Chapter 3: Ash and Instinct

The fire crackled in the center of the war hall, casting long, flickering shadows across the ancient stone walls. Jungkook sat in the Alpha’s chair—more throne than seat—carved from obsidian and wolfbone. It loomed like judgment itself, every edge sharp, unforgiving.

Around him, his lieutenants argued.

“They were seen near the eastern border again,” Yoongi growled, leaning forward on the table. “Same pattern. Silent. Precise. Not our kind.”

Namjoon shook his head. “They don’t want war.”

“No,” Jin muttered, “but they don’t fear one either.”

Jungkook said nothing.

He could feel it again.

That scent—faint, haunting, like smoke over snow. It had followed him all night, lingering in his chambers, clinging to his skin no matter how many times he scrubbed it away.

“Alpha?”

Namjoon’s voice pulled him back. All eyes turned toward him.

“Give the border patrols double strength. No engagement unless provoked. If anyone senses anything... unnatural, they report to me directly.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Unnatural?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. “Something’s coming.”

Jimin, quiet until now, leaned forward. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked to him. “You feel it?”

Jimin nodded once. “Like the forest is watching.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Because what he felt wasn’t just the forest.

It was someone.

The hall emptied slowly.

Namjoon lingered last, offering a nod that said he understood more than he let on. Then silence fell, broken only by the whisper of the fire dying down to embers.

Jungkook remained seated, spine rigid, muscles aching from tension he couldn’t explain. He stared into the flames, watching them shift and dance in impossible patterns.

It felt like they were calling him.

Mocking him.

He rose.

And walked—past the library, through the old doors that led to the inner sanctum no one dared enter without his command.

His quarters were carved from dark stone and shadow. A place of rest that had never known peace. He stripped off his heavy coat and boots, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. The air was cold, but his body burned from within.

He lay back on the bed, eyes to the ceiling, heart pounding a slow, painful rhythm.

And then—

Darkness bled in at the corners of his vision.

Sleep claimed him violently, like a chokehold.

He was standing in a forest again.

But this time, the trees were wrong—twisted, reaching. Silver mist curled around his boots, warm and humming like breath.

And the scent—

That scent was everywhere.

It wasn’t subtle now.

It was overwhelming.

He turned slowly, his wolf snarling inside him, not out of fear, but out of need.

Then he saw him.

A figure in the distance, standing barefoot in the mist. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Hair wild and dark. Eyes—he couldn’t see the color, but he felt them watching.

Burning.

Claiming.

Jungkook took a step forward.

The figure didn’t move.

Another step. Then another.

Closer.

The scent was wrapping around him now, intoxicating. Jungkook's instincts twisted, snarling and desperate.

He should have attacked.

He should have demanded submission.

But instead... he dropped to one knee.

Not in weakness.

In surrender.

And the moment his knee hit the ground, the figure vanished.

Jungkook gasped awake, drenched in sweat.

The fire in his chambers had gone out.

But the scent—

It was still there.

Stronger than ever.

He stared into the dark, chest heaving, lips parting with the only word his instincts could whisper:

“…Enigma.”

Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, his breaths shallow, heart hammering like war drums. The room was cold, silent, untouched—but his skin still burned where his knee had touched the forest floor in the dream.

A dream.

He wanted to believe that’s all it was.

But he couldn’t lie to himself—not anymore.

That scent hadn’t just followed him into sleep. It had stayed.

It clung to his sheets. To his chest. Beneath his skin.

He growled low in his throat, pressing trembling fingers to the mark on his neck—the crescent-moon brand that throbbed under his touch.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

He didn’t want an answer.

He wanted distance.

He needed control.

But something inside him—something older than reason—was starving.

For him.

For the one he hadn’t yet met, hadn’t touched.

But who already ruled him.

Outside the stone walls of the fortress, miles away, the Enigma stirred.

Taehyung.

Eyes the color of dark violets cracked open beneath an ancient birch tree. His breath came out in fog as though he’d just been born.

His fingers curled into the frost-covered moss.

His entire body ached.

He had felt the Alpha.

For the first time.

And it wasn’t gentle.

It was violent. Unnatural. Beautiful.

He whispered the name he didn’t know he knew.

“…Jungkook.”

Back at the fortress, Jungkook paced his chamber, shirtless and tense, moonlight casting sharp shadows across his muscles. His claws itched to extend.

He didn’t understand it.

How one presence—one scent—could unmake everything he’d built inside himself.

Dominance.

Order.

Steel.

Now all he could think of was that mist, those eyes, that figure standing untouched in a dream he had no control over.

He caught his reflection in the mirror.

Not the Alpha they feared.

Just a man unraveling.

Marked by something he couldn’t fight.

____

To be continued