Chapter 3
Servants rushed in and out of chambers like waves crashing against a fragile shore, arms full of silk, gold-threaded robes, scented oils, and ritual scrolls. The air reeked of jasmine and nerves. Every wall whispered of wedding rites and union blessings. Every breath Taehyung took felt borrowed.
He sat by the window again, still cloaked in the same pale robe he had worn since morning, eyes cast downward as his maid braided his hair with trembling fingers.
Maid
You should be excited,
She said softly, trying to smile.
Maid
You’ll be a consort. A queen.
Taehyung said nothing. His fingers were clenched beneath the silk of his robes.
He wasn’t afraid of the curse. He wasn’t afraid of Jeon Jungkook.
He was afraid of being erased.
Of becoming nothing more than a pretty thing in the pages of a peace treaty. A soft, obedient sacrifice dressed in white, tied to a man no one dared speak to directly.
He was the son of Alpha Taesun.
The omega everyone watched.
The moon-blessed one.
But no one ever asked him what he wanted.
The maid tied the final braid with a blue ribbon—Blue Moon’s sacred color—and left quietly, not noticing the way Taehyung’s shoulders had begun to tremble.
Once alone, he stood and moved to the balcony, bare feet touching the cold marble tiles. The sky was washed in dusk, the stars not yet bold enough to appear. Wind tugged at the ends of his robe, and from this high, he could see beyond the palace walls—the forest, the plains, the line of mountains that separated them from Blackthorn territory.
Somewhere beyond that line lived the man he was to marry.
He had only heard stories—stories of a boy raised in silence, whose aura frightened even other alphas. A man whose eyes were too empty, too sharp. Who once tore through a rogue den alone without shifting.
They said no one who loved him lived long enough to regret it.
And now, Taehyung was to be his.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
I’ll go,
He whispered aloud, voice stolen by the wind.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
But I won’t belong to him.
He would protect the pack. Play his role. Bind the curse, if the Moon willed it. But he would not let himself be consumed by someone else’s darkness. Not again.
Behind him, the chamber door opened. Taehyung didn’t turn.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
You’re early,
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
You skipped dinner.
It was Namjoon’s voice—low, deep, comforting in the way that only family could be. Taehyung turned slowly, and his gaze softened when he saw his older brother-figure standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
Was it worth coming all the way here just to scold me?
Taehyung asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Namjoon sighed and walked in, letting the door close behind him.
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
You know why I came.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
To lecture me.
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
To remind you that you’re not alone.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Namjoon stood at the edge of the balcony, watching the fading sky, his expression unreadable.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
They won’t listen to me
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
Not Father. Not the council.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
They already gave me away.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
Like a ribbon for a sword.
Namjoon turned to face him. There was sorrow in his eyes—deep, old, and aching.
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
If I could take your place, I would.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
I know.
And he did know. Namjoon was the kind of alpha who bore every burden without complaint. Who loved too deeply and spoke too little of it. Taehyung had always admired that strength—and hated how much it cost him.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
Do you believe in the curse?
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
I believe
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
That pain shapes people.
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
And some pain runs deeper than magic.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
So I’m to marry a man shaped by pain.
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
So are most of us.
That silenced Taehyung. He looked away again, jaw tight.
Kim Taehyung (Omega)
You don’t know him
Kim Namjoon (Alpha)
Neither do you.
That night, as the palace fell into uneasy sleep, Taehyung lay awake in bed, staring at the moonlight that filtered through the sheer curtains. He touched the mark on his wrist—the one that hadn’t yet bloomed into the mating scar.
And far away, across the dead forests and fog-drenched hills, Jeon Jungkook stood in his training grounds, blood on his knuckles, sweat on his brow, breath steady. The night air wrapped around him like a second skin.
But something stirring. Something watching.
He looked up at the moon, eyes narrowing.
Jeon Jungkook (Alpha)
So he’s real.
And just for a second, he let himself wonder what the omega’s voice sounded like. What his scent was like. What it would feel like to be touched without fear.
Jeon Jungkook (Alpha)
He’ll be safe.
Jungkook told the shadows.
Jeon Jungkook (Alpha)
That’s all.
Love was still not allowed.
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