“I’m Junghee,” she says, eyes shining in the lights’ reflection. “I am so happy to meet you.”

Kibum smiles shyly, realizing that his solitude with Eunsook has left him awkward and clumsy; only a few weeks locked up with an Alpha and he is already forgetting how to interact with an Omega.

An unbound one at that, he is surprised to note, thinking ownership of the salon would of course be held by an Omega of a certain age and status. Yet here stands an Omega not much older than himself. Young enough, sure, to be still unbound without many questions, yet on the precipice of it becoming a scandal. He takes in her features in the mirror; her hair long like Eunsook’s, though pale where his Alpha’s was dark, Junghee’s glimmering as though it had been spun of gold. Kibum’s fingers brush absently at the collar at his throat, noting the absence of one at her own neck. The length of her hair should have been signal enough that she was unbound.

“What are we thinking?” she asks, her fingers running through the strands so haphazardly chopped around his head. “Your appointment says a trim?”

Kibum nods, not sure what that means but trusting that Junghee does. He hadn’t told Eunsook he had never entered a salon in all his years as an unbound Omega, his hair only having been cut a handful of times by the sure hands of his grand dam.

“Actually,” Junghee starts, her hands falling to her sides and a soft smile gracing her lips. She looks at him in the mirror with a gaze that he is surprised to note is sad. “A lot of Omegas, especially those early in their bond, come here saying they just want a trim when what they mean is that they’re not sure what they want, what they want is to please their Alpha, or they just do not know what their options are. If you’re open to suggestions, I have some ideas you might like.”

Kibum shifts in his seat, unsure. “My Alpha made the appointment. I don’t really. I mean-”

“What did they say when they made the appointment? Why did they make the appointment?” Junghee looks at him quizzically in the mirror as Kibum pauses to think.

“Oh,” he chuckles, embarrassed. Overwhelmed by the salon, being without the scent of Eunsook for the first time in weeks, the way his collar still felt foreign at his throat and finding himself alone with an Omega whose status he doesn’t understand had made him forget. “I’m here because I’m unhappy with my hair.”

“So, whatever you want?” Junghee asks, her eyes brightening along with her smile.

Kibum’s shoulders rise as he tilts his head in a smile of his own. “Yes.”

“Well, then,” she starts, fluffing her fingers through his hair, “this is what I’m thinking.”

The chair she sits him in is black and faux leather and in front of a black ceramic basin. He sits and she helps guide him as the chair is leaned back until his body is nearly parallel with the floor. Though she had warned him before she began, it is a shock when there is warm water running over his scalp. After the immediate tension of surprise, he begins relaxing and even smiling at how good it felt. She talks while she works, little trinkets of information that don’t require any response which is good because he isn’t really listening.

Everything feels so good, especially when she begins to massage the shampoo into his hair. It smells of honey and some flower he can't identify, and he is nearly asleep by the time the water turns off. A towel is wrapped around his head as she slowly sits him up. The walk back to the chair is quick and bright and he smiles in return at the grin he finds her with in the reflection of the mirror.

She ruffles his hair once more and then begins snipping away at his meager strands with silver scissors as she simultaneously combs through them with a black and pink striped comb.

“I really think you will like it,” she chatters warmly, “you have good bone structure. Any cut would look beautiful on you.”

Kibum hums noncommittally, watching as pieces fall to each side, slipping down his caped shoulders. Junghee asks him questions about himself as she works, questions about his hobbies, his interests, things he enjoys doing: nothing about how he feels being a newly bonded Omega.

He had told her how he enjoys gardening and that he will have a garden of his own soon, how he had had one with his grand dam. When his eyes tear up, she pauses to press a palm to his shoulder and murmur, “I am so deeply sorry, Kibum. She sounds like a beautiful soul. You were lucky to have had her love.” He nods, takes in a shaky breath, and sighs when she continues with the styling.

Somehow, despite having stumbled onto a topic of such pain, Junghee pulls them through the tiny storm and into sunshine, moving the topic around and soon he is relaxing in her chair, laughing as she tells him tale after tale of her dog, Roo.

“She’s usually here at the salon,” she says with a quirk to her smile, “but today she’s with my sister. She’s in town today and wanted to spoil Roo. They are the best of friends.”

Kibum smiled at that, wondering what it was like to own an animal, never having owned one himself. The Chois had several, but they were more for function than affection. Minho absolutely was not interested in any animal that crossed the line between in and out of doors. Perhaps Eunsook would allow him one. Perhaps not.

“And there we are!” Junghee declares, eyes shining as bright as her smile. “What do we think?”

Kibum had been so enraptured in their conversation that his attention had flickered between Junghee’s eyes and her hands so frequently that he had missed nearly half of his haircut and now, looking at it, he realizes he had missed her finishing touches.

He sits silent, staring at himself in the mirror and what his hair, which had been snipped so erratically in September now looks like here three weeks later. Slowly, his eyes begin to tear up and he had swallows over and over, willing himself not to cry.

“Oh,” he hears Junghee say, quietly, “I’m sorry, Kibum. I can fix it, I am sure. I will just straighten it back out like your Ceremony of Bonding cut so it will grow back like it was before. I am so sorry, I truly thought-”

“No,” Kibum cuts in with an emphatic shake of his hand in the air, “I love it. I am not upset. Just surprised.”

“Surprised?” she had asked, her forehead crinkling, her eyes watching him in the mirror, confused.

“I truly never thought it could be pretty,” he had responded quietly, his fingers tracing over the tresses that now were layered and framed his face in ways that accentuated his cheekbones and eyes, lying across his jaw to make his mouth prominent. “I…I look pretty.”

“That’s because you are,” she answers with a smile. “I told you, you have good bone structure. Anything will look beautiful on you.”

It is when Kibum is asked to hold his wrist out for payment that the warm camaraderie they have built together slightly cracks and he is whipped back to the frightening feeling of a newly bound Omega in a world he does not understand.

“Just press your wrist here,” Junghee leads him, holding out a tablet similar to the payment pad he had seen when he and Eunsook had gone to the market. He begins to reach out with his blank wrist when she quickly adds, “Your bond bite.”

The scanning light flickers over Eunsook’s bite mark followed by a beam and then the customer information turns up on the screen in pale print:

Kibum: Omega bonded to Lee Eunsook. Approved.

Junghee smiles and thanks him for coming in, handing him a card scribbled in her handwriting with a tentative appointment for six weeks in the future and a coupon for a manicure “if you want. Pretty nails belong on every hand, even gardeners,” she says with a wink. She waves as he leaves, bells on the door jingling in his wake. He walks out into the cool autumn sun and to his Alpha waiting for him to take them home.

Kibum rubs the back of his neck gently, hissing through his teeth when the bruise that still lies across his neck makes contact with his fingers.

Despite what he’d said to Eunsook in their home, he had instinctively put it on when they left for the salon and the nerves that had tingled in anticipation had briefly numbed the burn beneath his skull.

As they calmed, the burn grew hotter and beneath his now styled strands Kibum’s fingers fidget.

“Take it off,” comes a gentle command from the other side of the cab. “If I’d known you had it on, I would have told you to take it off.”

“We were going into town,” Kibum murmurs as he pulls the clasp apart, breathing a sigh of relief once the collar is in his lap and no longer against the bruise at the nape of his neck.

“You don’t need to wear it to places solely for Omegas, though,” she pauses, looking both ways for traffic and, Kibum notes, chewing on her lip, “if you can you should. Um,” she continues after a short pause. “Does it…does it still…is it-”

Kibum cuts her off, “No, it’s not so painful, it’s just a little sore. The collar was beginning to dig into what’s left, that is all. It won’t be much longer.” Eunsook nods from her place beside him as she turns and joins the traffic heading towards their part of town, towards their home.

Kibum keeps the collar in his lap and his eyes on the collar. He was honest; it had not hurt too much, and he was certain it would not hurt much longer. He could not see the bite and the bruise left so easily in the looking glass anymore, though he could still feel the bruise when he ran his fingers at his neck beneath his skull. It had been more than two weeks and yet the pain lingered. It scared him just how powerful Eunsook’s bite was, how long the effects were left etched into the skin, into his nerves, into his body. She had told him “Every Omega fights” and that how well their first night as a bonded pair would depend on how much he did. He just had not imagined he would be so brutally disciplined for not submitting immediately.

As they drive up the hill to their home, his fingers rise up and brush against the bruise once more, moving upward and through his newly shorn and styled hair. He smiles as he recalls the appointment he has just left and the Omega he has just met, one who already feels like an old friend.

“You look beautiful,” Eunsook says the minute they get out of the truck. Kibum had been distracted by his collar a little, but not enough to not notice that she hadn’t said anything. Now she had and with such awe it had him smiling.

“Thanks.” Kibum caresses the back of his head bashfully, surprised at how his whole body warms under the praise of his bond mate.

They head inside as the sky begins to darken, scattered stars taking the stage as the moon steals the center from the sun. The equinox is over, Kibum doesn’t feel its draw in the same way, but he still would like to sit under moon’s glow.

Eunsook prays the evening blessing to the Ancients over the meal Kibum prepares in the kitchen. She happily agrees to them spending a few peaceful minutes out on the deck sat in the metal chairs just looking up at the sky. Kibum’s eyes never drift away from the display of ancient power, but Eunsook’s do, down to her bond mate’s face and newly styled hair.

He looks only slightly older now, less like a cub who had gotten a hold of their dam’s scissors and attacked their own tresses and more like a youth in rebellion, not quite one old enough to be in a bond, maybe Intended. That’s just her, she knows, looking back up at the sky, Junghee having said as much when they’d discussed Kibum and Eunsook taking him as her mate.

He is young but he is not any younger than the average youth who bonds at their eighteenth year: it is a common age, and he is common for having done so. In that aspect, she chuckles ruefully, their bond is actually normal.

~

There’s a chill in the air, sharp with a slight breeze that makes Taemin shudder in the heavy jacket his dam had watched him button up, eyes uncertain but no protestations made. His sire had given him only the briefest of glances as they had packed up to leave, no remarks for the son who, after a disastrous first ceremonial hunt, was joining the family for the first time with the other clans from the village in the ceremonial hunt: his first in over a decade and his last as an unbound Omega.

The sky is gray and Taemin shivers again as he follows close to Jongin’s certain steps across the field. Alphas crowd around at one end while Omegas bundle together at the other, the two blending together in the middle, mostly as young running around at play. Taemin spares them only the briefest of glances, a prick of envy at their freedom, wishing he too could have grown up playing in the field during the hunt rather than hiding at home.

“Are you sure you should be here?” his brother whispers, a question he has asked more than once, this time low and furtive, his eyes not meeting Taemin’s.

“No,” Taemin replies, “but you should be. This is the only way to be sure you are. No one else would stay back with me.”

Jongin glances over his shoulder with guilt written plainly across his face. Taemin shakes his head with a weary smile.

“It is not your vocation to placate me at every turn, Jongin. This is your last hunt with the clan of your birth. Next hunt you will be bound to Minho and undoubtedly with young.” At that Jongin blushes and Taemin pokes him in the side. “I will be bound as well,” he adds, softer, wondering if he too will be with young so early in his bond. He shakes the thought off and grins at his brother. “We will stay back then. We will excuse ourselves with my cousin as they grow inside my beloved brother.”

Jongin blushes further and shoves Taemin gently, glancing over to the far field where their sire stands amongst a small group of Alphas. He his lips and turns back to Taemin, a sad smile pulling at his lips as he takes his brother’s hand.

“What will you do while we are gone?” he asks earnestly.

“Amma has found an Omega guardian who is nearly an elder who needs particular care,” Taemin replies, squeezing Jongin’s hand. “They too should not be here but are demanding to join. I will be with them from just before everyone leaves for the hunt to just before everyone returns to their homes.”

Jongin smiles wryly. “How very exciting.”

Taemin only nods, sighing as boredom already begins to settle into his bones, shivering again as the chill strikes against his cheek.

When Jongin and Minjung leave they bid him farewell, Minjung wrapping her arms around his frame and brushing his cheek with her mittened hand. Jongin holds him tight before following their dam. It is Jinki’s face that Taemin remembers as he waits for the ceremonial hunt to end. He stands at the very edge of where the Alphas gather and looks at Taemin. They either of them could cross the field and meet, it would take but a handful of minutes and they would be face-to-face and yet. And yet.

Taemin doesn’t move either. He does what he knows he should not do, what a young should not do when met with the gaze of their sire: he turns away.

Jinki is silent on the drive home, Minjung uncharacteristically quiet beside him. They had both been curt upon their return, even Minjung who had left Taemin with such warm affection. His sire’s curtness he understood, even expected, but his dam’s…

The Omega he had been assigned to keep watch over had turned out to be quite the storyteller and had in their turn found Taemin quite charming. Well, at least when they were awake. He had stayed patiently by their side as they intermittently fell asleep and awoke, stories woven as they woke and slept, woke, and slept.

He had been strict in his adherence to the instructions given: he had done what he had been asked to do as he had been asked to do it. Taemin was not risking any questions.

It could not be that Jongin was causing their guardians strife. That would be impossible to even imagine: Taemin couldn’t fathom it. Jongin’s even temperament and desire to create harmony wherever he went meant their guardians only worry when it came to Jongin was that he was not telling them when he was suffering, it was never that he was causing them to suffer.

Perhaps Jinki had told Minjung of his insolence, he suddenly thinks, eyes widening. It had been a moment of weakness, an oversight, the anger that had evolved out of his heartache over losing Kibum making itself known. He shouldn’t have done it. He should apologize. He should-

The vehicle comes to a stop.

Taemin looks over at Jongin who’s looking out his window with a grin. Taemin himself cannot see much from his side: his window looks out at a row of bushes.

“In honor of our last hunt as a whole family,” he hears Jinki start, turning to his sire who he’s surprised to see is smiling warmly, “the last with our sons unbound and, in our home, in our care, we would like to take you to evening meal tonight. Here.”

Taemin still cannot see where they are but by Jongin’s expression it is somewhere good, somewhere special. His brother turns to him, shoves him quickly in excitement and then jumps out of the vehicle, their dam slipping out at the same time. Now Taemin can see where they are, his dam and brother linking arms as they head toward the restaurant where he has celebrated his Covenant of Acceptance every year since he was four. Something settles in his chest, some emotion he doesn’t have a name for. Something sad yet warm, something he wants to hold and let loose at the same time.

“Well? Are you coming?” Taemin looks up, catching his sire’s eye in the rear mirror.

“I…” He looks out the window again to see Jongin holding the door for their dam and the two disappearing inside. He looks back at his sire’s reflection and nods.

“Yes. Thank you, Appa.” Jinki nods, opens his door and steps out. Taemin follows, the slamming of their doors echoing loudly in the brisk autumn air. He meets up with his sire at the front of the vehicle, a mirroring of his dam and brother before them. They keep their hands in their pockets as they walk to the door, the tension between them still present but faltering in the haven of so many joyous moments. Jinki holds the door as Taemin steps inside.

They eat in bursts of conversation and of quiet, clattering of cutlery and drink. Taemin even catches himself smiling at a story his sire tells of some young Alphas’ antics during the ceremonial hunt, amused rather than the anticipated envy and for the moment the tension between the two slips away. It rises again in an instant when Jinki says the wrong thing in the wrong tone about something Taemin will later forget. For now, he glowers at his plate and pretends he doesn’t see the way his dam looks at him in worry.

It’s Jongin that pulls him out of his fury and pulls a laugh out of his throat. Again, the tension wanes, though not as far as it had initially; Taemin is on guard now, especially as he looks around and remembers one of the last times he was here.

It wasn’t a mistake to bring them here, not exactly. They've been here so many times and have so many memories, warm and vibrant, shared between them as a family that it was the perfect place to go. If only Jinki hadn’t sent Kibum away the way he had Taemin wouldn’t be looking over at the table they sat at together last January with fondness and wondering how his love was this very night.

~

Eunsook packs her quiver with a surety unfamiliar to Kibum. Everything she does is unfamiliar to him. The only thing he truly recognizes among the items she has gathered is her coat.

He watches anxiously from beside the purple chair as she makes her preparations to leave. One hand rests upon its back as the fingers of the other tap at the bare skin of his neck.

“Are you certain it is safe?” he asks, cringing at the faint whine to his tone.

She chuckles, her boots thudding heavily against the ground as she slips the quiver over her shoulder. The hair that falls to her elbows is braided tightly and bound up beneath a knitted cap. The jacket she had worn when they had spent their first night together alone in the woods she wears now along with the same boots. The smile, though, is easier.

“Of course,” she answers calmly,” I am not going far. You will not be alone for long.”

Kibum nods uncertainly, fingers now scratching lightly at where his bond collar is absent. “It is only that it is customary for ceremonial hunts to be performed in packs, in clans, and you are going alone. Are you certain,” he asks yet again, “that it is safe?”

She looks up at him quizzically. “Would you like to join me?”

There’s teasing in her tone mixed with genuine curiosity. He wonders what she thinks his reasons are for wondering if his mate going out into the woods alone are dangerous when he also wonders why she thinks it is safe to leave him unguarded for so many hours.

“I know, I know,” she laughs, breaking the spell Kibum had cast himself under, the whirl of panic making him stiff and silent, “I would only slow you down.”

She throws her quiver over her shoulder and grabs a bundle of things Kibum couldn’t name if his life relied on knowing as much.

“Anyhow, this will be different from the ceremonial hunts. For one, I am hunting today alone. For another, I will return this evening. Finally, I am hunting only enough for the two of us, just enough meat to keep us through the season. So, you see, there is no reason to worry. I will return soon.”

“Still,” Kibum now rubs his neck back to front over and over, “is there truly a need to go?” He cringes when her brows rise at his persistence. “I mean only that…well, I mean…” He looks down at the hand resting on the chair and tries to think of how to say exactly what it is that he means. He doesn’t want her to go, he doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want her to risk being harmed so far away, he doesn’t want to worry. He doesn’t want to miss her.

Eunsook tilts her head to the side and smiles gently. “My sire will gift us a portion from the ceremonial hunt,” she says. “I do not know, however, when it will arrive. Also, I want to go for a hunt myself. I had not planned to miss this year.” Kibum’s hand stills, the warmth at his neck now a low burn.

“I will only be gone a few hours,” she continues, “even if I do not catch anything before the sky darkens, I will be home by evening meal. Have it waiting for me: I will be on time.”

Eunsook returns jubilant, eyes shining in the dusk. The boar she lays on the table that had been prepared in the yard for butchering and Kibum breathes a sigh of relief, the first true breath he has taken since her departure that crisp morning.

The sun had shone all day as the hours passed in silence, Kibum worrying at his throat with his fingers and unable to eat as he waited for his mate to return. He hadn’t been prepared for how small he would feel, so…defenseless. Scared. They had not known each other even a month but the bond was already skintight and fresh: it made any loss of her scent a tragedy and he had not yet learned how to exist outside of her presence.

He watches the slow slaughter in turns of repulsion and admiration. Eunsook’s hand is sure in its movements and almost as soon as she had returned there is meat in their smokehouse, a building Eunsook had shown him but that he had not paid attention to when he had first arrived, too enamored with the garden and the orchard.

She follows him back into the house with enthusiastic stories of her time away, eyes shining, and hands held angled away from her body.

In a reflection of their bonding ceremony, Kibum washes her hands.

Stew warms on the stove and he spoons her a bowl while she disappears into the back of the home to change out of her clothes into something more comfortable.

The stew and a slice of warmed bread sit waiting along with a cup of steaming coffee when she returns. He smiles when she remembers to thank the Ancients for their meal.

“I hope you were not too sad to be missing the ceremonial hunt this year,” Eunsook says passively, dunking a bit of bread into her stew, “there is always next year.”

“No, it wasn’t that. I’ve just never been alone before, especially during the hunts. I always had my grand dam or Minho or Taemin with me.”

“You went with Minho to the hunts?” Eunsook asks quizzically, her brows furrowed in confusion. Kibum pauses, realizing he’s made a mistake but not sure what it was, what he had just said wrong. I’ve always had my grand dam or Minho or Taemin with me…

“No,” he says slowly, focusing this time on his words, “I was speaking broadly. I was never alone during my days, I always had someone by my side. And now, now with our bond,” he swallows, “it is unpleasant to be alone. Even just for a few hours.”

“Ah,” Eunsook says, nodding. “Yes, I felt it too. Well, this was just one day, we will not have to endure another separation again for a long time. By then the bond should have settled and it will not be quite so…unpleasant.” She flashes him a little smile before taking another spoonful of stew. “I am sorry to have kept you from the ceremonial hunts this year, though it could not have been helped in any case. Still, you must miss the excitement and for that I am sorry.”

Kibum stirs the dredges of his stew mindlessly and wars against himself. He should tell her. What if she becomes angry? What if she decides to break the bond? No, she chose to bond to save his bond with Taemin. She had asked no question before they bonded. No, she had had no chance to ask any questions. No, she has had time since the equinox to ask questions. Would any sensible Alpha ask such a basic question? He should tell her. He should. He…he should.

“Actually,” he starts slowly, eyes still on the spoon making slow, steady circles in the bowl before him, “I have never been.”

There is no immediate response, though the small sips and dips of Eunsook’s spoon stop leaving them only with the sound of Kibum’s spoon making its rounds.

“You’ve never been?”

“No.”

“How is that” she pauses, and he can almost hear her thinking of the impossibility of it, “how is that possible?”

He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.

“I always stayed with my grand dam. Excuses were always made: either she was ill, or I was or something similar made it impossible for us to attend. Until last year.” He looks up to find her watching him with her head tilted to the side and her brows furrowed in confusion. “Last year I was with Taemin. He actually was ill.”

“How were you able to survive? Where did you gain meat from?”

Kibum laughs a nervous laugh, surprised at such a practical question when he is exposing such a dark secret. “We have an Alpha cousin who has always cared for our needs. They provided for us in this as well.”

“Oh, yes,” Eunsook murmurs absently. “I remember now.” She’s still watching him. “Your grand dam, was she opposed to the hunts, or did she simply need such care?”

“No,” Kibum replies softly, “she was not opposed to them. And to speak the truth, she did not need as much care as she claimed to keep me close each year.” He finally lets the spoon go, letting his hands come to rest on the table, palms down, his eyes resting on the backs of his hands.

“Then…why?”

“I…” Kibum started this and yet he is suddenly frozen, regretting every step he has taken forward and wishing he could take all the words back and change the subject to something, anything else.

“Yes?” He looks up. There is so much kindness and patience in how she is watching him. Nothing in the way she looks at him, in the way she has ever looked at him gives him any reason to think there will be repercussions if he tells the truth but oh, he is still so scared to tell her. His grand dam was so frightened of others discovering his secret, especially Alphas and here he is about to tell an Alpha the one thing he has worked so hard to hide.

“I cannot…” The words disappear off his tongue as he struggles to catch his breath.

Eunsook puts her hands flat on the table mimicking Kibum’s own position.

“You cannot…”

The silence drags on, long enough to sting. Kibum closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them only to find Eunsook watching him with the same emerald eyes she had had when she was in rut.

The scene is so shocking he lets out a scream, nearly falling to the floor as he leaps from his chair. He races to the door, stumbling across the room in a terrified haze with only the thought “escape, escape, escape” playing over and over in his head.

He’s already at the door when her arms come around him, her nose at his neck and he gasps, relaxing immediately into her scent and into being scented. It’s confusing, but not as dark as the equinox; he’s not as desperate to get away this time. Yes, she is still an Alpha and yes, he still doesn’t quite know her. This time, though, he is fully bonded to her and this time he knows her scent and that her scent has a name: Eunsook.

She turns him around slowly in her arms and lifts his head gently to look him in the eyes.

“Kibum,” she says his name heartbreakingly soft, as though she were afraid he would shatter in her arms if she said it any louder. He looks up to find that her eyes are again dark, familiar, and kind. “I only wanted to see if you could hear.”

“Hear?” The question falls hollow between them, and he shakes his head in shame, leaning forward to rest it against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “No, I have never been able to hear. Nor have I ever been able to shift. I am nothing.”

“Oh, Ancients,” she gasps, a heavy breath of something escaping her lungs, her arms pulling him tighter. “I tried…” she begins, a hand coming up to caress Kibum’s hair, “I tried…when…I tried to calm you. I thought…I screamed…you…oh, Ancients.” He feels a tear hit his cheek as it falls from her eyes. “You could not hear me. You just could not hear me.”

He shakes his head, his thumb now pressed against his lips. “I should have told you…”

“Who else knows?” she interrupts, pushing him away, staring into his eyes. He’s surprised to see just how much she had been crying, her cheeks covered in glistening tears.

Quietly, he answers, “Taemin.”

Eunsook nods, “Of course.” Her eyes soften. “He would tell no one. Any others?”

“Only Minho.”

She nods again. Suddenly a frown creases her forehead.

“Is this why?”

Confused, Kibum asks, “Why what?”

“Why you never thought you would be bonded.”

Kibum’s a little frightened of where this conversation is going.

“I never said-”

“You were so surprised at my offer to bond,” Eunsook interrupts. “Not my reasons, the offer itself. I saw it in your eyes. You’ve been hiding for so long you had given up on a mating bond altogether, hadn’t you? Even if you had never met Taemin? I am right, am I not?”

Kibum can’t meet her eyes. They’ve known each other only briefly and she knows him so well already, sees through his defenses. Of course, he had given up: what Alpha in their senses would want an Omega as defective as himself?

“What do you think should be done now?” she asks, finally releasing her hold and pushing him away, her hands first at his shoulders and then falling to her sides before crossing her chest.

Panicked, Kibum glances around the room unseeing, hoping the conversation is not leading them where he thinks it may, but not wholly certain. Yes, Eunsook has been kind, has been patient, but he has just tossed a handful of dynamite in her lap, and it would be unreasonable to expect her to maintain all of that in the face of such destruction.

“That is for you to decide,” he murmurs.

“What do you suppose most Alphas would do if they found themselves bonded with an Omega described just as you have presented?”

Kibum shakes his head sadly. “It’s not my place-”

“What would most Alphas do, Kibum?” she repeats, her voice tightening.

He sighs dejectedly. “I suppose they would break their bond. They would send the Omega back to where they found them, to their guardians.” He takes a deep breath, swallowing back tears as he stares at the floor.

“Kibum.” He tilts his head in acknowledgment, his eyes still on the floor. “Kibum, please look at me.” He looks up slowly, biting his lip now to keep from crying. Eunsook is smiling at him, that soft smile he has grown familiar with, the one that is slowly, slowly becoming synonymous with “home.” “I will not break our bond.”

Kibum bursts into tears, takes a step forward and rests his head on her chest, grateful to feel her arms come up and hold him again in a warm embrace.

“I am not sure I can bear young,” he sobs, covering his face with both hands. He has never spoken aloud his most intimate of worries, not even to Taemin, there had never been a point: he was never going to be bonded to an Alpha. Now that he was in a mating bond and the potential sat within reach, he couldn’t help but to have it bubble up and over his lips, especially as he had already revealed everything else that made him defective, broken, the things that made him, by all rights, an orphan.

“A bridge we will cross when we reach it,” she murmurs consolingly, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. “At this moment all that is important is that you understand that our bond will not be broken. Not now, not ever.”

He sniffles again, wiping errant tears off his cheeks.

“You must be so disappointed.”

“No,” she answers swiftly. “Though, in truth, I had no expectations.”

“I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner,” he says against her chest, his words muffled.

“Ah, Kibum,” she answers with a chuckle, holding him a little tighter and resting her head against his, “and when would have been the time to have raised such a topic for discussion? Though,” her voice grows soft, “I wish I had known…before.”

Kibum pulls his arms out, buried between their bodies and wraps them tightly around Eunsook, closing his eyes and taking in breath after breath of her scent, the only gentleness in all the chaos of emotions being reminded of what is ruined about him has caused.

“Anything else I should know?” Eunsook asks, her hand again rising, softly through his hair. “Anything at all, no matter how consequential?”

He shakes his head, eyes closed as he breathes deeply again and again and again. She knows everything now. As far as he knows, they no longer hold any secrets from each other.

~

They’ve been home a few hours, late enough for the boys to have gone to bed and even Minjung lays in the dark of their bedroom. Jinki, however, sits in his study, a single lamp warding off complete darkness as he allows a wash of memories and emotions to take him back in time to when he and his youngest weren’t estranged, back to when they were first afraid.

It had been the first ceremonial hunt the boys were old enough to attend, the both of them finally in their eighth year and bubbling with excitement to join their guardians.

Jongin had shifted easily, soft gray fur with pale violet eyes that looked up at Jinki with joy. They had both then turned to Taemin whose eyes were closed, hands fisted and face turning a deeper and deeper shade of red.

As hard as he had tried, no shift ever happened: the little boy stayed a little boy beside his wolf brother who looked up at their sire in pain and confusion. Taemin’s eyes had begun to tear up and when he looked up at Jinki they spilled over his cheeks.

“Appa,” he had hiccupped through the tears.

“Taemin,” Jinki had said softly, reaching out to comfort his son who pulled away, shaking his head.

“No, Appa, I can do it.” He closed his eyes again with fists clenched tighter and even his shoes bunched up in exertion.

A soft whimper had escaped Jongin’s throat, and his head had hung low as he watched his brother struggle.

“Taemin,” Jinki had repeated, stronger now and with a hand stretched out, landing warm against the child’s shoulder. Taemin stopped, his eyes still squeezed tight.

“Why can’t I do it, Appa?”, came the desperate plea.

“I do not know,” Jinki confessed, beyond his scope with what he has just witnessed. Never had he seen or heard of an Alpha or Omega unable to shift; it was simply unheard of. Taemin could hear his thoughts in the forest, he could sense the calm Jinki had sent him then and was sending him now. In the back of his mind, on the rarest of moments, he had wondered why Taemin had been abandoned and he wondered now if he had just discovered the reason.

A pathetic one, he had decided, pulling his son close.

He had answered Taemin’s question before it was asked, he knew that fear sat at the edge of his son’s mind no matter how many times, no matter how many ways they had shown him he was loved, and despite the bond they share as a family: he will not be sent away.

He had lifted Taemin’s face and wiped the tears away, said his son’s name quietly and waited until they were facing each other before making himself clear.

“You will stay with us. You will carry supplies between the tents, and you will stay with the elder dams while your brother joins the younger Omegas. When the hunt is over, you will come home with us. Nothing has changed, Taemin. Nothing.” He had pulled Taemin close, rubbed his back and kissed his head. “You are my son. Always. Nothing has changed.”

Tonight, he sits in his study and remembers how he had been desperate to protect his son then and how he was doing everything to protect him now. Every step taken was to keep his son safe. If only Taemin could see it as clearly now as he had when he was young and the threat was obvious, when Jinki could explain, and his son would understand. Taemin understood his own pain then, now…

Jinki turns off the light and sits in the dark a while longer before joining his mate in bed.

~

The days pass through their Time of Isolation, each growing darker and colder, the chill in the air outside slipping inside in ways it takes Kibum weeks to find the words to explain what it is that he is feeling, what it is that is wrong.

They never move beyond the pleasantries of their early introductions, nothing more than the tepid warmth of acquaintances. He had shared his most intimate secrets; she had accepted them with tender grace and that had been that: their relationship had grown stagnant.

It was in many ways Kibum’s own fault, he had decided, once he was able to put to words what it was he sensed. Eunsook took much of the blame as well, yet he couldn’t help feeling culpable knowing his own temperament, his own tendency to withdraw rather than engage when he was distressed and he was both right now, pressed to his limit with his senses overwhelmed and the only way to soothe them was to lean into the embrace of a veritable stranger.

Everything might have been fine, they might have made the progress needed to where he was able to request and receive with ease the affection he required but a sudden and sharp disagreement had set back the progress they had made.

Minho always fought loud and passionately, every word spoken to release the anger and the truth and to settle the matter. Taemin fought in a similar matter but more in a burst of fury that quickly settled. Eunsook fights in a way wholly unfamiliar to Kibum and one that frightens him a little.

She shuts him out, pretends that he isn’t even there. Every thing that she had allowed him to do she begins to do again and everything he had done for her she does for herself. And at night, her door, that she had begun to leave open, closes fully.

Kibum thinks that two can play this game and begins his own little war of avoidance. Two days in, however, he realizes that Eunsook has the advantage of abandoning him to the world of the many books on her shelves and all he is doing is slowly starving himself of her company, of the scent and warmth of his Alpha. On the third he steps timidly into the kitchen while she eats her supper and stands beside the cupboard just outside the hallway and tries not to stare. And tries to think of how to apologize when he’s not accustomed to being the one to do so first.

“Eunsook…” he begins quietly, wishing he had not waited so long and wishing he didn’t need her good will so badly.

“Yes?” she replies, her tone neutral, no hint she is still harboring any anger.

“Apologies for quarreling. Please forgive me.” He watches her. Her shoulders slouch and the fork in her hand falls to the table. She stands and turns to him, sadness etched in her face, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Oh, Kibum. I am sorry as well. Forgive me?” She stretches her arms out and he falls into them, holding her tight and breathing in her scent over and over inhaling as much as he can.

~

There’s snow on the ground when he steps across the threshold of the salon, the bells on the door ringing above his head.

His heart drops a little when he realizes he is not the only client in the salon, an elderly Omega sitting in one of the deep pink chairs with their hair piled in rainbow papers. They’re speaking animatedly with Junghee who is leaned against the counter, the lights against her back and black apron tight against their frame.

He was certain his appointment was for today, Eunsook had added it to the calendar and had driven him there herself, yet now he second guesses himself, raising his hand half-heartedly when Junghee notices him and waves, a warm smile gracing her face. She excuses herself from the Omega and heads his way.

“Hi! Right on time. Let’s get you started.” She grabs his hand and leads him to the seat next to the Omega. Her hands come to rest on his shoulders, and she grins at him in the mirror.

“So, what are we thinking today? Staying with what we did last time or trying something new?”

“Oh, I-” Kibum sputters, glancing at the reflection of the elderly Omega one seat down from him. She’s watching them openly and he is still startled from finding himself not alone in the salon. “Staying. I like it the way it is. Thanks.”

Junghee nods and pulls out her scissors and combs, her attention now drawn to her tools. The Omega keeps watching Kibum and he smiles at her and gives a little nod.

“Congratulations,” she says, her voice rough with age.

“Ah, thank you,” he answers uncertainly, unsure as to what she is congratulating him for.

“I see you are newly bonded.” Her fingers emerge from beneath her cape and dark red nails point at his hair, longer than when he was bonded to Eunsook but still short enough to show not much time has passed since.

“Oh,” he murmurs, running a hand over his hair self-consciously, “yes. It has been two and a half moons.”

“Has it now?” Her eyebrows rise and there’s a pitch to her voice he doesn’t like. She’s excited by the revelation.

“Come along, Kibum,” Junghee says, her voice a warm distraction, “let’s get you freshened up.”

The heat of the water and the way Junghee’s hands move their way through his hair has Kibum relaxing, he answers her questions with half-thought answers, happy just to be away from the Omega and her uneasy manners.

Too soon, his hair is in a towel, and he’s being led back to a pink chair and Junghee is pulling a cape out and tying it around his throat, covering his bond collar, with ease.

Junghee’s fingers work their way through his tresses, a snip here, another there, and she manages to keep conversations afloat with both himself and the elderly Omega who seems to forget that he even exists.

He begins to forget she exists as well, despite Junghee’s balancing of their separate conversations. She’s there but she doesn’t matter, just a hum that has no effect on his time with Junghee.

Until Junghee finishes with Kibum’s hair and moves to his fingers, leaving the elderly Omega where she’s been sitting since he came in and taking Kibum over to a little table he hadn’t noticed before.

He’s not sure how: a rack of polish sits beside it with virtually every color his mind could possibly conceive. Earth tones, sky tones, night tones, sea tones, jewel tones, floral tones; every single color of the rainbow and all their shades. Glitter and jewels and hearts; all manner of accessories.

Kibum sits down, overwhelmed at the selection. When Junghee had suggested a manicure at their last appointment, and Eunsook had agreed, he had barely given any thought to color: no one in his village colored their nails. Now he stares, going over each color and wondering what the color would look like at the end of his fingers. He splays out his fingers, thinking.

“Something dark, I should think,” the elder Omega smirks from her seat, “to remind your Alpha of your dark nights together.”

Kibum flushes, a cold rush through his body. His vision sharpens and he can’t look away from his fingers.

“You are lacking more tact than usual today, Eungwi,” Junghee says calmly, glancing at Kibum. She picks out a neutral pink shade and places it on the table directly between Kibum’s hands. “What do you think of this shade?”

“It is hardly a scandal to speak on such matters, Junghee. He is newly bonded; anyone can see that. With the way he must smell to his Alpha, it would be a wonder if he enjoys any sleep at all.” She chuckles. “Though sleep is rarely wanted early in the bond. You will see someday, Junghee.” Eungwi pats at her head. “Will this be finished soon?”

“Yes, ma’am. Not long now.”

Kibum nods at the shade Junghee has pulled down, too numb to do much else. Junghee keeps him focused while she works, leaving him for a few minutes while she finishes with the elder Omega. Eungwi makes a few passing remarks as she leaves and then there is just Junghee and himself left in the salon.

She finishes with a smile and pats his cheek as he leaves.

“Oh, lovely,” Eunsook says when Kibum gets in the truck and lifts his hands. “Your hair looks pretty, too,” she adds as she starts the vehicle. The smile she gives Kibum is true, it’s honest. He watches her profile as she drives them away from the salon a few moments longer before taking a deep breath and letting it out. Of everything he knew and felt the one thing he could trust was that she always told him the truth.

At home, Kibum sniffs his wrist, the marks of Eunsook’s bite brushing his nose.

“With the way he must smell to his Alpha, it would be a wonder if he enjoys any sleep at all,” the Omega Eungwi had said, and it had bothered him for many reasons.

He sniffs again but all he can smell is his own skin. He runs the smooth skin at his neck where she had bitten him during the equinox and brings his fingers up to his face to sniff again. Again, he smells nothing.

“What are you doing?”

Eunsook stands in his bedroom doorway, looking at him in a mix of confusion and amusement. He thought he had closed it, but clearly in his haste to get to his bedroom he had forgotten.

“Do I smell?” He cringes as she steps forward, bringing her heady scent as she sniffs in his direction.

“No, nothing strange. Why? Did something happen?”

“Uh…” Kibum falters, not sure how to answer.

Eunsook tilts her head to the side, arms crossed across her chest and waits.

“Sort of. There was an elder at the salon today and she said something about how Omegas smell to their Alphas, but I don’t smell anything, not even from the mating bite.”

Eunsook stands up straight, blinking, her arms falling to her side.

“Oh,” she says, quieter than he expects. “Well,” she continues, hands rubbing together, “that is because it is not noticeable to Omegas. There is no reason, generally, for Omegas to know whether another is bonded to an Alpha or not. What is important is that Alphas know whether the Omega they are engaging with, in whatever matter, is or is not available to be claimed as a mate. That, along with our Time of Isolation, is why you cannot smell how your scent has changed.”

“Will I never sense it?” He has a point; he just needs clarification before he actually brings it to her.

“You will,” she says, nodding, “when we are among other Alphas. You will notice then how much your scent now bears my own.”

“I smell of you to other Alphas, though? At the market, for example? They know we are bonded mates by my scent?” At that Eunsook laughs.

“Yes, our scents complement each other, it is clear that we are bonded mates. No Alpha outside of our clan will ever address you without my permission.” Kibum nods, thinking of the cousin who had been of such help through his childhood and the Chois alpha who had done their part to see him bonded. He looks up, a thought crashing its way to the forefront and Eunsook shakes her head as she raises a hand.

“Minho will be of our clan by bond. Even if he were not, I would never keep him from you. I vow it.”

Kibum blows out a breath.

“Thank you.”

“It is nothing,” Eunsook says with a wave of her hand. “Family is everything.”

“I have more questions, if you have the patience for them,” Kibum says, hopefully.

“Of course. Though, I think I will sit if we are to continue.” Kibum’s chest clenches even as he moves to make room for her on the bed. He sees, with some relief, that she steps just inside the room and sits on the floor, her back pressed up against the open door. “What would you like to know?”

“The mating bite,” he starts slowly, “why does it fade, and the bond bite does not?”

“The bite of the neck is to mark an Omega by an Alpha,” she answers plainly, one hand palm up. “There is a sac there that only an Alpha’s teeth can penetrate. It completes what is begun by the bite of the wrist during the Ceremony of Bonding. A pair is not considered fully bonded until an Omega has experienced both bites. The bond bite, however,” she continues, raising the other hand, also palm up, “is to initiate the mark of the Omega by the Alpha. Both bites alter your scent to compliment my own, make it clear that you are bonded to me, but it is only when both are completed that your scent changes completely.

“The bond bite is also used for identification. My bite is what distinguishes you from other Omegas and it is what will be used by any scan to prove you are who you say you are.”

“Why the bonding collars?” he asks, confused. “If Alphas can already sense when an Omega belongs to another Alpha, why mark an Omega so starkly?”

“Many reasons,” Eunsook answers calmly. “The best among them is to simply make it easier for everyone to know who is bonded and who is not without needing to get too close. I am surprised,” she continues, “that no Omega ever discussed this with you.”

Kibum shrugs. “My dam never wore a collar while I lived with her. No one spoke to me on any matters of bonding, even as we prepared for mine. And,” he adds, “I never allowed myself to take any interest in matters I believed myself incapable of ever taking part in.”

He smiles grimly as Eunsook nods sympathetically from her place on the floor.

Now he has come to the point, all his other questions answered.

“Can you?” he asks, the words of the elder Omega winding around his mind like a banner in the wind. “Can you smell me?”

“Of course,” Eunsook replies, the tilt to her head returning. “We are bonded; you have my scent.”

“Well, then,” he starts, “are we always going to be like this?”

Eunsook’s brows furrow in confusion. “Like what?”

Kibum wrings his hands, unsure exactly how to say what he feels, sure only that it must be said because it is becoming an ache too great to continue to bear.

“The Omega at the salon today,” he says, his words beginning to rush, “spoke of Alphas who visit their Omegas in the night. They were teasing me, I know, trying to make the newly bonded Omega blush.”

Eunsook shifts uneasily in her place on the floor.

“Kibum-”

“Junghee handled them well,” Kibum continues, his eyes now on his hands and the pale nails now adorning his fingertips, “she did. Though, I did blush. It did, however, make me think. Of things.”

He looks up, catching her eye and the newly guarded way that she is watching him.

She tilts her jaw, and he notices how she swallows before asking, “Such as?”

He looks back down, fidgeting with his hands, eyes on all of the many knuckles.

“We are bonded, Eunsook. I need to know what that means. I know that you said that you would bond with both of us to protect the love bond that I have with Taemin, but you are also my Alpha. Yet, you do not behave as though that were your role.”

Eunsook folds her hands and takes a deep breath.

“What are you expecting of me, Kibum, that I have not done?”

“I do not expect visits in the night,” he says quietly, “It is only that there is nothing between us. Ever. Not once have you touched me since the end of the equinox. And I need to be touched, Eunsook. All Junghee did was pat my cheek before I left tonight, and I nearly cried in relief at finally feeling someone else’s warmth.

“I am not accustomed to being without affection. Before I came here, I had never gone a day without my hand being held, a kiss being granted before I went to bed. I was hugged and held constantly. With you, I have had none of that. And,” he hesitates, looking up, grimacing, “what little I have had was frightening.”

Eunsook shifts again, her lips, her eyes sad.

“I did not know.”

“I need my hand to be held,” he continues, “I want to be embraced. I would like a kiss in the evening before bed. Little bits of affection to assure me that our bond is real. That I am…real. That…you are not angry with me.”

With a gasp, Eunsook cries, “Angry, Kibum? Ancients, why would you ever think that I was angry with you?”

Kibum looks down again at his hands.

“There is no other reason for an Alpha to withhold their affections from their Omega. It is…” he struggles to find the word. “Instinctual. I have no other way to describe it. I see no anger in your face but everything in me pulsates in the belief that I have angered you and I do not know how to please you.”

He looks up, eyes pleading. “Please do not be angry with me.”

“I am not,” she says softly, rising up, taking the few steps between them and then kneeling before him. She reaches for his hand, and he takes it eagerly, squeezing it tightly with both of his. With her open hand, she caresses his face. His head falls to her shoulder, and she runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I am so sorry, Kibum. I did not know.”

He begins crying, softly, and then harder, forgetting himself. She stands up, taking her hand out of his and sitting beside him on his bed, pulling him into a tight embrace. He curls up, the scent of his Alpha so close, soothing and her arms warm and strong.

“I will hold your hand, Kibum,” she says, “and I will embrace you. I will kiss you before bed. And,” she adds, kissing him on the top of his head, “perhaps after you wake, as well.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I would like that.”

Three weeks have passed since Kibum confessed his feelings to Eunsook and tension he had not even realized existed between them has melted, fading away like the sun as the days grow ever shorter.

She lets him rest his head on her shoulder as she reads on the sofa; he gets a kiss to his forehead every night before they separate to their own beds; when he steps up to her while she as at the counter she smiles and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in tight and kissing his head. Little touches and shows of affection that have him feeling like himself again, frightened at how much he had lost without even realizing.

He stands now in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing and looking out the window at the field of snow that had fallen over night.

The icy reflection shimmers for miles. White powder stretches on and on to the base of the mountain he is used to seeing in the distance only capped in white now fully bathed in snow.

Kibum is no stranger to winter and its weather: he has seen snow before. However, his village was closer to the sea and snow fell and melted more often than it ever lasted on the ground. When he and his grand dam moved, even then, they still had only a passing experience with snow. The village of Minho and Taemin lay in the valley of the mountains where he lived now and did not experience the seasons in the same manner he was learning to experience them now: never had he seen so much snow.

He is absolutely mesmerized.

Eunsook finds him standing at the window, coffee brewed and cup empty, staring out at the snow-fallen ground. Confused, she looks over his shoulder, puzzled by the lack of anything interesting in the scene, a little concerned that perhaps a predator has made its way into their yard and she cannot see it.

“What is wrong?” she asks, still scanning the yard.

Kibum jumps, gasping, his hand clasping at the band of his throat.

“Sorry,” Eunsook says, grabbing him by the shoulders and laughing softly. She pulls him in for a hug. “I did not mean to scare you.” He breathes in her scent and hugs her back.

“Nothing,” he says as they part. “I’ve just never,” he gestures at the window, “never seen so much snow before. It’s so beautiful. Oh! Your coffee!” He moves around her to finish fixing her drink and she lets him, looking out the window. As he puts the cup in her hand, he asks, “Is it always like this?”

“Yes,” she answers lightly, taking a sip. “With the elevation and openness and no traffic to trod through or warm it away, yes. It is usually like this. We will get even more in the coming weeks.” She takes another sip and looks at him curiously. “Have you really never seen so much snow?”

“No,” Kibum answers breathlessly, turning back to the window. “There was snow but never this much and never…” He makes motions with his hands, trying to explain. “I never saw so much all at once. The field is so big. And the mountain.”

“Hmmm,” Eunsook hums, taking another sip, thinking. “Would you like to go out in it?” she asks, an eyebrow raised.

He turns to her, confused. “To do what?”

She shrugs, finishing her coffee. After putting it in the metal cupboard, she suggests, “Anything. I used to build castles out of the snow. I could pull you around on a sled. We could lie on our backs and stare at the sky. Or just go for a walk, maybe?”

“It looks so deep, though, “Kibum answers incredulously. “A walk sounds difficult.” He has his thumb pressed to his lip and she knows by now that means he’s anxious about something.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the thumb still just below his lip. “About the sled ride? Can you really do that?”

“Of course. Oh,” she adds, laughing as she understands his confusion, “not in this form. I will shift first.”

“Oh,” he replies, the confusion on his face slowly turning to understanding and then to embarrassment. “Oh, of course.” He chuckles shyly before asking, “What should I wear?”

Dressed in a pair of Eunsook’s overalls, the boots he’d worn when they had camped overnight after their Ceremony of Bonding, and the heavy winter coat they had picked out together the last time they had been in town, Kibum screams with delight and terror as a golden Eunsook dashes across a clean field of glittering snow, a harness strapped to her body pulling a shimmery aqua disc that he clings to with gloved fists.

Nearly an hour is spent in the icy field with turns taken between Eunsook dashing across the field with Kibum following close behind, fingers gripping the disc his mate hauls in her wake, and Kibum taking unsteady steps in the snow that reaches halfway to his knees, bending down and just letting his fingers trace patterns in the soft powder.

They have no way of communicating directly when she is in wolf form, but Kibum is able to follow her cues well enough to keep the mood light: he laughs when she his cheek.

When they reach home, he sets water to boil while she changes into something warmer, and they are both at the table when he broaches a question that had crossed his mind while they were out in the field.

“Could we go to the cabin while there is snow on the ground? I would like to see the river when it is frozen.”

“We could,” Eunsook says enthusiastically, running her fingers through her hair as she pulls it back into a messy bun. “We could go today if you would like.”

Kibum grins, abandoning the stove and running to his room.

Eunsook chuckles, turning the heat down under the water and heading back to her own room to begin packing.

Kibum’s eyes widen in amazement and he’s breathless as they pull up the icy drive. The mountain that had loomed in the distance from their home now towers above them as they near the cabin. A range of smaller peaks crowned the center jewel, and it sparkles in the late morning sun.

Kibum steps out gingerly, the snow even deeper here. The river is steps away from the front of the cabin, frozen, and the sun glares off the ice in sharp glints that blind Kibum if he looks too long.

He follows Eunsook from the truck to the side of the cabin opposite of the river, the main entrance, and is startled by how bright everything is.

The side of the cabin that faces their home is mostly log with a few windows to break up the heaviness. The rest of the cabin is patterned with enormous windows. The sides, the loft, even the ceiling is awash in panels that let in natural light.

The mountain and river lay before them in an uninterrupted view through the windows at the back of the cabin. Kibum walks toward it, staring, unbelieving, enamored with the beauty he still is not sure is wholly true.

Eunsook carries their bags upstairs to the loft while her mate stares, enchanted, at the view she has seen so many times. The reason she had chosen the plot of land to begin with.

Upstairs, she lays Kibum’s bag on the floor beside the enormous bed that lays beneath a matching window covered in snow. Eunsook leans down to where a panel rests beside the bed’s headboard and presses a button before turning back to one of the bags and pulling out a set of bedding nearly identical to what was in Kibum’s room, only nearly twice the size.

Slowly, the snow begins to melt away and the floor beneath her feet warm as Eunsook makes the bed and it is all gone as she tosses the final cased pillow on the bed.

In the bathing room directly off to the side, she adds Kibum’s towels she had packed and turns the heat on so that the floors will be warm when he takes his bath.

The rest of the luggage is left in a tidy pile and Eunsook heads downstairs to join Kibum in the main floor of the cabin.

He’s moved away from the main scene and begun taking in the cabin itself, his fingers now on the island that separates the kitchen area from the living space, the first cozy and the second sprawling and familiar. It takes him until he has circled half the room until he realizes that the living space is nearly identical in its layout and palette to Taemin’s, only on a scale nearly twice as large.

The cabin clearly has all the same accommodations the house has, Kibum sees, noting, after his initial surprise, that the windows have thin panels beside them and beside those thick coverings ready to cover the windows at the touch of a button.

The cabin is giving him a feeling he cannot express, something like familiarity but deeper. It’s like he’s home in a stranger’s house and he cannot put his finger on what it is exactly that’s making him feel this way. He stops in his tracks when he realizes what it is that the cabin reminds him of: it feels of Eunsook, and it reminds him of Taemin.

The same had happened to him in the house. The rack just inside the door where their jackets hang and underneath their shoes sit: it is Taemin’s home in Eunsook’s house. He had embraced it because it reminded him of his love, but this was something different, something purposeful and confusing.

Before he could delve too deep into what it might be, Eunsook stood before him, smiling, asking him if the cabin was all right.

“Of course,” he nearly stuttered, his mind shifting gears, “everything is so beautiful.” He compliments the design of the cabin: so airy and spacious. The windows everywhere, letting in all the light. She explains how the buttons on the panels work, closing the covers of one and blanketing them in darkness. His eyes widen in surprise, and he claps his hands together.

“Is there anything you cannot do?” he wonders in amazement. Eunsook shrugs shyly as she opens the cover again and gestures to the loft.

Upstairs, Kibum’s demeanor changes subtly, still in awe of what he sees and praising Eunsook’s skills and creativity, yet, by chance, she catches the furtive glance he takes of the bed and sees the look of concern in his eyes.

She had assumed, she had not asked and that second, that tiny flinch has her wondering if she has overstepped.

“Kibum,” she starts, watching him take in the bathing room, humming in response, “are you hungry?” He turns to her, clearly confused, glancing quickly at the bed. “I packed sandwiches. We can go eat them downstairs.”

She reaches out to grab her bag, thinking the conversation would be better had later, once they’ve spent some time together, and thinking it would be best to move it out of Kibum’s space now so it will be gone if the answer isn’t in her favor. Only, her hand is grasped, and she looks up in surprise.

Kibum is watching her, a smile that is a little hesitant yet also warm, familiar.

“Leave it. Let’s go eat.” He turns the hand around so that her hand is now in his and tilts his chin, urging her to lead the way.

They eat at the wooden table that has aspects of Taemin’s table but that is unique in itself, that has Eunsook’s own style. She takes him down a short path to the edge of a dock, now covered in snow and ice, and points out a hiking path on the mountain across the river.

“That is what I was speaking about when I asked you whether you enjoyed hiking.”

Kibum’s eyes widen as they follow the path higher and higher as it disappears behind the mountain. Eunsook laughs.

“I can see the answer is still ‘no’. That is fine, I have hiked it alone before, I can again.” Kibum’s heart drops as she turns away and leads them back to the cabin, gesturing the wide yard to the side and describing how it is a yard usually filled with grass and flowers, a wood bench and table in the shade of a tree currently barren for outdoor eating. He nods and smiles, thinking it all sounds lovely, wishing that he were stronger and Eunsook wasn’t so easy, so willing to leave him behind.

Later, they play a word game before a real fire, Kibum arguing that “pinee” wasn’t a real word while Eunsook cheekily declared that, “It is the scent of pine trees. They smell pinee.” In the end, she relented, playing “pine” and still winning the game.

After evening meal, she reads aloud while Kibum rests his head on her leg, sleepy after a day spent in the cold and the deep snow. He falls asleep and she carries him up the stairs to the bed that, thanks to the many windows, lies beneath a blanket of stars and moonlight. She tucks him in and brushes his hair away from his face, smiling at the way he shifts into her touch in his sleep. Without a thought, she grabs her bag and heads downstairs.

~

Kibum breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the salon is empty.

He had not worn his bond collar in days, and he had been tapping at it anxiously the entire ride to town, enough that Eunsook had taken notice and asked if he was well. He had shaken his head and said it was nothing, too nervous even to explain why he was nervous, not entirely sure himself until he steps into the salon and finds it’s quiet and himself alone.

Except for Junghee.

The Omega smiles brightly at him from behind the counter, waving him toward the back where they slip into their amicable back-and-forth, conversation flowing between them like a babbling brook. Kibum closes his eyes under Junghee’s gentle ministrations and the warm water and smiles.

When he’s in her chair the conversation takes a turn and suddenly, he has tears in his eyes, an unexpected burst of emotions that has Junghee dropping her scissors on the stand beneath the mirror’s bright lights and bringing gentle cloths to wipe Kibum’s tears away.

“What is it, Kibum?” she asks earnestly. “What is wrong?” All she had asked was what plans he had for the coming weeks, an innocuous question, yet he had been immediately reminded of what he would be missing and so before he knew what was happening, he was crying.

“My friend,” he sniffles, “his birth anniversary,” he wipes his cheek with the back of a knuckle, “it is this week. In just a few days, in truth. And I,” he sniffles again, looking up to meet her gaze, “I will not be allowed to attend the celebration. I cannot even contact him to wish him any blessing on the day.”

The tears fall even freer as Junghee takes him into her arms and rubs his back. He had not realized how upset he was until she had asked. It was one thing to know it would be missed and to know it with Eunsook. To tell a stranger of how the bond he had never imagined he would ever have was keeping him from his beloved friend on the anniversary of his birth, of how they had not been able to celebrate Kibum’s and how Minho would be leaving within days of their reunion and Kibum would be without him for another three months: it was all too much. He wept into Junghee’s shoulder.

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he pulls away, embarrassed by his outburst and thankful for Junghee’s gentle comfort.

“Apologies,” he starts, “I do not-” Junghee waves her hand before brushing a thumb across his cheek.

“Kibum, it was only natural. I am honored you feel so comfortable with me.” She turns and picks up her abandoned scissors and grabs the familiar comb before turning back to him with a smile. “The usual?”

They are back in their ebb and flow, the babbling brook of conversation from before a log of discontent had dropped itself in their way and left Kibum reminded of the fractures in his heart.

Junghee has left the topic that left him in tears alone, but he picks it back up, remembering how she had defended him at his last appointment, how her touch had led to him confronting Eunsook and how that had led to where they were now; not in love but not not in love. Friends and yet more, he couldn’t say what they were, exactly, other than ‘bonded’: Eunsook was his Alpha and from that appointment to this his comfort with her had grown in morning hugs and evening kisses, afternoons spent sitting next to her while she read her books, sometimes out loud.

“My Alpha’s birth anniversary is next week,” he weaves into the conversation, only tangentially connected to what Junghee had been saying, but enough that she doesn’t look at him with complete surprise in the mirror.

“Oh,” she says, and he can see that she is working to keep her tone even, “please pass on my blessings on her day.” She smiles and watches him, waiting for him to elaborate, keeping a safe distance from the subject lest she cause him unintentional pain again.

“It will be our first birth anniversary together,” he starts, grimacing even as he speaks, “because our bonding was on the equinox and so was my birth anniversary. We…we were not able to celebrate. Too much was happening.”

“Well,” Junghee starts, placing a hand on Kibum’s shoulder and smiling conspiratorially at him in the mirror, “belated blessings to you. May this year bring you joy, hope and love.” She ran her fingers through his hair and then continued with her work.

“Thank you,” Kibum answers quietly.

“Have you thoughts on what you will do for them?” He looks up, realizing he had gotten lost in his thoughts, Junghee’s blessing overwhelming him and sending him on a series of flashbacks both old and new.

“What? Oh. I. Eh…” The truth was that he had but he had also been unsure.

He had been thinking about their visit to the cabin recently now that the solstice loomed on the horizon, a mere two weeks away.

Eunsook had had the opportunity to share the bed with him, he had all but told her to stay with him. “Leave it," he had said to her when she had reached to take her bag out of the bedroom. “Leave it.” Yet, he had woken alone, Eunsook’s bag gone. He had found her downstairs still asleep on the sofa that was in every way Taemin’s. He had watched her sleep awhile before going back upstairs and taking a bath, staring at the wall and wondering why, or how, or if she didn’t understand what he had been saying when he said, “Leave it.”

They had eaten a breakfast Eunsook made with enthusiasm, so happy when Kibum had come down the stairs that he had not brought it up and then more and more time passed, and he pushed it farther and farther back until it felt childish to bring it up at all. Besides, the solstice.

The solstice, he swallowed. Over and over, any time he thought of it a cold sweat would break out and he would have to leave Eunsook’s side, her scent, the sight of her. So, he didn’t. Yet, if he did any of those things he suffered: he needed to be near his Alpha. So, he didn’t think of the solstice, pushed it out of his mind, forgot it existed. Until now.

Now he was plagued with too many things to forget as he remembered them all at once: Minho was gaining a year; Eunsook was gaining a year; the solstice was coming; their Time of Isolation was coming to an end, and he would be able to contact Taemin again. All within two weeks.

“I think I will make her a cake,” he says, suddenly shy.

Junghee smiles encouragingly at him in the mirror, fluffing his hair.

“I think she will like that.”

~

Taemin sits at the end of a table decorated with all the finery meant to showcase the celebration of another year in an Alpha’s life. The noise of the celebrants’ hum in his ears and he does his best to keep a smile on his face: he truly is happy for Minho.

Across from him sit Minho’s elder brother, Minseok, and his mate, an Omega who had done their best to engage him in conversation when they had first arrived. Eventually, when it became clear that Taemin was more sad than shy, the Omega left him to his disquiet and left him alone, turning their attention solely to the celebrations.

Jongin sits beside him, the warmth of his presence a stark contrast to the coldness to his other side, to the empty chair next to him. He should be paying more attention; he is truly happy for Minho. Yet, everything is also a reminder of Kibum’s absence and the pain he has lived with for so many months.

The noise dies down and a birthday blessing is recited. Taemin raises his eyes as he answers the refrain only to catch his sire’s sharp eyes. He looks down, ashamed.

Minho is his friend, his brother’s soul bond, his brother by bond soon enough and his own love’s dear friend: this was a time to celebrate, not to mourn.

He shakes his shoulders, pushes his lips up into a smile and looks up again, catching his sire’s eyes again and bowing his head in submission. Jinki watches him a moment longer before turning away.

From there it becomes easier, lighter, the smile he forces on his lips taking their place naturally. He laughs with ease and leans into Jongin’s warmth, holds his hand for strength. His brother even looks at him with a smile, touching their foreheads together.

“Taemin!” Taemin looks to the left and then to the right, catching Minho as he hurries to where Taemin stands to the side of the Chois saying their farewells to his guardians.

“Birthday blessings,” he says with a smile, taking the hug the Alpha offers.

“Thank you,” Minho says, stepping back. “I have a wish I would like granted in honor of my birth anniversary.”

“A wish?” Taemin laughs. “Well, name it. I will do my best.”

Minho’s smile fades away and his eyes darken. Taemin’s own smile falls away and his eyes widen in concern. “Minho?”

“Make this last month joyful for Jongin.”

Taemin’s brow crinkles in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Minho sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, glancing over to where the guardians still stand and shifting so that he stood as a buffer between them and Taemin.

“Your brother has watched you mourn for the last two months. I have watched him do it. It has broken his heart, Taemin. I know-” he raises his hand as Taemin begins to object, “I know that you are the one in pain. But you must know that your pain, watching you in pain causes Jongin pain. That your heartbreak is his heartbreak. That he will take it all and never say a word. I just need you to let him leave you with a month of memories he can hold on to when he leaves. Kibum will be returned to you when Jongin and I go, you will have no further reason to mourn. So please, Taemin, grant me this wish and give your brother some peace.”

“I,” Taemin starts, shame heating his face, “did not mean to cause him harm.”

“I did not mean to say that you meant to.” Minho’s eyes soften. “Please, just give Jongin this last month. He will be gone from you a long time, but he will come back. Then you will leave.” Minho sighs, looking up at the night sky. Taemin looks up too, watching the stars.

“These are the last days for you to be brothers under one roof,” Minho continues, echoing their sire’s statement so many weeks ago, “Make them joyful. You are the only one who can.”

Taemin looks back down at Minho who’s looking at him with such soft hope. He opens his mouth to speak only to be distracted by the sight of Jongin laughing with Minseok’s mate. Of course, he thinks, Minho is right.

“I will do everything to make my brother happy, Minho. Thank you.”

He steps forward and takes Minho into his arms, hugging him tightly before stepping back. He nods to Minho with a smile and watches as the Alpha walks back to the group, joining Jongin in his conversation, an arm wrapped around his Intended’s shoulder.

As they follow their guardians from the restaurant to their vehicle, Jongin wraps his arms around Taemin, smiling brightly.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he murmurs softly, dreamily even, the crisp, icy air making his breath puff in the dark.

“Of course,” Taemin replies in surprise, “why wouldn’t I come? It’s Minho’s birth anniversary.”

“I’m just happy,” Jongin sighs, resting his head against Taemin’s shoulder. Taemin smiles, patting his brother’s hand and resting his own head against Jongin’s.

As they approach the vehicle, he sees that his sire’s eyes are again on him, though this time there is a softness there he has not seen in months.

~

“Blessed anniversary!” Kibum cries, pulling his hands away from where they had covered Eunsook’s eyes. He watches with a hopeful smile as she takes in the cake he has made for her birth anniversary. “May this year bring you joy, hope and love,” he adds softly.

The cake is small, a violet gray in color with a singular white rose and Eunsook’s name written in white icing. A single white candle burns in the center and Eunsook laughs as she pulls her hair back, blowing it out.

“Thank you,” she says happily, pulling Kibum close and kissing his forehead. “It’s beautiful.”

“I am happy you like it,” he murmurs into her shoulder, breathing her scent. “I will slice you a piece.” They break apart, Eunsook taking the cup of coffee Kibum had prepared her in advance and sitting at the table while Kibum carefully cuts the cake so that Eunsook gets the white rose on her slice.

“Oh, Ancients,” she moans, eyes closed in delight, and he smiles proudly at her joyful response.

“Good?” he can’t help himself from asking, teasing.

“Yes!” she exclaims before eagerly taking another bite. He grins and takes a bite of his own slice.

They finish and he takes both plates and forks to the sink to rinse them off before loading them into the metal cupboard. The cake is poked with toothpicks and a thin sheet of plastic sits over the leftover pieces. Kibum pushes it to the end of the counter to the back splash and beneath the cupboard that holds the coffee cups. He stands unmoving, a hand braced at the counter and his finger poking at his chin just beneath his lips.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor pulls him out of his thoughts and he turns to see Eunsook walking to the main room. She kneels down and pulls a package out from beneath the sofa.

It is small, wrapped in plain brown paper with a thin rope and no markings, not even a name.

“From my sire,” she says with a shrug. “He often sends a gift early on the chance a storm keeps him away. In this case, he knew he would be unable to visit so…” She shrugs again and continues to hold the package out, almost as though she were offering it to Kibum.

“What do you think it is?” he asks, curious to know if Eunsook is curious.

“A book,” she answers quickly. “Always a book.” Something soft settles in her eyes and he realizes that she is in some way waiting for his permission to open the gift. And that she is excited to do so.

“Let us see what you will be reading to me these coming weeks,” he says with a smile, a hand resting briefly on Eunsook’s arm, the one holding the gift. She smiles and then begins to rip the rope off the package, the paper soon to follow.

“Oh, Ancients,” she whispers in wonder, hand caressing the cover of the tome Kibum does not recognize but can tell is a book of poetry. She opens it and begins gingerly flipping through the pages. One of the entries seems to catch her eye: he watches as she reads a poem silently, eyes crinkling in a sad smile.

Another page is turned and then another and then she is walking away, toward the sofa under from which the book had appeared and sits down with the book still open, eyes running over the poems collected within.

Kibum watches awhile longer, hesitant to break the spell the gift Eunsook’s sire has cast on his mate. It is the anniversary of her birth, and he wants her to enjoy it. He does, however, also have a question and a need and they both must be satisfied this night.

He opens his mouth to speak only to close it again when he sees a tear trail down Eunsook’s cheek even as she smiles, nodding while the poetry etches, dances and sings through her heart.

It can wait, a little while. Unlike last time, he will not let the hours build up like bricks in a wall between them.

Kibum looks at himself in the mirror.

None of it is necessary. Especially the collar. And yet. And yet...

He brushes his hair again, adjusts his collar one more time, and makes sure his tunic fits just right before he steps out of his room.

A part of him knows it may be the nearness of the Solstice that may be affecting his behavior, but another remembers how he felt in the cabin and knows he would have taken such steps eventually.

Eunsook is still nestled in the corner of the sofa where she sat when he left. She does not look up when he steps out of his room, nor when he passes the table or even when he stops just inside the main room.

A hand flutters up to his collar and he forces it back down to his side, instead smoothing the front of his tunic. Emerald green silk with silver embroidery and trim, matching pants. Prettier than usual, much finer than what he wore daily. Something to catch her eye and make clear how serious he was. The collar had just felt right. Somehow, he had missed wearing it.

“Eunsook.” His voice trembles and his fingers are again at his collar. She looks up with a smile that quickly falters, eyes blinking as she takes in the sight of him: silk suit, styled hair and bond collar.

“Kibum?” she asks, tentatively, the book slowly falling to her lap.

“It is only just-” he starts, shaking his head, fingers now tugging at the collar bound to his throat. “No, what I mean is…” Eunsook closes the book and places it on the seat beside her, folds her hands in her lap and looks up at him.

“You look beautiful, Kibum,” she says, softly, her eyes glowing. He flushes, fingers falling away from his collar and resting against his chest.

“Thank you,” he replies, keeping her gaze. “I have a request of you.” Eunsook laughs.

“Of course. Whatever I can do for you I will. What is it?” Kibum swallows, buoyed by his mate’s enthusiasm.

“Stay with me tonight.” Her eyes widen and she’s so still he isn’t sure she is still breathing. “The solstice is soon,” he continues, “and I think it would be best if we began sharing a bed before…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, pushing on to the next thought. “I want to be near your scent when my heat comes; I do not want to be frightened this time. I,” he pauses, his voice dropping, “I do not want to fight.”

“Oh, Kibum,” his mate whispers as she stands up, her arms around him before he can even blink. They are warm, strong, familiar. He breathes in her scent, his own arms around her waist.

They stand in the quiet, in each other’s arms, in a familiarity months of solitude has wrought.

~

Taemin holds Jongin’s hand from the time they leave their home to the time they are led to adjoining beds in the heat house.

He has kept his word to Minho: every day he has spent with Jongin has been with the intention of keeping his brother happy. He wakes him with a smile and leaves him at night with one as well keeping the hours in-between light and on the easiest of topics.

Jongin knows what he is doing, he is sure of it, yet plays along as though he does not. It is the gentleness in his brother’s eyes that gives him away every time, the softness of his hand at Taemin’s back when even the glimmer of anything other than pure delight creeps into Taemin’s countenance.

They are both protecting each other in these final days and as silly as Taemin feels at times he finds that he cannot stop. It is not just that he gave Minho his word, it is that it is addictive this game they are playing. There is no pain in their world of make-believe and, truly, if Taemin were forced to spend all of his days with only one person and he could not choose Kibum it would, of course, be Jongin. And so he is, on many levels, actually happy.

Except for today.

Today he holds his brother’s hand and allows himself the sorrow that bubbles around his heart in little pangs, reminders of the cracks that he has ignored these last weeks to wash over him, allows the tears he never cries to pour down his cheeks in silent sobs. He lets Jongin climb onto his bed and hold him tight, lets him argue with one of the Avowed until they go away and lets the medicine take him away from the cruelty of his reality for as long as it mercifully will allow him the reprieve.

“You still do not know my name?” she asks Taemin, the name she teases him with on the tip of his tongue but refusing to go any further. He knows her, remembers her but cannot, does not, will not…

“That’s all right,” she demurs, fading already, “you will.”

When they leave, Taemin holds Jongin’s hand tighter, smiles even brighter than before. Another crack in his heart as the countdown begins until his brother is bonded, and he is left alone. Until then, there will be joy.