JOON POV:

The air flickers and dips, pheromones reflecting everyone's curiosity, though it's there in their eyes even if their scents hadn't broadcasted it. My own gaze flits to the way Minnie's eyes flicker back and forth to the tail draped over (Y/N)'s lap, stifling a whined chirp in the low of his throat. Not missing the curved smirk playing on Amina's lips as her tail swishes, slow and contented under (Y/N)'s gentle rubs and pats, ears flickering and perked—large and stood to attention as she takes in the rest of the pack. Thoroughly amused at the reaction it's gotten out of her fellow fox.

Finally getting to put faces to names.

Half of them familiar, half of them not.

"So..." Tae begins, a purposefulness in his words, tail swishing slowly, curling and swaying behind him as he leans forward at Jin hyung's words, eyes snagging on KitKat—scent pooling sweeter as an immediate, biological, unconscious response to the giggly kit baby on Amina's lap.

It tugs a conspirator grin from several lips, smiles deepening, quirking with amusement as Amina's eyes settle on him, picking up on the shift in unspoken words, the warmth pooling in their scents.

My tail quickens, wagging and thumping against the upholstery despite myself, despite not even knowing what's caused it.

"So?"

"What hyung said... we really wouldn't ever mind taking care of KitKat... whenever you need to go off saving the world, giving orders to two officers or you know... letting us kitsit?" words tinged with a hopefulness, an eagerness that's in the sparkling giddiness of his eyes, in the sweet richness of strawberries; ripe and bursting.

The tips of her ears fold, lips curling, fangs peeking as she continues to brush her hand up and down KitKat's back, tail swishing and swaying before suddenly folding, tucking over kit's lap instead.

(Y/N)'s hands no longer occupied, a visible sagging of Jimin's tail—as if all the huffiness from it has drooped, melted away, tail giving a quick eager swish, eyeing her lap with a gleam. KitKat now tucked up in a soft, thick tail that swishes and tucks over her kit's lap instead.

"I wouldn't mind... I'd feel a lot more at ease if I knew KitKat was getting to spend time with not just Mi and me but a pack—especially one with three felines would definitely help her."

The rumbling chuff and silent exchange of eyes that say see I told you as he settles back, barely holding back restraint from immediately scooping and whirling away the kit that's patting at soft fur with quiet babbles interspersed with mama.

"He's been having this conversation since Jiminie brought KitKat in." Kook leans in to whisper, a flopped ear brushing against my cheek, hand against my shoulder as he whispers it with a scrunched grin, eyes sparkling with warmth.

I tilt back, body leaning into his space, eyes drinking in the sight of happy-giddy in large shining eyes and a scrunched nose, a wide toothy smile.

A tinge of heat in my cheeks when my tail thumps harder against the couch and it briefly tugs Hobi's gaze, ears twirling and small not so inconspicuous grin as his scent sweetens. Amina's eyes flitting between the two, something warm softening green eyes before she angles her head away. Ears flickering.

Undoubtedly having caught the sound.

My cheeks warm further.

"Ahh don't be shy Joonie hyungie...I think it's really cute when your tail gets all excited wags." Words a hushed murmur, lips brushing against the shell of my ear, hand squeezing my shoulder as Kook slots himself closer, body draping against my back. Body tilting to press closer to me, head moving to prop up against my other shoulder, nuzzling briefly.

"It's very cute pup." Hobi echoes with a growing grin tugging at heart-shaped lips, fangs and teeth on full pearly display.

"What conversation?" I deflect, watching Hobi's eyes spark—amusement and tenderness in them both, hand squeezing my thigh before he leans into me, body sinking against mine whilst his gaze trails to Tae, watches the stripey swishing motion of his tail.

"About getting to kit-sit KitKat... about his rights as a cub... don't think one day was nearly anywhere near enough for any of us though. To spend time with her properly. You two were hogging her all this time." a teasing accusation in his words, finger poking at my leg.

"Blame Jiminie... he barely let me go to the centre. Capitalising on kit time, fawn time." lips curling when Jimin's minty scent noticeably sweetens, thickens, pulsing with interest—the slow swishing, swaying motion of his tail expressing his smug contentment.

"Sneaky isn't he? Jangmi won't want to spend time with KitKat?" Hobi interjects, voice rising slightly, smile and scent warm as he mentions her panda packmate.

It makes a part of me reflexively tense up, though the softness in Amina's eyes as she takes in Hobi, a small shake of her head that make her big ears flap and fold, a quietness when she doesn't immediately answer, almost lingering on the words before she says them.

"I think... and there's no shame in admitting it, but I don't think Jangmi and me could be full-time mother and aunt without some help." The words rushing out of her, strengthening when (Y/N)'s hand squeezes at her side, head tilting to rest against her shoulder. Unspoken comfort given.

There's still so much healing, so much growth, so much adapting to happen.

There's still so much adjusting. For Jangmi—her home no longer a confining reminder of what she'd lost. For Amina who was finally healthy enough to leave the centre and live at home again. For KitKat who'd never known home until Amina.

There was a whole new dynamic being formed, a whole new family being formed.

Of course it was going to take time.

And yet hearing Amina say it—I can't help the feeling of pride that radiates through me, can't help the feeling of glowing pride that rumbles through my chest, that makes her smile deepen, her eyes soften as she hears it, words resolved and stronger.

"I think... not just for us... KitKat would love knowing people other than just the two of us."

Relinquishing her cradling hold on her when Hobi makes a strangled sound of pure adoration, watching as Hobi slips off the couch to rush forward to scoop her up, ears twirling as he spins around with her, happy, excited pealing giggles as she waves her arms and legs, tail swishing all the more quicker at the sight of an older kit.

Biologies so unconsciously, so naturally responding to one another.

Amina might be KitKat's maternal figure, her mama, but that didn't mean that KitKat wouldn't benefit from learning to make bonds with other hybrids, other species with other roles than the maternal role Amina and by extension Jangmi would be for her. It'd be good for KitKat—but it would also ease Amina into it, into the suddenness and newness of it without rushing her or straining her.

"By all means—KitKat can always, always be my little kit can't you baby?" words cooed with an indulgent fondness, nose nuzzling against hers, her giggles egged on by the twirling motions and wide, wide smile that's directed to her. For her.

Giggling and nodding, pressing her cheek to his, delighting in being cradled by him.

Tail swishing eagerly.

My ears perk up at the sound of a rumbling chuff, tugged to the sight of a swishing eager tiger, but his gaze is flitting back and forth from Hobi and KitKat and then curiously at Amina, leaning forward to peer at her.

Voice low and warm and accompanied with a deep boxy grin, fangs grazing his bottom lip.

Tail swishing all the more eager to Jin hyung's teasing, gentle touch that brushes against his tail, skims over the soft striped fur, gently tugging. Eliciting a rumbly chuff and a burst of berry, the scent and sound making Kit's ears flicker twitch in chase of it.

"Something catch your eye tiger? Looks like you're near ready to pounce on my kitten."

He grins, wide and disarming.

Shaking his head, curls bouncing. Tail curling to wrap around Jin hyung's wrist, tugging, tugging, tugging to draw his fingers up against the curve of his spine.

"I couldn't pounce on a kit so tiny." He denies, scent berry-sweet and rich. A softer warmth in his deeper boxy grin as he looks at the two of them, almost committing the details to memory. Committing to memory the soft thick sprawl of her tail over her lap, fingers smoothening over it habitually.

"You know..." he begins, the slow purposefulness of his words catching attention, drawing focus to him.

Fangs pooling heavier over his lips, the attention not gone unnoticed by him.

But his eyes are fixed on Amina, head tilting as he appraises her. The gesture mirrored.

"You should be on the mural. You and KitKat."

Simultaneously multiple scents bloom softer and gentler, entangling together with a warm pulse of affection as Hobi's eyes flit to him, tail giving a small swish-wiggle.

"Mural?" ears flickering at the giddiness that softens the timbre of his baritone.

"We're painting the centre! Got Min Junie and Ji Ah on it... why not you and KitKat?" tail swishing and curling, lips stretched wide, boxy grin unrestrained and fangs glinting.

"Sure there's space?" Lips quirking up, fangs peeking as I watch the way KitKat stares at his swaying tail with intent, eyes snagged to it with curiosity. But it makes her scent soften, the balmy sea-salt scent gentle.

"Always~ even if it'd be crowded I'd add you two! Cos the mural's all about the happy endings isn't it?" The scent of berries soft and sweet. Words sweeter.

Her tail swishes.

"As long as you can squeeze the two of us in... then I'd really like that Taehyung."

His scent blooms sweeter, a rumbling chuff emanating from his chest. A brief pause before KitKat tries to mimic it in teeny, her ears perked in delight at catching the sound. Eyes bright as she looks to Hobi, to Amina, to Tae for confirmation, blue and brown eyes shining.

"I think that means Kit would too."

[......]

"Tea?" Yoongi offers, eyes noting the lazy, slightly droopy flutter to Amina's eyes, the slow swish of her tail drawn over my lap, fingers smoothening over it, watching as KitKat burrows close to her, soft baby babbles– half words and indecipherable mumbles pressed to the curve of her jaw, to the crook of her neck. Rubbing her cheek against Mina's, tail swish-swish-swishing at the repeated motion of a hand rubbing up and down her back. Curled to mama.

"We have herbals and fruit teas."

"Do you have a berry infused one?" And no longer has she uttered the words and Yoongi's nodded that a rumbling chuff seeps through the air, smile fangy and grinning and all too boxy as Tae beams, tail swaying as he turns from his half-sprawl over Hobi.

"A woman with good taste~ I approve." Grin widening when he catches (Y/N)'s gaze and winks, curls all rumpled and messy but there's still no hiding the mischief in dark brown eyes.

"You've never told me what sort of tea you drink with Yoongi hyung on your late night dates."

"Not my fault~ the invitation was never exclusive... I would love it if a tiger came to tea."

"Like the storybook!" my lips curve, stretching up. A faint remnant of a memory that sparks when Tae chuffs eagerly, ears perking upright.

"I remember that! My favourite book... couldn't wait to grow up and be a tiger who went for tea. Cos cubs can't climb chairs easily." He mourns dolefully, the tips of his ears briefly folding before they perk upright again.

"But I'm a fully grown tiger now—could invite me to tea anytime." Words warm and giddy and laced with the same sweetness that's in his sticky-berry scent. A lazy sway to his tail, stretched out entirely over Hobi's lap and the couch. Grinning fangy and boxy.

"Charmer." (Y/N) lilts at him, lips curved and scent pulsing soft and gentle. A tinge of growing sweetness there.

At the same time as Amina speaks.

"I can see why (Y/N)'s always smitten smiley... with so many mates, such charming ones keeping her all blushy and happy. Good. As you should. I approve of the late night tea dates." An affirming nod accompanied with a big swish of her tail, eyes vivid and bright. gleaming with approval and satisfaction. Nudging her side and grinning at her, fangs peeking past.

Accepting the mug Yoongi carefully hands over to her first, fingers curling around to latch onto the scalding heat of the mug with a blissful sigh, eyes fluttering, pleased—a similar countenance on (Y/N)'s face at the heat radiating off the mugs, even as Yoongi hyung winces slightly at the sight.

My fingers burn slightly, hissing through my teeth, when I take the mug, eyes already widening and apologetic, lips parting, at the look of faint fond exasperated gentleness in hyung's eyes as he looks at me, carefully easing it to the side.

Fingers brushing against mine, a soft squeeze of his hand cradling mine and his tail coming to poke at me in a light swat.

"Let it cool pup."

"Sorry hyung."

There's the faint flash of gums and fangs, warmth pooling in my stomach, the familiar lurch and twist and the sensation of butterflies, lips stretching wide at the sight. His expression turns softer. Dark brown eyes turning impossibly softer.

"Don't be sorry pup. Can't have those pretty hands burning."

"Have a thing for hands?" I murmur, low enough that my voice doesn't carry, throat slightly drying when unconsciously, unbidden, my gaze flits to his instead. To the slender fingers curled around the tray and the large sprawling size of his palm. What'd meant to be a teasing remark somehow backfiring onto me.

"...maybe."

I know I definitely do. Definitely for his.

"I have a thing for my mates." A gummy sweetness to his lips and a warmth in his eyes that's underlined with a flash of heat before it vanishes. Briefly flitting across dark, expressive eyes.

"Charmer. Trying to woo not just Flower Bambi but be charming in front of her friend? Proving to be an unbeatable crush." Hobi lilts, a warm laugh ringing in his words, eyes sparkling at the soft pink that colours Yoongi hyung's cheeks, tail swaying dangerously slow. Eyes narrowing in warning.

"Well I already was charmed. He let me meet my baby. And if he's got KitKat's immediate approval then surely he's already number one feline for her." Amina interjects, a playfulness in her words

[......]

"You get on really well with kittens." Amina muses, gaze appraising Yoongi, watching as my fingers pauses in their soft brushes against her ears, a small hand grasping at them, curling into a small fist and tugging my fingers to her ears again.

"Bossy." A soft huff of laughter, lips brushing against soft wispy hair. Nuzzling against her, soft baby powder scent gentle on my nose.

An eager bonk that's almost a headbutt as she tilts to the touch. Yoongi hyung's tail sprawled across my lap, his citrus-sweet scent softening further. Dark eyes fond.

"I don't know about that. I haven't really ever been around kittens." Slowly tearing his gaze away to look at her

"Well then you get on really well with KitKat. Everyone does—but you. You helped her shift. Must be something extra special about you." her lips curling wryly. Spotting the mouths that had opened to protest to shut at her words. Tail swishing slow. Occasionally resting on (Y/N)'s lap, occasionally on her own, fingers carding through thick white-blonde fur.

"Is that her name? Fang KitKat? Going to grow to have a fierce set of fangs and still be the sweetest kitten she is now?" my lips curve, catching the soft pink on hyung's cheeks. The way he resolutely skims over entirely over the compliment to focus on her name instead. The soft gumminess to his smile as he looks at KitKat, fingers brushing over the tip of her tail.

Smile deepening.

"KitKat's our special name for her. But I was thinking. Legally... once the papers and process is all cleared... then KitKat's legal name will be Kaya."

"Kaya. Fang Kaya." I murmur. Wording it aloud. Feeling the way it sounds. A pleasing simpleness and strength to it both.

"Sounds like a warrior's name!" a loud exclamation, tail swishing and swaying. Curling with excitement, boxy grin glowing with giddiness. Dark curls rumpled from where they've been tugged and toyed with, fingers burrowed into them, cheek squished against Jimin's thigh. Head half rising before fingers coax him down with a fangy grin peeking past a grinning mouth.

"She is one!" (Y/N) says, eyes bright. I watch her watch the others—a quiet contentment to remain curled up. The soft gentleness in her anise scent, the bubbling happiness in expressive doe eyes as she sees her pack and her friend—sees two tethers of her life begin to forge a link.

It feels all the more real, that bond with Amina, because we're not simply connected by duty. By a shared responsibility and need.

We're connected by (Y/N).

"The fiercest warrior in all the lands—with baby fangies to go with it!" a scrunched grin, flopped ears brushing against his cheeks as he leans in, hands stretched out for her, whirling her high above his head, relishing in squealed, pitched giggles. Drawing upright with a kit snagged and scooped.

"Can you growl little kitty kit?" he laughs, nose nudging against hers, making a fierce playful growl that rumbles in his throat, her ears perking up at the new sound. Fascinated by it.

Trying to bare her teeth in the same way as Kookie tries to.

But because Kookie's grinning as he does it—the effect is all the more softened. A wide gummy sofSht smile, that's all small teeth and fangs and giggles. Because the growl is lost in it.

"Fiercest! Isn't she hyungs? Don't you think baby?" eyes flitting to doe eyes, his own crinkling, faint lines around them when she hums. Enamoured.

"She's got a warrior mama. Although Mina growls far more scary don't you~" laughing as she dodges a swat and swipe, the sudden dive leading to a muss of curls and big ears crowding (Y/N).

"I'll bite you!" fangs snapping at her throat even though she's laughing, green eyes shining with mirth.

Ducking away from the hand trying to shove her back.

"Not in front of your baby!"

The swaying swish of Amina's tail all too smug at the choked splutter it elicits.

-----------------------------------

There's a giddy conspirator grin as Minnie nudges the door shut, quickly setting the box down, barely getting to peer in when there's the sound of paws briefly scuffling and a pop—rumpled ears flickering before perking up and a loud chirped greeting as Amina pops out.

The sight of her paws on the edge of the box and large ears swivelling as she takes in the office is endearing—but the effect of it sharpened by the focus in her eyes, scanning and searching the room before she clambers out. A quick hop and trot as she pads around the desk, eyeing up the piles of files at the end and the large space of it stretched out for her.

"Want a debriefing Lieutenant?" a teasing tinge to my voice as I circle the desk, but the loud chirp is in vocal assent and she sits back, paws folded and waiting expectantly, large ears perked and tail swishing across the files as I take a seat.

And she listens, sharp and attentive, as Jimin and I fill her in, mapping out the timeline of disappearances, the cases that we'd begun connecting to the trafficking ring and the newest development we'd gotten.

The connection to the homeless shelter.

There was something about it that didn't sit right. And whether that was the absence of the shelter owner or the link to scorpions—because scorpions had bitten Ji Ah.

And she listens, ears flickering and attentive, eyes watchful, paw swiping for the debriefing file Jimin sets down, paws rifling through the pages, head dipping to scan them only after she's heard us talk.

Pawing at the papers before she tilts her head up, sharp and assessing.

A quiet confused chirp.

Because in none of the papers are the details and locations that I've mentioned.

"Sharp eyes—must be a fox thing." Jimin grins at her, fangs peeking past his lips as he tilts his head towards the large screen.

"We have it all digitalised and encrypted. Paper trails are awfully easy to get rid of and access don't you think Amina?"

She chirps in agreement, pausing her rifling of the pages to turn towards the screen instead, hopping down from the desk to sit front and centre in front of the screen that flickers on—a mass of detail beginning to cluster the digitalised map. Each missing case's location, each location where some of the hybrids, where Ji Ah and Min Junie were found, where the tracking chips had been manufactured to all the red-light districts.

There's a mass of information that clusters the screen, all of them vying for space as maps and details are overlapped—steadily accumulating as the data loads.

I don't watch the screen, I watch Amina.

I watch as her eyes blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the rapid intensity of data streaming onto the screen, all of it harsh and demanding, the light of the screen a glaring vividness as the lights dim.

I watch her reaction, watch the barely controlled flinch of light harsh against her eyes and the way her head ducks briefly, ears folding to try shield her gaze.

Quietly slipping over to her, sinking down into a crouch, hand briefly flitting in front of her to draw her gaze to me, watch watchful eyes flit to me.

Voice soft.

"It's a lot to take in. Not just the information Amina..." voice soft and low. Watching the points of her ears fold, droop. Head dipping.

My fingers reach out to skim across the back of her ears, feel a rumbling chirp at the back of her throat, pawing frettingly at the floor and eyes slowly skimming up to hold mine once more. Tilting into the touch.

A seriousness in her entire posture, an exhaustion too.

Tired of feeling this way.

Of being overwhelmed or suddenly trying to adapt to the bustling fullness of the station and the cases.

It's easy to notice in her posture, the slight slump to it, even if her eyes blaze with a certainty and strength. She peers past my fingers to try catch sight of the screen again, a small amused swish of her tail when it makes me huff a laugh, fingers at the base of her ears. A flash of fangs snapping light and playful when Jimin leans down, finger tapping her nose faux-chidingly.

"A nap in the office—I won't tell~ Joon can rant when he gets started. You can just give him a paw whack if he gets going too long." A hushed conspirator murmur, a flash of amusement in her eyes that's mirrored in my own when she reaches a paw out to swat at him lightly.

A soft rumbling amused chirp sounding at the affronted look before she turns her head to look at me expectantly.

A paw coming to rest against my forearm, turned away from the screen.

"Want us to talk through it all? It's quite tiring on the eyes to focus too long on it."

A nod before she turns around in a circle, coming to plop facing the screen and folding her paws to rest her head there before Jiminie sinks down beside her too.

A soft grin on his face and a warmth in his eyes, an unspoken camaraderie for the fellow fox officer, for the fox he rescued and for the trust he earned in turn.

And I sense it in the way the mint and sea-salt entangles with my own.

And with the way Amina in another way—comes home.

-----------------------

There's a rustling sound from the depths of one of the large boxes, scuffling paws and the occasional peek of a large ear flickering and perking with interest, the heavy swish of her tail draped over the edge of the box, the tip of it swaying as she rifles. Scuffling sounds as she constantly paws about in careful scrutinising search. The sound of it making my ears swivel in automatic response to catch the sound, lips curving upwards when I see the curiosity in Jimin's eyes; constantly flitting towards the box with a fangy grin, watching with the impatient swish of his own tail.

Both our ears perking up at the loud chirp that accompanies the pop from inside the box, large ears unfolding and perking upright to full attention. Sharp bright eyes gleaming and head ducking briefly before she scampers out with a quick hop and flurry of paws trotting forward, chirps muffled around the manila folder she clutches between fangs.

An expectant stare in her eyes as she pads towards where the two of us are cross-legged, dropping the folder in the space between us, paw tapping at it impatiently and chirping. An incessant stomp of her paw against the folder as she nudges it closer, sitting back on her hindlegs, folded and waiting.

"Looks like she likes giving orders just as much as another fox I know." I grin, reaching for the folder before Jimin snags it anyways, drawing his tail over his lap, eyes crinkling and smile pearly, fangy and full of mischief.

"What can I say? Foxes command authority."

"You mean you share a bossy streak."

The affronted stare greets me doubled, and somehow I have the distinct impression that even though Amina's shifted right now—she's staring at me with an expression that's still fully brows raised and scrutinising.

"That. That look too." I laugh, ducking my head away with a grin to tug out the heaviest file—the main details of the missing cases all collectively, sensing her gaze shifting. Sharpening.

A quick pawing of it as she tries to nudge it open for me, my movements slower than her patience and need to know allows for.

"Something tells me you're used to running a tight ship, and running it fast." I acquiesce, slowly filtering through the missing cases and tugging out the first one.

Categorising them for her.

The commonalities we had noticed.

Laying them out in a line in front of us.

Ranging from children to adults. From the children we'd found at the barn to the certain age range that the adults tended to range from.

But there was always a peak. There wasn't a missing case tied into someone older than the mid 20's range.

It all tied back into the sickening thought that the hybrids that had gone missing, the adults that had been taken—they were taken because they were in their prime. Hybrid and human biology both developed.

There's silence that follows. A quiet brush of her tail swishing from side to side, ears pinned back, fangs pooled over even if the threatening, furious rumbles have quietened to the back of her throat.

And then she moves.

Pawing about to move the files around, shuffling them around, head tilted in scrutiny as she gauges for something—my and Jimin's gaze in turn fixed to the pattern she's picking up that's different to our own.

Reshuffling the pattern we'd habitually laid it all out with until she pads around, eyes narrowing at the pattern Amina is picking apart.

Subtle changes.

Grouping them together.

The peacock male, the serpent women, the jaguar student in one distinctive category. The twin Siamese teenagers in another. And the other cases—more common hybrid species of cats and dogs largely put through to another.

The few cases that are unsorted or not connected by a seemingly common factor are grouped in the middle. And Amina paws at them to separate the space between them.

Eyes watchful and sharp. A soft rumbling chirp.

Paw stomping at the distinct three categories she's made out of them.

"A missing female, sheep hybrid, two young chick hybrids—related but different ages and a stallion hybrid male." Jimin lists, a flash of clarity sinking into his eyes as he says them out aloud and I word it.

"Farmyard hybrid species."

A sharp chirp of agreement.

"These ones... more common hybrid species." He murmurs, voice pitching lower as he filters through them.

Eyes snagging onto the far end pile.

"And rare hybrid species. There's categories. There's specific categories even within the kidnappings and missing cases."

"So there's three rings?"

A stubborn pawing at the smaller pile—a lot of the children and adults from the barn were common hybrid species. And when I check—I see she's right. Nearly all of them were.

That only cements the fact.

"Were there ever any rare species at the barn Amina?"

A shake of her head.

A sharpness in her eyes that mirrors the connections and links forming in our minds, brains sifting through other details.

Forming stronger connections as if all along—all we needed to do was look at them differently.

"So... if the barn had been one site. And they'd all been the more common hybrid species—we're betting that there'll be two other primary locations."

"Different needs, different locations." Jimin leans forward, tugging the missing reports to him, ears pinned back with an antsy anger that seeps into the mint of his scent.

"Meaning?"

"There's three distinct locations. The barn was the source for training... breaking hybrids and making them into breeding machines. But... the rarer hybrids—the commodities for the traffickers is the rarer species. That's why there's less cases for them. There's not many generally and I'll bet it caters to a more exotic taste." He spits the words out, harsh and jagged, a roughness to his words and a tightness to his jaw.

The same coiling anger that winds its ever-increasingly familiar noose around my gut, winds it tight around my throat and drags a growl past bared fangs, a ringing dissonance as I let the words sink in.

"Then we look for three different types of locations. There's some sort of twisted, sick logic to their thinking. And I think... I think I know where to start looking."

Two pair of fox eyes stare at me. Intensely trained.

"Remember we had some suspicion about the business district in Seocho with the unusual finance activity? I think... I think they're tied to the rare hybrid cases. The money would tie to it. They're transactions."

And though links begin to connect, and those links begin to grow strong, formed and fused together based on the hours we spend pouring over ledgers, it's knowing we're getting steadily closer.

But it's a constant reminder that the monsters we'll find on the other side of this-- the fear that in order to destroy them I could see myself willingly become one myself makes my stomach twist.

And a pressure under my nails to pulse. The weight of claws lying just under the surface.

Barely.

--------------------------

"I've talked to JB and Jinyoung—they've still got surveillance on the shelter but there's been no sign of the owner still. And we now have two scorpion hybrids in a holding cell. What do you want me to do Joon?" nudging the door shut with a foot, hands full of food.

"Preferably I'd like them disposed just as ruthlessly as they're helping hybrids go missing."

A gleam of a sharp hungry smile curls his lips.

"Within legal boundaries—I'll say let them rot. Let them spend time isolated and alone before interrogations."

"Will you let me loose on them?" eyes sparked with a carnal primal hunger, an insatiable biological need that won't be satisfied until those instincts demanding reparation and justice in whichever way he can is done. Is given.

"Will I have a case on my desk if I do?"

The sharp glint of his fangs is all too promising for all the wrong reasons.

"I can stay out of trouble."

From her perch on the couch, there's an amused chirped rumbled sound, a soft snort akin to laughter and the wide unblinking stare feigning confusion when Jimin's head snaps to her.

Eyes narrowing.

"Don't believe it lieutenant?"

She tilts her head back, fangs bared with an intense sharpness that mirrors the carnal, biological need to sink fangs in and tear. Fangs bared with a primality.

Rather she doesn't want him to stay out of trouble and keep his hands clean—because none of us would mind getting them bloodied.

"Or would you rather that on your behalf as well—I make them weep?"

The chirp that rumbles in her throat is steeped with a growl, threatening, fur bristling and standing on end.

"You heard the lieutenant. Within... bounds... do what you must to get answers. All the better if they suffer and sweat whilst giving them."

[......]

"Ah shit. Jimin-ah check your phone." Wincing at the sight of missed calls and messages and the time.

"I just know Tae and Kook are going to leave scraps!" a huffy twist to pouting lips, ears jolting and flickered to attention, contemplating thumbing at his phone to call, hand hastily sweeping up empty boxes and files aside.

Trying to gather a semblance of being put together, uniform rumpled and dishevelled as he straightens, fingers carding through his hair and brushing over the rumpled fur of his ears.

There's still an absent of a third voice, of Amina, my posture loosening with a fondness as I look at her curled up on a large pillow—the files she had been looking at still tucked under her paws, ears folded and drooped. Sea-salt scent soft and curled up in a circle.

"We should've kept a closer track of time." I mumble, eyes scanning over the last detail before I shut the files, pushing them away.

Working with Amina had been a success, it had made some weak and uncertain links more firm, it'd made our knowledge of the case and potential locations to search more concrete.

There isn't regret but there's a sense of fluster pulsing through me as I tug my jacket off the hook, snagging at the keys and phone.

"Reckon she'll bite me if I accidently wake her up?" Jiminie asks, though he looks far from it, plucking a hoodie off the coat stand. A carefulness and an even more purposeful quietness in his movements—measured and gentle as he approaches, wondering how to go about it.

"Hold the hoodie open." Briefly discarding everything to cross the floor, hands slowly...slowly... slowly easing down to scoop Amina up, a brief murmured apology, quiet and hushed, when it makes a soft protesting chirp emanate far deep in her throat. Quiet and almost lost.

The tip of one ear flickering at the sound of my voice before settling again.

Easing her into my arms, soft fur warm against my palm and fingertips, a light weight in my arms as I lift her from the cushion, paws briefly, unconsciously, furling into the papers before going lax. Nose burrowing into her tail, circling further into herself. All tucked.

Tucked and warm when I ease her down into the cradling outstretch hold of the hoodie in Minnie's arms. Fingers brushing between her ears, over large folded ears. Tucking the hoodie around her secure.

Tucking her out of sight.

She disappears entirely under the fabric, burrowing away with a sleepy shuffle.

"She will bite if you drop her or wake her now." I grin.

Leading the way to the door, to tugging it open.

We might be late, but we've also missed the changing of shift timings—the station quieter.

"Hyung!" a familiar voice halting my steps, interjecting.

A grinning face from between where he's sat on the top of JB's desk—enjoying watching the look of amusement and faint resignation on his mates' face.

"Bambam. Here for official business—or have we walked onto something?" lips curling.

He pats the camera beside him.

"Wanted to get some testimonies. Already dropped by Ji Sung's office."

I feel Jimin's body close to mine, half angled and peering past me.

"Didn't want a photo of me?" voice lilting and light. Ears perking up at the sight of the three of them.

"Oh I already got yours at court. I like the strategy." The softness of the canine features in their biologies seem sharper in Bambam, a cunning intelligence in his eyes. That unspoken sharpness seeming to track whatever he's picking up as we move past their desks.

"The call for a nation manhunt?"

"Nothing wrong with a hunt. Time to turn the tables. Secret cards included." Eyes briefly flitting to the bundle in Jimin's arms.

He doesn't know... I know that.

Even Jinyoung and JB haven't been fully briefed yet about Amina having come into the station. But there's an awareness, a sharp curiosity in Bambam's eyes that lingers even Jimin quietly eases past. A silent unspoken understanding in Jinyoung and JB's eyes. A shared trust there.

Gaze flitting back to me.

"Well we could do with as many secret cards as possible. Your main article helped in that."

A proud, satisfied smile curls his lips and makes his eyes gleam.

"If you're calling for a manhunt, it calls for more numbers too Namjoon hyung. And that means you make the judgements and the calls. All of you. Who you trust and don't."

Jinyoung's eyes are clear.

"And that might mean playing with a gamble."

But it'll pay off. I know it will.

--------------------------

"Mina... Mina let's go to bed yeah?" voice soft as (Y/N) coaxes the slightly slumbering fox from her shoulder, hand smoothening over rumpled curls and ears.

Intelligible mumbles as she burrows further into her, sprawling into her side.

"Here's fine." She mumbles after a few more coaxing nudges, eyes barely blinking open, slinging an arm around her.

"It won't be fine tomorrow morning. My bed's big. Can tuck Kit up between us." Voice softly lilted, a deep fondness in her eyes as she slowly coaxes Amina up, hand steadying the sleepy shuffling wobble against her, her tail heavy and limp, the thick fur of it weighed down with fatigue.

Large ears folded over her curls as she blearily blinks around, searching for her kit.

"Mind if I hold onto her? Just until you get to (Y/N)'s room." Kook asks softly, nose scrunching when she gives a nod.

A huffed sound peters into a whined chirp, petulant and disagreeing when over her shoulder, without turning (Y/N)'s voice calls out.

"No sneakiness Mimi. No swiping kittens. No sneaking into bed shifted."

"But that's not fair—" aggrieved and wounded.

The soft light blonde fur of Amina's tail gives a pleased swish, picking up pace slightly.

Amusement in the slow drawn out syllables.

"Only space for one fox in her bed at the moment. I'm afraid that's me tonight."

"But—"

"I was going to offer our bed, but it doesn't seem like you'd want to." Hobi grins, watching Minnie's face shift—all pup eyes and pouty lips, a sweetness in the lilted hyung as he turns to face him.

"Trying to always sneak into (Y/N)'s bed, sneak under her shirts~"

"Didn't need to hear that... bed. Let's go bed." Amina mumbles, voice pitched louder, clearer, one ear perked at it before she lets it fold again. Ushering (Y/N) forward with her, half tilted to her still.

Her eyes briefly flitting to Kook who cradles KitKat to him, shiny eyes taking in the apartment, her eyes skimming with an unbridled curiosity and eagerness, soft meowls and babbles petering out softly as they drift further down the hallway.

"Head out the gutter Fang!" Jimin calls even as his eyes crinkle up, cheeks curving as he grins, fangs peeking past full lips.

"I would offer my shirts, but I don't like them very much." I laugh.

Watch a flash of heat in his eyes.

"And I would very much never deny the chance to face-plant into all that gorgeous skin..." a low, thicker heaviness to his words.

"But I dibs it!" Tae interjects with a chuff, darting forward quickly. Slotting himself closer to me, arms snaking possessively around me, head plopped on to my shoulder.

"You can't dibs on shirtless—" fur bristling slightly. Fangs snapping at air.

"I did. Just now. If you ask nicely I'll let you join. Otherwise I'll be taking your bed tonight." He states with a proud assertiveness, head tilted. Curls brushing against my skin, cheek rubbing against mine in a slow thorough scent. Chuff rumbling against my back. Soaking into skin, flesh and bones.

That contentment coming to sink heavy inside me. Warming me from the inside out.

"Like I won't be able to get a mate shirtless." Eyes flashing with challenge.

There's humour that curls Yoongi hyung's lips into a flash of fangs and gums.

"Whatever it is—I don't think I need to tell you to keep it quiet. And to respect the fact we have a guest." Eyes flashing with silent challenge, almost daring either orange to disagree.

"And to stay away from sneaking into kit's room."

Two pairs of orange ears fold, one striped, one not. Grumbled assent.

"You'll survive kits."

My hand drifts down to squeeze at where Tae's arms bracket me in, tugging him closer.

"Got plenty of eyes on them anyways~ and I for one don't intend on letting you out of sight or reach cub."

His chuff rumbles deeper, contentment seeping into his pheromones, into the sweetness of his berry scent.

"Done deal. I'm all yours."

-----------------------------

Of all the combos awake... somehow finding Kook with an apron tied over his pyjamas, with a shifted kit plopped into the apron pocket peering out with curious meowls wasn't the top of the list.

And then I spot (Y/N) on the counter, twisting as she rummages in the upper cupboards for something, hair mussed with sleep. They've not been awake long or rather not been in the kitchen long. A quiet contentment seeping off the two of them, voice slightly muffled.

"Wanted the chocolate chunks or the chocolate chips Koo?"

"Is there a massive difference in what can be used?" I ask curiously, peering past the doorway.

Watching with amusement as first two flopped ears go pop and stand to full alert, body half twisting. Then as (Y/N) peeks past the open cupboard door, ears flickering and swivelling slightly from between sleep-mussed hair.

"Joonie!"

"Hyungie."

Meow. Peeking past the apron pocket hem—eyes all wide and bright. Paws half curled

"Well Koo insists there is." Smile making her lips quirk.

"There is! Chunks go in cookies! Chips in pancakes."

"And what are you making Kook-ah? Turned into a baker first thing?"

"Well—I was hungry. And (Y/N)'s hungry. And KitKat's hungry."

"And I'm hungry?"

He beams, a wide scrunched grin that's all teeth and crinkled eye lines and floppy ears.

"Exactly. Hungry. So why not pancakes?"

"Ah! Chocolate chips then." Twisting back to rifle through packets, briefly disappearing out of view again.

"Got two sous-chefs?"

"Actually one sous chef, one nibbly taste tester. You could be both hyungie." Cheeks still puffy with sleep so that when he smiles it makes them bunch. Hopelessly endeared at the sight.

"Seducing a wolf over breakfast? Or courting and charming—does that make me your wingman Koo?"

He grins.

"What's to say I'm not willing or able to court, charm and seduce you both at the same time?"

"Ambitious?"

"Nope! I just know I'm all for equal opportunities."

Fingers dipping down to smoothen over the back of KitKat's ears, lightly scratching at the base, scent all cottony before he scoops her up, all wriggly paws and happy squirms and meowls.

Holding her out to me.

"Want some kit time before the others swarm?"

Watching me as I scoop her carefully, an immediate louder vocal meowl as she peers up at me, small shifted form stretching upwards, all grabby paws until she's bonking eagerly at my cheek.

The pure unhindered affection she always greets people with, the unhindered curiosity and excitement... so vocal and sweet and loving and trusting—KitKat's escaped.

And in it, she'll grow healthy and happy, and any potential trauma healed unconsciously because she grows up safe and loved.

"Wanted your hands free?"

"Too close to the stove." He murmurs, eyes soft as he peers at her, watches as she rubs her cheek against mine with a soft rumbly baby purr.

"How did Tae let you leave bed? You've got berry all over you." the slow swinging motion of her legs and then the leaned back appraisal is all invite, shifting her legs open wider, parting them so I can settle and lean against her. Ankles loosely locking around my waist.

Keeping me anchored to her. Eyes drinking in the sight of her. The scent of sea-salt and baby powder still clinging to her and a stronger, fresher layer of cotton.

"He's koala wrapped around Hobi now. And Hobi around him..."

She leans in, nose nudging against my cheek in scenting greeting, nuzzling against my jaw.

"There's the caramel. Smell all sweet wolfie." Lips pressing to my cheek. Fingers skimming down to briefly graze against my scent gland. Light cursory brushes of her fingertips and knuckles, easing out the loose languid pulse of pheromones. A delighted soft purr before KitKat curls closer to the crook of my neck, burrowing into my scent on the other side.

"So do you. So are you. Sweet doe."

"Always so sweet and charming Joonie. Sleep well?" fingers quietly sneaking around, skimming past my scent gland, trailing teasingly across my nape before gently poking at a flickered ear to see it perk.

Lips curving up when it has small fangs trying to nibble, paws trying to catch at her. Squirming eagerly in my hand.

"Like a pup."

"Good. Work so hard, should rest too. Should ideally have lie-ins for how much your brain works all the time. It needs its time to shut off and rest too." fingers gently skimming back to massage circles into my nape, a grounding pressure that makes the nerve cells under my skin melt. Curving towards her, hand drawing KitKat to my chest and the other settling on (Y/N)'s lap. Fingers skimming from her knee upwards, brushing over skin.

Feel the small rumbles against my chest, paws kneading at my shirt, cheek rubbing against the fabric with a contented meow.

"You can go back to bed hyungie. Or nap at least." Kook's voice calls out, my body turning instinctively, even as my head tilts, droops closer to the light skimming trail of nails light against my scalp.

"I'm not tired."

"Well at the very least couch— Kit would very much appreciate a wolf to sprawl and pad over." Lips curved with warmth, leaning in to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of my mouth, drawing back before I can turn my lips to hers.

Eyes sparkling.

"Not in front of the baby."

[.....]

"Sleep well Fang?"

"Like you couldn't imagine Jimin." A teasing lilt in her words, even as a faint lingering drowsiness clings to her scent and posture, eyes drooped and fluttering but peering at him from lowered lashes with a fanged, provoking grin.

Eyes glinting that much more awake at the snap of his fangs, the sight of narrowing eyes.

"Capitalised your mate, banished you from her nest and then spent the morning rolling around in her scented sheets."

A faint growl rumbles past his lips.

Smoothened out by the press of lips to one flickering ear then the other, quietened by a pout that eases out into a smile when (Y/N) presses close to him from behind, arms wrapping around him.

Eyes dancing with a mirrored mischief to the one she finds in Amina's eyes.

"She's just teasing you Mimi. Knows how possessive my fox is."

Hands snagging her interlaced fingers.

"She's exploiting my weak spots."

"Oh Jimin... I figure I'll learn much more when we work together."

There's a silent standoff between them solely in their gazes scouring at one another before identical fangy grins stretch across their lips.

Something that's only a precursor to how much damage and combined threat the two of them could... will pose the more we work together.

And as fox officers in their own stations—they held their own but put them together... combine them... then they would be even more formidable.

[......]

"Do you really have to go? KitKat can stay—you and KitKat!" Tae insists.

Over his shoulder Kook nods eagerly.

"Both of you. Hyung and me could make you apple pie."

A warring conflict in her eyes before she sighs. Carefully easing KitKat into the nearest arms—Jin hyung's. He all too eagerly cradles the slightly droopy kitten. A soft contented rumbly stream of purrs under the ministrations of long fingers skimming through her fur.

"I'd love apple pie. I remember Namjoon brought some for me when you made it last time, but I've really got to be getting back. Another time. Definitely."

"Sure? We'd all love it if you stayed."

"Another time. I might not be heading into the station every day, but I won't gamble with risks when it's not just me involved in them." Eyes containing a protectiveness, a harder strengthened edge to them even as she tugs (Y/N) into her arms to wrap her in a tight squeezing hug.

"I'll visit... can't keep me away. But I won't let anything complicate this either." Words murmured against her cheek, a soft nip before she draws back, ears perked.

"I'll be right back." Slipping away quickly, quiet treads of her feet before she vanishes down the hallway.

Reappearing minutes later, small, shifted and quickly trotting forward. Large swishes of her tail trailing behind her, ears all perked to attention.

She trots back quickly right up to (Y/N) again, paws stretching out to clamber up against (Y/N)'s legs, eager to be scooped quickly. Tail all swishy and eyes watchful and alert, skimming over all of us and a loud chirp as she peers past to look at KitKat.

"Ready to sneak out Lieutenant?" Jimin asks, holding out a large box, eyes crinkling as he looks at (Y/N) easing Amina down into the box, alert eyes peeking past the edge of the box, large ears all perked.

Watching as Jin hyung moves forward, scooping a steadily drowsy kitten in his hands, soft coos as he nuzzles gently at her, pressing a soft kiss between her ears. Hands gently lowering her down next to Amina. From how close I am to Jiminie, I can see the way her tail immediately drapes over her kitten, a paw reaching out to tuck her closer before circling around her.

KitKat almost immediately disappears under the thick fur of Amina's coat, swaddled away under the draping tuck of her tail, encircled by a mama fox.

A quiet chirped assent before her nose nuzzles at coloured patches of fur, scenting her droopy kitten who sinks further into sleep, drifting off before we even leave the apartment.

"Get home safe Mina... come back safe pups." Lips pressing to my cheek, then Minnie's. Soft nuzzled scents before she steps back, willingly sinking back into the arms that snag at her to draw her into his bracketing embrace, wings fluttering to tuck her in closer.

"Aye aye captain."

Her eyes sparkle with warmth.

"Good."

[......]

"You said I couldn't break laws. I'm a man of law Joon~ I know my rights. I know my limits." words rumbled with a hard coldness that's at odds with the pure molten fury in his eyes. There's a sharpness to the fangs that peer past sneering lips and a stiff towering authority in his posture. Staring through the one-way mirror. The space confining. Empty. Isolating.

If they were playing games then there were plenty that begun before either of us even put a foot into that room to begin the interrogation.

The games, the clash between mentalities, between perpetrator and police... it began with never letting them know how much you knew.

"What did you say to him?" watching the way the man on the other side of the glass profusely sweats. Skin slick with it, a nervousness thrumming in his posture. In the hunch of it, in the way his eyes keep flitting about, in the way there's a caginess to the way he sits. The way when I'd first come in to check—he'd been pacing.

A flash of heat passes through Jimin's gaze, the threat in them unmissable.

"Oh... nothing. He just now knows very securely that his fate lies in my hands. And it all rests on what exactly he will say."

I feel my lips curl up.

That glass is as much a way to see in as it is a way to keep Jimin out.

[......]

There's a grin pressed to my skin, to my jaw, to my lips. It's a feral grin, all sharp and hard and fangs sinking harsh into my bottom lip. Fingers curling tight against my shirt, snaking around to sink into strands of hair to yank me hard against the primal grin and harsh raggedness of his breath, to the low rumbling depth of his voice.

"Maybe you and Tae have something for watching."

"Maybe you get turned on knowing just how much you turn others on."

"Maybe you really need to let me sit in these interrogations with you. I've never hated and loved one-way mirrors more."

"I don't need direct supervision Joon—it's enough to get you hot and bothered behind the glass. I don't need to see through it to know it gets you just like this."

Words muttered between sharp staccato breaths, between low throaty groans and the rasp of his voice against the growl-laced timbre of my own. It's muttered between the snap of fangs at each other's lips, kiss bruising, hard and unyielding.

It's with the hard grip of his hand in my shirt and my fingers threaded through belt loops to tug him further into me. It's sharp bruising kisses with fervent urgency.

"You're a menace."

"As long as it gets me my answers. This... this is a bonus. But how about we make it fair. Next time Officer Kim going to make me all hot and bothered behind the glass?" a coy lilted honeyed sweetness that's molten desire, that's murmured with the slow drag of his lips against mine, with the trail of fangs against skin.

Pressing closer into me.

Tugging me further into him, welcoming the weighted press of my body bracketing his, bodies slotting together.

"What's the time?" I ask distractedly, head tilting closer to drag my fangs slow against his scent gland, fingers curling harder into his waist.

"Oh Joon—you're definitely going to be late to that meeting. And all it'll take is one look for everyone to know who kept you held up."

(Y/N) POV:

"I didn't know you'd been sneaking around behind my back tiger."

"I've done no such thing... you know I'm very open with my advances to each and every mate. And I'm never one for saying no to an audience or to watching a show myself." A rakish grin accompanied with a wicked, sharp gleam in his eyes. The curl and sway of his tail slow, the stretched out space between the threshold of my office and the doorway nothing but a simple space between us.

"Organising a trip somewhere?"

Watching as his face flits through a series of expressions...debating which one to settle on. The internalised struggle visible as he wars with what version to settle on.

"What trip?"

"The kids all seem to be planning for something. Care to share berry mine?"

A dithering slowness at the threshold of the room, my eyes flitting to the lazy appraisal in his eyes and that despite the loose tilted angle of his body he's got something tucked behind him. Out of sight.

"Depends. Will you close your eyes?"

"Sounds... sneaky."

"Sounds more like trusting your mate~ what's the worst I could do?"

"Well if I really think about it– the potential is endless. Could lock us both in, could suddenly tackle me, could swipe a bear cub and rush through the gardens–"

"Your faith in me makes me swoon. How well you know me, beautiful." a charming lilted playfulness in the rich low smoothness of his baritone.

But he raises his brows, waiting expectantly. Stare pointed.

"As brilliant as all those options sound it's none. Go on cub... close your eyes."

"Is this the point where I close my eyes and you vanish? Practicing your stealthiness on me tiger?"

"Oh sweetheart if I wanted to sneak up on you best believe you'd never hear me coming until I'd pounced."

"Talking dirty to me in the workplace?"

"I could do much worse. But here I am... behaving myself. So. Cub. Close your eyes." a tinge of amusement seeping into his words even as his irises darken. A flicker of hungry interest there. A promise. A temptation. A resistance of it there too.

Holding himself back from lunging forward or crossing the threshold until I listen.

Eyes fluttering shut.

"Good. Now no peeking!"

My lips curve.

"No peeking."

And try as I might– I can't hear him. Even with enhanced hearing, with the biological advantage of sharper senses, that same advantage is with him and he uses it. Lashes fluttering and body unconsciously shifting with an anticipation, ears flickering as they detect every other sound. The way the wind sounds outside and against the window. The sound of noise and chatter beyond the threshold. But no sound that actually lets me pinpoint where he is. Where Tae is.

No quiet treads. No rumble of his voice or chuffs.

And the scent blockers he so vocally despises and scrubs off his skin the moment he's done– those same scent blockers help him. A blankness.

The complete lack of berry and baritone leaving my senses keyed up and alert for a sound, for a scent I can't detect.

Ears flickering and swivelling in chase.

"Tae?"

Quiet. An absolute hushed quiet.

There's quiet and nothing until there's suddenly not.

Fingers brushing against my jaw, a soft light touch that makes my skin spark, goosebumps pebbling with surprise, melting to the touch. Head tilting to it.

Long, slender fingers skimming from my jaw to my ear to curl against my nape, sinking into my hair. Drawing it away and off my shoulders.

A slow gentleness. An indulgence in his touch.

I can't smell his strawberry sweetness, but I can sense it all the same; each inch, each nerve cell so consciously attuned to it that even in its absence my scent warms. Pools. Tries to push against the scent blocker barriers. To try chase the invisible, undetectable tendrils of his own.

"Stay still." voice a soft whisper that brushes against my temple, lips lingering there, the warmth of his body withdrawing the slightest bit away.

Body hovering close to mine, fingers ghosting along my side before they guide my hand to come to cradle whatever he holds out.

Eyes fluttering open at the low quiet murmur of my name, to the flower crown he holds out for me, my hands reaching to cradle it fully.

Eyes flitting from the flower crown to a soft curved smile, eyes warm and gentle and sparkling with excitement.

"For you. For my doe. For my cub. For our Flower Bambi. Seems fitting no?"

"Did you–" words dying on my lips, gaze rooted to the sight of the flowers arranged meticulously, so, so carefully. Leaves and stems interwoven with ribbons.

"Me. Hobi hyung. Koo and Jinnie hyung. Joonie hyung, Mimi... and he'll never say. But Yoongi hyung came up with the idea. And kept it all pretty and you know– alive and hidden. I don't think the rest of us are as good with keeping a secret."

"A pack courting gift."

"Because Spring is almost on the way. Days away if that. And our fawn loves spring."

The tips of my fingertips brush over soft petals.

"And we love our fawn."

I know that if I didn't have scent blockers on that my scent would be broadcasting at full force. But even then– the faint sweet trickle of pheromones that seep out, almost far too faint to be detected. But the wide boxy stretch of Tae's lips and the bright fangy smile... the deep rumbly chuff that emanates from the depth of his chest makes me realise otherwise.

Tail curling and swishing.

"You like it!"

"I love it. It's beautiful. You're all so, so..."

"Anything for our fawn." Voice dropping lower, a softer murmur. Eyes looking at me with an intensity and depth that tugs me unconsciously forward. Head tilting up.

I feel a soft swoop in my stomach as I look at Tae. At the brightness in his eyes as he looks at me. My eyes dipping to skim over the flowers, all soft blooms, some still buds that yet to open, stems intertwined with ribbons. I look at the flowers they've chosen.

"Lilacs, tulips and roses."

"Because." a small shrug, the curve of his mouth tilting up.

"Because?" fingers brushing over the petals.

Feeling his fingers skim across the back of my hand, loosely encircling my wrist to gently tug me forward. Thumb brushing in broad strokes over my scent glands, sweeping touches that spark tingles in their wake and leave a warmth to steadily seep further and further into my bones.

"Because even though I know you're my everlasting love, our forever love, you're also a new love. Everyone is my new love. Our pack is a new love." a smooth rumbling murmur, a honeyed richness that I know sweetens his scent and my own, even if it's undetectable at the moment.

"You're going to make me cry."

A small lump in my throat threatening to grow as his chest rumbles with a soft chuff, fingers curling around my wrist and tugging me closer. Carefully drawing the flower crown from my fingers, tugging me to him. Cheek resting against my hair.

"Don't cry, it's meant to make you happy."

"I am happy. But my mates are desperate to make me cry by being so sweet."

"Actually the intention is blushy cub all putty." he corrects, words rumbling through me as he curls his arm more securely around me.

"Trying to charm me into a puddle?"

"That's the plan."

My voice drops softer, quieter as my head tilts up to look at him, hand reaching to cup his cheek, fingers brushing against his jaw. Watching as he tilts to the touch, head turning, fangs gently scraping against skin, curling his fingers tighter around my wrist to anchor my hand there, lips trailing lower. Pressing soft pecks to skin before he leans his face to mine.

Lips slow and unrushed and indulgently sweet as Tae cradles me to him, arm bracketing across my back, leaning into me as I curve into him, bodies pressed close to one another. Chasing the slow unrushed indulgence of a small reprieve, of an escape within one another, a sanctuary that's settled in the space our bodies make for one another. Cradling him closer, lips chasing the berry-sweetness that pulses sweeter. Breaking the blocker barriers. Suppressors futile in the face of my berry mate.

"Thank you. For loving me. For courting me. For giving me happy tears."

"Always cub. Always want you happy. That's all we'll ever want. That's all I want." words murmured against the seam of my lips, eyes dark and debating, gaze flitting downwards before he surrenders to the closeness with a quiet exhale.

Fangs and teeth sinking briefly into my bottom lip, a faint sweep of tongue before he draws back, forehead resting against mine.

Lips trailing down to my wrist once more, lingering against my pulse. Feeling it thrum against his touch.

"Door's open." voice low and slightly gravelly.

"So?"

"Oh?" the corner of his lips quirking.

"I couldn't care less. Can't even kiss my mate after the gift he's given me."

"I don't like sharing if it's not pack. I'd rather not let others enjoy the sight of me enjoying my mate."

"Usually don't complain." I murmur, head tilting to peer at him.

"Usually the people I never mind giving a show to are our mates. Giving a show to just anyone walking by doesn't sit right with me."

"Possessive tiger." I tease, fangs nipping at my cheek, at the curve of my jaw, nipping at my lips, eyes dark and intense.

"Don't forget it."

---------------------

"Fawn fairy"

"Noona!"

"Noona's a princess now! Look...she's got a crown!"

"Do you think berry prince gave it to her?"

"Or twirly prince!"

"I did~" arms snaking around me, grinning wide as he peers past my shoulder, head tilted to mine.

"Fawn fairy's a princess. Extra magical." He adds, voice low and hushed, eyes sparkling as he takes in the hushed surprise in their voices and eyes, their scents strong.

"Which means her hugs are extra snuggly."

The barrage of small toddlers rushing forward is something Tae had been all too expecting, arms steadying my body to his at the pure rush of force that stumbles into me. Accumulated from several wide eyed peering hybrid kids looking up at me.

"Fawn unnie me me" hands stretching up.

"No me!" A young chipmunk hybrid insists, ears all folded and full puffy cheeks drooping, weighed down and eyes peering up at me with shiny softness. Fingers curling into my trousers.

He holds his hands up with soft implore, eyes shiny with a request I can't deny.

I could never deny any of them.

"This is all your fault."

"What? That precisely within three minutes you'll have enough hybrid babies clambered all over you and refuse to let fawn fairy leave? Absolutely."

"You're sneaky!"

"I just need you busy and not chasing me around the centre."

"Kim Taehyung what've you done?"

"Nothing...yet."

My eyes narrow at the grinning promise of mischief and secrets. Eyes gleaming with challenge and dare to try find out. Tail curling and swaying slow.

"Tae–"

"Can't have you being sneaky and undoing all my sneaky efforts."

"So you admit it."

"Never one to deny it~ I'm a proud sneaky tiger. Now you my flower cub are going to be very busy being thoroughly scented and snugged." Hands squeezing my hips before he nudges me closer, the ghost of a nip against the shell of my ear before he draws back.

"I think the more that you hug fawn fairy the more snuggly everyone gets to be."fawn fairy– the more you might discover her secret sweet fairy scent!" voice rising before he gives me a nudge forward, all the more eager to see me tugged into the fray.

"Tae I have to–"

"Absolutely not. You my cub are not foiling my plans!" he declares dramatically.

His tail is all swishy and his grin smug as he leaves, a mischief glittering in his eyes that's all too dangerous, all too promising and all too delighted in leaving me.

And I have absolutely no idea what he's up to.

[......]

"This feels... ominous." I say, eyes flitting to Ji Soo, to the flank of two felines, watch the near identically smug feline sharp grins on Hobi and Tae's faces as they look at me, bracketing the older wolf.

"Does it?" Ji Soo teases, a wry grin curling his lips as he tilts his head.

"Mates get upto things all the time?"

"Well if a cub sets a cluster of babies on me and my other mate... a certain kit keeps me from spending time with him, Min Junie and Ji Ah then something... something feels off." Eyes narrowing with faint suspicion.

"I won't lie. They were definitely up to something. But I don't think you'll complain." Ji Soo grins, good-natured and amused as he moves forward, hand squeezing my shoulder in passing.

Head angled to mine.

Words low.

"You've got good mates." A warm praise that makes my lungs and chest expand with a pride, at the quiet genuineness in his voice. In the approval in his eyes.

In the way their grins widen and his curves larger with an unabashed acceptance for them.

"Guess all that waiting was worth it."

"Trust me—I'm not the only one who was rooting it on for you. Left a few broken hearts." Winking playfully, grin lopsided and warm.

"Like?" Hobi asks, ears twirling as he speaks. But his eyes are intently trained on me, almost as if committing each shift in my expression. Quietly—that sense of anticipation thrums as the two of them look at me. An unspoken secret they hold over me at the moment.

"I've heard a few babies aren't all too happy about two princes trying to steal their fawn fairy. Mrs. Kim hears all sorts—you know that."

"Hey! After all that time..."

"Mrs Kim knows it all." Hobi's heart-shaped grin is infectious and Tae's own lips tug into a boxy fangy, tail swishing as he looks at me.

"Guess gotta keep charming mother hen." Ears all perked with the thought, gaze already showing how resolutely he intends to stick to it.

It never fails to make me pause, make my cheeks warm and heart ache with fondness for the way they intertwine further and further with the people in my life, whether that's pack or friends or the people I've worked with for years.

"She was theirs first. Got to keep your guard up kits. Maybe mother hen talks proudly about you. You just won't ever know it." Ji Soo laughs, words ringing with faint tease and amusement as well as fondness for the motherly, matronly figure of the hen who works largely with admin.

"She's been super busy recently." I note.

Simultaneously it causes a subtle shift in all three of them and Ji Soo moves to step past.

"I'll leave that for Hobi and Tae to explain why Mrs Kim is busy with admin these days."

Door closing behind him when he leaves, leaving me with two conspiring, grinning felines who look at me, a brimming excitement welling up in their countenance.

"What're you two up to?"

"Something~"

Purposely vague and obtuse about it.

There is a look of mischief on both their faces. And intensity in their gaze. Under spite the distance between us, there is a sense of being somehow caged, trapped under the weight of their stare.

"If you've got Ji Soo involved... then it's something big."

"Do you think you could let us give you another surprise?"

My eyes flipped from one to the other. Staring intently at my mates. A different sort of anticipation begins to bubble under my skin, an excitement and an eagerness that makes my scent try to push past scent blockers.

"If this is a way of wanting to see me cry... I'm not letting either of you into my bed." I warn.

Tae I expect the rakish gleaming hunger in feline eyes... seeing it in both however stirs something else, a heat that coils low. A thrumming quickness to my pulse.

"If I'm in your bed you'll be crying out for another reason entirely kit." A low hushed murmur, gravelly and dipping deeper. A sharp glint in feline eyes as Hobi looks at me, fangs peeking past heart-shaped lips but the effect... with that stare, with those words...

It's always a visceral, physical jolt to the system because it's Hobi, because of the low drawled confidence and promise in his words—that even if I haven't been with him, there's no denying he knows the outcome of it already. He knows he'll have me begging and crying.

And there's something dangerous and crackling in the way his eyes snare mine, refusing to let me look away.

I don't know what edge that I teeter close to—but it's a confusing, dizzying precipice... the danger their eyes dare and goad both electric and heady.

Something almost, almost, almost... not quite dangled there before it's reigned in. A silent exchange of words and promises in dark brown eyes as both felines exchange glances, curved fangy grins that are too damning, too mischievous.

"You need to stop." The admonishment breathy, hitching at the way his eyes spark.

"Fine... fine—I'll keep it for when I have time to prove those words."

"Did you take over Ji Soo's office to—"

"To try charm our way into your pants? That's a case of misconduct~" Tae lilts.

"Trying to get me fired before I finish my placement?" Hobi asks, eyes sparkling with mirth. Ears twirling.

"You! You're the one sabotaging it!" I laugh, eyes flashing, incredulous at the shake of his head, the wry grin that curves heart-shaped lips into something sneaky and mischievous.

The conversation going in circles, ones that they teasingly wind around me, full of laughter and tease and playful heat.

But then Tae leans back, rifling around the desk and tugs out a sheet of paper.

Emboldened with one word as he holds out the paper for me to see.

The large one-worded question bedazzled in glitter and sequins and every colour they could possibly wrangle onto that sheet.

Picnic?

I don't get to think over the word, over the question because no sooner than have I read it, lips parting with question—is the paper being set aside. Two felines making their way forward.

An eager bounding giddiness in their steps.

That earlier heaviness dissipates entirely, melts as if it hadn't been there. The sheer dizzying weight of whiplash from intense dark eyes to soft warm brown. Curled lips to a heart-shaped smile. Stiff towering to posture to holding me in front of him, hands squeezing mine, eyes intently fixed on my expression.

"Would you be our date to the Spring picnic?"

"We're... we're having one?"

"Of course we are! You do them every year don't you?"

I nod.

"Then why not this year?"

"I thought... I thought I wouldn't be allowed to... that it wouldn't be safe." Words trailing off at the flicker of something so achingly sorrowful pooling in their eyes, banishing away that achiness before it threatens to settle in either of my mate's eyes.

"We talked it through with Ji Soo, there's still plain-clothes surveillance officers stationed on rota that'll be there..." Hobi murmurs.

"And you're not a prisoner. That's the main thing. You don't and can't be locked away for living. You can't be locked away and hidden even at work—this is "work"." A more impassioned furiously vehement bluntness to Tae's words, eyes flashing with a sharpness that's directed towards the situation, towards the whole mess that has my life caged and slotted away behind four guarded, watched walls.

"Joonie will be there too."

The amount of managing and organising and thought and careful delicateness that must've gone into this sits heavy in my chest—a conflicting mix of feeling my spirits soar... giddy at the prospect, especially to something that means so much to me, to the pack I can't celebrate it with... and then there's that churning sense of guilt that makes my heart feel laden with a prickling sense of discomfort.

That all these hoops they have to jump through and loopholes they have to find—all this extra added responsibility is because of me... that thought makes my heart clench hard enough that I feel it ache where it sinks heavy behind my ribs.

I don't know whether to feel happy or guilty—and that conflict makes my words falter, stick in my throat. Looking at the two of them for simultaneously offering me everything and then knowing how much effort they've put in to make it happen.

"I don't—"

"You said the first day of Spring is really important to you! So—it's not the exact first day... it's the third! But... would you let us take you? To the Spring Equinox picnic? Let us have that with you?" eyes shining and hopeful.

Every word dries on my lips, swallowed down, forced past the hard lump in my throat. I love them so impossibly much.

Staring at the two of them with disbelief.

"You... you planned a spring picnic?" somehow still rooted on that knowledge.

"To mark the Equinox! It's no fun if it's too late—we just wanted the weather to be really good for it too."

"So you planned a turning of seasons picnic for me?" words hoarse, sounding strangled to my own ears. Hoarse. Words wavering as my voice dips, feeling that the sense of adrenaline that had me tightly coiled and wound makes my skin feel jittery, prickling with goosebumps. Heart aching—wondering how I could possibly love them more when I already love them fully.

"Well—the babies come too. And some staff." A playful wink, a conspiring gleam in Hobi's eyes as he looks at me.

Ears twirling.

"But for you. I'm a hard working student! Been reading cub's courting rules. Following the law and order of Binnie and Eunwoo's words rank high when it comes to learning you more. When it comes to trying to find ways of wooing you all the more."

It's the second time in the same day that that tight feeling in my chest and throat threatens to expands, spreading and unfurling to make my heart twist, gripping at it in an ironclad hold. A tight vice of emotion squeezing.

Lungs shuddering for breath when they expand, when with it my pulse quickens and the corners of my eyes sting.

"Noooo don't cry cub! You didn't like it?" rushing forward, eyes wide and imploring, hands snagging at me to erase the fraction of distance between us that remains. Pressing me close to him, arms winding around me.

My voice is muffled. But it wavers.

"You can't just plan a centre trip for me." But the words fall on deaf ears. Their grins infectious and proud and so, so pleased.

"Too late~ is it so bad that we want you to enjoy yourself... to not have to live a half-life. Really thought we'd miss or forget something so important to you?" and the fact that again—again it comes back to them putting me first.

"But still..."

"I told you didn't I? We want to do all the things you do, I know that it won't be the same, won't be how you might've wanted it without Binnie and Eunwoo there—" Hobi's voice is low, murmured over Tae's shoulder, a hand coming to brush over my ears, skimming down my hair and back.

My hands reach out to sink tight into his shirt, curling tight and tugging him forward too, feel the added weight as he drapes across Tae's back before circling round.

Winding his arms around me from behind to hug himself close. Lips soft against the shell of my ear.

Shaking my head.

"No. Don't say that. I've never had a potential mate let alone mates to share this with. I—it means a lot. It means everything." It means more than everything.

A soft grumbled sound that ebbs into a pleased purr. That rumbles gently against my back.

"I can't say I'm not very pleased by that. There's something special about being people you share this with—that we'll get to have this."

Head tilting back, eyes shiny and damp, peering up at soft heart-shaped lips that curve wide even as his eyes soften, turn gentler, fingers brushing against my cheek, tilting my face to his to nudge his nose to mine.

"Don't cry sweetheart. Tae doesn't hold secret meetings in the admin office or cleaning cupboards without seriousness! It had to be all planned before we could say."

"Hey! Now she knows where we could be if we ever go missing." Tae grumbles good-naturedly, smile all boxy and fangy when I turn to look at him, a wobbly smile curling my lips.

"Secret rendezvouses without me?"

"So we can be extra efficient sneaks." He grins unabashedly.

The two of them content to keep their arms wrapped around me, rumbling purrs and chuffs soothing that aching part of me that feels so overwhelmingly full, heart welling up and spilling over with pure love and appreciation for them, for the thought they'd put into it. For embracing part of what is me, what has been such an intrinsic part of my life and not letting that be overshadowed or forgotten. Even in the face of the unconventional, uncertain situation that I feel snared by.

"How long have you been planning this?"

"...some time." the answer is evasive, skirts round it, two matching bright grins.

Thumb gentle as it brushes across my cheekbone, skimming up in a slowly sweeping motion.

Eyes automatically fluttering shut at the gentle tenderness of the touch.

"Does have eye glands. So you can smell if they're happy or sad."

"I'm happy."

Nose brushing against Tae's, a soft gratitude in the brush of my lips to his, in the way I reach out to cradle him to me, hands against his jaw, his shoulder, angling his face to mine. Welcomed and drawn into the depths of deep warm brown eyes.

"I'm happy. So happy. My two kits. My sweet, sweet kits." Head tilting to brush a kiss against the inside of his wrist. Smelling the tell-tale sweetness of their scents, caramel and berries entangled together.

"You're our sweet kit—"

"Sweet cub."

"Hyung's sweet kit too..." Hobi continues with a bemused smile.

"Will you save me a chase?" Tae interjects. But there's a sharp glint to the gleam in his eyes.

My cheeks flush at the look in his eyes.

"It's a picnic with kids!"

"So? I intended it just to be a chase—cub where does your mind wander~" a glinting mischief flickering in his gaze.

"I know you sneaky, I know what you mean when you say chase—"

"Enlighten me kit? What does a cub intend?"

"A tiger and a caracal don't have innocent intentions is what I mean!" laughing as I try tug myself free from the snaring grip of two predator mates whose grips don't loosen, rather adjust and tighten- the press of fingertips squeezing, promising, a tinge of mischief and heat flickering through feline eyes.

"The same that you intend—" words trailing off at the press of fangs at the small slither of skin behind me ear, a shiver tugged out by the way the same pressed weight of fangs linger before trailing lower. Small nibbling presses of fangs and teeth that skim lower, smile curved against skin.

Hands tightening with warning, another hand—slender fingers firm and angling my face, tilting my jaw to him, baring my throat for the trailing taunting faint nips that ghost along skin.

"Cheaters."

"Don't like it?"

"The way you won't like this?" the nip of teeth, tongue flicking briefly against the hard curve of Tae's jaw, a rumbled sound that's not solely approval nor want, something heavy and demanding just as much as it's pleased.

"Who said I wouldn't?"

"You guys are menaces!"

"You love us anyways~"

"I do—I don't want to cause a workplace scandal."

"But it'd be so fun wouldn't it? Ruffle a few feathers... make a few jaws drop."

"You're trouble." I accuse.

"Surely you didn't expect me to stay in line? Can't tame a predator." A fangy smug grin.

"I don't think that's lack of trying many tactics." My eyes narrow.

There's a rumbled chuff of agreement, lips curving into a deep boxy slanted grin as Tae leans closer.

I can feel Hobi's lips curve into a grin against my jaw, nose brushing against my cheek.

"Can't blame a feline for being possessive—it's in our biology to thrive on..."

"Making people stare?" I state dryly.

A teasing nip at my jaw.

"To pride ourselves on any claims we leave and any we bear."

The swishing swaying motion of Tae's tail is a proud and confident, a preening satisfaction in his gaze as he leans closer, crowding against me so that in turn my body is pressed further flush against Hobi's.

The tip of his stripey tail poking at my side.

"So? Save us a chase? Or two~" Hobi prompts, grinning as he peers at me, feeling the bubbling warmth of his smile seep into me, fingers darting out almost reflexively to tug at the tail that teasingly skims against our sides, poking and nudging.

Large sprawling palm and slender fingers darting out to wrap around my wrist. Snagging my hand before I can give his tail a tug. Eyes pooling with amusement and dark rich molten heat that's betrayed in the sweetening thickness of Hobi's scent.

"At least wine and dine me before getting handsy with my tail... in public too. I didn't take you for an exhibitionist."

"You! You are!" tugging my wrist free with a disbelieving laugh, the grip only relinquished after a brief squeeze, fingertips branding their scent across my glands.

A wide smirking grin curls his lips, fangs pooling over.

Eyes dark and intense as he tilts his head in appraisal.

"It's nice to find a kindred spirit in my mate~" all maddening grin and lazy sprawling amusement settling into his features.

His tail tightens around my wrist, tugging it down, keeping it captive under the stripey band of fur that encircles my wrist and forearm.

"Kim Taehyung you menace—I'm not upto any exhibitionism... particularly not where anyone could walk by and see this even..."

"It's a hybrid centre sweet dear~ not anything that's unusual given our natures and then—given that undeniable need to try selfishly hog all the time and attention we can from our fawn."

"How did it go to making me smitten to trying to cause a scandal?"

"That's how it is—we'll keep you on your toes sweetheart."

"I'm learning that." More and more.

"So—keep your ears alert. Might not catch a predator or two sneaking up on you."

And I hear the primal satisfaction in the words even before I need to see the fanged grins.

"Now you smell a different type of sweet—"

"Hi sweet girl." Words murmured, hushed and low. A smile on a half-shadowed face as he peers up from his radio station set-up, fingers pausing, hovering over the keyboard.

"Hi Yoongi—mind if I come in?" even as I lean in past the doorway, the soft sway of his tail as he shuffles on his seat, adjusting for space though his hand loosely encircles my wrist, fingers brushing against skin before he tugs me closer.

Hands gathering me to him, drawing me onto his lap, arms slowly winding around me, tugging me to him. Body bracketing mine.

Voice a low rumble that I feel against my back, feel it sink into skin in the same way the warmth of his body does, the gentle brush of his citrus does to my senses, to my own scent.

"Smell nice." He murmurs against my nape, nose brushing against skin, a shudder wracking my body as his nose skims over the mating bite he's left behind. Healed. But that doesn't erase the weight of his fangs clamped down, the memory and sensation seared into memory, into consciousness that the brush of skin against skin, the warm ghosting brush of breath that elicits shivers and then the teasing—tauntingly slow press of lips lingering there threatens to make me melt. Body already loosening and unravelling in his arms.

"Cos of you. Didn't get to thank you properly." Turning to face him, his lips withdrawing only to replace the touch with the cradling hold of his hand against my nape, dark eyes looking at me with a warm lulling depth, dragging me deeper and deeper into their snared hold.

"Don't need to."

"I do. That beautiful flower crown—" watching as the curve of his mouth turns soft, stretching wide with a gumminess that makes my own lips curve. Leaning forward to brush my smile to his, slotting our lips together, fingers cradling his cheek. Tilting to him.

"That beautiful sweet heart of yours Yoongi will make me melt."

A soft flush to cheeks that bunch slightly, the peek of fangs past a gummy, gummy smile and the gentle nudge of his nose against mine, lips pressing to mine with an aching sweetness as his fingers flex and sprawl heavier against my nape, rubbing slow purposeful circles against his bite.

"I'll take a melty fawn." A quiet hushed murmur, laced with a growing smile he presses to my jaw, a lingering kiss that's all fondness and gentle touch, curved to me, nuzzling at me. Bodies slowly intertwining, shifting to face him, hand skimming down my spine and resting on the low of my back when I turn to settle more comfortably on his lap. Legs astride his.

"Need to leave my own bite to make you melty."

Lips against his jaw, the faint scrape of teeth, a small nibbling touch that has his citrusy-fresh scent blooming sweeter.

A soft low huff of laughter and the tilt of his head as he grants and welcomes my touch.

Fingers skimming over his shoulder, eyes drinking in the sight of is happiness—aglow even in the darkness of the room, unhidden by the shadows the lamps cast.

I can read the happiness in the gumminess of his smile and the depthless warmth in his eyes.

Can read it in the way he cradles me to him and holds me closer, fingers coaxing a looseness in my limbs from the slow brushes of his fingertips to his mating bite and the slow caressing touch of nails dragging light against skin, trailing up to my hair and skimming back down again.

"All yours when you decide where."

But even as my eyes skim over his skin, lingering over his features, I feel his own appraisal, see the glint of darkened pupils as his fingers skim from my nape, briefly, to drag his knuckles down the line of my throat, the hard press of his thumb against my scent gland.

"Maybe a necklace would've been better—but then again... your throat and neck's already so prettily marked up." Breath hitching at the firmer press of his thumb, coaxing out my scent for him, lips and teeth against skin with slow, unrushed movements as he chases the taste of my pheromones with his tongue.

Something so intimate about the slowness of his touch, a rumbling contentment that begins to form in the depth of his chest. A quiet purr that rumbles there. Growing slightly in volume, in depth of the sound as he nuzzles against my throat, the arm that bands around me tightening. A cradling hold.

"You felines will be the end of me. Menace mates." A rumble of laughter, a nip before he draws back.

Peering up at me.

A lazy grin.

"Oh? Certified menace? It means our relationship's getting deeper." A firm confidence there, a brash and mischievous look in his eyes.

"A badge of honour?"

"I mean~ I'm sure we're all certified handfuls but to reach menace level—that's an accomplishment."

"You're certainly more than a handful." Hand skimming down to squeeze at his bicep, feeling his laugh rumble through me with how close we're pressed together.

"Are you flirting with me handsy kit?"

"I'm appreciating you."

"Ah... is that what had you leave bed? Some late night appreciation?"

I hum, tilting my head to his, lips brushing against his cheek.

"Can't sleep."

His hand adjusts, angling my face to his, eyes searching and quietly asking.

I shake my head.

"Excitement now. I can't remember the last time I was at the park. Or the last time I could have something so mundane... so normal."

"Well you deserve it. Going to wear your crown at the Spring picnic? Fawn fairy? Flower Bambi?"

"Want me to?"

"I'd love it if you did." he admits with a quiet murmured admission.

"Then I'll send you lots of photos."

"Make sure you do. Flower Bambi—seemed only a fitting choice."

There's a lot of thought he's put into it. Even if Yoongi won't ever say, won't draw attention to it... I know how much quiet effort he's put in.

And as I look at him I can't help but lean forward.

Hands cradling him closer to me, cupping his jaw, fingers entangled in his hair and drawing his mouth to mine, eyes flitting down to his pink lips.

Lips meeting his with an aching want and thanks in them, chasing the softness of his mouth and tugging him closer. Mouth parting for him, tongue brushing against the seam of his lips, his name lost in the quiet low rough exhale against my lips. Swallowed by the unrushed sweetness of his lips. The gentler, impossibly tenderer touch of his hands against me, tugged to one another. Slow languidness in the way his tongue meets mine, a thorough sweep of possession through the parted entrance of my mouth.

A gravitational tug that presses my body closer to his, a warm pooling contentment that accompanies the light flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

"I think..." Yoongi murmurs between slower, lingering pecks. Between shared breaths and the brush of fluttering lashes and light fingers against my skin.

"You came to distract me."

My lips quirk—still feeling the press of his mouth to mine, still feeling the heat of his breath against kiss-swollen lips.

"Me? I'd never. I came to keep you company."

"We've had that happen remember sweet girl? Remember that if you keep me company as I work you have to be quiet for me kit?" voice dropping lower, a rasping bite to his words that drags the low timbre of his voice impossibly deeper.

His words tug to the surface viscerally heated flashes of memories burnt into the inside of my mind, re-branding themselves across thought and consciousness.

A subtle shift of my body that doesn't go unmissed, the hand at my nape tightening—a scruff hold that tugs me to him, the makes my body melt under the firm possessiveness of his touch.

"You're not even on air."

"Wouldn't be good for me unless we're on air—you know Tae did mention something about—" my cheeks warm, skin tingling with warmth, that pools into a heat that threatens to sweep through my veins and drown me in its entice.

I pinch at his side, feeling his laughter rumble through me, feel it in the way his shoulders shake slightly and the way his heat tips back.

But when he looks at me, face angled close—there's no hiding the heat and playfulness settled there.

"Your pillow talk needs to stop being about how best to tease me."

"Oh but why—it's such a turn on." Voice low and gravelly.

"If pillow talk turns how best to fluster or rile up a mate—why would we stop?"

I make a move to draw back, the loose scruff hold of his fingers curling tighter against my nape makes my body turn to putty, a protest slipping past my lips but almost lost under the rumbling purred contentment, under the faint amusement and tenderness in his quiet murmur of my name, fangs scraping light against the curve of my cheek. Nose brushing against my jaw.

"You're all so—"

"Attentive to our mates' pleasure? I can't think of a bigger turn on than knowing I know you so well." Though there's a smile curved to my cheek and a gentler warmth underlying the sparking insinuation of his words.

"You're not the only one—remember how in your rut all I needed to do was..." words trailing off at the bite of a growl that ripples through the air. Head tilting back, nape branded more firmly with the sprawling weight of his hand. My hand that had drifted down his sternum stills. Fingers curling tight into his t-shirt.

Fangs nipping at the shell of my ear.

Voice a rasp.

"Don't start sweetheart—because I'll have every intention of following through."

I feel my lips curve despite the way his words send sparked tingles of heat skim over the curve of my spine.

Leaning back, feeling his cradling hold loosen, fingers slipping to card through my hair—eyes dark and serious, holding my gaze when I tilt my head back.

"Is it something in the air? Changing of the season makes three felines so awfully bold. Dangerously so."

"It's your scent. Been smelling so sweet. What can a mate do?" a wry tinge of fondness and amusement and tenderness all entangled into the low deeper murmur of his words.

Gaze dropping to my lips, fingers angling my jaw so he can brush his lips featherlight soft to mine.

"Give in I guess."

His eyes turn impossibly darker.

Flash.

Then a grin.

"Good answer."

"Is there any development in the serpent's behaviour?" a tinge of fret bleeding into my voice.

Even if he isn't directly under my care, under my speciality of care—even though his treatment and care plan is so far and entirely removed from anything got to do with me... knowing what he's gone through, knowing what he's been a part of—that ache doesn't lessen just because I'm not the one in charge of his health.

"I don't know if it's better or worse if he's becoming almost passive... lax in care. He's not aggressive to the doctors but he doesn't seem to be bothered about getting better—his burns are healing. But then—he still won't see a trauma psychologist."

"He can't develop a dissociation from it! That won't help—it'll bubble up when he least expects it, it's not healthy, it's certainly not safe!"

"We can't rush recovery—we certainly can't force it... you know that (Y/N)." Ji Soo's voice is level and calm, almost to the point of frustrating with how controlled his demeanour remains.

Amina's ICU room is vacated, her and Kit's scents cleared and diffused and scrubbed free, empty walls and a blankness that couldn't ever tell who'd been inside. The alias she'd been kept under has been removed from the door front too.

No trace that a lieutenant had been here.

And even as I leave the ICU with Ji Soo, the listless emptiness on the serpent's face, on Jihyun's expression—disengaged and blank... as if nothing was processing, circulating the hallways and still at times—still until Ji Soo had coaxed him forward. The sharp narrowing of serpentine slits, the flick of tongue and sharp fangs glinting when he'd seen me, body stepping back—the signalling of my retreat calming a tension but not abating it entirely.

If he couldn't stand the sight of a woman, how could we even begin to help him process what he'd been through?

"Isn't there anything we could do?" a tinge of anguish seeping into my voice.

"We will do what we can. You can't get too close to the case (Y/N). You know you can't."

"But—"

"Jihyun is under the best care we can give him—but not every person tied to the case is your responsibility, not every person you meet is someone you'll be able to help. You have to remember that, you can't carry it all on your shoulders."

Hands squeezing my shoulders, head dipping to hold my gaze to his.

The age lines around his eyes are a testament to the experience he speaks with as he looks at me now, a firm gentleness there that doesn't quite settle the restless ache and helplessness to do something...anything to try help.

"He's hurting—"

"And we'll help him through it. You specialise in children hybrid care. So Ji Ah, Min Junie are under your primary care... and they're improving—their health is stabilising." Voice low and soothing.

Encouraging.

"Can't we get a male sexual trauma psychologist in?"

"We're the biggest and most successful hybrid centre for treatments (Y/N)..." he begins, though there's a despair and fear in his eyes that I can easily pinpoint.

Ji Soo has always been so easy to read—if you know how to.

And even though it doesn't even seep into his voice nor his body language, the silent anguishing worry in his own eyes are answers in multitudes. And affirmations to the fears I've voiced.

If we couldn't help him as a centre—with some of the best psychologists in the country here... then who... how could we help Jihyun?

"That being said—you know I don't front the adult hybrid cases... I do know they're reaching out for a male psychologist, maybe a criminal psychologist to help."

"He's not a criminal! He's the victim!"

"He's part of a growing case (Y/N). He's a crucial witness whose testimony could bring down the very operations and inhumanity of chipping hybrids with GPS tags like animals."

"His testimony could turn tides."

"If he's comfortable and confident in talking about how he was treated and kept. If he's able to process his own experiences as real then it makes a world of difference in a case as horrific and large as this one."

"But he's not." I murmur.

"He's not." There's a graveness in Ji Soo's face as he looks at me—both of us feeling the weight of the words.

It's a harsh reality that we're forced to confront but it's one that's been in the back of my mind for a long time that Jihyun can't testify. He's not in the right space to. It'd be cruel to force him to remember what he's not accepted. It'd be inhumane to push for a testimony he wasn't in any condition to give.

"His third-degree venom burns?"

"Healed up remarkably quick. But the physical injuries weren't the ones the doctors were worried about most."

"I could—"

"No. I mean this in the nicest of ways but as your boss I'm telling you this isn't your case, your responsibility. Focus on Ji Ah and Min Jun as your primary hybrids—there'll be some being discharged from hospitals and coming in for pscyh check-ups—could you be there for those?"

Mentioning the children that'd been saved from the barn, that'd been hospitalised around the country—around Seoul, where it was safer to divide and post different guards then it was to collectively house and treat them all.

I know the decision had worn on Ji Soo—I also knew it was one that whilst it tore at everything his instincts demanded, he had done it for their protection and safety.

"How many?"

"The children that were kept for significantly longer—we're looking at potentially more severe cases than Ji Ah."

I flinch at that.

An involuntary jerk back recoiling movement- ears flickering and folding, heart sinking heavy, stomach plummeting.

"She still can't—she still can't bring herself to open up fully..." knowing all too well her muteness was conditioned. That speaking had gotten her hurt. That she knew the cost and price of each word she had said. And decided to swallow them down again.

"Talking of—I've got her diary to give back."

"Anything from it?"

"I've taken scans. She knows who the mole inside the centre is—I'm near certain of it." a firmness in his words.

It stirs a nauseating feeling of panic in me, a tenseness that makes my instincts thrash at the implications that has then.

If she knows then they know her—the details and complexities of her case have been kept to counted few. But if she's gotten to see who it is—the chances are just as much that they've seen her, know her.

"Doesn't that put her at risk?"

"I've already talked to the officers on duty—I've talked about amping up centre security too and everyone's going to be trained more thoroughly and intensively."

"Are we at threat?"

His lips press together. Grim.

"It shouldn't ever get to that." A hard steeliness there. He never intends to even let it get close to that. But caution rather than being unprepared is better.

Even if the thought stirs a thread of sickening fear at the thought of how many kids there are at the centre.

"Expect intense training on the offense and defence—"

"SJ's going to go hard."

And it'd be for the better.

"His police training's going to pay off." Ji Soo agrees.

There's a difference in the air, in the atmosphere that deviates from our usual conversations.

Something weighted and contemplating... something that begins to assess and prepare for the worst with hope it'll never get there. But knowing the risks regardless.

There's less optimism fizzing through my veins. Replaced with a hardened determination.

A fierce tangible steeliness to protect Ji Ah from even the risk of threat.

There's an aching softness in Ji Soo's voice when he next speaks... though it does little to soothe the jaggedness elicited from the knowledge that Ji Ah knows the mole.

"We have procedures in place (Y/N)—you know that."

"I know."

"It won't get to that. This is one of the securest care facilities in the nation."

"It hasn't stopped us from having danger on the inside though has it?"

And even he can't muster an answer for that.

------------------------

It's approaching the end of the final stretch of winter when Tae decides there's no time like the present to start an impromptu chase—eyes pure tiger the moment his gaze finds mine across the large stretched hallway.

Pausing in his steps as my own feet come to falter.

I don't know what triggers it, don't know what instinctively makes my body freeze across the distance, silently gauging and calculating the gap between us. I don't know what about the sudden sight of him does to my biology, but it makes it freeze and it makes shivers dance down my spine, tingles of anticipation and heat sparking across my skin, limbs coiling tight.

There's nothing provoking about simply coming face to face but it's the quiet angled tilt of his head, the sweeping slowness of his stare as Tae examines the distance.

The slow curling sway of his tail.

Ears flickering, head angled towards Hobi who approaches him from behind, listening to him but eyes trained on me.

Too far across the hallway for me to pick up the subtle movement of his lips, a quiet indecipherable murmur.

And it makes not one but two gazes fix. Pin. Linger.

I don't know what it does to their biology.

I don't know what stirs and fuels their thoughts now that they've clocked off—the centre seeming so empty now it's in the dead of night... now that a lot of the kids have gone to sleep.

A quietness only beginning to settle when the contemplative gleam in their eyes threaten to disrupt the loose languidness in my bones. To tightly coil them up again.

It's unconscious.

It's some intrinsic part of my very biology as a doe that takes in the sight of two feline predators and takes a step back.

A hum of adrenaline beginning to sing through my veins, making my skin buzz.

And even across the distance—I see their eyes zero in. See the glint of fangs and the almost lazy, bored tilt of their heads—slowly assessing with what could be mistaken as disinterest if it wasn't for the way their ears flicker and perk to attention, or the way the slight angle of their bodies straighten.

Another step back.

Head angled at them.

Don't you dare... I mouth, lips curving into a breathless grin.

The dark glimmering interest in their eyes.

Knowing how empty the words are to me even as I say them.

That in the emptiness of my words—really I do want them to.

Every shift of my body, every step, every movement goads and challenges them in turn.

And it makes my blood sing.

But still I shake my head in warning, steps backtracking but not letting my eyes drift from theirs—though I don't think I could if I tried. Not that I want to.

And I can hear their steps the moment I slip out of sight—hear the low rumble of my name, a challenge, a warning... the only warning I get before their steps quicken—almost slight enough to be lost if my ears hadn't been alertly trained to catch them out.

I can hear the rumble of laughter and dangerous crooned murmured words that even though they're not pressed directly to skin I can feel regardless.

The growing rumbled near-growls of thrill and the prospect of a chase buzzing in their veins.

The thrill of being chased... hunted down hallways equally familiar to them as they are to me is disadvantageous to me and an advantage to them—navigating the twists and turns of the hallway with a familiarity and quite gait that's full hunter mode.

But rather than make the adrenaline course through my veins with the prospect of being trapped, caught by a mate—it makes laughter bubble up and well in my throat, the day melting away at the spark of amusement and sharp grins that I catch sight of, the playful swipe of a hand that I dodge—laughs ringing to entangle with my own.

This isn't a chase to hunt, it's playful—but it's a claim, nonetheless.

And I can hear it in the laughs mixed with low deep rumbles of their voices, deepening with a growled heaviness.

A toying edge to the rush down hallways—arms trying to snag me back, to press me to a looming predator.

My steps fumble as I round a corner, suddenly lurched to a halt, frozen at the sight in front of me. Laughter dying in my throat, smile freezing stiff on my face before it falls away entirely. The thrumming adrenaline that'd been coursing through my body, that'd been making me feel light and quick–darting away from not one but two mates in follow... that same adrenaline now makes my body antsy and restless.

And try as I might I can't tear my eyes away from the figure, feeling my stomach twist with discomfort, posture stiffening, a staggered step back when he takes a step forward.

His expression flits through a series of expressions, a transparent grief in dark brown eyes.

The ringing laughter and yells of my name behind me are loud and infectious but it's a giddy exuberance that I can't share in. A plummeting sinking feeling, stomach twisting violently as a pair of arms snag at me. Sensing the moment the grin freezes and then tightens. The triumph short-lived. The hold tucking me solidly rather than catching me with a claiming grip.

Voice low and careful, a rumble against my back.

"Everything okay (Y/N)?"

But try as I might I can't wrench my stare away, neither can the figure rooted to a standstill. Both of us trapped in a halted moment of time.

A twisting feeling of my heart squeezing so impossibly tight that for a few moments I can't breathe.

That it feels painful to even try air into my lungs until another voice low and firm and so gentle coaxes a breath back, then another—until my lungs abruptly loosen from the sudden confines they were trapped in.

Eyes rooted to the tall lion figure standing opposite me.

The agonised rush of breath I realise isn't my own, the presence of both mates a balm to the racing sharpness of my heartbeat, rather it rattles out of his chest as he stares at me. Looking both as if he'd seen a ghost and had the world teeter under him. I don't know how to feel when I see that look.

"(Y/N)..."

The quiet agonised sound of his voice, of my name makes my heart ache.

A sense of pain and want and loss and love.

"Baby what's wrong?" Voice a quiet murmur. Paired with the protective tug of a hand wrapping around my forearm to draw me back, trying to shield me behind him. But my body is rooted where I stand even as my hand comes to grip at Hobi's forearm.

Watching eyes flit down to the hand, a heaviness in his gaze. Agonised. Sorrowful.

And the tugging movement doesn't prompt my feet to move, the quiet beginnings of a threatened rumble press against my back. And it in turns it triggers a flash of defensiveness and warning in assessing lion's eyes.

"(Y/N)..." my name whispered, hushed and agonised.

And it tugs at me so deeply, so viscerally.

"Dad." The name stuck in my throat, choked on a sob, not sure whether I'm grieved to see him or pleased. Not sure whether the sight of him stirs more intensely the ache of that connection between the two of us or if it tugs and strains at that same connection to try wrench itself free of it.

My voice wobbles, that trembliness felt in every crevice, in every limb even though the ground's never felt more solid, the barrier of two felines trying to slot me behind. To ease me back.

Apex predators sizing up one another.

A guttural harsh growl and baring of fangs that makes my dad straighten, eyes darkening. The curl and antsy swish of his tail riled. Provoked.

"Tae no stop—Hobi..." tugging them back, easing back the hands trying to curve around me, body taking one stumbling step forward. Not sure what I want.

Legs feeling like jelly, a wobbled step that's precarious and taut with an ache that winds its tight constricting snare around my heart and his.

"Dad..."

"...hi (Y/N)." the words soft. Achy. So gentle and hushed. As if saying anything aloud will shatter whatever dizzying figment of thought that's been brought to actuality.

And time unwinds years out between us, but memories unwind a lifetime that stretches out between the two of us—unable to be crossed in this instance.

Too much ache and grief there.

Seeing him is a wound I didn't realise would be torn back open. I'd feared it, I'd feared coming back face to face.

I'd feared finding myself face to face to a relationship that's strained and crumbled and yet in its very nature can't be erased.

"No. If he's making you uncomfortable—then he needs to go." A hardness I don't expect in the usual sweetness of Tae's voice, the sharpness dragging his usual low baritone to a prickliness that's all bared fangs.

I watch as the two size each other up; lion and tiger.

Feel Hobi's stance stiffen.

Angling himself forward.

"I—" I begin, feeling helplessly disoriented.

Eyes dragged back.

Almost a desperation in the way I feel my eyes skim over him, remapping my mental recollection of him. Seeing the image of the father I have shift and change into the one before me now.

Lines and creases around his eyes and the curve of his mouth. Hair darker than I remember it—the brown of his hair and tail a testament to how much stronger he's become in his own right as a lion. I wonder how much power he's gained over the years. How many people he's brought down for it.

He used to smile a lot.

But there's only a tiredness that makes his lips twist downwards when he catches my scent—decayed and wilting.

His own deteriorating so rapidly.

Deflating.

"I didn't... you work here?" surprise and disbelief as he looks at me. Something dark and weighted and unfathomable in brown eyes. Something shadowed that sears his features. Because all this time he never knew, all this time I never told him.

The harder press of a hand encircling my wrist is firm, tugs me back with a quiet sound of distress and fret.

"Sweetheart let's go."

Eyes flit to me.

And as if only registering them now.

Fall to the two felines beside me.

And the two mating bites on my throat.

Linking the two.

And anguish fills his eyes.

"Mated... you're mated."

Because my world might've come to a crashing halt. But his lurches to a standstill when he realises that I'm far from what and who he remembers. And that despite it all—despite being bound by blood our lives... these years... have made us almost foreign to one another.

Because right now we're two different people than the versions of us that were left behind.

And I don't know how to process it.

YOONGI POV:

"What's wrong?" I ask, head turning to face the back, fingers hastily reaching for the seatbelt the moment I see how shadowed and withdrawn (Y/N)'s face is, how tight the expressions on Tae and Hobi's faces are, an antsy caginess to their postures, both of them sandwiching her from either side. Her eyes flit to the window—searching for something, I don't know.

The car clusters when Joon rounds the back, tugging open the passenger car door nearest to him, crowding against the space as he leans inwards, large frame towering, demanding the space it fills as he leans in. A rushed breathlessness to his expression that automatically locks my body up.

"Pup are you okay? Did anything happen—did Ji Sung say anything or—" words falling away when she flinches at the name, at the mention of him. The way it makes the two of them tense up beside her, body language broadcasting how cagey they become, their scents bleeding through the blockers—the usually sweet scent of nutty caramel and strawberries turned sour and burnt, rotting, decaying with their intensity.

"The lawyer? What happened (Y/N)?"

There isn't a silence in her gaze but there is a shadowed weight there and I can see it as it happens—trying to compartmentalise whatever she's processing, trying to sort it out into small pockets of space in her mind so it doesn't overwhelm her, so she knows what to say—almost as if she's filtering through her words at the moment. Deciding what to say, what to omit. Deciding what words are the right words.

And instead of speaking she just silently ducks her head, eyes containing multitudes, swallowing down words far too heavy for her to let sit on the tip of her tongue.

"Later... we can talk later. There isn't a rush." I murmur, seeing the way her body loosens slightly from the tightness that coils her limbs up.

A small nod, the flicker and folded droop of her ears. A tiredness there.

And so it's silent—a cagey, thrumming silence that's taut and fragile with nerves and pheromones, with scents seeping out to cloud the closed space, to the point where it begins to swell together—a thickening intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

And despite the winter chill still lingering at the end of the season, that bite of cold just at the cusp of winter to spring—one look at the slightly overwhelmed look on her face is enough to have all the windows pushed down. Cold crisp night air chasing away the tell-tale taint of worry and fret.

Desperate to chase it away, to make sure that the four of them don't suffocate under the weight of their own scents.

And oddly enough—oddly enough it's them who looked more keyed up than (Y/N) herself. There's a different sort of contemplative silence in her gaze, in her posture. She's processing.

But the others are wired up for some reason.

And every time I let my gaze flit to the rearview mirror, the image of two bristly restless felines curved close to her doesn't change. And each time my hand squeezes Joon's leg, it only abates the restless jogging motion before it restarts moments later.

And every time my eyes flit to the back, it seems like the others are more tightly wound than (Y/N) is. A cagey tightness to their limbs that's completely opposite to the listless inwards slump of her body folded in on itself.

Heart aching when we pass by a stream of streetlights, and it makes the ache in her eyes all the prominent and the glossiness that she keeps at bay.

Something's wrong.

Wrong because the blockers have worn off and everyone can smell how sad and wilted the usually soft floral sweetness has gone.

And no sooner than has the car parked do the seatbelts get undone with haste, the sound of the car doors being pushed open. No sooner does Hobi step out is (Y/N) right behind him... then in front. A quick brush of movement as she heads towards the apartment complex.

The unspoken call for her even though Hobi's lips don't part—eyes flashing with worry before he's hurrying after her.

"What happened?" my voice is hushed as I follow the others back.

There's a tight grimness around their mouths.

"I... I don't think I'm entirely sure hyung."

[......]

The restless, antsy jogging motion of Kook's leg bouncing up and down is what my eyes are rooted on. Watching the restlessness bleed into his movements. Face furrowed, eyes flitting down the hallway.

Voice low.

"I'm going to her."

"Jungkook-ah... she might just want some space." Joon interjects softly. Though sad, sad pup eyes look at Kook as he says those words. A jaggedness in Jimin's posture—looking moments from tearing down the hallway.

Tae looks agonised at the prospect.

At the thought of her holing herself away to hide, to shut out whatever had happened.

"You said she met her dad... usually seeing your parent again doesn't... it doesn't make that happen!" he gesticulates, an agitation that seeps into his voice.

Fingers tugging at a flopped ear—soft brown eyes dark with worry and fret.

I don't know what Ji Sung did, don't know what's transpired between the two of them, don't know why a bond that should be one of the strongest has crumbled between the two of them... why it's hurting her.

But the agitated worry in Jungkook's voice only solidifies the deeply rooted worry windings its snares tight...tight...tighter around my lungs. Constricting harshly at the thought of her being alone.

Teetering on a point of plummeting forward, headfirst, into an aching chasm.

But I didn't know whether being alone or being with someone was what (Y/N) wanted right now.

Didn't know how to unravel the tight defensive knots of control and forced down words and memories that she'd locked away so firmly.

I just know being alone to the confines of her own thoughts, to be dragged down under her own thoughts won't help her.

"You never said Ji Sung was (Y/N)'s dad. You never said that it'd lock her up to see him again. You never said he was coming to the centre in the first place." Hobi says, a hard protectiveness in his words.

Eyes scanning both Joon and Jimin. That urge to go to her amplifying all the more.

It's there—in the unsettled rustle of Jin hyung's wings, flapping restlessly to tuck and untuck behind him, in the quiet thumps of Kook's foot against the carpet, in the folded droops of ears tucked downwards, in the constant flitting of eyes.

Everyone aching to do something.

But knowing already that swarming her wasn't the answer.

It was far from it.

"We didn't know. I made sure Ji Sung wasn't going to be there during her shifts. I didn't know he'd visit randomly—I didn't know he's her dad."

My voice is low. Quiet.

"I don't want her to be alone. I don't want to force her to let one of us in."

"Hyung you didn't see her freeze... you didn't see her look as if she wanted to run but she couldn't even move." Tae's voice is a mixture of anguish and hard protective anger, eyes flashing with a sharp animalistic glint, fangs sinking hard against his bottom lip as he worries his tail between restless antsy fingers. The fur standing on edge.

"Was he a threat?" Jin hyung's finally speaks, having been silent from the moment he saw (Y/N) vanish down the hallway, slipping away with a silent hurriedness- an apparent need to get away.

And his eyes hold swelling waves of fierce sharp protectiveness—wings flaring at the thought, instinctively splaying themselves as wide as they can as barrier and shield, as defence to a threat he couldn't front off, a potential danger that he couldn't stand between from getting to (Y/N).

My throat tightens.

The beginnings of an ugly vicious snarl rumbling in my throat—echoed in Jimin and Joon. Kook's usually soft eyes hard and glacial. The tapping of his foot increases.

And he looks mere milliseconds from tearing down the hallway the more he listens.

"He wasn't. He looked and smelt as shocked as (Y/N) was. He looked—haunted." A hollowness in Joon's words. A silent brewing intensity in his eyes.

"I told him not to go to the centre unless it was a pre-arranged visit.. I made sure it was never when there was a chance to run into (Y/N). I didn't know she was hiding though—" the pinned back ears and growl lacing into Jimin's voice is harsh and agitated. And the tightness of his jaw, the hard grinding clench of his teeth and the way his scent sharpens—the air too thick to breathe in right now...

Maybe it was better for (Y/N) that she couldn't smell the pack right now.

It only serves as fuel to the quietly stewing fire that threatens to roar and claw everything aside and at the same time engulf everything in its wake.

"Father or not—if he made (Y/N)... he made my mate hide and run. He made her lock herself away even more when she's not been free for months to begin with. Father or not—he doesn't get to... he doesn't get to make her feel like her hurts have to be hidden or she can't even feel pain in front of her pack." A hard firmness that's usually so absent from the softness of Kook's voice makes itself known. A defensiveness that doesn't need the jaggedness of predator instincts to be amped up with, a growled fury that cares about no-one and nothing but (Y/N).

He moves towards the hallway, body tightly coiled—the lines and limbs of his body so tightly wound he looks moments from snapping and shattering with protective anger.

A hand reaches out for him—almost half-hearted in its attempt to reign him back.

Falling short before it reaches him. Before it even tries to tug him back.

"Jungkook-ah..."

"If she says no, if she tells me to leave then I will—but I won't let her hurt and hide as if her pain can't be seen. As if her pain isn't our pain."

A wounded keened sound—Jimin half-rising before a hand encircles his wrist.

"Namjoon-ah." His name plaintive and plea as Jimin's dark eyes turn to him.

"Let Kook-ah go to her. Crowding her won't make her feel better."

"But..."

"Space... she might want space." The excuse rattles hoarsely in my chest, drips from my lips even as my spine curves more tightly.

It takes every single nerve cell of control to lock up and hold myself back from rushing to her.

Heart tearing.

Hoping that at least—at least she'd let Kook in.

Don't hurt alone (Y/N)... let just one of us in.

------------------

Tired... tired eyes, slightly puffy and red-rimmed greet me. Slow flickered droops of her ears. Head lifting slightly from its drooped tilt against one of the balcony bars. On her lap Kook's eyes remains widely alert and watchful, fingers stilling in his fur.

But there's still something so achingly alone and confined about her posture, in the droop of her body so weary and lost. Even as Kook shuffles closer, tucked against her front. Nose nudging against her with a quiet comfort.

"Hi sweetheart." Voice a quiet hushed murmur as I linger at the threshold of the balcony. Watching the wind tousle her hair, watching the way her body remains curved against the edge of the balcony. The faint shadow of a smile trying to curve at her lips, but then they wobble, and the smile falls away.

"Hi Yoon." Voice holding a hoarse achiness. Red-rimmed eyes holding my gaze, watching as I take a tentative step forward, body slipping forward in a quiet seamless movement to get to her, sinking down beside her, leg nudging against hers and hand silently stretching out, palm up for her.

Heart squeezing tightly when she reaches her hand out, fingers slipping in to entangle with mine, a wobbliness to her lips, to her scent when I lace our hands together more securely and draw our intertwined hands to my lap.

For a while neither of us speaks. For a while her fingers don't brush across glossy brown fur—simply remained still and settled there. As if the brush of fur against her fingers and palm is all the reassurance she needs of Kook's closeness to her.

Because comfort doesn't need to be loud or declarative or fierce proclamations. It can be this. It can be just like this.

My instincts finally, finally feeling that contentment of having her here, of being able to see her—biology no longer keening with distress at the distance between (Y/N) and the rest of the pack. Knowing that maybe... maybe she needed that space... knowing that sometimes all you wanted, all you needed was a step back and air that wasn't clouded with unspoken thoughts and barrages of questions and scents betraying what words lips couldn't yet utter.

But seeing the red lining her eyes, the slight puffiness to them—I know she's been crying and that thought winds itself like a noose around my throat, a lump settling there at the realisation that she hadn't wanted anyone near, hadn't wanted anyone to see her cry. Seeing the glimmery dewiness in Kook's eyes as he peers up at her, stretching out paws as if to keep her sadness at bay, tucking to her in the same way I know that when she had cried—he'd held her.

But still I don't rush to tug her into my arms even if my instincts scream it, want it, crave the fulfilment of making sure my mate isn't hurting alone. Because her fingers lie almost limp in my hand and her body is still curved away. Despite Kook on her lap, she's still got a distance in her eyes. As if despite it all—some of that pain is still locked up tightly.

Voice a ghost of a whisper that's almost carried away with the wind.

"I just—I didn't expect to see him. I wasn't prepared to see him."

My fingers give hers a gentle squeeze.

"But you wanted to?" I nudge carefully.

She gives a loose shrug, the motion far more exhausted than it seems to the physical eye. Something strained about the way her lips tremble, the way she swallows a breath before she speaks.

"I don't know... I thought—selfishly I thought I'd ended that part of my life. I thought... I thought I'd cut out that part of my life."

Circling around even mentioning him as a person, as her father, as a part of her life she thought she'd left behind. That she didn't see in her present.

"Is he... did he ever—" the words get stuck in my throat, eyes rooted to the faint stain of tear tracks on her cheeks made noticeable when she tilts her head. Body feeling weighted and heavy, tightly coiled at the implication that maybe—

A pulse of sour sharp floral anise and a quick shake of her head dismisses that thought.

"Gods no... he just... there's a lot that can be done without ever lifting a finger... there's a lot a lack of someone can do you know?" On her lap Kook stills.

An absent father?

And my heart aches at the grief and longing that shadows her face, drags her heart further into despair.

"I just—he can't not be my dad and be in my life and then turn up when I've... when I've left him behind."

"Oh kit..." my voice quieter, fingers lacing together a fraction tighter.

"I didn't... I didn't mean to freeze...I didn't... I don't know how to talk to him or talk about him..." her frustration bleeding into the desperation of her words, in the way her breath quickens and her free hand curls and unfurls, drifting from fur, fingers pressing hard to dig in against her thigh. Head bent to duck away as if confronting her feelings and thoughts and voicing their complexities are something to be ashamed of. A nose nudges at her tightly wound fingers, a small shuffled hop as he edges closer, tilting a cheek to her curled fingers, settling his head into her palm instead.

Chasing the pain she was giving herself.

My hand itches to tug her other hand into mine, to soothe away the harshness of her fingers digging in tight. My heart aches to chase the confused ache of her voice, not entirely sure, disoriented and lost.

"You don't have to explain how you feel or justify it kit." When her lips part again and then shut. A helpless look in her eyes.

A bubbling welling wave of protectiveness that surges upwards, strong and powerful, at the sight of her looking at me, trying to will away the glossiness in her eyes as she draws in a shuddering breath. The cottony scent turns heavy. Nose twitching and ears drooping heavy as he scents (Y/N)'s distress—nose perhaps catching far more accurately and astutely than mine. Every note of it.

Dragging a hand over her eyes, head ducked to the side.

"I feel like sometimes I have to. I don't—it's not that I wanted to hide who he was... it's just that who he is shouldn't define me suggesting his name for the case. He is a good lawyer—sometimes too good." A tinge of bitterness there.

She doesn't doubt the person he is—the link he has to this case.

But she doesn't have any strong lies to the person he should've been to her.

"Being Ji Sung's daughter isn't where you begin and end sweetheart."

"Isn't it? If my name... I'm already in so deep. There's no turning back. There's also no escaping if it does get out."

"It won't. Especially if that's the opposite of what you want. Besides—"

Koo curls closer, pawing gently at her, at her fingers, nosing along them until she reaches a hand out for him, gently scratching at fur.

"Besides?"

"Don't you know? We'd do anything to protect you... from anyone, anything. Sometimes the protector, the carer—sometimes she needs taking care of too."

The scent of cotton blooms stronger. Laces together with the growing strength of my own pheromones. Brushes over the soured decay of her scent.

Softens it.

Doe eyes teary and uncertain.

"It is?"

And this time when my hand gently tugs hers, to draw her closer to me, to tug her into a hug. To tug her closer to me, arm wrapping around her until she's pressed into my side. Tucked here. Cradled towards my chest, her nose against my gland. Burrowing into me.

The soft hitch of breath and the scent of salt tinges the air.

A shuddery breath as a sob catches in her throat.

The faint dampness that presses to my skin makes my chest tighten painfully.

Never once letting go of her hand, cradling it all the more tighter. Squeezing tight...tight...tightly.

Vacant hand coming to tuck her closer, fingers carding through her hair, manoeuvring her body to mine. Body encasing hers.

A protective cradle.

Wishing I could hide her away entirely until this nightmare blew over.

This nightmare she was breathing and living every moment threatening to drag her into its bottomless depths.

I clutch her tighter, feel the small shuffle of movement as Koo burrows further into her too. Refusing to let her be taken further into it.

Feeling helpless—because how could I erase her pains? How could I erase the threat?

And as if my biology knows—my fangs ache.

For vengeance. For revenge.

For whatever bloodied cost it'd take to erase the sorrow from her face.

[......]

I can feel her stir in my arms—can feel her body press closer, nose pressing to my gland once more, a quiet rumble building in my throat—quietening and stilling the faint stirring motions. A soft breath that wavers and curves close once more. The scent of salt, of tears, still clinging to where they'd dried against my skin.

My arms shift, cradling her all the more closer, a sleepy shuffle of movement where Kook circles further against her, a hand still tucking him to her.

I can't risk stirring or moving too much, all too aware that a shuffled move could wake her, hand easing down carefully to draw back the duvet that'd slipped off us.

Lips brushing against her temple, a quiet nuzzle, gland still pumping out the steady pulse of citrus.

Feeling... sensing as she drifts off to sleep again. Body sinking back down, movements stilling and her breaths evening out again.

It's as I'm readjusting the blankets does Kook stir briefly, curving further into (Y/N)'s neck, burrowed against her, nose sleepily twitching. A small curled ball of brown fur.

Cottony scent brushing over her anise.

Intertwining with the blanketed weight of citrus soothing the two of them back to sleep, the soft loose grip of her fingers in mine unconsciously tightening. Letting that hold tug me to her, to them.

[......]

There's cautious eyes that flit to (Y/N) as she enters, and I notice the moment she notices.

Body tightening in response to the glances she feels flit and skim briefly before settling elsewhere—her ears perked stiffly. All too attuned to the hushed delicate silence.

"I'm not glass. I won't break." The murmur slightly subdued, slightly self-depreciating.

"We weren't—"

"Oh (Y/N)..."

"Baby..."

Multiple voices filling the silence, eyes flashing with concern, more than one pair of hands reaching for her, a tired, tired smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes, but she tries... she tries and it makes my throat tighten a bit.

"It's fine." Voice wavering slightly, looking slightly overwhelmed at the sheer concern and the way their scents thicken—betraying their antsy worry. Doe eyes filling with a lost look.

Jin hyung's wings flap restlessly, hands gentle on her shoulder, flitting down to gently tilt her jaw up, dark eyes searching and searching—soothing that ache of not knowing before his lips curl into a small, small gentle smile. Dark obsidian wings fluttering before they flare and curve forwards, wrapping her into his arms, hiding her away in a cocooned hold. Head ducking closer to murmur quietly to her.

He holds her like that for a few long minutes, holding her even as his wings still, still cocooned away and tucked from sight, eyes flitting up to silently get the cluster of fretting packmates to step back, to give her air to breathe.

And when she resurfaces, wings slowly unfurling, brushing against her sides, Jin hyung still doesn't let her go, hands cupping her cheeks, thumbs smoothening over skin, nose nudging gently to hers. Foreheads touching.

"You're not fine. But that's fine." Voice so soft, featherlight, lips briefly, fleetingly brushing across hers. I watch, with an aching tightness in my chest, as her hands flit up to grip tightly at his wrists, desperate for an anchor to ground herself too, so she's not lost in the tumultuous upheaval hellbent on tearing her apart. As if holding on... if she holds on tight enough she won't be lost.

But we'll hold on.

"It is?"

"It is. We don't need you to be 100%, we need you to know it's okay to not be okay. That you can have a hard day, a hard week, a hard time—but we'll be here through it anyways." Voice whisper soft.

"Even if I withheld Ji Sung is my dad?" turning in the cradle of Jin hyung's body to peer anxiously at Joon and Jimin.

Who look like it tears at them to physically reign themselves back.

"It doesn't change anything except if you want me to kick his ass." Jimin says vehemently.

It startles a shocked wobbly laugh from her before her smile curves wider. Not as strained. Trembling but genuine.

"You'd take on a lion hybrid who happens to be my dad, who could probably lawsuit you for several laws if you kicked his ass?" she repeats, a fond glossy sheen mingling with the relief and comfort that settles on her face.

Joon grins, dimpled and fangy.

But his eyes are dark and serious and his voice a low finality.

"If we have to then so be it. The badge would let us get away with it."

"Kim Namjoon are you saying you'd abuse your right as an officer for some personal justice?" a trembly wobblier laugh. Eyes shining.

"I do believe I'm a bad influence." Minnie interjects. A proud gleam of a smile.

Something settling in his mint scent, in the way it does to nutty caramel and berry. The way it does in cotton and forest and vanilla. The same way it does to my scent to see her smile settle. Sniffing slightly and blinking back the glossy sheen from her eyes.

"The worst."

-------------------------

"Hyung is she in danger?"

"Is she at threat from Ji Sung?" Tae reiterates, voice firm.

"She's not." But the answer falls from my lips as a rumbly exhale.

"But."

"But letting her be, letting her be away from Ji Sung is good. It's healthier for her to have that distance."

"But what do we do if he turns up unannounced? What if that happens and we're not there?" Hobi sounds anguished, fretting particularly because he knows his time at the centre is coming to its end soon. That we don't know when this ends and we don't know if continuously coming face to face with a family member whose hurt her.

"Well he shouldn't. And I know Joon and Jimin are going to say—but I feel like that it won't happen just because they tell him not to."

Tae's fangs glint, flashing as they snap at air—a threatened, angry growl rumbling in his chest.

"She shouldn't have to."

"I know but despite instincts, despite biology, despite it all-- (Y/N) can hold her own. She's not glass, she won't shatter, she's stronger than we know. If it comes to it—and there's no buffer, she will be fine. She will be." I repeat firmly, willing it because I couldn't bear to see that helplessness in her eyes. Because I couldn't bear the sight of the misery in her eyes that I'd seen there last night.

Because she didn't deserve to hurt. It didn't matter if she could endure it. She shouldn't have to in the first place.

"I don't like him." voice sharp. Bleeding with a frustrated anger- laced with a low rasping growl.

A collective firmness against Ji Sung because his role in the case didn't decide how we felt personally—a searing rage of protectiveness that threatens to become violent and ugly.

Something inside me throbs with the ache to sink my claws and tear down anything and everything that was a potential cause of distress for my mate. Our newly mated kit. The bite mark at her nape had barely healed and its newness would take a long, long time to even begin settling.

So this threat, this other feline, this lion who holds a blood tie to our kit but who exists as such a cause of distress to (Y/N) makes my blood burn, feverish hot, something akin almost to an anger likened to the ferociousness of rut. It feels like it'll consume my veins with the intensity of it.

And it takes such control to not become an animal when it comes to (Y/N), when it comes to protecting her.

----------------------

For a series of days, when her sleeping habits dip back into being unsettled and restless, there's a routine re-established. The familiar circling of our lives in orbit of one another when the rest of the pack is asleep. The same cycle of a familiar soft stream of knocks on my studio door before it's eased open and doe eyes, far too bright and alert for the hour, peering past the doorway before she slips in. The same cycle of cradling her close, body imprinted with the weight of her own, hands almost restlessly fidgeting until that knock comes and my arms wrap around her. Tucking her to me. The same cycle of kettle on, mugs out, teabags chosen, water poured, wait-wait-too hot-don't touch, carrying mugs, tuck fawn kit and hand over mug, before that quiet fretting of hours comes to quieten. Shadowed eyes weary and tired but frustrated too.

Bit by bit barriers crumbling—hushed insecurities and doubts murmured, lost almost in the curling wisps of steam, hand tugging her closer until she's pressed against my side.

Heart aching but standing firm.

You are more than what your father's title makes him.

You're more than enough.

I won't let them drag your name into this.

You don't have to ever see him again if you don't want to.

And on more achier moments—fragile tears welling in achingly sorrowful doe eyes, wet lashes blinking.

"I know it hurts—I know it hurts more because despite it all, despite whatever's happened... he's still your dad isn't he?"

"I hate him." words achy and raw.

"I know."

For a few nights (Y/N) can't sleep, a restlessness that quietly flickers through her eyes, that keeps the fatigue lingering in her bones even if her mind continues to whir awake.

But that restlessness shifts.

It slowly turns... it shifts from the incident with meeting her father, a worry she lets be quietened—or rather it gets quietened because of her growing worries for the kids.

"We're having the kids from the barn—the ones who were hospitalised in secure care around the city come in for psych checks."

"Are you fearing the worst?"

A shuddery breath, fingers curling tighter around her mug—uncaring of the heat that must be branding her fingers, my tail nudging against her, brushing against the back of her hand.

"I know it'll be the worst Yoongi. These kids had been there for god knows how long but we know because there's no missing cases on them that it's likely a lot of them were bred in captivity—they're the result of... of hybrid breeding."

Her scent sours and with it my scent plummets—turned hard and decaying at the words—at the way her eyes glimmer, an aching despair there. And with how close she is to her case, with how close she is to the kids and how personal the case is becoming, day by day dragging her further into its poisoned, toxic web.

I set my mug aside, hand reaching out to draw her closer, fingers brushing over her nape, the thud of her mug being set down and fingers reaching for mine, holding my hand tightly.

"Can I help?" can I make it even a tiny bit easier for you to breathe, for you to sleep without being plagued by your thoughts and fears?

Silently she tilts her head to rest against my shoulder, drawing her body closer to press into my own/

"I just want it to be over you know? I want them to slip up and I want it to end."

"And then you'll be free."

That idea dangles so fragile, so delicately in front of her and yet with how deeper the case grows it always seems to veer just out of reach, out of her grasp.

"...you know..." voice trembling soft. So quiet I don't know if she even intends for me to hear.

I make a small hum low in my throat.

"I'm terrified... I'm terrified I won't know what it feels like to be free. I'm terrified I'll drown in this case and not know—"

Every single nerve cell thrashes and keens for her, revolts at the thought, of the trembled wavery admission of her deepest fear.

"(Y/N)..." my voice aches, trembles. Scent sharp and sour all at once, fingers weaving tighter with hers, gripping her hand tightly, arm adjusting and retightening its hold on her. Lips pressing firm to her hair.

"I want it over."

"You'll be free. And if I can do anything to help it—I'll do it." voice trying to be firm, but it aches alongside her and when she presses further into me. Scent so, so miserably sad and wilted.

----------------------

A different knock on the door—a heavier rap of knuckles against wood before the door eases open several moments later. A different pair of eyes peering at me, eyes that are already buzzing and awake, hair and ears tousled.

Ducking smaller as he slips into the room, pyjamas loose and draped over a broad frame—making him somehow look smaller, a pup—all big soft eyes and tucked tail as he carefully slips in.

My body pushes back from the desk.

Eyes already searching him.

"Hi pup."

"Hi hyung." voice a low careful rumble.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Didn't go to bed yet. Was reading up on scorpions."

My head tilts—his eyes catching the slight confusion in my expression.

"We let them stew for a while—they're solitary by nature so what better for them then keeping them separately but in confined, cramped prison cells?" a thrum of sharp satisfaction in his words.

"Breaking them into a sweat?"

"An instinct tells me they'll be quite proud of their deeds, but it doesn't hurt to break them first. They've been getting under our skin, only seems fair we return their favour."

There's a hard anger there but even so he tilts to my touch, a quieter rumble as my nails gently scratch at his scalp, carding through his hair.

"Is that why you were awake—finalising interrogations?"

"Finding ways around it—finding ways to use their biology to get the answers I need... you know scorpions aren't actually violent if they're not triggered. That means I should hit them where it hurts, strike at them so they strike back."

Letting me lead him to the beanbags, sinking down into one and shuffling along so he can gesture to the space beside him—a soft implore in softer puppy eyes. And I've never been able to say no.

"It feels like these interrogations is about hitting them hard. Closing any gaps, any loopholes, any ways they could try twist their confessions."

He hums in agreement, a low rumble at the back of his throat.

"Well we got Eli to give a statement, though she wanted to be anonymous, and the link between scorpions at the shelter and then Ji Ah—it's too much of a coincidence."

"Your gut tells you it's them doesn't it?"

He nods tightly.

"And what does your training tell you?"

"That if they're stinging a homeless woman, if they're staying in a shelter for cover after attacking a child... they're low-level thugs. They're brute force."

I nod.

"They're linked but they're not the people running the trafficking rings. But if they're hiding in shelters where ID isn't needed—"

"Then their tracks have to be covered up by themselves."

There.

"Hit those points. They're just brute force, they're having to protect and cover their own backs—what was it you said? They attack when struck."

A firm grimness settles on his features and a darker, heavier carnal anger fuels the brewing intensity of his eyes. Pieces slotting together into place, further solidifying his course of action, his way to get the answers he needed.

Joon's body loosens slowly—bit by bit the alertness in his body unwinds, lets itself settle. And it's as he's sinking into the beanbag—still wide awake but calmer do I catch the fading winter-crispness on his hair and skin. That even though he's warm, a furnace during these months, there's a lingering brush of cold clinging to his scent.

"Were you outside?"

"Went on a quick round the block."

"Just the one?"

"...a few times."

And I know it's his protective herding instincts kicking in, as well as the urge to protective and shield the nest, the pack. Those instincts that can't be tamped down because of the increased intensity of the case.

And I know it's been particularly strong since he'd gotten those letters.

Claims so vile and goading and taunting—because (Y/N) wasn't theirs.

"Guarding?"

His shoulders slump, a loose faint smile that curls his mouth. But it's somehow both sharp and tender at once.

"I know we're safe. But it helps when I'm awake—to just be extra sure."

"Next time—take me too? I know it wasn't just a few rounds. I wouldn't mind giving you company pup." My voice dips softer, fingers brushing down against his nape, lips curving into a small smile when his hand tugs at my forearm, steers me closer so that we're both facing one another. So that rather than sitting down, our bodies lie facing one another. My tail brushes against his leg before loosely draping over his side, fingers lightly skimming over his hair.

Endeared, when his nose nudges mine gently.

"You always do so much hyung. You always listen. You always work hard. You also don't like being out when you could be warm and cosy."

My cheeks warm.

"I could if I wanted to. And next time my pup goes for a walk around the block—I want to go too."

A large hand wraps around my wrist. Thumb brushing against skin. A slow sweeping touch that leaves the scent of forest dew clinging to me.

"Then I'd like that."JOO

------------------------

It's always daunting starting something new. It's always daunting meeting new people. It's always daunting to step outside your comfort zone.

"It's daunting to break out of a habit, of a cycle, of a normal. But you'll be just fine—more than fine Yoongi-ah." Fingers smoothening over errant strands of hair, the delicate featherlight brush of fingers tucking a loose strand behind my ear.

Tapping my cheek lightly.

"Pretty kitten." Relishing in the way it makes my cheeks and scent warm.

"I don't know how to talk to new people a lot." I admit quietly.

The same fingers that'd brushed against my cheek skim lower to cluck me under my chin, tilting my face up.

Soft searching brown eyes quietly, carefully, tenderly stripping back the layers, peering right through me—seeing that insecurity laid bare.

"New people are daunting."

"You meet new people at work every day." I accuse lightly, eyes narrowing.

"But they come into our bakery choosing whether or not to stay, whether to order, what to order... whether they'll like it, whether they'll come back... that's a daily cycle. But we stick with what we do, we know what we make is great and we just leave it at that... that it'll work out the way it will. That's business."

"But this isn't..." voice dipping quieter.

"It's not. You're about to do something, be a part of something that does more for people. You're leaving the safety and security of your own show to work with helplines and response services. You're working with other shows."

My fingers absently worry over the tassels of the scarf wound around my neck, smoothening over the inexplicably soft material that's been so thoroughly scented; the very fibres of the material woven with vanilla and cotton.

"What if it doesn't work? What if I can't help? What if no one calls in?" ramblings forcefully cut off with the briefly firm press of lips slotting to mine, wings fluttering as Jin hyung angles my face to him. Drawing back with a warmth in his eyes, thumb brushing over lips that tingle under his touch, that feel branded by the brief firm press of his mouth silencing mine.

"Don't wear yourself out thinking of what might not happen. Focus on how good this'll be if even one tip comes in that can help. Focus on the good work you're doing listening to them."

I nod. Lips turning in silent askance, rewarded with the softer brush of full lips skimming my mouth, a hushed whisper that brushes gently against me.

"Now listen to hyung pretty kit and know that I know it's all going to work out."

I nod again, his forehead coming to rest against mine. Fears quelled and silenced. Chased away with the soft flutter of wings.

[......]

"The aim of this combined effort is to combat the national rise of attacks against hybrids—primarily kidnappings and trafficking."

There's a small cluster of humans and hybrids alike, different teams, different shows, different roles—all gathered to help push the national awareness towards it all.

In the grander spectrum of things, in comparison to how large the population of Seoul is—it seems remarkably small... but it's about making larger pushes with smaller waves.

It's about people doing what they can, where and how they can.

"We've decided to extend helplines and have them also a connection away during shows- particularly early morning and late night ones."

A hybrid rights activist slightly down the table nods— tapping at the pile of papers in front of her.

"The protests that were already in place are going to be more targeted towards generating awareness for the missing hybrids. We have a march for—"

"I'm sorry but..." I cut in, watching eyes flit over to me, curiosity and confusion lingering there.

Regardless they turn their attention towards me, ears and eyes alert.

"I know a march is an honourable act of respect and awareness, but I think that doing that shows we've assumed the worst and taken those hybrids for dead. I think— a march is also far too of a gentle response for the brutality and cold-blooded inhumanity we're seeing."

"That might be so, but we can't have the city descend into chaos."

"It's not about generating chaos. People need to feel anger more than sorrow. They need to feel rage and injustice more than they need to remain silent in honour." I reply. Words ringing with a sense of déjà vu, to something Namjoon and Jimin had said—a snippet of a conversation I'd heard. That this is why the case was beginning to be televised, why it was drawn attention to in the first place. Because a hunt could only end when they were caught.

A few brows rise even as the air swells with assent—I can smell the way pheromones change and shift, the way they dip to match the sharpness of my own citrus. I can't reign it back—I don't want to reign it back.

"Yoongi-ssi, you run Honey FM don't you?"

I tilt my head, eyes dipping towards the man.

See the quiet flutter tuck of white wings—not anywhere near as large nor majestic as Jin hyung's.

It feels almost apt that the person to try soften my approach be a dove hybrid.

"I've listened to a few shows, they're very supportive and comforting... we're also one of the helplines that'll operate with a morning show, but don't you think this message—which is..."

"Nothing but a national consciousness of it, people need to be awake, and they need to know the truth. As hard and difficult as it is to digest." I state. There's no negotiating with the delivery of truth. With the cruel reality of it.

"That it might be a forceful push that could eventually lead to riots or violence? We can't push for anger, what if families who've lost their own were to want their price in blood?" It's ironic that of course a dove hybrid would be one of those to push for peace. How symbolic.

And though it's right, it's entirely wrong in this sense, in this situation, in this case.

My voice hardens, a sharp rumble of a growl lacing into each syllable—instincts and biology kicking in firm.

Eyes holding his levelly. Because I wanted its price paid with blood. And I had no shame in admitting it.

Unrepentant as they drag slowly over every single person in this meeting.

"The law grants biological justice in hybrid laws. And besides—I couldn't be closer to the thick of this if I tried... but you don't see my claws stained in blood... yet, do you?"

--------------------------

"As you know there's been a rise in hybrid kidnappings around the city and the case has been made public. This show still operates as a helpline or tip-off service is you know anything that might help with locating some of these missing people or with helping prevent it happening to anyone else."

There's messages of sympathy, of strength and support that filter through the radio's message board, there's ones that come through with tips for which streets have a lack of street lighting. Messages of help come through but my eyes scan for any that could be tip-offs, any that could be helpful.

Pen jotting down recurring places that keep coming into flow—maybe they could be helpful to Jimin and Joon. Pen stilling at the flashing indication of a call coming through.

"We have a caller coming in." fingers switching the speaker on, connecting the call to the mainboard.

"This is—" voice cut off by the ragged rush of uneven breathing.

"There's lots of them. In suits. They come... they come to choose which toy they'll be taking, and they have inspections..." voice trembling, wavering with pure unbridled terror.

Immediately my body locks up, jerks upright, a stiffness as I keep my gaze rooted to the sign of the connected call, of the audio filtering through.

"Are you okay, where are you—" voice aiming to be level, to remain calm even though the sharp spike of fear so crippling and raw causes their voice to shake. It's a younger man—if that. Something so distinctly vulnerable and young in his voice that makes my gut twist.

There's terror and a hurriedness in his voice as the words spill from his lips.

"Stop stop I don't—there's no time. Every single day they keep shipping us off like we're..."

My blood runs cold. Sharper and harsher than thick icicles driving themselves to the hilt, embedding themselves in my lungs. Makes it hard to breathe for a second.

Fingers fumbling as I try to catch his voice, try to catch any sound—ears stiff and alert.

"Listen you're going to be found but I need you to hold on, I need you to survive."

"It's hard... I can't... I can't call the police. I can't—" there's the distant sound of noise, there's the agonised sound of shakier breaths and a thud.

Before the audio comes out muted, distant.

"...don't need to get the shipment containers ready yet. They're not fully broken in."

A vicious laugh. Delighted and feral. Unease tightening my spine, skin prickling, the pressure of claws trying to tear through the surface of my skin, to twist and gut the owner of that sound. A distressed sound—purely biological

A snarled rumble leaving my lips.

The sounds continue to be muted and it's a long, long while before the voice returns. Shaky and quiet.

Begging.

"Please... please just... I want to go home. I want to live."

And almost as if it's too much to risk, too much on the line and far too much to sabotage already thin chances of survival, the line clicks, and a deafening silence falls afterwards.

I don't process the messages that stream in afterwards.

I don't quite process the next few minutes—a blur of hurried movements and jagged words scribbled hastily onto paper, the click of the recording sign switching off. The sound of the chair roughly being pushed back.

I don't process getting out of the room, hand roughly shaking the nearest to me.

Dark eyes jolting awake.

The scent of mint sharpening, flaring.

Hand tightening as it grips at me.

"What—what's wrong? What happened?"

"A call... a distress call. I got a distress call from a hybrid."

(AND HERE IT IS—I SWEAR I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS CHAPTER TO TAKE FOREVER BUT THERE WAS JUST WAY TOO MUCH HAPPENING ALL AT ONCE SO I WAS SWEPT INTO THE CHAOS! IT FEELS LIKE IT'S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I WROTE AND IT REALLY HAS—SO I FEEL LIKE THIS CHAPTER MIGHT FEEL A BIT RUSTY SHODDY—PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Midiiplier DID I DO THE DISCUSSION RIGHT?? THERE'S GOING TO BE A LOT OF SUBPLOT BEGINNING TO BUILD AND LOADS OF ANSWERS BEGINNING TO COME TOGETHER SO KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED~ ANYONE GUESS THAT JI SUNG WAS HER DAD?? THERE'S A WHOLE OTHER STORY THERE—HOPE IT DIDN'T THROW YOU OFF T__T ENJOY!)

Borahae 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3