The stage lights cut. The music faded. And my chest... it wouldn't stop trembling.
Not from nerves. Not from the screaming crowd. But from something deeper. Wilder.
I smiled through it. Bowed with the girls. Let Lulu sling an arm around me and yell "WE ATE THAT!" loud enough to make Camille flinch.
But my skin?My skin was buzzing.
I tried to brush it off. Blame the adrenaline. The heat. The weight of debut. The fact that millions of people were about to stream our song for the first time ever.
But that wasn't it.I knew that wasn't it.
Because something else was happening.
Dawn—my wolf—was pacing.
Do you feel that? she whispered.
That pull? That pressure? That... scent?
I licked my lips. My hands were shaking. I clenched them at my sides.
Something sharp and invisible had hooked into my spine mid-chorus—some magnetic pulse that hadn't let go. It tugged me toward the wings. Toward the dressing corridor. Like something familiar—too familiar—was waiting just around the corner.
My breath hitched.
Kael.
It felt like that day. Like the second before he looked at me and said the words that shattered everything. It was the same pressure. The same ache. But worse.
Because this time, it wasn't pain first.
It was longing.
My body turned instinctively. I didn't mean to look. Didn'twantto look.
But I did.
And standing in the corridor—shoulders tense, eyes wild—was a K-pop idol no THE k-pop idol, the lead visual and rapper of Trojan. Cold. Distant. Jaerin Seo, Beautiful in a way that never felt safe.
And my mate.
I knew it like my body knew how to breathe. Like the marrow in my bones had been waiting to realign for this exact moment.
Our eyes met.
And something inside me cracked open like thunder behind my ribs.
My feet rooted to the ground. My pulse screamed.
I couldn't move. Couldn't think.
His gaze held mine like a hook. No expression. No words. Just heat. And disbelief. And something that looked dangerously close to agony.
Dawn whimpered inside me.
It's him.
We knew he was here.
We just didn't want to believe it.
But he's ours. That's him. That's the one.
My breath caught. I took half a step forward without meaning to.
But the girls were still around me. Rhea was laughing. Aya and Yuna were whispering about vocal monitoring. Camille had already started fixing her eyeliner. Nevaeh was checking her reflection in her phone.
None of them noticed the way I'd gone perfectly still. The way my hand trembled at my side.
But Jaerin did.
And I saw the exact second he flinched.
The exact second he turned his body halfway away like he wanted to run. Like seeing me—really seeing me—was too much.
Don't let him leave again, Dawn cried.
Not like Kael. Don't let it happen twice. Go to him—
But I didn't.
Because his expression said everything.
He looked like a man who had walked into a fire and realized too late it still burned.
My chest twisted.
And then he turned.
Walked away.
No words. No nod. Not even a twitch of acknowledgement.
He just... left.
And I stood there.
Heart breaking all over again.
We're not worth being loved by a mate Dawn.....they always leave.
I pressed a palm to my chest.
Felt the rhythm there go uneven.
I didn't know what he was going to do next.
But I knew one thing.
That was him.
-----------------------------------------------
The dorms had finally gone quiet. Camille had curled into her mountain of silk pillows, murmuring in her sleep about Dior and heartbreak. Lulu was sprawled sideways across her bunk, glitter still smeared on her cheekbone, sleep-talking in a mix of Spanish and nonsense—something about unicorns, fan cams, and forbidden snacks. Rhea snored like a war drum, one leg slung dramatically over her comforter, a book still open across her chest.
It should have been comforting. Safe. But I couldn't sleep.
Not after that performance. Not after...him.
I didn't even put on a coat. Just grabbed the nearest hoodie, padded barefoot through the darkened hallway, and climbed the stairs on silent feet until I reached the rooftop door.
It clicked open under my hand with a soft hiss. I stepped into the night like it was the only place I could breathe again.
Seoul stretched out before me—an endless wash of lights and glass, like someone had scattered stars and skyscrapers across the horizon. The city never really slept, but up here, above it all, it hummed quieter. Not silence.
I crossed to the edge of the roof and pressed my palms to the cold concrete ledge. Wind whipped my braids back, kissed my cheeks like mama did when I was still a pup and upset.
My heart still hadn't slowed. Not since the moment our eyes met. Not since his presence hit me like fate made flesh. Since his soul reached for mine, and then—recoiled. Like it had never happened.
He ran, Dawn whispered inside me.
Like Kael. They always run.
I swallowed, jaw tight. "It's not the same."
Then why are we up here?
Because I couldn't stay in that room. Because his scent lingered in the backstage corridors like smoke. Because the bond had sparked like lightning in my blood, and walking away from the stage had felt like tearing off skin that wasn't mine to lose.
I turned my gaze back to the city. But every reflection in the windows, every flicker of light in the distance, was just a placeholder for the one thing I couldn't unfeel.
And then—I wasn't alone.
The door clicked again.
Footsteps. Slow. Reluctant. Familiar.
I didn't turn. Didn't have to. I knew those steps. Knew that scent. Knew the way the air changed the second he entered it.
Jaerin.
His hoodie was dark, sleeves pulled over the heels of his hands, hood drawn low. He didn't speak. Just moved to the far side of the rooftop and leaned his hands on the railing, body stiff like he was holding himself together with sheer will.
Like even breathing the same air as me was too much.
We stood like that for what felt like forever. Both of us silent. And then—"I didn't know you'd be up here," he said, voice low and raw. The sound of it scraped across my chest.
"I didn't think you'd want to find me," I replied, eyes still locked on the skyline.
He finally turned to look at me, and gods—those eyes. Deep, storm-dark. Too much and not enough all at once.
"Dal did," he said after a beat. "My wolf. He doesn't listen well."
I exhaled. "Dawn dragged me out here too. Guess we're both bad at pretending."
The wind curled around us like a third presence—shoving silence into every word we didn't say. But the bond pulsed like a second heartbeat between us. Thick. Present. Unignorable.
He stepped closer. Not near enough to touch. But close enough to feel.
And the bond hummed—like music beneath my skin.
"It's not supposed to be like this," he murmured. "I'm not supposed to feel like I'll die if I don't go to you. I'm not supposed to want you like this. I can't.."
He stopped. His jaw locked.
"I already have a path," he said. "I've made choices."
My chest cracked at the edges. "So did Kael."
That made him go still.
"Who's Kael?"
"He, was supposed to be my mate, but he rejected the bond."
He turned his head sharply, gaze cutting.
"You were rejected?" His voice was quieter now. Darker. Like it tasted like blood to ask.
I nodded. "He chose someone else. And I survived it."
Jaerin looked away. Swore under his breath. Ran a hand through his hair like it hurt to hear it.
"How in the world- Why in the world would someone reject....You.....You're..."
He doesn't want to hurt us, Dawn said softly.
But he will. If he keeps lying to himself—he will.
Jaerin exhaled sharply. "I've been fighting this since the first time I saw your face. Since your voice wrecked something in me I didn't even know I still had."
His fists clenched. "But Dal... Dal doesn't care about my logic. My career. My reasons."
"Your wolf?" I whispered.
"Yes." He looked at me then, and the honesty in his eyes nearly undid me. "He's yours."
I wrapped my arms around myself, but it didn't help. Nothing could stop the ache that lived in that space between us.
"Maybe it's not about fate," I offered. "Maybe it's about choosing someone, even when it's hard."
He stared at me.
And for the first time—the mask cracked.
"I don't know how to choose you," he said, barely above a breath, looking away. "Not without burning everything else to the ground. I was rejected....too."
The words landed in my chest like a brand.
I wanted to scream at him. To beg. To run. But I didn't. I stood there. Still.
Because maybe tonight wasn't for choices. Or declarations. Or tearing down the walls that held us apart.
Finally, he asked, "You felt it. On stage?"
I nodded. "It felt like my ribs forgot how to hold me."
"And you?"
He laughed once. Bitter and broken. "I haven't breathed right since the day they said your name."
We stared at each other across a chasm built from hesitation and fate and the pain of things we could've been if life were gentler.
The wind blew. The city shimmered.
I didn't move toward him. And he didn't move toward me.
But the space between us ached. It howled.
And the wolves inside us pressed their noses to that invisible thread, eyes closed, hearts open.