The moon is full and distinct in the clear blue sky above while to the east the vibrant hues of a setting sun paint the sky crimson and gold.  Jinki stands at the patio of his home, the screen door leading to the kitchen behind him, and breathes in the scent of a fading summer.  Minjung’s bushes are heavy with blossoms and the yard is thick with lush, green grass.  He takes another breath before turning around and heading back inside.

The tiled floors click beneath his footsteps as he enters.  The main door had been left open and he leaves it open still.  Minjung is at the counter with her back to him, busying herself with preparations for a later meal.  The midnight black hair that falls to her waist is fastened tight at the top of her neck, revealing the pale line of skin where a band commonly lies around .

Jinki sneaks his arms around her waist and nuzzles against her neck, inhaling her scent, eyes closed with a smile on his face.  “The moon is full tonight,” he murmurs, “I’d like to take a run through the woods if my mate will allow it.”

“You’re the alpha,” Minjung laughs.  “Are you asking permission to scout the village lands?”  A giggle tickles as Jinki gently turns her around.

“The sun will soon set and I don’t want to leave you and Jongin alone in the dark.” 

Minjung shakes her and sighs at her mate.  “All these years and you still worry.”

“Always,” Jinki murmurs, leaning in and kissing the nose he had only just nuzzled.

“Jongin and I will be fine,” Minjung assures him, her own arms coming up to rest around Jinki’s waist.  “It is mid-summer and everyone is resting.  Take your time and enjoy your run.  A pot of stew and a cup of cool drink will be waiting for you when you return.”  She kisses her mate’s lips and hums when he leans in and kisses her again, longer than the one she had offered.                                                                                              

He leans their foreheads together and whispers, “I love you” with a smile.

“I love you,” she whispers in return.

Their son is playing quietly in the main room, a pile of toys surrounding him creating the impression of an explosion with Jongin at its center.  His hair is tied back in a band and it bounces lightly when he looks up expectantly at the sound of his name and asks eagerly if he can come along when told of where his sire is going.

“No,” Jinki chuckles, glancing at his mate who smiles at their son’s enthusiasm.  “It is late and you need to go to bed soon.  Also,” he continues as Jongin opens his mouth to protest, “you are too young yet.  Four-year-old cubs should not be running around the woods at night.  We will go another day.  When the sun shines.”

“Tomorrow?” Jongin asks hopefully.  Jinki turns again to Minjung who only tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, silently teasing her mate.

“We shall see.  Now,” he continues, turning back to his son, “I would like a hug and a kiss before I go.  When I return you will be asleep and it will be too late then for me to have them.”

Jongin rises hurriedly, a small collection of toys that had been sitting in his lap falling to the floor.  He steps carefully over the others strewn about and opens his arms for his sire, squealing joyfully when he’s scooped up into a strong embrace.  Jinki squeezes his son and peppers his cheeks with kisses.

“I love you,” he declares, looking into his son’s eyes and marveling again at the miracle that is the child in his arms. 

“I love you too, Appa,” Jongin says, grabbing Jinki by the face and giving him a kiss.  He bumps his sire on the forehead and they’re both laughing when he’s placed gently back on the ground.              

The child runs carefully back through the toys and plops down, gathering the ones that had been in his lap back up and returning to play.  Jinki watches from the doorway a few seconds more before turning to Minjung, patting her on the arm, and moving through the house and out the back door.

A handful of chairs, one for each of them and a spare for Minjung’s plants, sit lined up on the paved deck as he passes.  His steps go from firm on the cobbled sidewalk to soft on the grassy lawn to a bit unsteady on the pebbled drive.  The dirt road at the end of the drive leads to the city if he turns right.  Tonight he turns left to head to the woods.

 

The first hour beneath towering firs had passed quickly.  The full moon glows through the branches and what seems to be a thousand stars glitter in the sky above.  The ground is damp and cool beneath Jinki’s paws, his wolf form keeping him warm from a chill breeze in the summer night air.  Everything had been as he expected: Beautiful.

The last ten minutes, though, have caught him by surprise and have had him sniffing the air and following a scent that doesn’t belong in the stillness of the trees: The scent of a lone wolf, a cub at that.  Finally, he hears the faint sound of soft cries, the gentle whimpers of one who is trying to hold back tears.  He follows them both, scent and sound, until he finds a clearing where a small child sits upon an enormous rock with their knees pulled up to their chin. 

A little boy.

An omega.

An enormous bush rustles gently in the breeze just beside him and he can see that the child is shivering.  He is wearing only a pair of shorts and a sleeveless top, feet bare and with hair that brushes his shoulders.  As Jinki begins to draw close, he swallows a bit of rage and fear when he realizes that the child cannot be much more than Jongin’s age.

He stays in wolf form, stepping gently around the bush.  He sends out a sense of calm that the child immediately responds to, turning to him and rubbing his face with the back of a hand.  When he doesn’t run away, Jinki continues toward him, lying down at his feet.

“Hello little one,” he thinks to the child.   “I am Jinki.  Are you lost?”

The child shakes his head and Jinki can see that his eyes are b with tears.  They’re rubbed away again by the back of another hand.  “No,” he says quietly.  “I’m Taemin.”

Jinki laughs and sends out more calm when he sees that Taemin becomes upset at his response.

“Do you know where you are, Taemin?” he asks, hoping this time that he has phrased the question better.  To his relief, and to his heartbreak, the boy shakes his head and pulls his knees closer.  “Are you hun-would you like something to eat?  My mate is waiting for me with stew and a cool drink.  You can come with me and have some as well.”

Taemin nods and climbs quickly off the rock, grabbing at Jinki’s fur when he nearly falls over.  “That happens a lot,” he says, “whenever I stand up too fast.  There’s not much to eat in the forest.” 

Jinki only nods.  “Climb on, little one.  I will carry you there.  It’ll be warmer that way, too.”  The eagerness with which Taemin climbs on his back, he a stranger, has Jinki’s heart breaking a little further.

Taemin rides on Jinki’s back beneath the full moon with his small fists clutching at Jinki’s fur.  The wolf form Jinki stays in keeps them both warm as they slowly make their way back to Jinki’s village.  Taemin’s hold tightens as they get closer and they’re in view of lights burning in the dark when the pain becomes too much.  Jinki stops and looks over his shoulder, nuzzling his snout against the child’s cheek.

“Are you alright?” he asks gently.

“No,” is the confused response he’s met with, the child looking down at him with a frown, “I told you, I’m Taemin.” 

Jinki snorts and shakes his head.  “Is there anything you are frightened of?”

“Alphas,” the boy whispers, eyes turning back to the village that lay before them. 

Jinki’s brow furrows, wondering how the boy has not noticed yet.  “I am an alpha,” he says, hoping that the revelation doesn’t scare the child. 

To his relief, Taemin only sits up and frowns.  “You said you were Jinki.” 

Jinki fights the urge to laugh, remembering how Taemin had responded the last time he did.  “Jinki is my name, an alpha is what I am.”

“Oh.”  Taemin seems to ponder the explanation, lost in thought.  Suddenly his eyes begin to brim with tears that are becoming all too familiar and it’s Jinki’s turn to be confused when he’s asked, “Does that mean you’re going to leave me too?”

“What?  No, little one, no.  Remember as I said, we’re going to get food.  And it is very late now so when you get sleepy you can rest.  Then in the morning you can tell me all about your adventure in the forest.”  He nuzzles Taemin’s cheek again and then looks up expectantly, sending out a wave of calm.  To his relief, Taemin nods.  “I do want food.  I am hungry.” 

Jinki’s eyes soften as he teases, “I thought you were Taemin.”

“Taemin’s my name,” Taemin replies quickly, “Hungry is what I am.” 

Jinki chuckles as he begins to walk again.

 

Minjung is waiting for them on the patio when Jinki’s paws touch the cool pebbles that mark his  arrival home.  She nods in understanding even as her eyes widen when she sees the child on Jinki’s back.  He kneels to the ground and Taemin slowly slips off, shyly holding on to a tuft of Jinki’s fur as Minjung steps closer.

“Would you like something to eat?” she asks quietly, holding out a hand.  Taemin looks into Jinki’s wolf eyes before nodding and taking hold of her open hand.

Jinki quickly shifts and joins them, smiling when he sees that Taemin is curled up into Minjung’s embrace and that his mate is feeding the child a bowl of stew that was probably meant for him upon his return.

“There’s more,” Minjung says absently, spooning another bite for Taemin.  Jinki fixes himself a bowl and then takes a seat across from the pair, the wood table worn smooth beneath his palm.  It’s only when he himself begins to eat in the light of the kitchen that he sees just how gaunt and pale the child is.  The stew in front of him grows cool and he hands it over to Minjung when Taemin finishes the one she had been feeding him.

They watch the boy in silence, the occasional look caught by the other full of meaning.  Jinki watches Minjung feed the child they’ve only just met and wonders how it feels as though he were watching his mate feed a son they’d raised from birth. 

Once he has eaten, Taemin’s eyes begin to droop and he curls up even tighter into Minjung’s arms.  She looks at Jinki who wonders how anyone could abandon a child in the woods.  Especially alphas.

“He needs to be bathed and we need to get him into some clean clothes,” he says blankly, suddenly noticing how dirty the child is.  Little things he hadn’t seen in the darkness because he had been too busy pulling the child out into the light.  Now that they’re here, he can see all the details.

“He needs sleep more,” Minjung protests, looking down at the child.  Jinki shakes his head, ending the argument before it can begin.

He takes Taemin into the bathing room and warms a cloth with water.  Care is made to ask the child before anything is cleaned and in the end, he is scrubbed from head to foot, bits of dirt and even a small leaf washed out of his hair.  The clothes he wore are given to Minjung who returns with a pair of Jongin’s sleeping pants, undergarments, and a cotton shirt.  Taemin is nearly asleep by the time he is dressed and completely so by the time he is tucked into the bed they keep for guests. 

Jinki leaves the door open and a pale lamp glowing in case the child wakes in the night.

Minjung waits for him in the hall, arms tight across her waist, eyes wide.  “What happened?!” she whispers tersely, her body vibrating with anxiety.

 Jinki takes her by the elbow and pulls her into their room, sitting them both down on the bed.  “He said that alphas left him.”

“Alphas?” 

Jinki nods and runs a hand through his hair.  “When we got close to the village he became frightened and when I asked why, he said that he was it was alphas.  Minjung, he was alone out there.  There was no other scent for miles: His was the only one.  And you saw him.  He…”  Jinki can’t even finish the sentence, they both know what they saw.  “Of course, I couldn’t leave him there.”

“Of course not,” Minjung answers quickly, head shaking.  “What do we do now?  When he wakes up?”

“We find out more.  He said his name is Taemin and that alphas left him in the woods.  Maybe he can tell us more now that he won’t be hungry and tired and scared.”  There’s a pause in the silence of the house, two little boys sleeping in rooms directly opposite each other while the guardians think.

“Minjung,” Jinki begins carefully, “if there is no objection, if the priestesses allow it, would you…that is…”

“Yes,” Minjung answers, “I would.  It feels right, doesn’t it?  Even though we’ve only just met him.  I felt it at the moment I saw him, as though it were fate binding him to us.” 

Jinki chuckles and nods.  “I did as well.  And even more so when I saw him with you,” he adds, tucking her hair behind an ear.  “Then it’s settled.  In the morning we’ll learn more about Taemin.  And, if it is fate, we will be learning more about the boy who will be our son.”

~

Jinki groans as his body shakes, eyes opening and immediately squinting shut again.  The room glows bright with summer morning sunshine and it’s only the small hands still jostling his shoulders that makes him blink his eyes open against the light.  As his vision slowly clears, Jinki finds himself face to face with his son whose eyes are wide and mouth slightly open.

“Appa!” he whispers urgently.  “There’s a boy in our house!”

“Is he awake?” Jinki asks hoarsely, beginning to sit up.  He pats the bed beside him before looking over and finding it empty with the sheet pushed back in a pile.  With Minjung gone he’s not worried; perhaps she and Taemin are eating together.

“No!” Jongin whispers again.  “He’s sleeping!”

“Ah, that is good,” Jinki says as he turns to drop his feet onto the floor.  Jongin moves so that he’s leaning on the bed with his elbows, hands folded, looking up at his sire as Jinki stretches his arms over his head.  Jinki twists his back and then his neck before taking a deep breath.  He looks down at Jongin and ruffles his hair affectionately.  “We should go have some food while we wait for him to wake.  He had a big adventure yesterday and we should let him rest.”

“Where did he go?!” Jongin cries eagerly as Jinki stands up.  Jinki puts his hand at the back of his son’s head and leads him gently out of the room.

“He’ll tell us when he wakes up.”  The kitchen is empty when they arrive and Jinki frowns briefly before stepping toward the window and looking out.  Minjung’s wide-brimmed hat is barely visible beneath the pane.  He makes his way to the door and steps out onto the patio into the cool of the morning.

“Minj!” he calls, startling her from where she sits kneeling in the grass, gloves caked in dark earth with a pile of weeds poking out of a straw basket beside her.  Her midnight black hair shimmers in the sun when it catches the morning rays, flowing down to the small of her back from beneath her hat.

“You’re up!” she calls back, sitting up.  “I woke early.”  She looks down at the flower bed, a clean row of pastel flowers surrounded by overturned dirt and a growing collection of berry plants.  Looking back at her mate, she smiles, albeit sadly.  “I needed something to do while we waited.”

“What would you like to eat?” Jinki asks, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.  Mates for eight years and soul bonds for ten, he knows how helpless she feels right now and he wants to hold her and tell her it will be all right.  They don’t know that yet, though, and she won’t want him to until they do.  Instead, he offers what he can, which for now is a meal.

“Oats,” she answers, her smile turning happy, “with fruit.”  Jinki nods and turns back into the house, leaving the main door open and the screen closed.

Jongin is standing at the table when Jinki steps inside, fingers gripping a chair as he stares down the hall.  He turns back quickly when he sees that his sire has returned.

“Amma would like oats and fruit today,” Jinki explains.  “We need to make a lot, too.  Enough for us and for our guest.”

“We have a guest?!” Jongin exclaims, eyes again wide and he sounds so surprised that Jinki nearly bursts out laughing.  “The boy, Jongin.  The one still sleeping.”

“Oh!” his son says, nodding slowly.

“His name is Taemin,” Jinki continues, pulling out a pot and a bowl along with a knife and a towel, “and he was very hungry last night.”  A pile of fruit is put into a colander and he begins to run water over them, rolling them around with his hands.  When he’s finished, he hands them over one by one and lets his son dry them off while he sets fire to the pellets beneath the stove.  “I think he’ll be very hungry this morning as well.”

“Why was he so hungry?” Jongin asks, placing the sixth pear into the nearly full bowl. 

Setting the pot of oats to cook on the stove, Jinki thinks of the innocence of his son before answering.  “His adventure had been very long.  And big adventures make us hungry, don’t you think?”

“That’s true,” Jongin answers, nodding sagely. 

Jinki slices the fruit while the oats cook and does his best to distract his son from further questions with stories of how the moon shone and the way the stars sparkled.  A promised trip by the end of the week has Jongin vibrating with excitement by the time the last pear is chopped.

Minjung joins them just as the oats finish cooking, another few minutes left on an empty burner to cool while Jongin sets the table with four bowls and spoons.  Jinki pulls out a bottle of milk from the cold cupboard, courtesy of their neighbor’s cow, and pours the three of them each a glass.  Minjung is the one to offer a prayer of thanks to the Ancients before they begin their meal, Jongin the one to stare down the hall with every bite.

They’re halfway through their bowls of oats when Taemin emerges bleary eyed, a fist rubbing away sleep and hair that is perfectly coiffed on one side while an absolute mess on the other.

He smiles in familiarity when he sees Jinki and Minjung, but his mouth drops open and his eyes widen in delight at the sight of Jongin whose spoon stops in the air between his bowl and his mouth.  It clatters and a little bit of oat splatters on the table as Jongin drops it and scoots out of his chair to hide behind Minjung, her hand immediately coming up to comb soothingly through his hair.

“Hi!” Taemin says, leaning so that he can see Jongin better where he hides behind his dam.  Jinki can see his shy son immediately tighten up, the excitement of a new boy in his home now overwhelmed at having to actually talk to him.  “I’m Taemin!” 

Jongin glances at Jinki who tilts his chin at his son.  “I’m Jongin,” the little boy replies softly.

“I know!” Taemin says eagerly, stepping forward and leaning the other way so that now he was looking around the back of Minjung and trying to get a better view of the hiding child.  “Jinki told me.” 

At the use of his sire’s name being spoken by a cub, Jongin frowns and leans over, making Taemin lean back the way he had been before.  “Don’t call him that,” he admonishes.

“What?  Jinki?” 

Jongin steps out from his mother’s calming embrace and back behind his chair.  “I told you not to call him that.” 

Now it’s Taemin’s turn to frown, tiny fists on his hips.  “That’s his name,” he argues, “and what he told me to call him.” 

Jongin turns to his sire in shock.  “Appa!” he cries, “he’s young!  Young aren’t supposed to call guardians by their names!”  Jinki looks at Minjung who’s looking at him with a pained expression and shaking her head subtly: This is new territory for them both.

“Normally that is true,” Jinki begins slowly, “but Taemin is a guest and his rules might be different from ours.  Our rules are for us, we don’t force them on other people.  Especially guests.”  Jongin nods and immediately turns back to Taemin.

“Do you call guardians by their first names?”  Taemin looks between the three of them before asking, “What are guardians?”

“The old people,” Jongin answers before either of his parents can think to do so.  Jinki frowns while Minjung muffles a laugh with a quiet cough.  “The very old people are elders.”

Taemin’s brow furrows as he asks, “Do you mean like the council?”  Jongin smiles in relief and throws up his hands.

“Yes!” he cries even as his sire answers, “Perhaps.”  Jinki knows that the same words can occasionally mean different things in different communities and this may be one of those moments.  And he knows that his son does not know that.  “Who is on the council?” 

The way Taemin stiffens and his eyes grow guarded is startling and Jinki knows the answer even before Taemin whispers, “The alphas.”

“Then no, little one,” Jinki says, standing up and pulling Taemin closer so that the child stands beside him as he sits back down and they are now face to face.  “That is not what the elders are.  They are only the very old, the ones who have sired and birthed young and are now the elders of many generations.  They are the ones we go to for guidance.  We have a council of elders, that is what Jongin means, and they are chosen to be our leaders in certain matters.  Guardians are the sires and dams of young.  Minjung and I are Jongin’s guardians.”  He pauses, reluctant to ask.  “Do you know the names of your guardians?” 

Taemin shakes his head quickly.  “We don’t have guardians.  Only the alphas.  Only the council.” 

Jinki frowns.  “No omegas?”  Taemin shakes his head again.  Jinki nods because he has no other answer to that, only more questions, and Taemin is beginning to look scared again.

“Do you like oats?” Jongin asks quietly.  Jinki and Taemin both look over to where Jongin is still standing behind his chair.  He walks around the table and takes the pot in his hand, pulling it toward Taemin’s empty bowl. 

With the spoon in one hand and the handle of the pot in the other, he says, “We made a lot.  Here.”  Jinki watches quietly while his son scoops out three spoonfuls into the empty bowl before putting the spoon back and looking up at Taemin with hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know,” Taemin answers, “I’ve never tried it.”

“Appa made it.  I think it’s good,” Jongin says firmly, head nodding, “and there’s also fruit.  And milk.  And I can make a sandwich if you don’t like it.”  Jinki looks over at Minjung who’s watching their son softly with a hand covering .  Taemin slips away, taking his seat and a tentative bite.  Within minutes, the boys are laughing while Taemin quickly finishes the bowl of oats.

They let the boys run around in the yard after Taemin finishes eating.  Shouts and shrieks come in bursts through the open door.  Jinki stands at the window and watches with Minjung who rests her head on his shoulder and his arms around her waist.

“He looks happy, healthy,” she starts, “why would they leave him behind?”

“Maybe it’s because he’s an omega,” Jinki answers quietly.  The thought had crossed his mind when Taemin said there were no omegas on the council.  Minjung stiffens in his arms and he holds her tighter.  It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened.  But to have it happen to one so young…

“If that’s true, he needs to stay here with us.  We need to protect him.” 

Jinki turns his head and kisses his mate’s temple, leaning his forehead against her hair and breathing in her scent.  He lets his arms slip away and she stands up, still standing at the window watching the boys.  He stops halfway to the door and turns back to look at her.  “I need you to keep Jongin busy while I talk to Taemin.  He’ll want to listen and I don’t want him there in case…”  Minjung bites her lip and nods, arms coming up to cross at her waist before turning back to the little boys running around the yard.

The screen door opens wide and Jinki leans out into the summer sun to call to them.  “Jongin!  Taemin!  Come inside now!” 

Jongin begins to run even as Taemin stops and calls out a confused “Why?”  Jinki’s ready to explain but is stopped when his son turns around, fists pressed against slim hips.

“Because Appa said so!” he cries in a tone that brokers no arguments.  Taemin huffs before quickly following behind.

Soon they’re back inside with raspy breaths and pink cheeks.  Minjung forces a smile as she reaches out a hand for Jongin and it’s clear to both of the children that something is wrong.  Jongin looks back at Taemin sadly as he’s led away, waving over his shoulder as his dam takes him back outside, closing the door behind them both.  Taemin waves back weakly before slowly looking up at Jinki with eyes that begin to glisten.

“They’ll be back, little one,” Jinki says encouragingly, taking Taemin by the shoulder and leading him down the hall toward the family room.  Jongin’s toys are there, and plenty of sunlight.  It’s bright and cheery, and he hopes that the blend of the two, along with the quiet of the house, will give Taemin enough comfort to feel free to talk.

There’s a hearth just inside the door with a wooden trunk beside it.  A picture window glows bright across the room and a dark red sofa sits beneath it.  Jinki points out the wooden trunk filled with Jongin’s toys.

“You can play with any of them.  They’re Jongin’s, but he knows to share.”  Taemin nods but doesn’t make a move to take any, doesn’t even sit down.  He’s standing near the doorway and looks ready to run.

Jinki takes a seat on the sofa beneath the window and chews on his lip.  He leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands folded as if in prayer.  He smiles as he says, “Tell me about your adventures in the woods.”  To his surprise, Taemin’s lip begins to quiver.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me there.” 

Jinki steps up and Taemin takes a step back.  Jinki takes a step back of his own, both hands raised in easy surrender.  “No, no Taemin. No.  I only wanted to know how you got there.  I would never leave you there, I swear.”  He sits back down again, nodding.  “You’re safe here.”

Taemin begins to nod too as he takes a shuddering breath.  He glances down at the open trunk and pulls out a pair of horses.  They begin galloping across the floor as he sits down before the hearth.  Jinki watches quietly while Taemin plays, wondering if he should even ask more questions, yet knowing that he needs to.

“Do you know how long you were in the woods?”  The horses stop moving and he can see Taemin’s fingers turning red from holding them tightly.

“No.  Only…”

“Yes?” Jinki prods.  Taemin looks at him sadly as he says, “The moon grew big while I waited.”

“Very big?”  The child shrugs and turns back to his horses, moving them again though slowly.  “Where is your home, little one?”  Taemin doesn’t look up, eyes focused on the horses.

“What is a home?” 

Jinki thinks, puffing out his cheeks.  “The house you lived in.”

“What is a house?”

“This,” Jinki answers, waving around the room.  Taemin looks up and looks around.  “We didn’t have a house,” he answers, turning back to the horses.  Abruptly, he drops them and turns to the trunk, digging out a few more animals and a pair of dolls.

“What did you sleep in?” Jinki asks, growing confused.  “At night?”

“I don’t know what they’re called,” Taemin answers absently.  “We put them up with poles and took them down again when we moved.” 

“You lived many places?”  Taemin shrugs non-committedly.  In absence of a response, Jinki watches Taemin at play and thinks.  He’s small, thin, a similar build to his own son but in some ways a bit more delicate.  Nothing distinct about him, nothing remarkable other than that he was an omega.  And even that wasn’t remarkable.  “Do you know how many birth anniversaries you have celebrated, little one?” 

At that, Taemin shoots up onto his knees, the toys in his hands dropped to the ground and he proudly holds up four fingers.  “This moon cycle was my fourth!” he answers excitedly. 

“Oh!” Jinki says in surprise.  “Congratulations.”  Taemin nods proudly before picking the toys back up and beginning again to play.  Jinki watches and thinks of how it must be fate that an omega child his son’s age has crossed their paths.  “Taemin?”

“Hmm?” the boy answers, eyes still on the horses.

“Would you like to stay here?”  Taemin freezes and Jinki’s chest aches at the hope in the little boy’s eyes when he finally looks up.

“To live?  Like a home?”

“Yes,” Jinki says with a smile, “like a home.”

Taemin nods and carefully replies, “Yes”, grasping tentatively at the life Jinki is offering him.

“We would like you to stay here, too,” he says, “and we are going to do everything we can to make sure that you can.”  He grunts as the little boy jumps into his lap, arms gripping his neck so tightly that he has difficulty breathing.  It’s no surprise to him that Taemin is shaking, and he holds the child tightly and closes his eyes with faith that fate is on their side.

Jinki holds Taemin and rocks him for a little bit, promises again that he will be safe.  He asks a few more questions, mostly dull ones like the types of food Taemin likes to eat, nodding in agreement when the boy reveals that he likes most anything except cucumbers.

After a time, Taemin asks if he can play again with Jongin, already standing and nearly to the door.

“Of course,” Jinki answers, immediately finding himself alone in the room with the sound of bare feet pattering down the hall.  “Taemin!” he calls loudly, the pattering abruptly stopping and then growing louder as they come closer.  Taemin’s eyes are wide when he steps back in the doorway and he holds both hands tightly together at his waist.

“Yes?”

“The toys,” Jinki says, pointing to the scattered mess on the floor, “they need to be put back in the box.”  Taemin looks down and then over his shoulder, obviously fighting the urge to leave both the toys and Jinki behind in favor of finding his new friend again.  Quickly he turns back and falls to his knees, grabbing each piece at random and throwing them haphazardly into the chest.  Much like Jongin, Jinki thinks.  As soon as he’s done, he hurries toward the door, pausing at the threshold to quickly ask, “Now?”

“Now,” Jinki confirms with a nod and a laugh, listening as the footsteps again patter down the hall.  It’s not until the back door bangs open and he can hear voices rise from outside that he realizes that Taemin is still wearing sleep clothes.  He sighs and closes his eyes at the thought, knowing that Minjung won’t mind.

When he joins them all outside, Jongin is roaring while chasing Taemin with a garden hose and the other child is shrieking in delight as he rapidly grows soaking wet.  Minjung sits on the patio with her gardening hat still on, and she raises a hand to her shoulder when she feels his palm rest there.

The boys are careful to keep away from her garden at the side of the yard and the flower beds that sit tucked between the pathway to the drive and the house.   Only the floral bushes and the grass itself will suffer their watery play and both are hearty enough to survive it.  Jinki is only glad that no wash hangs on the clothes lines and that the boys are still too short to be harmed by the tight cords.

“They’re so happy together,” Minjung says quietly, almost in awe, “I’ve never seen Jongin at ease like this with anyone other than Minho.”  Jinki chuckles and sits down beside her.

“Do you think he is Jongin’s soul bond as well?” 

Minjung glances at him and laughs before turning her attention back to the children.  Taemin has control of the water hose now and it’s Jongin who shrieks as he dashes across the yard away from the spray.

“Of course not.  One soul, one soul bond.  And besides, they’re both omegas.  No, I think it’s just…”

“Fate.” 

Minjung looks over at her mate and then back at the boys.  “Maybe,” she says, watching her son and the little boy who is stranger yet doesn’t seem to be one at play.

“Either way,” Jinki continues, “we need to consult the council.  They’ll know what to do.  Obviously, Jongin cannot come with us, nor can Taemin.”  He chuckles.  “It will be a chance for Taemin to meet Minho.  We can see just how well he fits into our little family.”  Minjung laughs at that, reaching out to tap Jinki’s arm.

“Jongin will love that,” she says lightly, “He already believes Taemin to be a gift from the Ancients.” 

Jinki snorts in surprise.  “What?”

“Yes.”  Turning back to the boys, she sighs.  “He told me so when we waited for you to finish speaking.  A surprise gift since he was in the woods.  And now he’ll get to share him with Minho.”  Jinki doesn’t answer, only wonders at his son and how easily he sees the good in people, despite so often being shy of them.

The boys are bathed, Taemin having watched in wonderment as the water filled up the claw-footed tub.  More than once he had run his hand beneath the running hot water and then held it up before his face to stare at the droplets.  Jinki doesn’t quite understand his fascination as he had already seen running water in the yard.  But he doesn’t question it and instead let Jongin do most of the leading during their bath.  Another moment of wonderment came when Jongin was instructed to brush his teeth and Taemin was handed a spare toothbrush that he only stared at.  Again, Jongin was allowed to lead his friend through a new experience.

Now they stand at the back door, Jongin vibrating with excitement as he holds Taemin’s hand and tells him about how wonderful Minho is and how much fun they will have.  Taemin looks less sure and Jinki thinks it’s because it probably never occurred to him that he would have to share his new friend, certainly less than a day after meeting him.

They’re waiting on Minjung who is hurrying from the back, her black mating bond collar now fastened around her neck and her hair pulled modestly back.  Despite the heat, her top has sleeves that fall halfway down her forearms, highlighting the bite mark on her left wrist.  The boys, in contrast, wear shorts and sleeveless tops.  Jinki himself is dressed similarly to Minjung, modesty in favor of comfort as a show of respect to the council of elders.  

“Wait, wait,” Minjung mutters, rifling through a bag slung across her chest.  She pulls out a touchpad and holds out the lit screen.  “Taemin, I need you to press your hand to this for me.”

“What is it?” Taemin asks even as he steps forward, Jongin still holding his hand.

“A palm reader,” she says as she presses her hand over the back of his and waits for the beep to signify that his print has been read.  When it’s finished, she ruffles his hair and puts the pad back in the bag.  “That will help the council make their decision.”

“How?”  Minjung looks over at Jinki who sighs at the one and only reason Taemin might not be able to stay.

“If you are lost, little one,” he says softly, “because you were stolen, the ones you were taken from may want you back.  And if that has happened it needs to be known before we can make a bond with you.  But,” he adds quickly, seeing the slow panic fill Taemin and Jongin’s eyes, “not to the alphas.  Never to the alpha’s.  The council will be told what they did.”  Jongin nods and squeezes Taemin’s hand, leans over and whispers something into his friend’s ear that has Taemin nodding too.

“Good.”

“Are you ready?” Jinki asks, chin tilting toward the door.

“No,” Taemin says, shaking his head.  “What’s a bond?”

Motor vehicles are another new experience for Taemin and Jinki’s not sure how much of his explanation about the different kind of bonds there are that the child actually hears.  He knows that Jongin will do his best to explain once he and Minjung are gone.  And soul bonds, too, since his son has had the unique experience of knowing his for the last four and a half years; since he was three days old and Minho only two years.

Minho stands between his parents when they pull into the drive, grinning when he sees Jongin step out of the car.  The two fly to each other, gripping tight as though they have not seen each other in years when in truth it has only been three days.  Taemin steps out of the vehicle timidly, eyes widening in what is becoming a familiar fashion and in this moment Jinki truly understands his awe.

Minho’s family is one of the wealthiest he knows and they do not live in the village.  They live in a small city just outside of the village and they do so in a home that has three stories, a tennis court, a basketball court, a swimming pool, and easy access to a stable.  He knows that if they chose to they could live in an even more opulent dwelling, but that they stay where they are in part so that Minho can be near Jongin.  Their elder son stands back and bows when he sees Minjung step around the car.  Always good manners, Jinki thinks proudly. 

Minho follows suit once he and Jongin let go of each other, nodding to Jinki.  His attention then turns to Taemin who is still staring up at the highest windows of the house and who jumps when Minho’s friendly “Hi!” shakes him out of his reverie.

“Hi,” he says, suddenly the shy one.  There’s no one for him to hide behind, though, but he doesn’t have to because soon Jongin is linking their arms and telling Minho that Taemin is his new friend.

Jinki waves to his mate’s cousins and waits as Minho’s sire and Minjung hug their farewells.  They too saw each other only three days ago. 

The ride to the council is quiet with Minjung chewing on her lip and absently tapping at Jinki’s hip with her finger.  A call had been made before they left, a wrinkled face watching in surprise from the communication pad as Jinki outlined the story of how he had found the lone omega cub out in the woods, and how the omega cub had said he came to be there.

“This is most unusual,” the elder alpha had said, face poking out of a pearl gray habit.  “Yes, you should come in at once.”  Now at the council chambers, Jinki holds Minjung’s hand tightly and waits for the elders to call them in. 

“There have been no reports of a lost cub and he fits no description of any neighboring clans,” the alpha from earlier declares.  “And the palm print provided has led to nothing.  The elders have determined that six months must be allowed to pass between the date of his finding and that wherein an official claim may be made.  At that time a Ceremony of Acceptance may be held.” 

Jinki squeezes Minjung’s hand and nods.  “We look forward to that day.”

On the ride back to pick up the boys, Minjung chuckles and pats at Jinki’s hip.  “Six months.  Six days after the anniversary of Jongin’s birth.  Less than a week.  He truly is a gift from the Ancients.”

Days turn into weeks which turn into months.  A handful of Jongin’s old clothes are mixed into a pile of new ones bought just for Taemin, a few new toys in the wooden chest, though it doesn’t matter as the boys share everything equally.  Including the sickness that keeps them curled up in bed together with matching fevers for nearly a week.  The heat of summer cools into autumn and the extra plate at the table, the extra mouth to feed, the extra hands to help clean up the mess they’ve helped make are all welcome and familiar, the previous absence of which already is forgotten.  Soon the yard is full of snow and a pair of boys who chase each other with balls that splatter into icy white puffs.  A new bed is put into an old room, one left empty for more than six years when Taemin arrived on Jinki’s back.

They never speak of the first cub born to them, he and Minjung, the one fate sought fit to slip out of their lives when they had only just felt the warmth of his body in their arms.  Another little boy, an alpha who would have carried on the name of Jinki’s clan if he had lived and bonded and had sired young.  None of it happened, no list of descendants to add to the newborn’s name.  Only a date of a birth and a date of a death that were nearly the same.

Occasionally, Jinki will catch Minjung watching closely the youth born the same season as that of their firstborn, a hand at her collar with the other wrapped tight around her waist and resting on her hip.  She watches them as though she were a scientist observing another species in their natural habitat: They belong to the same planet but not to the same world.  The marked knowledge that these children live while hers has died is not something she will speak of, but she will think of it and watch them when she thinks her mate is not looking.

And he tries not to look, tries to give her that little bit of quiet she needs to be alone in her grief.  Even on the Holy Day of Mourning.  Even though it means fighting every urge he has as a mate and as an alpha to protect her.  Protection is what he’s meant to give her but he can only do so if he leaves her to mourn in silence.  He does so against his nature because his bond with her is both of mating and of love and he would endure any suffering if it meant that she would have even a bit of peace. 

Now they have two cubs again, two boys who are both omegas and who have been calling themselves ‘brothers’ almost as soon as they met.  They want him to stay.  They didn’t either of them realize how much they both wanted him to stay until he arrived.  A surprise, one they didn’t even know they wanted until he was received.   

Tonight, Jinki watches from the doorway of the main room while a fire crackles behind a mesh screen and two little boys play on the ground.  It is the anniversary of Jongin’s birth, a day they had counted down to with eager anticipation for nearly six months.  Less than a week sits between this night and when they will perform the Ceremony of Acceptance and Taemin too will become their son.   

Which means that Jinki must now find him an alpha to covenant with.

A covenant for Jongin had been settled within days of his birth when two-year-old Minho had asked why little newborn Jongin glowed.  It was a pairing made easier by Minho’s sire being a cousin to Minjung.

As Jongin grew, every visit with Minho was met with delight: Giggles and kicking feet when a baby, happy cries of “Minnow!” when he began to toddle and talk.  And when he was two he had looked up at his sire, brows furrowed and asked, “Appa, why aren’t you and Amma shiny?  Why is it only Minho?”  Jinki had only chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair, doing his best to explain soul bonds to a little boy who still rode in a car seat during trips to town.  Now Jongin was five and would have a Ceremony of Intention in ten years.  Three years after that he would be bonded to Minho and then…

Jinki sighs, watching his little boy playing on the ground and already wishing he could turn back time to when he was even smaller.

“What are you thinking?” Minjung asks, arms wrapping around her mate’s waist and head resting on his shoulder. 

“That our son is growing up far too quickly.  And that we will need to find an alpha for Taemin to covenant with.” 

Minjung hums and Jinki puts his hands over the ones she has at his waist.  “We were lucky,” she says softly, “that it was Minho.”

“It was already going to be Minho,” Jinki points out.

“Yes.  But it might not have been.  And for that we were lucky.  It will be harder with Taemin.”

“Maybe,” Jinki concedes, “though maybe not.  What do you think of Eunsook?”

“Oh!” Minjung’s arms pull away and she steps in front of Jinki, eyes shining and smile bright.  “Of course!  Why didn’t I think of her?”

“Because her parents are rebellious.”  Jinki takes her hand and tugs her close, slipping an arm around her shoulders.  “They’ve softened these years, though.  Especially since Sunyoung…”  He stops and Minjung places a hand at his chest, his regret thumping beneath her fingers for bringing up sorrow on a day of celebration.  “Well, in any case, I think we should at least ask and see if they would be willing to let the children meet.” 

Minjung nods quietly.  “Jongin will be bonded soon,” she says softly, her voice wistful.

“I know,” Jinki replies, his heart agreeing even as his mind argues that thirteen years is still a long time to have their child in the home.  Not e-nough, his heart beats.  Not e-nough. 

“Before that the Ceremony of Intention.”

“Yes.”

“And then the heat houses.” 

Jinki nods and tugs Minjung closer.  The thought of his son entering a cycle of heats is too much.  Knowing that he will be taken care of, that an alpha will be waiting to care for him is a relief, but it is still too much to think of while he watches him still a five-year-old at play with dolls and trucks and toy animals.

“We should take them to evening meal.  They must be hungry by now.  They are always hungry.”

“Let them play a little longer,” Minjung requests, voice soft.  “I want to remember this.” 

Jinki nods and turns to kiss his mate on the forehead, turning back and watching the boys at play.

Jinki invites every member of the village to the Ceremony of Acceptance, and the temple is full of familiar faces when he and Minjung take their places at the altar.  Jongin holds Taemin’s hand as his parents recite the ancient vows.  Taemin watches them both adoringly and it is by Jinki’s own hand that the boy’s temples are blessed with green paste. 

“Congratulations,” the priestess says warmly, “you are now the guardians of an omega child.  Another one,” she adds quickly when both boys turn to her with identical frowns.  When they step off of the altar it as a family bonded by ceremony, acknowledged by the community and bound by the customs of their faith.  More than that, they share a familial bond, one that more than once has Taemin rubbing his chest in wonder, a sight that warms Jinki’s heart.

That same night he sends word to his cousin.

Winter means that Onew will no longer be working in the fields and will have time to travel.  Sunyoung’s recent illness, however, may keep him at home which means that it may be up to Jinki to bring Taemin to meet Eunsook.  Jinki spends the days waiting for a response, wishing his cousin would rely less on paper and more on screens: He would like to see his face rather than read his words.  A letter arrives a week later with a promise of his cousins’ arrival a week after that. 

“We should prepare the room for them as guests, just in case,” Minjung says anxiously, wringing her hands.  “It would be nice if they stayed awhile.” 

Jinki shakes his head.  “The letter said they could only visit for a day.  My cousin makes it clear in the letter that he is only coming because Sunyoung insists.  Since it will just be him with Eunsook, you know that he will not stay long.” 

Minjung’s hand raises to her collar and the other grips at Jinki’s shirt as she takes a shaky breath.  “I’ll prepare the room anyway.  Just to be sure.  The roads are rough this time of year and he may choose to keep warm and safe rather than travel through them.” 

Jinki swallows back the argument that his cousin lives in the country on a thousand acres of land that holds everything from woods to a river to a thriving farm from which he makes his living.  A bit of snow on the roads for such a man is of no consequence.  He leaves it alone and watches Minjung move down the hall and disappear inside the room they keep for guests.

The one, he remembers suddenly, that Taemin spent his first night with them in.

The next morning finds him alone with Jongin.  Taemin had suddenly taken ill the night before, though Jongin showed no signs of illness.  Minjung had stayed up with him and is with him now.  The last time he had checked on them they were sleeping.  Minjung had laid down between Taemin and the wall with one arm out as a makeshift pillow for their son and the other holding him by the waist.  One of his hands held her fingers and the other clutched a dark brown bear.

Jongin is fine, playing at the hearth with a pair of dolls in contrasting aqua blue and blossom pink dresses.  A fire warms the room in anticipation for their guests’ arrival.  Jinki watches until he hears the sound of a vehicle approaching on their road.

There is a rush of cold air when he opens the back door, and he steps out alone to greet his cousins when they pull up the drive, snow crunching beneath their tires and glistening in the yard, punctuated throughout with the deep holes of the footprints of children.

“Onew!” Jinki calls in the chill air, his breath puffing out in a cloud.  His cousin smiles as he steps around his truck, a dark gray vehicle more than strong enough to make it through the winter roads.  A little girl jumps down from the other side and closes her door with both hands, pausing before looking over at Jinki.  Long, ebony hair flows loose over her shoulders beneath a knit cap that matches a scarf bundled at her neck hiding half of her face and the pair of mittens hugging her fisted hands. 

She is much older than his child, eleven already, but underneath all the protections against the cold she looks very small.  He thinks it unfair that someone as young as she must endure what she is enduring now.  And he hopes that meeting his sons will brighten at least her day.

“Eunsook, this is Jinki-sire,” he hears his cousin say.  His hand is at his daughter’s back and she nods politely, only her eyes showing.

“Come inside, both of you,” Jinki admonishes, waving them in.  “Let us get you sat before the warmth of a fire.”

Onew laughs heartily and makes a teasing remark about Jinki’s life as a dweller of the city making him soft.  Jinki only shakes his head and accepts the tease of the elder cousin, knowing that even his little village would be considered “city” by Onew’s standards: Anything with even a single paved road is.

He brings them warm slippers to put on their feet once they step out of their boots, and the rack of hooks by the door is soon covered with their coats and Eunsook’s scarf and hat, mittens tucked into her coat pockets.  Without them, she seems even smaller, burying her fists into the pockets of her sweater and chewing on her lip.

“Jongin is in the main room playing, Eunsook,” Jinki says with a smile.  “Let’s go there and you can join him.”

“What of Taemin?” Onew interrupts.  “Or Minjung?  Where is my favorite cousin?”

“He came down with a fever last night and Minjung has been attending to him.  I’m hoping that he will wake up long enough for the children to speak.  This,” he says pointedly, “is why it is wise to invest in screens.”  Onew scoffs and begins marching down the hall. 

Jongin looks up, his eyes widening at the sight of his sire’s cousin.  They weren’t much different in appearance, the pair, but Onew was definitely more intimidating.  While Jinki had a quiet air of authority, Onew was brash and loud, a noisy personality punctuated by hair that was on the longer side, like an omega newly bonded.

The child’s hair is ruffled by stubby fingers as Onew walks by, crashing down on the sofa beneath the window.  Then Eunsook steps in, looking down at the toys he’s playing with and frowning.  The fire crackles loudly in the room while Jongin’s hair is again ruffled, this time by his sire, and he watches as Jinki joins Onew on the sofa.

“This is Eunsook, Jongin.  And Onew-sire.  They came to visit Taemin, remember?”

“Taemin’s sick,” Jongin tells Onew sadly as he bows his head in greeting.  Turning to Eunsook he adds, “His food didn’t stay in his belly.”  Eunsook nods silently.

Suddenly a door in the hallway opens up.  Jinki rises and hurries quickly to see what is happening.  He returns a moment later with a bleary-eyed Taemin in his arms, stuffed bear still clutched in one hand while the other rubs at his face.

“He heard voices and wanted to say ‘Hello’.  I don’t think he’ll be awake for long, however.  Minjung says it’s nearly time for another dose of medication and it seems to make him sleepy.”

“Wanna play,” Taemin mumbles, burrowing his head in Jinki’s shoulder.

“I know, little one.  Later, when you’re well again.  For now, you need to rest.  And to keep away from our guests so that you do not make them sick as well.”  Taemin nods and tries sitting up again, blinking heavily.  He looks over at Onew sitting on the sofa and nods in greeting, nearly tipping over in the process.  When he sees Eunsook he smiles tiredly, murmuring, “Shiny” before he nods again, recognizing that she’s an alpha but not realizing that he doesn’t need to greet one so young as though she were a guardian.

Jinki chuckles as he catches Taemin’s second near fall and quickly explains that he’ll take Taemin back to his dam for further care.  Minjung is still in the bed and he lays Taemin down beside her.  He watches as she feeds the little boy medicine, running a hand through her hair as he surreptitiously checks for a fever.  Only warm.

When he steps back into the hall, he starts, surprised both by Eunsook waiting for him and by her appearance. 

The eleven-year-old’s cheeks are flushed and her breaths are low.  Her eyes are half-shifted, narrow pupils against a pale green iris.

“Why does he glow?” she asks curiously.  Jinki looks over to the doorway of the main room where Onew stands with his arms crossed.  Jongin is still playing on the floor, unbothered by the scene playing out only feet away.  Onew’s jaw clenches and there’s’ an unnatural steadiness to his gaze, a mask he is putting on for his daughter.

“Perhaps it was the light,” he says. 

Jinki looks down at Eunsook who is now staring at the door.  “Yes,” he adds slowly, “It was probably the light.” 

Eunsook looks up at him and he takes a protective step between her and the door behind which his mate and their youngest lie helpless.  Her eyes are still unnatural, the green brighter than he remembered, and there’s a fervency there that he finds unnerving.

Suddenly there’s a calm washing through the hallway and he looks over to see that Onew’s eyes glow as well, a controlled shift unlike his daughter.  They’re speaking through thought, or rather Onew is and Eunsook is passively listening, her eyes again at the door.  Slowly, the flush leaves her cheeks and the green of her eyes turns back to a deep brown.

“Yes,” she says out loud.  After a long pause, Eunsook turns to her sire and asks if she may be allowed outside.

“Of course,” he answers quickly, “be sure to be warm above all things.  And stay where you can be heard.”  She nods and begins heading toward where her coat hangs near the door.

“You are not worried for her to be alone after that?” Jinki whispers incredulously.

“No,” Onew answers quickly, holding Jinki by the arm and watching his daughter bundle up.  It is only when she is outside that he tilts his head toward the kitchen table and, with one last look at his son still quietly at play, Jinki follows his cousin down the hall.

Onew’s fingers grip the back of an empty chair and he takes a deep breath, staring at the wood of the table.  Jinki’s own fingers tighten into fists as his arms cross against his chest.  The scene from just moments ago plays again and again in his mind: He’d never seen a child in a state such as the one in which he saw Eunsook.  It can only mean one thing.

“How is this possible?” his cousin finally asks.  Jinki shakes his head in his own confusion.

“I do not know.”

“Where did you find him?”

“The woods, as I said.  The ones near the pearlescent lake.  We have already gone through all of this with the council of elders.”  Onew scoffs but it is only half-hearted: Even he believes in their judgment. 

“Then he bears no relation to us.” 

Jinki bristles immediately.  “None by blood, no.”

“Forgive me,” Onew murmurs, “that is all I meant.”  He takes a heavy breath, eyes still cast on the table.  “I have never seen my daughter in that state before, Jinki.  I was barely able to calm her.”  He looks up then, eyes wary.  “Eunsook will be in covenant with Taemin.  Fate has determined as much.  When the time comes for them to enjoy a Ceremony of Intention, she will be of age and all decisions will be hers to make.  After what we have just seen, however, there is no doubt that she will agree and that they will be bonded when Taemin comes of age.  They must, after all.”

“Then you agree that they are soul bonds?”

“Of course.  And that is why there will be no Ceremony of Covenant.” 

Jinki’s arms fall to his sides and his mouth drops open.  “I don’t understand.”

“The covenant is agreed to.  Their souls are already bonded.  There is no need for more.”

“The Ceremony,” Jinki points out, “is tradition.  They need it.”

“Do they?  We’re talking about children who are still years away from a Ceremony of Intention.  A decade before Taemin even begins experiencing heats.  What do they have in common at this age?  He is only four, Jinki.  She is eleven.  What are they to do in the hours you suggest they spend together?”

“Taemin still needs to know Eunsook,” Jinki argues, “and Eunsook needs to know Taemin.  Certainly, more than just one visit.  As much as we are able to, we should keep the children together and allow them to learn of each other.” 

Onew squeezes his eyes close and shakes his head.  “Jinki, there is still much time before our children begin their cycles and need each other.”

“’Need’?” Jinki repeats incredulously.  “Is that what you think their bond should be based on?” 

“That is what a soul bond demands, it is a force.  They must mate with each other or else they die.”

“It can be more, cousin.  Minjung and I were covenanted as children but we developed a love bond as youths.  And you and Sunyoung did the same, despite never being covenanted.”

“Jinki-”

“Onew, they need-”

“I will not,” Onew bites out, startling Jinki, “while Eunsook is still a child, demand that she spends any of these precious moments of her youth tied to a bond that is not one that she cultivated out of will, out of choice.  I will not take that bit of freedom from her.  Life is already taking too much from her now.”  The last sentence is bit out, emphasized with an open hand slamming against the back of a chair.  “Fate is already demanding too high a price from my little girl!”  

At the outburst, Jinki fights the urge to step back and instead merely blinks.  On that point he and his cousin agree most certainly, and as long as he is assured that in the future his son will be secure then he will argue no further with a man from whom fate is also exacting too high a price.

“Of course,” he demurs with a small bow.  “Forgive me cousin.  As one sire to another, I know you understand my feelings for one’s child and I trust that you will forgive me.”

“Family always forgives,” Onew answers quickly.  There’s another clench of his jaw before he sighs.  “And it was I who transgressed.  I should not have yelled.”

“Yes, you should,” Jinki says quickly, “it is only right.  Fate is not always kind.  I think, though, that at least in this case we are being given a gift.  We already know each other, the family my son will become a part of.  I know that he will be well cared for if Eunsook is anything like her dam.”  

Onew chuckles at the light tease, an almost insult to himself that is in truth high praise of his beloved mate.  “Sunyoung is training her now,” he says softly, “while she still can.  Everything Eunsook will need to know to be a bonded alpha.”  He his lips and walks to the window to look out at the yard.  Jinki follows and finds that Eunsook is building a fortress out of snow.  He blinks twice, startled by how intricate her design is.  “It’s good, isn’t it?” Onew asks with pride.

“It’s incredible.”

“Her designs are even better.  I think this will be her future.  Designing and creating structures.”

“If she is this good now with snow, I can only imagine how well she will do with proper material once she’s of age.”

“If she does continue, there is an alpha who has already offered to apprentice her.  She was friends with Sunyoung when they were very little and still holds great affection for her now.  I at first thought it was such affection that had her singing such praises for my little one.  After seeing her designs, however, and comparing them with Eunsook’s, I think now that my daughter truly does have talent.  More than just that as seen through the eyes of a sire,” he adds with a smile.

“I look forward to watching her talents grow.  Perhaps the children will live in a home of her own design.”  Onew chuckles.

“If Eunsook designs the home she will also build it.  I cannot imagine her settling for anyone else’s hands constructing where she sleeps.”

Jinki laughs and they watch quietly as the fortress grows until Jongin joins them in the kitchen and shyly reveals that he is hungry. 

Eunsook and Onew stay another hour after finishing a meal of stew and bread.  Onew keeps her away from Taemin’s door and Jinki watches as she draws a sketch of a building, followed soon by following Jongin’s lead and galloping the toy horses back and forth along the hearth.  Jongin proudly reveals that Minho rides horses and Eunsook calmly reveals that she rides them too.  Jongin stops his horses’ galloping and stares at her in wonder.

Minjung steps out of the bedroom only long enough to wave good-bye to Eunsook, not willing to risk actually holding the little girl.  At the scent from the open door, Eunsook’s cheeks begin to flush and her eyes shift slightly, startling Minjung who hadn’t witnessed the earlier episode.  Jinki stops her from reaching out a hand to check Eunsook’s forehead for a fever.

“I’ll explain,” he says quietly, gently guiding Minjung back into the room.  “Just keep Taemin safe.”  Minjung looks at him in confusion, mouth opening in protest, and then closing again when he quickly shakes his head.  He closes the door and shares a look with Onew who declares that it is now time for he and Eunsook to leave.

Jongin follows them eagerly, stepping sloppily into his own winter boots and grabbing Taemin’s coat by mistake.  Jinki doesn’t notice the error until they’re outside and the hug his son is sharing with Eunsook lasts a little too long.  Onew begins to tug his daughter away and Jongin takes the opportunity to kiss her on the cheek, a show of affection that she scrunches her nose at.

His boots crunch through the snow as he trots back up to Jinki’s side.  He wraps an arm around the back of Jinki’s thigh and waves as Onew and Eunsook’s truck rolls down the drive and disappears down the road.

“I like her,” he says happily, bouncing through the snow ahead of Jinki.  Jinki laughs quietly because his son is sure to get snow into his boots if he keeps it up.

“I’m glad,” he answers.  “Family should like each other.” 

Jongin stops abruptly and whips around.  “Everyone should like everyone!” he cries.

“Yes,” Jinki concedes, watching his son in wonder, “that is true.  Everyone should like everyone.  That would be very nice.”

“It’s too bad Taemin didn’t get to meet her,” Jongin continues, his voice sad as he begins hopping again in the snow.  “And saying ‘Hi’ doesn’t count.  I think he would have liked her too.  Minho also.”

Jinki laughs as they reach the patio and he holds open the screen while his son pushes open the heavy wood door.  “Why Minho?”

“Because they’re both alphas!” Jongin explains, tossing his boots back onto the mat.  Taemin’s coat gets hung up on a different hook than before.

“Well,” Jinki says, his own boots and coat now tucked away, “Taemin will meet her again when he’s older.”

“Do you think they’ll like each other?  Now that he’s family?”  Jinki pauses, Jongin watching him expectantly.  He can tell that his son is hoping for a good answer for his brother.

“I think-” A clatter from the back draws both of their attentions and Jinki’s eyes soften when it’s followed by a bewildered Taemin wandering out of his bedroom, hair mussed with a fist at his eyes.  He turns back to Jongin and ruffles his hair.  “I think they’ll like each other very much,” he says before turning back to Taemin who has made his way to them on unsteady feet and bending down to pick him up. 

Jongin nods and declares, “Good!” before running past them and back to the pile of toys and the fire still crackling behind the mesh gate.

When Taemin is finally well enough to play two days later, he shakes his head in confusion when he’s asked if he remembers meeting Onew and Eunsook.  Jongin takes the opportunity to begin telling his brother all about their visitor and Jinki slips away, down the hall to the kitchen, a mix of disappointment and relief that his son has no recollection of meeting his soul bond.

~

The truck rumbles over the snow-packed roads, rocking back and forth but never slipping.  Eunsook keeps her eyes on the night sky and absently at the sticky mess the treat her sire handed her in one of the village shops has left at her lips.  She leans forward and searches for the moon, it’s light evident but itself hiding behind the trees.  Stars glitter in the sky above while her sire turns down their main drive and suddenly the moon, full and radiant, glows before her.

The fields lay fallow and buried beneath mounds of snow that sparkle now in the moonlight.  There is smoke coming out of the chimney in steady puffs when they pull up.  Eunsook wraps her scarf tight around before climbing down from the truck.  She dashes through the icy air up onto the porch and pushes open the door eagerly with one mittened hand. 

As quickly as she can, she tucks her mittens into her pockets, steps out of her boots, and hangs her scarf and hat up with her coat.  Then she hurries down the hallway to the bedroom her guardians share.

Sunyoung is awake when she steps in, her tired smile familiar.  A beautiful omega with soft white blond hair that now lies across her shoulder in a thick braid down nearly to her lap, she sits up and opens her arms when she sees her daughter in the doorway.  Eunsook falls into them eagerly.

“Welcome back, my love,” she says softly, her arms holding Eunsook tightly.  The little girl smells her dam’s hair and smiles.  “Tell me all about your adventure.”

Eunsook sits in front of her dam while fingers weave her hair into beautiful braids.  She tells Sunyoung about the travel into the village, of seeing the poles with power panels on them.  The paved roads had been hidden beneath snow and ice for most of their trip, though in the shop her sire took her to just before they left town there had been pale green rocks on a clear gray-brown sidewalk that had held her attention for quite a long while.

She’s laughing after telling her dam of the face Jongin made when she told him that she rode horses all the time.

“He was so surprised, Amma!”

“And what of Taemin?” Sunyoung asks, delicately twisting the braids into a crown around her daughter’s head.  “What did he think?”

Eunsook turns to her dam with eyes that are pale green and a pupil that has grown thinner.  Sunyoung gasps in surprise, dropping the braid in her hand.

“He was sick.” 

Sunyoung nods slowly.  “Oh.”

“He glowed.” 

Sunyoung’s eyes widen as she picks up the dropped braid.  “Glowed?”

“Appa said it might have been the light but I knew it wasn’t true.  Then he sent me calm and his thoughts.  Taemin’s soul is bonded to mine, Amma.  We are in a covenant now.”

“And you agreed?” her dam asks quietly.

“Yes,” Eunsook answers emphatically.

“That is good.  Did anything else happen?”  To her relief, the color shifts back in her daughter’s eyes as Eunsook suddenly begins describing the treat her sire bought her at the end of their journey.

“A lo-lo-pop.  Or lo-li-pop,” she says, turning back around.  “I don’t remember now how they said it.  It was very sticky.”

“Ah.” 

“And pretty.  Like a little rainbow swirled onto a wooden stick.” 

Her dam chuckles lightly behind her.  “That does sound pretty.  There you go,” she says, patting Eunsook’s back, “a crown for my queen.”  Eunsook jumps off the bed and scurries to the bathing room and its reflective glass, twisting left and right to see the crown of braids her dam has woven from as many angles as she can.

“A queen,” Eunsook murmurs thoughtfully.  Never anything less, her dam insisted, never simply the heir to a throne or a pawn in the war between others.  It was a title that no longer served any purpose outside of fables, but fables were art that reflected the struggles of life and they were what her dam told her.  They were lessons, though Eunsook didn’t know it, and they each ended with some version of “Rule well and rule wisely.  Take care of those who cannot care for themselves.” 

She hurries back into the bedroom where her dam still lies upon the bed, an arm over her eyes with the bond mark at her wrist catching her daughter’s eye.  Eunsook climbs up beside her and takes the wrist, rubbing her thumb over the mark her sire made twelve years ago.

“I’m going to bite Taemin,” she says thoughtfully, wondering if he’ll cry when she does. 

“Are you?” her dam asks delicately, a hand rubbing over the back of Eunsook’s neck.  “When?”

“When he comes of age.  Appa wouldn’t agree to it.  He said it would be my decision, though, when it is time.”

“And Taemin’s.” 

Eunsook looks up, wide-eyed and her thumb stills against her mother’s wrist.  “Of course.” 

Her dam squeezes her chin and kisses her forehead.  “May the Ancients bring you both joy.”

The little girl curls up with one of her dam’s arms wrapped around her shoulders and the other lying before her.  Little divots in the skin of her dam’s wrist hold her gaze while she listens to another fable.  

Another night, another lesson, another memory Eunsook will look back on and smile at when she is grown.  Loss, fidelity, love, and cruelty all being lain out before her in tales spoken in her dam’s dulcet tone.  Occasionally, they are sung in a voice so beautiful Eunsook sometimes believes her sire’s tale of her dam’s being born of the moon.

“That is why I call her Luna,” he says with a wink. 

A tale of a wise ruler washes against her ears and her thoughts are a jumble of memories from the day as she listens.  Tonight, is special because it is the one in which her dam gives her a blessing for a bond she won’t live to see, knowing that she wouldn’t.

Sunyoung has not told Eunsook that their time together is slowly slipping away.  The pain of urgency the dam felt at the loss of time kept her from allowing the child to create one of her own.  What Eunsook doesn’t understand is that the tone of her dam’s hair is evidence of something sinister, that fate is painting sorrow through the strands she thinks are so beautiful.    The mark on her dam’s wrist that she loves is beginning to fade as well, the illness in Sunyoung’s body laying claim to everything she holds dear. 

These marks are scars that will spread and before she is thirteen Eunsook will watch and feel them take hold of her own heart and strip pieces away, letting them fall to shreds.  Her sire’s cheeks will flush with drink and his eyes will be damp with sorrow.  A wall will grow around him, a shrine to his beloved mate, and Eunsook will be allowed her sire, but for at least two years it will be only in fractured pieces that are often unrecognizable.

Another omega will enter her life, another with hair the white blond color of her dam’s only this time it is by choice and not by fate.  The wounds lain open and raw from when she was a little girl begin to heal beneath tender hands and a kiss in a darkened room.  They will be friends who make choices and Eunsook will learn even more about being an alpha to an omega from Junghee.

There will be nights long after she comes of age, long after a solstice or an equinox means Junghee’s warmth beside her in bed, where she will fall asleep or wake up with tears on her cheeks, reverting to a child who sobs in the dark because they miss their dam and knows they will never be held in their arms again.

Those will be the hardest.  And those will be when she leans on the fables her dam taught her the most.

Tonight, she doesn’t know that any of these will happen.  Tonight, she knows only that Taemin is the boy who glowed, and whose fever she could feel burn, and whose wrist she will bite when they are both of age.

Tonight, Eunsook closes her eyes as Sunyoung’s tale nears its end.  When it finishes, she asks for a song and soon falls asleep to the soothing sound of her dam’s voice.