. “You’re a *rare Omega*. Your life was never yours to begin with.”

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### **A Cold Proposal**

That same night, in the Jeon fortress, Jungkook—now nineteen—sat alone in his room. A letter lay on his desk, its red wax seal stamped with the Park family’s phoenix crest.

*“To Jeon Jungkook… The Parks request your hand in marriage to their son, Park Jimin…”*

Jungkook crumpled the letter. He’d heard of Jimin—a shy, fragile Omega who glowed like a lantern. *Another pretty puppet*, he thought.

But as he stared into the fire, memories flashed—his mother’s voice, his father’s cruelty. Maybe… maybe a marriage far from this house could be freedom.

Or another cage.

He threw the letter into the flames.

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