HOBI POV:

"Ah... hyung." I groan out, head falling forward, hips bucking into the touch, lifting up to push against the slow, deep circles of his body grinding against mine, his hand brushing down my spine and the flapping of wings before they settle, draped in a wide cocoon over us as he finally comes to still.

My body feels wrought with pleasure, wrung out of me and I sag bonelessly against the bed, crumpling onto the mattress, feeling his hand squeeze my hip, lips warm and pressing against my nape. A lingering kiss as he settles over me, arms winding to curve around me and draw me onto my side, my body still entangled and held by his, cradled and hissing in sensitivity when it makes his hips jostle where he's still buried deep.

"My sweet kit." He murmurs, voice low and smooth, a soft caress of breath curling around my throat, head hooking over my shoulder to press a peck to the now swollen gland; stimulated and pulsing out nutty caramel in thick rivulets for him. The soft touch makes my body jerk in his hold, hand whacking lightly where his lace together around me, his laughter warm and reverberating against my back.

"My sensitive cub." He amends, voice playful and tinged with a slight breathlessness

"My sensitive cub." He amends, voice playful and tinged with a slight breathlessness.

I tilt my head back, letting it fall against his shoulder, press a kiss to his jaw, lingering and nosing at skin, relishing in that scent of post-pleasure Jin. Something inherently him that underlay the vanilla, the tang of sweat as he curls closer.

"Feel better now?" I ask, his hand entangling with mine, curving over and resting against my stomach, his knuckles grazing gently.

He nods against my shoulder, pressing a kiss to it.

"Much. Thanks Hob-ah." He murmurs softly, quietly.

And when I tilt my head back it's to see a faint glossy sheen in his eyes, sniffling with a huff and ducking out of sight as he lowers his head to continue peppering kisses, my body twisting and his hips sliding out, a stuttered curse when I instinctively close my legs. Closing around nothing, trying to keep him close.

He gives me a shaky laugh as he slowly draws himself away, tugging on boxers as he slips out of the room quickly, wings rustling as he leaves.

Returns nearly just as quick and helps me to my feet.

"Let's get cleaned off first." Steadying me against him and huffing out amusedly at the slight wobble to my steps before he bends down to hoist me against him, cradling me against his chest, silent as he pads over to the bathroom, setting me down carefully on the rim of the tub.

But before he can slip away, my hands curl around his wrist, peering up at the slightly tearful expression, heart twisting and wrenching with concern and worry.

Pleasure tears were different.

These were sad tears, emotional tears and he blinks them back hastily as he looks at me.

"What's wrong hyung-ah?" thumbs sweeping slow circles on the inside of his wrist, coaxing him closer until I'm able to lean forward and brush a kiss across the low of his chest, nosing at skin and breathing him in.

"It's..." he begins tentatively.

My leg curls around his calf, coaxing him closer to me.

Peering up at him.

We'd shared years together, we'd shared endless tumbles in each other's sheets because it'd been so, so easy and natural to. Because there was friendship and trust and mutual attraction that had burned as a searing flame years ago. But now there was more deeper bonds.

There was the shared pack, he was my packmate, just as much as my own mates and the others were, he was someone I could and would court. He was someone who I could finally share that mate label with, long after we matured from that hazy pleasure-filled blur of uni together.

This was more.

This was everything we'd once had amplified and turned into something stronger and fiercer and protective too.

And right now hyung looks uncertain, torn between a tirade of emotions that tug at him, ensnare and confuse him.

"It's... did you not want me to..." I begin, already knowing the answer but needing him to sort through it, needing him to filter through his feelings bit by bit so he doesn't get overwhelmed by them, needed to draw him back from the confusion that was making him go from teasy and flushed with pleasure to emotional; which was fine and more than logical after that rush of endorphins and relief but it seemed like something was bothering him.

He shakes his head quickly, a frown marring his features.

"No! It's... you're perfect, you... you make me miss us. This. It just... feels so good but I feel so..." he begins, rambling.

I smile, tugging him closer until he's standing between my parted legs.

"Just feels a bit odd because Kookie's in rut and you're wrecking me in the sheets. Makes your mate-radar feel off." I surmise.

He nods, head ducking at the mention of his mate.

"Hyung-ah, when I say you've become so much more to me then when we first knew each other I mean it. You were tending to one packmate whilst Kookie and (Y/N) take care of each other. They're in good hands with each other. And it isn't a bad thing to worry still. Means you're a fierce protector for our bun."

Drawing myself up and tugging him closer for a hug, lips brushing against his ear.

"You're a good mate. A good hyung. And you've always been a good partner. I won't lie when I say it makes you that much more attractive hyung. Doting love is such a look on you." I praise, see that shakiness dissolve as he gives a small laugh, nodding.

"Every look is a good look on me." he insists, nose scrunching in a way that's endearingly reminiscent of Kookie. As if the two of them are so reflective of each other, so attuned and in sync that their mannerisms were unconsciously copied and adapted by each other.

"That it is. Know what'll be an even better look. A swan having a bath and letting me groom his wings." I say, leaning over to draw a bath, plugging up the tub and adding vanilla scented oil, light salts that wouldn't leave a scent trace behind.

I knew how much Jin hyung relied on products to keep his vanilla scent strong enough for Kookie, knew how it often dimmed and faded under the scent of his own natural pheromonal musk; he was barely detectable without the signature sweetness of vanilla.

He nods, following my tug and sinking into the large tub, sinking into the lightly scented waters, eyes beckoning. Slipping in behind him and drawing him back, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, thumb sweeping over the hard rim of his wing and laughing when it makes it flutter, water splashing me.

"You're ridiculously broad. And big." I complain good-naturedly, knuckles easing out knots from his spine, from around the base of his wings; knowing just how sore they could get, how much the weight of them made his spine stiff, especially during the colder seasons, feel his body shudder and go lax, relaxing further as he sinks more contentedly.

"I've never heard that being a complaint Hob-ah." He teases lightly.

"Is that why you're always preeny? Big, beautiful swan prince." I coo, pecking his nape, fangs nipping just to hear the slosh of water as he jostles at the touch before tilting his head back, resting against my shoulder, my hands banding across his stomach; poking playfully.

"Prince huh? With his prettier caramel kitten." He murmurs, voice going softer as he tilts my face to his, lips brushing against mine in a sweet, slow unhurried kiss. The warm plushness of his mouth coaxing mine open, tongue sweeping over my bottom lip before curling against mine. A soft exhale when my tongue curves around his, leaning in to cup my cheek, touch featherlight but grounding, mouth heady and enticing; the taste and feel of him so familiar yet new. I'd kissed these lips countless times, had pressed against them bruising and feverish, slow and soft, pecked before rushing off. And now... it's like puzzle pieces sliding home, mouth meeting his with an intimate comfortability and familiarity, nipping his tongue, fangs sinking into his bottom lip and tugging; knowing it'd make him groan. Swallowing down the sound as I lean forward, chasing it.

"Why don't we finally give us a name? Will you be mine hyung? Be my pretty swan mate?" I breathe, murmuring against his lips, feel his hand curl around my nape to draw me closer.

The scent of vanilla blooms in the heat of the water, in the mould of our bodies pressed close, sinks into skin and encompasses us in the scent that defines Jin hyung, defines our sweet swan eldest.

My eyes take him in, water gleaming at the hollow of his throat, streaming off his shoulders and onyx black feathers.

Hyung's always had a beauty that rendered someone breathless, stole words from their mouth just by eye-contact and that ridiculous smile from invitingly full pink lips. And right now... cheeks flushed and eyes burning with happiness, he renders my instincts and biology unable to do anything but keen; needy and whimpery and longing. Longing to give a label to something that had so easily and naturally veered beyond friends, beyond the names we'd cried out countless times into sheets, skin and each other's mouths.

He was beyond a friend, beyond just a packmate.

Jin hyung was my swan prince and I couldn't wait till he bore the fang indents at his throat.

"I feel like I have been... ever since we found each other again. Till the water changed current and brought back your swan. Yes... yes I'll be your mate, just as much as you'll be mine." He murmurs, voice soft and low and grazing skin gently, my lips curving wide, fangs pricking my bottom lip.

Laugh as I surge forward and tilt his face to mine, breathlessly pecking his lips over and over, lips lingering longer with every peck, cupping his face, other hand carding through his hair, grazing across his feathers.

"Although as the one who took you to bed—you should've at least let me ask. Swan courtesy and all." He murmurs before sinking his teeth into my lip and silencing any rebuttal.

"Should've let me proposition that with an out of rut bun. But you couldn't wait..."

I grin against his nape, fangs nipping and sinking in slightly.

A promise to mark permanently one day.

"What can I say—I'm not the best at being patient."

--------

"Remember—no crossing over to the other end of the apartment stripey cub." I remind, booping his nose and watching him grin, fangs peeking as he suddenly tilts forward, grazing them across the inside of my wrist.

"I know... I know... even if I want to I can't." petulant and sighing, tilting in for a quick peck that turns lingering and longer, lips soft and warm and needy, chasing after my mouth and groaning against my lips in askance. In silent plea for more, a deep content rumble when I part my lips at the brush of his tongue, the scent of berries seeping out now that the scentblockers have been religiously wiped off and the glands on his throat re-scented and claimed with my own pheromones.

I know he'll barely make it into the living room or the vicinity of our panther mate and pawed or tugged at until he's leant close enough for the citrus scent to join; for our scents to entangle and merge so naturally as they always have. To re-scent and claim our youngest cub mate, to reclaim; the protective possessiveness had only spiked since not one but both preys of the pack had gone into their rut and heat. It had made it flare and bloom, had heightened senses and made them so consciously aware of every packmate, of each other, of the pack dynamics. With both preys tucked away, lost in each other, trusting and safe within each other... it had ignited a restlessness in the others, and more often than not, Yoongi hyung had come to bed after his shows in panther form. Had clambered onto the mattress and settled over both of us, belly warm and draped over our torsos, head resting on folded paws, sleep always so light; stirring with our movements and scenting thoroughly before letting either of us move.

And I knew that despite the suppressants; Joon was dealing with an antsy, restless fox mate, fresh marks colouring both their throats and the ever strong strength of their pheromones clinging to each other and seeping out to cocoon all of us when they scented. Knew that just as much as his mate; a restless need simmered under his own skin because of his deeply rooted protective instincts towards Kookie. Still remembered how tentative he'd been when we'd first met, how he'd tiptoed because he was scared his unconsciously projected wolf instincts would scare off the then timid bunny. But it'd just drawn out an equally playful and energetic response; Kookie may be prey but he was happy to tussle and tackle and goad and draw out all those predator hunting instincts; relished in it. And I knew I wasn't the only one who watched him flit and zoom around with boundless energy with that ever constant itch to chase after him, to hear the pealing giggles breathless and exuberant whilst pressed against his back. Knew I wasn't the only one whose eyes lingered on flushed cheeks, perked ears and shining eyes aglow with happiness.

"Good mate. Just hang on a few more days. Then you can drape and flop and scent to your heart's content." I soothe.

He nudges his nose against my cheek, presses a soft kiss there.

"Can't wait. Can't wait to burrow my nose against their glands and just—" he rumbles.

I grin.

Unsurprised that he wanted to chase their intertwined merged scents and inhale. The scent of cotton anise to settle deep in his lungs.

"Calm down my little menace. Behave for hyung—don't make him chase you around." I warn, tugging his scarf tighter around him, his cheeks already pinkening with the cold, rubbing his hands between my own before tucking them away.

"Get home safe kit."

His tail curls and swishes, cutting through the air as he nods, waving at me before stepping away from the main entrance of the centre, happily crunching frost under his feet, leaving with a curl of his stripey tail.

Watch him leave before turning back to head in, to navigate the hallways down to Ji Ah's room. She'd been much more receptive to me ever since Min-Jun had been reunited with her; mistrust thawing and warmth blooming. And I nod towards the officers that step aside; recognising them from their frequent patrols and shifts; humans because we knew the ones in charge were hybrids, because Ji Ah had thrashed and balked from the foreign scents that had slipped into her room, curling away from the unfamiliarity.

The tall dog hybrid, Yugyeom, steps towards me when he sees me, a quick thump of his tail that's endearingly reminiscent of Joon's own giddy thumps; always clumsily knocking int something. Even the slight possessive anger that had flared at his own thorough scenting has dimmed, has relented because she's my courting mate. She's mine to claim in a way entirely different to the bond they share. And seeing him bound over, ears perking has a smile tugging at my lips.

"Hoseok hyung... no fawn today too?" peering behind me as if to catch a glimpse of her, shrinking back with a slight droop to the tips of his ears.

"Afraid she's scheduled off leave until she's settled into post-heat." I say, fingers rubbing over the back of his ear, smoothening out the small wilt.

"Is she okay though? She doesn't have a rough time does she? She's not hurting or in need of anything? I know the hyungs' have got a basket of stuff always prepared for her that I can—" he rambles slightly frettingly. Falling silent when my hand gently clucks him under the chin.

"She's fine. Jin hyung and Yoongi hyung have stocked more than baskets now with all their fussiness." I soothe, lips tugged up at the thought.

Remembering how meticulously I'd found Yoongi hyung sorting the medical cabinet, grown into one from the small box we'd started off with, carefully labelled pills and salves and medications. Tail swishing and curling silently and ears perked with focus and determination, doe-specialised medication at the front, right beside massage oils.

How immersed in the task he'd been that he'd physically balked and jerked with a hiss at the slightest teasing touch to his tail, curling tight around Tae's fingers and head twisting back. Posture loosening and giving a small flick to his thigh, a warning swat before he'd turned back, kneeling in front of the cabinet and sorting it out thoroughly, empty bags and receipts lying beside him.

"Ah! The courting kits~ well I'm glad you're all invested in her health. She's not the best with dealing with her small insomnia bouts." He confides with a sad twist of his lips.

My heart lurches at that, knowing that it was her sleepless nights that had brought her to Yoongi hyung. That had brought her to his show and had brought their minds together long before they'd met.

It makes me mentally store it away, filing it away to make sure if I ever saw her suffer or struggle to sleep I'd be able to do something—anything to help.

Knowing that hyung's voice had helped a lot.

Had eased her into sleep.

Wondered if there was something behind it.

"Does something trigger the insomnia to return?" I ask, eyes flicking over the sight of Ji Ah peering out the window, Min Jun happily tucked on her lap, a chubby cheek squished against her slightly bony shoulder, rubbing with content at her throat and small happy growls and giggled words as he points out the children outside.

She looks settled.

Calmer.

Nods along, eyes pooled with fondness.

Drawn out the sight by Yugyeom's small, stifled whine.

"Overthinking. Nightmares. She gets them a lot when she works hard cases with children. Stress. She always feels this weighted sense of responsibility—that she has to make every single child in her path better."

I frown.

"But she can't. Logically—she can't help everyone." I begin.

He shrugs.

"That's never stopped her from trying has it. The centre's protégé caregiver." Voice carrying a weighted heaviness.

As if caring for others, protecting and helping so many hybrids and excelling at it came at a price. A burden that made her sleepless with the worry and gnawing anxiousness that there were just some children she couldn't help. And remained awake with the burden of that unfounded guilt.

"We'll... I'll help her if she reaches that again. I promise pup... now why don't you get going? I know a mate or two is coming to pick you up." I tease lightly, watching him step away reassured and tail wagging quickly as he nods.

"Get home safe pup." I call.

Letting the door shut before making my way to the two at the large windowsill, sinking down in a crouch beside the two, see fluffy brown ears perk as Min-Jun senses the movement and turns to me.

Light eyes blinking happily before reaching a hand out to pet eagerly at the twirly tips of my ears, giggling.

"Twirly hyung! Where's fawn noona?" peering expectantly for her, searching the room with a more unguarded brightness and giddiness than Ji Ah's careful sweep of each corner.

It's always painful to see and be reminded that her look is far too guarded and shielded and defensive than any child should have to be. That experience and trauma and suffering has brough the ever-present flicker of phantoms in her eyes.

"She's resting..." I say soothingly, hand carefully brushing away the loose strands of Ji Ah's hair away, smiling when she stares; eyes holding mine before tilting ever so slightly into it, nose brushing against my palm

"Noona tired? Nap nest?" he asks eagerly, eyes shining at the thought.

The image of (Y/N) curled up in a nest, soothed and settled rears a fierce longing in my chest, physically aching with the want to see her like that, to be curled around her and holding her; breathing in her soft anise.

Logically I know she's at home, she's with Kookie but I can't help but still miss her, miss Kookie as if the two have vanished from sight but remained in mind— the thought of them lingering constantly.

"Yes! Fawn noona is nesting and resting."

He wriggles happily on Ji Ah's lap, thrilled and stretches his arms out for me, curling on happily and peering at me when I scoop him up.

"I wanna nest too! Nest nap!" he insists cheerfully, peering back at the young meerkat who watches carefully, smiles as she holds out her teddy as the first offering to the nest

Lips parting in a noiseless laugh when he takes it happily and rubs his cheeks across it, trying to scent it before rubbing the teddy's paws over my throat to try catch some scent.

So immersed in the importance of the task, wriggling to be let down, tugging at pillows and constantly flitting around his noona in their larger shared room. Drawing it down to throw haphazardly onto the floor; gathering nesting materials.

"Noona help! Noona says scent-ing helps." He insists as he holds the pillow out to her.

Watch as she silently takes it.

Watch as their nest eventually begins to take shape and form around them, their scents bubbling out and mingling together.

And as I watch Min-Jun's words run through my head.

Noona says.... Noona says.

But Ji Ah was mute wasn't she? She couldn't speak.

But as I see her silently mirror his own enthusiasm, mouthing back to him— the realisation shifts. Changes.

She couldn't speak... or wouldn't speak? Because the price was too heavy? Too high? And too burdensome for her small shoulders to bear.

Couldn't speak or wouldn't.

Wasn't willing to risk it.

And as I watched them eventually fall asleep, Min Jun plastered across her and holding just as tightly as she was at him... wondered whether Min Jun, as a reason to protect, would mean she'd uphold that silence or shatter it.

————

"Hob-ah I need to ask for a favour." Namjoon says by way of greeting when I finally step out the room, my brows scrunching at the low hum of restlessness in his voice, in the authority steeping it.

"Name it." Phone pressed to my ear, eyes flickering over the guards and relaxing when I recognise them all.

Moving past the room and watching them slip into position to guard the entrance alert and defending. Protecting.

"There's been a new hybrid brought to the centre two days ago. Can you see if they're okay? They're in the immediate care unit and undergoing treatment. We can't take any testimony until they're able to give one." He says, voice a low hum.

My insides twist with nausea and anger, feel revulsion inch up my throat even as I turn down a more secluded hallway— walk past nurses and rooms shut for privacy as well as medical reason, this clinging, sticking sense of death and fear. This weighted fear and awareness that not everyone in these rooms survive.

"What room?"

"The one at the centre down the second corridor. There's a plain clothes officer seated outside and playing the role of their immediate contact. She's got a flower brooch pinned to her left side."

My eyes fall onto the sight of a woman, hair peppered with strands of silver sitting outside, a book clutched between her hands and a pinch between her brows. Scan for the brooch before moving closer.

How much of the restlessness as she flicks her eyes to the window is concern and how much is her attentively keeping guard I can't figure.

See the snap of something sharp and careful in her eyes before returning to a guarded neutrality.

"Can I help you?"

I lean forward, hear Joon's voice pressed to my ear.

"I'm here to check on the hybrid for a moment Officer... Shin."

See her eyes shift, a careful examination before she nods.

Her identity must be thoroughly covered and hidden from the others, so knowing her name means I know the officer who sent her.

Despite Joon's warnings about the man's condition, it's still heavily nauseating to see the hybrid. Hear the cries of agony and rage, hissed curses as he eyes the burns across his torso, fangs sharp and defensively poised when he spots me. Forked tongue brushing against his lips as he scents the air; tries to catch my scent amidst the chemical smell.

"We wear scent blockers... scents can be quite impressionable." I say softly.

Watch as his eyes narrow even if he shrinks back, sinking against the pillows.

Snake hybrids don't secrete their own scents, and surrounded by the clinical smell of medicine and fluids, he seems lost. The beeping of his heart monitor accelerates at me taking a single step forward. Still too wary with my approach even if he doesn't balk at my presence.

Sceptical and wary.

"Don't." He snaps out in warning, voice rough and trembling and seething with rage. Directed at whoever's made him this way. I still, keeping eye contact as I take two steps back, increasing the distance between me and the bed.

"Is he coherent?" Namjoon asks, voice surprised.

I hum.

"Do you know where you are?" I ask.

He eyes the room, the tubes attached to him, the angry harsh burns that make the otherwise hidden scales a fierce red.

"Away from the hell I'd been in. Away from that vindictive, inhumane bitch." He hisses.

"Coherent and aware." I say, hear Joon's murmur before he disconnects the call.

Leaving me staring helplessly at the sight, see bandaged hands brush a careful hand over his chest, testing and tentative, my body jerking forward at the groaned guttural scream of pain that's torn from his throat, his eyes clenching shut; agonised tears seeping out. See his figure crumple and sag.

His body balks and thrashes from my touch, twisting on the bed and breathing ragged, chest heaving as narrowed slits focus on the burn. Shuddering at the pain rippling and tearing through his body as I press the assistance button.

Much worse than he'd thought I realise.

Coherent and aware. And writhing in pain.

Sobbing from it and what's been done to him.

And for a moment wish that he was sedated and numbed to the pain. So he could at least move without pain.

And wonder just how deep this hell runs that all the missing hybrids are stuck in.

"I just want this nightmare to be over. Make it stop." He thrashes even as a nurse rushes in, darting around to adjust the medications the tubes drip steadily into him, face tightening at his groans and pleas as she applies a numbing salve to the angry burns. Trying to subdue the pain somehow.

See how despite it, his chest rises and falls with rapid breath, how his face is still pinched with agony, skin holding a chalky pallor.

And when Namjoon steps through a while later, I find myself gripping his arm to draw myself behind, flinching at the pure animosity and fear rolling off him; the sharp tang of sweat and the barest pheromones that project his distress. Make my instincts balk and try get away from it.

"Help him Namjoon-ah. And get the people that made him this way."

His resounding growl is a vow.

A promise.

But the image of the tortured, injured serpent remains in mind even as I slip away.

Ears ringing with his cry.

(Y/N) POV:

My head swims with the scent of cotton, body buckling and shuddering under the pinning grip of large hands pushing my back down, hips arching in a deeper present as he thrusts deep and hard into me, body throbbing and legs falling wide for him, scrabbling for purchase as I sob out pleas.

"More... fill me up Koo." Fingers uselessly scrabbling on the sheets for purchase, the pounding thud of my heartbeat echoing in my ears, falling deaf for anything save for the shuddering pants of breath from behind me, from the low grunt as his hips slam forward, pushing my own body against the sheets at the motion, the rough slam making my arms buckle, cries muffled against pillows, eyes stinging with the tautness that strings my body up, pressure and pleasure mounting higher and higher, breath shuddering out shakily as I let my head fall forward; baring my nape to him.

He groans, fingers tightening as he continues to thrust, deep circles into me as his hips slam forward against my own, one hand slipping away to curl between my legs, snake around my front and push me to the edge so much quicker, sweeping circles his thumb presses against me until I'm bucking forward with a cry tearing past my lips and eyes clenching shut as waves of pleasure wash over my body; reaching the peak of the cresting ecstasy and body arching under his touch as I go taut. Shudder at the pleasure that washes over my body, mind hazy and drowning in that need for him, in that hunger for him to continue, to breed, to mark, to take until my body has nothing left to give.

And when my body slumps, limbs feeling like putty, he moulds and shapes it to the brand of his own pressing down on me, hand continuing to push my back down, breathing sharp and the low groan of my name making that pleasure that's barely abated to bloom into another wave. Slowly bubbling and rising with the overpowering scent of us clinging to every pore and fibre, settling into every nook of the room and his hand curling and brushing up to trail fingers across the marks colouring my stomach; pads of pressure from his fingertips that spark a dull throb; head full of flashes and blurs of teeth and tongue nipping and marking skin, sucking in marks over my stomach as I lay, head fallen back and legs locked around his shoulders; twisting at the sensual promise of filling me up, of making my stomach swell with him, with his release.

"Look so pretty.... Take so well. Made for me, for this. Your smell—I want to drown in your scent." He mumbles, lips brushing against my nape as his body folds over mine, drapes over, the weight of his body pushing mine flat against the sheets, pressed against the bed as he rolls his hips slow.

Stoking that fire into a restless pit of aching embers, flaring and scorching my body from the inside out, molten want seeping out and body pushing and twisting from where he pins me, arms wound around me tightly and body still thrusting; low murmurs brushing against the shell of my ear, the light trail of his ears ticklish and making me squirm under him.

Try to push up, legs shifted wide and splayed for him, fingers trembling as I clutch at his wrists.

Feel his hold tighten at my movements, hips pushing down, legs anchoring mine from twisting away as he continues to yank out a slew of sounds from trembling, slick lips, throat bobbing as the pleasure swells hotter and fiercer and stronger, a building wave that threatens to drown and consume in the feeling... in the sensation of it. Every limb feels alight and every nerve cell sensitive and hyperconscious of the heat of his skin melding to mine, of the muscled strength of his body stilling the buck of my hips as I try to grind back, try to meet the deep thrusts by rolling my hips back, trying to lever myself up only to for his hands around me to tighten; weight boring down with every buck of his hips, pinned to the rucked sheets to lie and take it. Take him deep, take him helplessly as he wrung out pleasured whimpers from my throat; biology keening for his, keening for the need to submit and be good, to take what he had to give.

"My prey. Mine to take, mine.... Mine." He mutters over and over, voice guttural and rough, the strands of sweat slick hair brushing against my shoulder, stomach going taut against my back, the line of heat his body shuddering and pressing tightly when he groans out my name.

Teeth sinking into the curve of my shoulder, fiercer, sharper movements that send me closer and closer to the brink, hand curling up to toy and tease at my heaving chest, burrowed under his body, caged in as he sends us reeling to a deep abyss of pleasure and release, mind hazy with cotton, floaty under the constant flux of his pheromones; rich and heavy with breeding intent intertwine with my own biological need to be round and full, to be swollen with children. To be taken and mated and protected as well as to be good for him. To be the one to push him into that insatiable need, to coax out pleasure and satisfaction and satiate every primal need, every carnal want.

"Yours... yours. I'll be good for you, be a good prey. Submit good." I ramble, the cotton fog growing thicker and headier, drowning out my anise; consuming it as he takes and takes, and relentlessly gives. Gives until my body writhes and thrashes with pleasure under him, jolting and trembling under his pinned hold as he mutters praise against my ear; breath hot and feverish as it curls and scrapes against skin.

"Will you submit again and again? Give even when you've got nothing left?" he asks, voice a rough rasp against skin, deliciously low, body going limp and loose as I submit to it, to the dominance laced through it, curling through the softened tenderness when he brushes his nose against my gland, a light caress before his mouth closes around it.

A harsh suck and scrape of his teeth that has my eyes clenching shut, bracing against the sting of tears against them, not sure whether to sob for more or sob for it to stop.

Head nodding in a rough jerk, face twisting, cheek pressed against the pillow and lips wet with slick as I nod, shudder as another wave of pleasure slams in; triggered and coaxed out by the constant movement of his hips. Slow, deep drags against me that constantly stoke that restlessness, soothe it by the grounding weight of him.

"I'll submit... submit for you... give you it all...give you everything---" I vow, voice breathless, breaking off into a keening sob at the rough slam of his hips driving deep, nestling against me, in me, hot-white pleasure searing through every limb, tears spilling out from under fluttering eyelids, vision blanking,, turning white, every sense narrowing to the feeling of his hands going loose, unravelling to clamp around my hips instead; to still the arch of my body as his own comes to still, a rough cry brushing against my spine, lips brushing over the centre of my shoulders, ears grazing skin.

"Everything. Everything..." he mutters back.

Everything.

Everything.

I sag against the bed, that frantic need soothed and settled. Satiated with the pleasure that makes my body limp and pliant under his, manoeuvred to my side with him still joined to me, his arms curling looser around me, slow sweeps of his lips across the curve of my shoulder, nosing at skin.

Tilt my head to the side to encourage silently for him to lather his scent over me, hear the rough exhale of breath, the tremble of lips and the slow sweep of tongue against my gland; swallowing my scent, inhaling it deep.

"Smell bred." He mumbles sluggishly against my skin, delirious and blissed out and satiated. Voice slipping towards coherency. Slipping out of that rut tone— steeped with dominance and need and feverish want. Hazy and soft.

"Bred full with your buns." I echo, a small whimper at how it makes his hips jerk against mine, groan reverberating against my skin.

Hands skimming and dancing over skin, tugging and drawing me back so not an inch of space exists between us, bodies slotting together, moulding to each other. Scents and touches branded on one another.

Head feeling as if stuffed by cotton, swamped with his scent, eyes fluttering with the gentle brush, soothing and grounding, of his fingers trailing up my wrist to my shoulder, brushing and carding through hair and nails scratching lightly at the base of my ears. Flickering and folding into the touch, encouraging the light touches.

"So perfect. How'd I get so lucky with you?" Kookie's voice soft and almost inaudible, murmured into my hair as he tucks his head over mine, dragging his chin lightly across my crown, burying his nose deep and sighing.

How did I get so lucky?

Someone I trusted, someone I intrinsically felt safe with, someone my biology submitted to and felt cocooned by.

How did I get so lucky to have Kookie— whose own body and needs and instincts thrived with my own. Whose body provided without fail, without fatigue, without anything less than the fierce intensity and hunger that simmered and bloomed to life countless times under his touch. Welled yo for the thick layer of cotton that overtook my lungs. Branded his scent into them, into every inch of skin.

"I'm lucky. Perfect bun. Perfect Koo." I mutter dazedly, eyes struggling to focus, words slurring as they push past my lips, whispered to the pillows that bear and hold the not-so-secret secret just as it'd held and contained, swallowed all my cries, tears of pleasured ecstasy and had been clutched at tightly.

It's the haze of cotton that my eyes flutter because of, body curling and pressing back against his, turning to tuck myself against his throat when his hips draw away, hips jerking when his fingers brush against the centre of my thighs.

"Got to keep you plugged up somehow." Voice rough but wanting.

Pained.

And he shudders with relief and pride when in the haze my lips part to respond to that equally fervent want.

"Why don't you? SJ did. Bottom drawer." An indescribable weight tugging at my eyes, drawing my lids down heavier, hand resting against his chest.

Keening with dissatisfaction when he twists away, even if his hand remains a firm grip on my hip. Feel his hand slip down to draw my thigh open, the brush of something at my centre, pushing in deep, an easy glide but the fullness making my body close around it instinctively. Shutting my thighs around the intrusion that my body so easily welcomes and accepts regardless even as my head falls forward to rest against his shoulder, fingers scrabbling for purchase and gripping at his shoulder; breathing shallow as he pushes deep, hand falling away and settling on the low of my back.

"All full now." Murmured quietly, leg slotting between mine, his other throw over mine in an anchored entangled embrace. Holding me as my breathing evens and goes settled, nose breathing in the musky tone to his cotton, eyes fluttering shut at the deep sense of contentment and protection that cocoons me.

Fall asleep entangled with Kookie.

And the feverish heat under our skins settled. Soothed for a longer time now.

Fall asleep with exhaustion tugging at us, beckoning us to the lure of dreamless rest. A darkness that holds and cocoons.

And feels like the flutter of wings gently caressing and protecting.

Tending and nursing.

————

The heat under my skin is a dull throb now, low simmering flames that don't catch strength to burn hotter or fiercer. It's a heat that curls low in my gut, warmth that pools low in my stomach and a heat that grazes against the dimmed feverish heat of the body splayed out under me. Hands gripping my waist, loose and eyes hazy with pleasure, flickering with a blissful pliancy that slowly drawn out release brings.

Head fallen across pillows, hair that's dried against it, loose sprawled waves and dropped ears that wriggle with his own teasing buck against me. Trying to draw me closer to him.

Trying to draw me where he wants me.

My fingers brush across his collarbones, admiring the dark red blooming across the soft muscled canvas of his body, track the trail of colour down and across his torso, head leaning forward, hair brushing and tickling at skin as my mouth closes around a pebbled nipple, teeth scraping at the bud just to feel his soft curse and the instinctive jerk of his body; tongue flicking over it. Laving it with attention, fingers brushing over the other, relishing in the keening whimpered groan for more.

"You took care of me so well... bred me so well. Can't I take care of you?" I ask, heat pooling across every nerve at his lidded eyes, nodding breathlessly, my hand brushing down his abdomen, feeling his stomach spasm and clench under my touch; go taut as my other hand grips him. Curl a hand around and tug, feel the jerk of his body as he pants, rocking into the touch, fist sliding up and down, drawing out a stuttered moan as his eyes flutter, his legs jolting against the bed where I straddle his thighs. Feel the muscles tense under me as he draws a hand over my own, larger, longer fingers; inked and slender guiding my movements; speeding the maddening slow pace until his scent's richly pouring off him. Heady and cloying. Clinging to the roof of my mouth, to my tongue, scent thick enough to taste on the air.

"If I put my mouth on you— I'd get your scent all over me, over my tongue and lips. If I kissed anyone— they'd know, they'd taste you on me." I breathe out, his hand clamping tightly on my hip; bruising and warning, pupils dilating.

"If I— if I... what if Namjoon could smell you on me? What would he say? That you bred my mouth full?" I ask, thighs parting, slowly rocking over the firm taut muscle, letting his hand guide the movement now. Feel the embers flicker into flames, feel them curl higher, inch upwards, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

Under me, Kookie groans. A deep sinful sound that spills past parted lips, nodding quickly, the flush on his cheeks building. Deepening.

"It'd show him— that I'm able to breed just as well... but for him I'd submit. I'd let his scent take me." He says breathily, throat bobbing as he swallows, back arching and hips jerking forward before he stills. Spilling over and staining both our fingers and palms with his release.

"Bun wants to be bred too." I say, groaning when his hand draws my hip forward in a sharp grind. Lips stretching triumphantly at the pleasure it shoots through my body, air punched out my lungs at the sudden buck of his thigh, forcing me to grind against it.

"As if you don't want Jiminie hyung to bend you over and take you out of heat." He refutes with a raspy groan, hand falling away to grip the other side of my hips, tugging me forward until our hips are flush. Feel him jerk at the touch.

My vision's burnt with images his words trigger, teeth sinking down into my bottom lip, sparks licking up my spine at the thought of drowning in mint and submitting to the pure predator pheromones, to be claimed and taken by them.

"Koo stop." I groan, hand steadying myself on his torso, touch smearing his own pleasure over his skin as I brace myself against him, rock against his hardening arousal.

Hear the grin in his voice even as my eyes drink in toned, muscled limbs, see the broad muscle of his arm curl around my waist.

"Or— you'll be pushed into another cycle?" He teases, hips bucking and grinding against my own, need blooming at the touch until I have to draw myself back.

Still him before raising my hips, angling over him before sinking down.

Cry out at the stretch, at the fullness, at the depth as I guide myself down, seated fully.

Fed my head buzz from it. His scent, his touch... him coaxing my body to speed up towards another pulsing wave of heat, warmth flaring into an inferno.

Feel urgency slowly begin to prickle and want begin to pool low in my gut; heady and heavy. Rocking my hips in slow deep circles and feel his body buck and jerk in response.

A wanton sound slips past my lips at the feeling is his hand curling round to rest low on my back, coaxing and pushing me forward against him, a rough drag of his hips against mine, my hands going to rest on his chest as I begin to raise myself up, lowering down with a suddenness that has us both crying out.

But soon enough moving myself up and down on him isn't enough, pace quickening and body shaking at the depth of him, hands sprawled across his torso as I rock my hips up and down, legs trembling with the jolts of pleasure every move brings, pace quickening as I try to take more. Try to satiate that heavy weighted need that's come to settle, ears ringing with the instinctual need to to be bred; the word echoing in my head.

Soon enough the push of my body against his, breathing turning ragged as I steady myself against him isn't enough, blinking at his flushed face— eyes a mixture of heated want and impatience, hand gripping my hip.

"Koo I—" I begin. Voice coming out thin and shaky and it makes the look in his eyes snap. Hands curling around my hip to tighten his hold and still me in place on him before he bucks his hips up. A sharp snap that tears a cry out, hips propelling deeply into me, hands pinning me to his body, unable to move against him, to do anything but take the sharp thrusts of his hips upwards into me, body jolting from the force.

"Need me to do the work? Don't worry little fawn... you just sit there prettily on me and take it." He croons, words a wet shudder, the column of his neck invitingly poised. But all I can do is scrabble for purchase on his torso, nails digging and pressing in, fingers slipping and trying to rock myself back only for my body to be pushed forward by the quick deep snap of his hips, a punishing quick pace that silences the ringing in my ears with satisfaction, lips parted in a silent cry as he keeps me from bucking or twisting or moving.

Making me sit there and take what he has to give, eyes gleaming with primal satisfaction as I'm rocked forward, hands clutching his shoulders, body bent over his and pleasure cracklings; hot-white strikes of it making my body burn with the force and intensity of it. Feel his body surge up, mouth ducking to close around my breast, feverish and messily; tongue curling and brushing against me, teeth scraping and tugging out a groan, fingers tightening and clutching at the muscle of his shoulders; trying to anchor myself, keep myself from being washed away and into the ever growing pit of pleasure that my body is reeled towards.

Feel my back arch, pushing forward towards his touch, to the feverish trail his lips and teeth begin to mark, sinking into the soft curve with a groan that reverberates and sinks bone deep, body pushing forwards towards him, bodies nearly flush together.

And as his hips thrust upwards, my hands clutch tighter, body falling forward, pressed flush against him, feel his lips trail across my shoulder, to my throat, to my jaw. A skimming tease of teeth and tongue and lips, shallow breaths muffled against his shoulders.

Gripping tightly at him as my body is jolted, bonelessly crumpling on top of him.

"Your scent—all milky... " he shudders against my ear, hands tightening as he continues to buck into me, deep slams that have the air pushed out my lungs, lips shuddering and mouthing wetly at his skin, wanting the taste of him on my tongue; the rich mixture of cotton, salt and musk.

"Would have to keep you all full. Would keep you round. All swollen and full with milk. So soft." He promises.

His words coaxing and triggering a fresh keening cry for him, mind buzzing and delirious with the thought, with being soft and round and swollen with his buns, with his body caging mine, cradling mine.

It makes a fresh wave of pleasure slam into me, back arching and blinking dazedly at him, at the fever that makes his skin gleam with a sheen of sweat, beading at his temples, at the column of his throat, body branding itself to mine, chasing to close the distance.

"Mate me. Mate me. Yours." I shudder out.

And he doesn't have the same instinct, the same branding urge to sink teeth in but when his teeth close around the curve of my shoulder as he bites down, my body convulses and trembles, pleasure exploding across every fibre, pulsing heavily, legs jittering with the overwhelming sensation. Mind going blank and foggy, hands curling around his nape and sinking into loose strands, tugging at them to keep him close, keep his mouth sealed over skin, ears drooping and folding at the haze of submission and pliancy that overtakes.

That makes me clutch at him, limp and breathing ragged, feel him jerk a few times before his body sags against the mattress, keeping me gathered to him, hand curling around my own nape; broad palm splayed across it, keeping me tucked against him, other hand rubbing a hand down my spine before settling on the low of my back.

"Mine. Mine." He echoes.

A promise between us, pressed to each other by skin, held on by our hands winding around each other.

Mine.

And he's someone I don't want to let go of, even as our bodies bask in that glow of being together, of having our needs met and instincts satiated. Body throbbing with pleasure and slowly coming down from its inexplicable high.

The bubbling heat cooling, quietening much more easily and readily.

Replaced with the want to just sink closer to him, to feel the press of an equally satiated body against mine, to feel the rapid thrum of his heart under my hand, under my own chest; merging and chasing the accelerated beat of my own.

Wonder silently, breaths shallow against his skin, how much of the rapid heartbeat is just for him. For Jungkook. And not the rut that synced entirely too perfectly to my heat.

JIMIN POV:

Joon returns to the station with Hobi hyung in tow, his jaw clenched tightly and arm banding protectively around our caracal packmate. Eyes gleaming with a predatory edge and sharpness that Joon hyung actively tries to reign back, tries to keep shuttered away. Tries to stop from indulging in, from letting growl and snap unrestrained.

Feel the bristles caged and pressed to Hobi hyung's back as he gathers up files, draws them away and presses a button on the office telephone, murmuring into it.

The door opens a few minutes later and another officer enters, head ducking in greeting before meeting Joon's eyes.

"Yes Officer Kim?"

"Get Min Da to have the undercover officers report back to me in person in a week. I need to change assignments and get them out. Get Officer Park and Im to search the last seen locations for the missing hybrids and I want their medical records and physical examinations drawn up." he raps out, hand still curled around Hobi hyung's hip; a fierce branding grip on him and Hobi hyung's own eyes flicker around the office, a tightness his shoulders and a pained agony raw in his eyes.

The officer's eyes flick to the hand, take in Joon's bristling energy; raw and unbridled and the way his scent pools out; rich earthy musk that commands every particle of air and crowds against the space of his private office.

It takes everything in him and consistent training that the officer doesn't balk or shift away from the pheromones pouring out, eyes levelly meeting his.

Only the best trained, carefully vetted and examined officers had made it into the team of officers working the trafficker case.

"Anything else sir?"

"I want the officers on the barn raids to undergo physical training and prepare for every situation; after hours team simulations to prepare. We don't know what it is we're walking into, we have to be prepared for everything."

I nod, mentally taking note of overseeing some of the sessions, making sure the team that would be heading in with me was trained and ready.

We knew the barns had some sort of connection to the case, we knew there were only four possibilities; four teams striking simultaneously at the locations.

If even one turned out what we thought, then it was a noose tightening around one branch of the trafficking rings. Knew that this was just one of many sources to find and seal.

"I want Officers Park and Im training their own groups ready for closing in on them." I add, nudging Joon's stiff posture away from the desk and gently squeezing Hobi hyung's shoulder.

The officer nods.

"Any news from the male serpent?" he asks and both of them flinch.

Namjoon and Hobi hyung; a visceral flinch at the mention, faces shuttering at the mention of the serpent being tended to at the hybrid centre. And Hobi hyung; sweet, optimistic caracal, his ears droop, wilting at the mention and his sticky sweet scent of nutty caramel turns burnt, a sharp edge to the scent that makes me recoil slightly.

"Currently sedated and being treated for second degree burns."

Sedated and burnt.

Undoubtedly volatile and keyed up on the defensive instinct to strike and lash out anyone approaching him. His scales, I realise with a lurch of my stomach, must've been damaged, must've been burnt through.

Sedated because he couldn't bear to have anyone near him.

It was horrifically ironic that traffickers were the real beasts, the real animals capturing and violating hybrids with this disgustingly misinformed sense of right and entitlement to their lives to ruin as they wished.

As if their lives, their families, their pain meant nothing because of the animal biology that ran through their veins.

It made my instincts go feral, snapping and thrashing and aching to sink fangs into one of the trafficker's jugular to tear their throat open, to attack and annihilate the threat directly, to get rid of it and leave their remains as an example. The primal part of me howled for a hunt, for a hunt where I was able to get rid of the threat to not only countless innocents dragged into this, but to defend and my own pack.

Defend them so I wouldn't have to see another packmate's face crumpled with distress and fear like Hobi hyung was now.

So I wouldn't have to see the burden of misplaced guilt bear down on my mate's shoulders, so I wouldn't have to see Tae's face flicker with concern, brightness dimming because the case got entangled, got more messy.

So I wouldn't have to see (Y/N) with the agony of fear and grief tearing at every feature.

So I wouldn't have to ever relive the sight of her body collapsing on Namjoon's office floor, wouldn't hear her shaky cries and sobs as she begged for us to save her pack, to take her out of the equation to protect them. So I wouldn't have to ever smell her scent; soured and tart with distress, skin clammy with sweat, physically sick at the threat hovering over her family, her nest.

I'd pay any cost to eliminate the threat.

I'd do anything to make every trafficker, every person involved in this suffer and pay for their inexcusable, unforgivable crimes.

And I know—know that having both Kookie and (Y/N) going through their heat and rut together made everything so much more precarious in the balance of blurring the line between human and animal instincts. Made it messier because it wasn't just a threat that Namjoon and Hobi hyung were seeing to the hybrids but because (Y/N) was just as heavily dragged into this; threats made against her, her pack, the baby bear she was looking after... they were reacting as such.

A threat made to a potential mate.

A threat made to my mate.

My fangs pool over my lips, pricking my bottom lip sharp enough to pierce and draw blood and it's the tug of a hand around my wrist that draws me out. Eyes meeting the weighted fiery gaze of my mate and commanding officer.

There's not a war between both aspects, both roles. Right now he's both simultaneously, right now he's defending and drawing me away from the office with the ordained right of both.

"Home. We need to get home." He growls out, voice a low, rough timbre.

Home.

Back to the pack.

Back to (Y/N) and Kookie.

I knew the same intensity, the same tug and the same need I felt for (Y/N); for someone I'd long since accepted and recognised as mate, as mine, Namjoon felt the same for Kookie. Felt the same protective tug, fierce and ever constant, for our bunny as I did for our fawn.

And home because Hobi hyung's eyes flash with this confusing mix of pain and grief and anger; helplessness in his eyes as he reaches to draw me beside him, tucking me close; shepherding me as his younger packmate out of the office, past the cloud of scents and pheromones until we're beside the car.

"Something's really wrong isn't it. For both of you to be so strung up." I finally say in the privacy of the car, engine running but unmoving as I stare at them, eyes flicking over both of them.

"The serpent—he had to be sedated not because he was lost in grief... he was lost in anger. He was trying to get out so he could hunt down Lee's daughter, to end her." Namjoon shares.

The spark in his eyes revealing perhaps just how difficult it had been to stop that, to prevent or hold the man back from hunting her down for his own right to justice, to eliminate the threat to himself.

"So you sedated him to stop him from running."

"I stopped him because he was ready to use his venom on her... the same way she'd used his own against him. His burns are from the extracted venom of his own biology. Lee really is a twisted lineage." He continues.

My ears ring.

Pinning back as I look at him, at the truth he's shared.

"His own venom against him. She used his biology to bring him pain."

Hobi nods. Jaw tight.

"He's been scratching at his scales at his wrists. Damaged them because they're stinging."

I flinch.

Hand tightening around the steering wheel and wishing it was around Lee's throat instead, around his son's, his daughter's. The growl that ripples past my lips is unhinged and feral, body thrumming with bloodlust.

"Lee is just one of many. He's just one we've got our hands on." but there were countless others.

Others I ached to sink my claws into and tear open.

It makes me wonder, whether I chose right by being an officer, whether I did right by reigning in instinct as much.

And knew when we would raid the barns and land our hands on anything concrete, I wasn't going to hold back.

It was why the teams were being trained in physical combat in shifted and unshifted forms.

Because groups were a form of pack formations, and because knowing how to communicate shifted was just as important for a situation that could go any way. Go could go awry and to hell in a heartbeat.

"And we will. It'll go well." Namjoon soothes.

And as I start the car, engine thrumming to life, it roars underfoot, roars with the same vengeance and need that burns and keeps our veins ablaze.

Keeps that anger from dimming.

We will get them.

We will.

--------

My fingers brush over the files, eyes scanning sharply over the missing hybrid reports.

A peacock male.

A serpent woman.

A student jaguar.

Two teenage Siamese twin girls.

Young. All of them young. All of them at the cusp of maturity and adulthood if not confidently secured in it. There was more and more proof and indication that the traffickers were kidnapping a type.

All of the missing reports had established a pattern. A commonality in the age range, in their medical reports; because all of them were reported to have healthy, functioning biological mating cycles. All of them were virile, fertile.

All of them were taken and pinpointed out of crowds, out of the population because of their ability to be bred. Using what was a natural urge, a natural rightness in hybrids against them—taking them so the people who used them, the humans and hybrids who brought their bodies, paid and funded the prostitution with their natural cycles.

It was disgusting, my hand unconsciously tightening around the files, brushing them aside to reach for the next, searching through the old databases for previous commonalities... trying to figure out if the trafficking pattern ran deeper than we thought. Wondering if there'd been any mention, any other officer who'd find out anything about other overlapping rings.

Wondering if there was previous arrests and witnesses that'd help strengthen our case.

My eyes take in details of random missing people's reports; seemingly unconnected, see in the large file, countless scrawled notes in margins, connections made with drug rings and other officers put undercover only to either vanish without a trace or report back nothing substantial.

It makes alarm bells ring in my ears, pinning back unconsciously because the pattern of this officer's work seemed too similar to ours, seemed as if we were following the same path.

My fingers brush past endless pages, hurriedly searching, scanning quickly as I try to find the name of the officer, to find their official stamp and signage, for the list of officers sent undercover.

And find my heart sinking; with a mixture of fear and disappointment and worry when I find the officer's personnel sheet hurriedly crammed at the back. Staring at the three red letters stamped across her details.

MIA.

My eyes focus on her name, peer at the dates she'd been working the case.

Take in the large white-blond furry ears peeking out of blonde hair, the steady, fierce determination in her eyes; wide and chin tilted straight.

As if challenging the person behind the camera.

Bold eyes and a strong posture.

MIA.

Lieutenant Fang Amina.

The strongest lead on this entire case. Missing.

Gone.

And for some reason, her name doesn't ring a bell, doesn't make my head buzz with familiarity. Neither does her face stir any recognition.

Who was Lieutenant Fang?

And what on earth had she discovered that had triggered her vanishing?

Who was covering tracks?

And why wasn't her name mentioned or flagged on the police database?

Someone had meticulously hidden this.

Which meant Fang knew something.

She was a big puzzle piece that we hadn't even been aware of. A puzzle piece that we'd be needing to get the first proper hint of what the complete image looked like.

Without her—we might be reaching a standstill.

Now there was a new priority and person to locate in this case.

Fang Amina.

------

The mindless haze of working and curling pressed close to a packmate becomes a cycle, becomes familiar with the ever soothing scent of earthy musk that clung to me. Wrapped me close. Lingered even if he wasn't holding me or leaning against me, nose grazing against my gland and scenting. His arm a weight I'd curled into, fingers grazing my waist and hip, legs entangled. And anchored me at night, sprawled over skin in a possessive touch, body pinning mine and fangs sinking into skin.

The same cycle is broken by the flutter of wings as Jin hyung moves to the living room rather the kitchen and slumps down, eyes glowing with contentment and satisfaction; sprawling onto the empty couch; wings settling and folding against his back and a startled groan when Hobi hyung takes the opportunity to straddle him from behind, phone abandoned, pinning his hips down and hands gripping hyung's waist.

Jin hyung carries the tell-tale scent of anise and cotton; nose immediately catching it even as it's muffled and trapped under Hobi hyung's body, captured and smears across his hands undoubtedly. Rubbing off onto him without active awareness that touch was enough to transfer the rich fertile scents.

Watch as Hobi hyung begins kneading at the base of his spine, unabashedly pushing the fabric up until he's helping draw it off hyung's broad frame; sprawling over him to help knock him flat once more. Laughing with giddiness at the ease with which Jin hyung melts, face resting on folded arms and resting on top of a cushion. I watch, utterly distracted from the lazy rubs at my scent gland, body subconsciously relaxing at the familiar touch, eyes drifting over the sight of knuckles pressing into toned skin and rubbing lines up and down his spine, between the base of his wings. Coaxing out a relieved groan as Hobi hyung soothes out the stiffness, kneading at the broad muscled expanse of his back, fingers grazing and drifting across smooth unmarked skin.

It makes me shift restlessly, a deep instinctual urge as my mouth waters, fangs aching to sink into sinewy limbs and see hyung's strength bend to accept the bite, or to overpower and pin, wings flared out and caging me in between his broad, muscled frame.

"Our sweet swan... so strung up from worrying about everyone." Hobi hyung croons, voice low, fangs scraping gently at his shoulder, pressing a line of kisses from his nape to the base of his spine, soft pecks that make Tae shift eagerly, wrangling himself away from Yoongi's stomach where he'd sprawled his head over. Slender long fingers brushing through the curls and scratching lightly.

"Are we courting swan hyungie too? Hobi hyung you never said." He says with a forlorn pout, tail drooping and wilting at being left out.

Jin hyung's face creases with fondness and amusement.

"Is that so cub? Want to court me?" he teases.

He gets an eager nod, Tae's body now caging Yoongi hyung's, kneeling between his legs and arms holding himself up as he stares at Jin hyung slowly unwinding under Hobi hyung's hands; expertly kneading and soothing out the knots.

Stripey tail swishing quickly as his ears perk up.

"Of course I do! I've always wanted to court the full pack—it sucks waiting around and not—" he says miserably, looking put-out at the idea.

"Pouncing?" Hobi hyung teases.

He nods.

"Just want a massive pack pile—want to scent and kiss and bite you all." He says, lips drooping at the lack of pack courting.

Even if I could steadily see the pack shift and grow towards that. Even if I could see us reaching that naturally.

Tae was an impatient tiger.

Wanted to leave claims and wanted to leave them now. Wanted to leave his berry claim over all of us.

"Get in line cub—I'm high demand and high maintenance." Jin hyung indulges with a wide curve of enticingly full lips.

He moves to scrabble off Yoongi hyung, drawn back by a hand splaying across his back and tugging him back down, black tail curling around his thigh.

"Pipe down cub... let's get through bun's rut and sweet girl's heat." He murmurs.

My eyes drift back to Jin hyung, snapping back as I realise why his presence had tugged me away from the files in the first place.

Feel my ears flicker and eyes drift to the door, once more taking in his more relaxed countenance, the way he allows himself to be drawn down.

Hyung hasn't been like that the entire week and so. Hasn't been this relaxed.

My eyes narrow at the implication, heart twisting and stomach fluttering nervously with anticipation.

"Is... are their cycles over?" I ask, voice tinged with a breathless need, an overwhelming want to see them, to see them sated and safe.

Jin hyung smiles, a loose curl of his lips.

"Final cycles I'd say. They're more and more coherent and settled for longer. They were curled up on the couch for a few hours." He shares warmly.

Next to me Joon hyung growls; a low deep rumble that instinctively draws ease out of me, body relaxing slightly against him.

It's the growl of a settled alpha, it's a protective, pleased rumble.

"So—food? Proper food for them?" Yoongi hyung asks with a pleased tilt to his pink lips, a fangy, gummy smile at the nod, ears flickering.

It cements the fact that both of them had been suffering and pained to not be able to tend to either of them, to make sure they were eating well, hydrated and making up for all the lost nutrients, for all the energy they burned through.

Food more substantial than the empty water bottles and energy bar wrappers clutched in either of their hands, discarded into the bins without a trace left.

It made me feel antsy.

That they'd not had proper meals, hadn't been coherent or cognizant enough to eat.

It stirs and stokes one fire but it makes a cavern, a gaping chasm widen; restlessness that she was my mate and she wasn't being tended to, wasn't able to look after herself as well as she should be taken care of.

"I'll help hyung." Joon hyung offers enthusiastically when Yoongi hyung drags himself upright, padding off to the kitchen and leaving behind a sprawled tiger across the carpet.

"Kookie can eat laden meals post-rut. His metabolism will need the extra calories and nutrients, poor bun must be starving." Jin hyung calls.

And (Y/N) yet wouldn't have an appetite.

Too tired and hazy to want to eat.

Too settled and lost in the fog of being taken care of to want to force down more than mouthfuls.

Too wrung out and sore to want food over comfort and tactile touch.

She wouldn't be able to stand the sudden meals or the extra nutrients in heavy meals, body too sensitive and too out of sorts for it.

"And snacks for (Y/N)." Tae calls before stretching an arm out towards me, eyes glittering with warmth and tenderness.

"How about we go buy some?"

Tail curling and beckoning.

I stand, leaning over to take his hand and draw him up against me, smiling at the rub of his cheek against mine and his tail curling around my calf.

"Let's buy snacks for our fawn kit." He says.

I nod, hand entangling with his, drawing him away.

"I think you mean fawn pup."

Playfully bickering even as we slip out the apartment, feeling that nervous tug that coaxes me to turn back to protect the pack, the nest space of the spare apartment, ears stiffening with alertness and nose trying to detect if their scent seeped past scent-warded doors.

"Pup."

Walking bundled up down the streets, picking our way and weaving through a bustle, evening long since have settled as we head to the nearest convenience store.

"Kit."

Stocking up on pain relief patches, painkillers and scent-scrub detergent. Drifting over to curl besides Tae as he dithers over snacks, hands brushing across packets, plucking them with care.

"Pup."

Watch the cashier ring them up, eyes drifting over the snacks, gaze drifting to search and stare past the large windows, habitually scanning the other customers, the mannerisms of the cashier who carefully packs up the snacks, smiling as she nudges the bag forward.

"Movie night?" she asks curiously, taking the proffered card to swipe it, plucking the receipt to hand both back over.

My eyes stop searching, nose failing to find the tart scent of fear, spine loosening.

"For our mate." Tae answers with a beam.

Her smile widens, eyes scanning the purchases.

"It's amazing that your instincts are so keyed to protecting and providing. She must be very happy."

Very sated. Drunk on pleasure. I didn't know if she was happy but I'd smelt enough to know her biology was satisfied and taken care of. That she was having her need met and she was with someone we inexplicably trusted. Someone I would one day propose to court. Someone I knew her biology trusted wholly just as much as she did.

But—happy will do.

"That's all we hope to keep her."

"Kit."

Hands entangled and burrowed deep in my pocket, his body tilting closer to me to chase the warmth seeping off me, his own merging with me. Walking under street-lit roads and breathing in the same freezing air, his chest rumbling happily with the closeness, tugging me closer in front of the apartment complex to press a searing kiss to my lips. The heat of his mouth thawing the cold, chipping at it and his tail curling around me to draw me closer.

"Cub."

We concede at by the time we've returned, bustling through the other door by habit, watch him amble down the hallway swinging the bags of goods with pride, chuffing when he gets twirled into a hug by Jin hyung who takes the bags off him, pecking his cheek. See his lips as he murmurs that their cycles have ended. Voice soft but still caught by my ears; pricking up with excitement.

But my body lingers, lingers by the partition; the door left open.

Slipping through and towards the scent of entangled anise and cotton, tugged by the heady scent, reeled in as my feet take step after step down the hallways towards her bedroom. Feel the scent of them stick to the roof of my tongue as it curls out the living room; soft and warm and enticingly rich. Tail swishing silently, anxiously behind me as I hover in front of her bedroom door.

Sated and settled longer Jin hyung had said.

Heat broken. Rut ended.

My hand curls around the handle, nudging it open quietly and peering in.

Heart twisting and instincts keening at the sight.

Find the nervous antsy feeling finally come to settle. Finally grounded by the first sight of them after a long week. Instincts eased at the sight of her tucked against Kookie, their bodies pressed close and the sheets draped loosely over her hip.

Eyes drifting over her bare back, inked knuckles rubbing up and down the line of her spine, skin dewy and gleaming with a layer of sweat, her head tucked against his throat and his ears flopped over her shoulder; equally entangled and pressed against her, a bare leg draped low over her calf.

I watch as he noses against her skin, her body shifting and tilting into the touch, sheets slipping to reveal the bruised curve of her hip, fingerprints branded across flesh.

Fangs aching and mint blooming at the sight, seeing them dazed and lost in each other, curled together and bodies bare. Bearing the proof and marks of their shared cycles, scent intoxicating and mouth-watering, instincts whimpering and thrashing, growling with the consuming need to move towards the scent.

Fangs pricking my lips and tail swishing as I see them, hear the low gravelly murmur of his voice and the soft almost inaudible volume of her voice, hand curling around his back, the small shift of their bodies revealing the pressed curve of her breast against his chest.

Feel my hand tighten on the door and my legs try to move forward; wanting nothing more than to look after both of them, vulnerable and settled and hazy as they hover on that brink of teetering into post-rut and post-heat.

But shrink back, compel my hand to loosen and let go, drawing the door shut behind me before I can interrupt the comfort haze they've both beginning to calm down and sink into.

Draw the door shut on their intoxicating scent, of the smell of ripe, bred and fertile before my instincts snap and push.

This is their time, this is their space, their nest and their haze.

And as much as my instincts want, a greater part wants to let them bask in the afterglow and intimacy alone. Something shared between them to end like that too... come to settle that way too.

The safety and comfort they found in each other, the sanctuary they held each other to be... it's something that's theirs alone.

The two prey mates of the pack.

And let the door gently close silently on them and the sight.

Relieved that their cycles had ended well, had ended safely.

And the great part of me, silently fretting and worrying, comes to quieten.

They're okay.

They're okay.

And we'd be here to help them through their post rut and heat.

(THERE WE GO! 13K CHAPTER THAT I HOPED YOU ENJOYED AND YES! WE HAD A PART TWO OF SORTS TO THE HEAT—BECAUSE THEIR BIOLOGY JUST KEPT PUSHING AND PUSHING, BUT THIS WAS A SLOWER INTIMACY AS THEIR RUT AND HEAT CALMED DOWN, QUIETENED ENOUGH FOR THEM TO ENJOY THEIR INTIMACY TOGETHER AND EXPLORE MORE THOROUGHLY. I HOPE IT WASN'T BAD TO READ—HOPE ALL THE SUBPLOT DEVELOPMENT MAKES SENSE TO READ AND WAS ENJOYABLE TOO... RATHER I HOPE YOU'RE ALL SEEING THE CLUES AND REMEMBERING THEM!! BECAUSE THERE IS SO MUCH TO COME AND I JUST HOPE I'M DOING THE TRAFFICKER PLOT JUSTICE! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS FOR BOTH AND HOW YOU FOUND IT ALL! CAN'T WAIT! Midiiplier ... MY SLEEPING BEAUTY, HOPE THIS WAS SOMETHING GOOD TO WAKE TO AND HOPE THAT IT WAS WELL... I SAID WE NEEDED TO DRAW THE END OF THE RUT OUT OF HIM~ LET ME KNOW DARLING! TAKE CARE AND STAY SAFE... AND EYES PEELED FOR MORE PACK FLUFF!)

QUESTION... A NEW CHANGE COMING?

Mine is... starting uni! Finally! In person again.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3