Chapter Text
There's nothing that surrounds them but the sounds of shoes against the carpeted floor. The two men in front of him, tall and broad enough to actually block his sight, converse in low voices but he does not listen. He might’ve heard his name in between those fleeting sentences but it doesn’t make his heart thump nor does it make his eyes water.
Jimin stares at their backs, hands crossed in front of him as a rope binds them together. The material digs on his soft skin, ensuring a mark that will not leave for days. But that doesn't make his gut churn nor does it restrict his throat. He walks and follows the men, another pair right behind him, ensuring he’s covered in all angles. As if he's a menace personified—a small, lithe body that’s capable of overpowering their built frames, bodies twice his size, arms that can easily pick him up and throw him to the nearest wall. As if the sweet scent of jasmine with tones of honey wafting around them is a threat.
Park Jimin remains silent.
The men stop at two large wooden doors, the steps receding into nothing but silence.
Jimin draws in a short breath. For a moment, he closes his eyes; lets the silence settle until it is ringing in his ears. The men are muttering under their breaths, probably waiting for orders to open the door that will surely lead to Jimin’s fate.
Briefly, he wonders what their pack alpha will do to him. Will they throw him back to the hell he just escaped? Or will they make a new one for him right inside here? A face of a woman, whose eyes were brimmed with tears as she fuels his non-existent strength with faith and belief that once powered him, flashes in his eyes. Jimin’s fingers curled until his nails dig into his palms, the sting bringing him back to reality.
The doors open.
The alphas start walking in and Jimin trails behind silently, head ducking down in a manner he can’t stop himself from doing.
Different scents assault his nose with varying tones and depths but the smell of sandalwood and bergamot overpower them all. It radiates dominance and power unlike no other and Jimin doesn’t need to guess; doesn’t need his eyes. Their scent could have been pleasing, something good—questionably too good—if it isn’t laced with dark potency that has the wolf in him whining, ears flat on its head as it ducked down impossibly lower.
They’re angry.
Mad. Livid.
It doesn’t surprise Jimin anymore.
His eyes focus on his black sandals, toes starting to dust pink from the lack of covers as winter approaches near. The floor is a dark brown of wood, furnished and free of any stains. It’s almost entertaining enough for him to focus on, forget—
“Alpha Jeon, he’s here.”
—Jimin wishes he can feel it again—the surge of power and strength he once felt as he bravely trekked the woods with inexperienced feet and eyes; how his heart burned with the determination to keep his word and return like he promised to; to search for the one he’s been waiting for half his life, the only hope anchoring him amidst the ruthless winds and cold nights embracing him since his birth.
The pack alpha doesn’t respond but the two men move aside until Jimin is revealed from where he is hidden.
He remains to bow his head, eyes on his toes.
Bergamot grows thicker, Jimin thinks he can choke on it.
“Omega Park.”
The voice that calls upon him is way deeper and huskier than the first man that spoke. Shivers run down his neck to his spine, his skin prickling at the tone used. Alpha Jeon might have as well just spat it at him from the way the anger radiates from them; almost as if saying his name alone was enough to disgust them—enough to taint them with his filth.
Jimin fights the urge to curl on himself.
“Yes, Alpha Jeon.” He replies, voice soft and unwavering.
There’s silence.
Until a rough hand cups his jaw harshly, fingers digging on his skin and he’s forced to look up. His jaw aches from the tight grip but it isn’t the one that makes his heart thump for the first time since he’s entered the village. Gray eyes widen as it meets dark black, pink lips parting until a deep guttural growl erupts from the alpha’s chest, reverberating around the whole room.
The man that sits on the center chair is broad and tall—way broader and taller than the ones Jimin has seen. He’s wearing a dark brown tunic that exposes his thick forearms, the right one adorned with black ink. Symbols Jimin doesn’t recognize, trail on his skin up until where the fabric covers the rest. The shirt teases a firm, sculpted chest, clavicles, and a smooth neck. His hair is slightly longer, slicked back with some sort of gel that exposes his face clearly, only that one stubborn strand falls on his forehead. His face is hardened with a prominent jaw line—clenched hard—high cheekbones, and lips that are parted slightly in unexpected surprise.
And their eyes meet again.
His eyes are bright and wide and it reminds Jimin of a doe; could’ve imagined the way those eyes will soften from its harsh glare on him.
Jimin could have called him beautiful.
But his breath hitches on his throat, knees threatening to buckle as bergamot and sandalwood grows stronger and stronger that everytime he inhales, it’s the only thing that he smells; the only thing he sees; the one thing he feels further into the bone-deep instincts that’s calling for him. His wolf perks up in attention, tail wagging as it whines, recognizing what just happened when their eyes met; what the alpha just did. Jasmine rolls off him in sweeter tones, mixing with the alpha’s musk perfectly that the omega in him notices in delight.
Warmth blooms in his chest, blanketing him better than his thin cotton cloak ever did. Blurred images flash after the other—too quick for him to start labelling but amongst the faces, there are two he recognizes and one of them is the very face he’s gazing at now. In that quick imagery, doe eyes look down on him with warmth, lips stretched into a smile that exposes a set of teeth comparable to a bunny’s. It swirls away with the rest of the images, colors blinding him until there is nothing but darkness once more.
He watches as the alpha's eyes turn gold for a quick moment, a growl louder than before escaping his chest. He sees the way the alpha sits up straighter, one hand gripping the arm rest with a white-knuckled grip, the other slowly reaching out for him as if in a daze. He watches as he struggles with himself, irises flashing from black to gold and gold to black.
Tears prick at the corner of his eyes.
For a moment, Jimin thinks the goddess has finally taken mercy on him. She’s finally heard his prayers, given him the person he’s been thinking of since he was little; a partner that complements him well. For a second, he thinks everything will be alright. And for that quick second, Jimin listens to his wolf when it says, we are safe. Alpha. He’s found us. We found Alpha. Imprint. He imprinted—
“No…”
And whatever connection they had is broken, an unconscious whimper leaving past Jimin’s parted lips.
His eyes drift back to his toes, the warmth now gone as his skin feels colder than before.
“I—” Jimin shudders, the first lone tear dropping to his cheek, “I’m sorry.”