Chapter Text
An hour before sunrise, the sky is a tapestry of deep, shifting hues. Indigo and midnight blue color the sky over the trees as if the night is reluctant to let go of the clouds. Closer to the eastern horizon, a faint glow begins to emerge in delicate gradients of violet and lavender. Seonghwa leans against an oak tree, crumbles of the old, dried bark dusting over the side of his body. He feels this hour of the day creates a realm that is suspended between night and day, the forest becoming a place where shadows of the night linger and whispers of light begin to chase those shadows away.
Seonghwa begins the journey he makes at the same time every day. He ducks under a spiderweb that seems to make home between the same two pine trees day after day, quietly marveling at the tiny droplets of morning dew strewn across it like forgotten silver stars. Even at this hour, despite the hush falling over the forest, it feels alive. It is alive, in fact, with the evident occasional rustle of unseen animals, the soft flutters of birds stirring in their nests, and the distant sound of a tentative croak of a frog that breaks the stillness of the forest.
Seonghwa heads east, the remembrance of the path etched into his bones now that he has lived away in the forest more of the years he has been alive than when he hasn’t lived in it. His sandals step onto the damp ground with practiced silence. The slight slide of his feet as he goes down the riverbank makes goosebumps erupt in his calves. He lets the woven sling tied around his back fall open on the ground, taking the two water bags out. Filling them with water from the river and watching as the material of goat hide expands, Seonghwa softly grunts as he lifts them both and places them on the drier area of the riverbank.
Safely securing the sling next to the water bags, Seonghwa grabs the bundle of soapnuts and makes his way into the river. Slipping out of his sandals, Seonghwa shivers when the cold water touches his bare feet. He waits until his skin adapts to the coldness before stepping deeper into the river, softly gasping as the cold hits him at once. Stripping off his clothes while he’s in the water, Seonghwa props the soapnuts on the half-submerged rock and starts to wash his worn clothes first. The soapnuts lather up with work, slippery and foamy in his hands. By the time he gets to washing himself, he notices the sky has turned dusky rose.
A bit of panic creeping up his mind, Seonghwa quickly scrubs his body down. He wastes a few more minutes picking the bloomed pink lotuses to make a bunch and gets out of the water. Seonghwa opts to wear his clean robes first, wrapping them around his body before fervently rubbing the last of evening primrose oil on his skin. Hair still dripping wet, Seonghwa gathers up everything he brought in his sling, the wet clothes shoved to the bottom of it and the flowers on top to peek out from his back. When birds start to chirp, Seonghwa gasps. He’s much too late.
As if the birds have announced his arrival, Seonghwa feels eyes on him.
From the north, away from the riverbank, stands the alpha that Seonghwa has been encountering way too often for the past few days. His dark eyes lock into him, and for a moment Seonghwa feels as if he’s getting sucked into the alpha’s gaze, feels as if the ground is shaking beneath his feet as he stands still. Claws of a sudden warmth that contrastingly chill his spine grab at him as the alpha stares down at him, robes askew and arms full of the game he hunted. His pack will eat plenty today.
Seonghwa remembers the first time he had seen him—under the cover of the night, a full moon illuminating the remnant space created by the tree tops, standing tall with his dark eyes scanning the shadows, his aura so intense that Seonghwa had remembered the shiver that it sent his spine days afterwards. The alpha had not noticed that he was being watched—which, he wasn’t, in Seonghwa’s defense—but Seonghwa felt the primal energy radiating from him like heat from a flame. When returned, Seonghwa has felt as if he had run from an oncoming storm. Yet, there had been an undeniable pull from him that Seonghwa still refused to admit.
On another night, a few moons after the first time, Seonghwa had stopped dead in his tracks when the alpha crossed his path as if he had been waiting for him. But no, Seonghwa had seen the slightest movement of widening eyes and lips falling open, taking in Seonghwa’s own messy appearance caused by his meeting with The White One. So, the chance had entirely been coincidental. A simple accident that had rendered Seonghwa stunned on his spot. Then he had spun around and dashed as fast as he could till he could no longer feel the alpha’s gaze burning on his back.
Alas, that has not ended up being the last time Seonghwa has met him. Night after night, frequently on full moons, he starts to encounter the alpha. What started out with just silent stares and speechless moments has turned into the alpha trying to approach him, not with words but with actions. And Seonghwa has tried his best to avoid him, knowing that his presence will not bring good news.
To his disappointment, it has only resulted in the alpha seeking him out more, like a moth to a flame, and somehow finding out about Seonghwa’s journey every morning to the river of the east.
An infuriating smile tugs at his lips after the alpha roams his gaze over Seonghwa. Just like that, the pull between them breaks. The omega huffs in frustration, taking the water bags in his hands as he drags his feet up the bank, struggling with the weight just a little.
“Yunho.”
Seonghwa flinches, not having prepared himself for hearing the alpha’s voice so close to his ear. He pulls the water bag out of Yunho’s reach when the alpha tries to grab at it. He has had no help surviving the woods all these years, and he doesn’t suddenly need it either.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s… not your name.”
“I didn’t offer my name to you,” Seonghwa quickens his pace, as much as he can with two water bags and a sling full of wet clothes and lotuses anyway.
“Wait!” Seonghwa tries not to exasperatedly sigh when he hears the alpha try to keep up with him. He looks young, nimble but sturdy, and his lean muscles ripple when he pauses behind Seonghwa. And the omega dislikes even wasting a second just to turn around and have a rabbit carcass shoved at his face.
“For you.”
An offering with no known reason whispers danger to Seonghwa. He switches his gaze to the alpha, whose eyes are laced with something that chills the omega. Hope.
Seonghwa manages to muster up everything in him to glare at the alpha, a trickle of satisfaction seeping into him as he sees the other one visibly falter, hand with the offering lowering slowly. And it gives the omega the chance to slip away.
Seonghwa doesn’t stop until he reaches home. His little limestone cave on the west riverbank. The spot is safe, hidden from sight on the entry side unless one intentionally seeks out the river. Which usually doesn’t happen due to years’ worth of rumors surrounding it of a ten-foot reptile sleeping under the water that Seonghwa has never seen in his lifespan. Seonghwa has been lucky only to encounter a few rogues that kept their distance after spotting him and nothing else.
He pants, feet pausing mid-run as he spies a hooded figure in his cave, fingertips touching the woven basket full of dried lotus seeds. Observing for a few more seconds as he catches his breath, Seonghwa makes his way into the cave slowly.
“How much freedom does this little village chief have to roam around the woods and waste time?” He says, putting down his sling and making his way over to the person. A button nose and bow-shaped lips peek out from the hood before a cheeky smile graces his delicate features.
“Can’t help it when there are pretty, lonely omegas that need my help.” He takes off the hood, short, black strands falling over his forehead.
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa greets, pulling the smaller omega into his arms and inhaling his sweeter and softer scent.
“Hwa,” Hongjoong sinks into his embrace like a needy pup, unlike the fierce chieftain role he embodied in the Moon tribe of the west. “Why do you look like you ran eight miles?”
“Perhaps I did,” Seonghwa draws back, looking over Hongjoong’s neat and tidy robes that smelled fresh with the subtle hint of primrose oil. The other omega catches his wrist, concern slowly coloring his face. “I’m fine. It's nothing worth mentioning.”
He guides Hongjoong to his wooden makeshift chair. “You’re back sooner this time. I don’t have much to give you.”
“Only came to give you these,” Hongjoong takes a few bottles of primrose oil and places them on Seonghwa’s cupped palms. “And… because I missed you.”
“Missed me?” Seonghwa teases, a smile playing at his lips. “So, you really didn’t just come here to escape your duties?”
Hongjoong’s groan makes Seonghwa burst into giggles. “Leave me alone. I’m so tired of having to deal with old folks who know not when to retire. They keep trying to make me mate with one of their sons.”
“Is that so bad?”
Hongjoong gives him a look. “It is, when I’m an omega.”
Seonghwa silently pets Hongjoong’s head. He knows the omega became the chief of the village by pure strength and wit, with a majority of the village bowing their heads to his ideals after years-long rules of outdated traditions. Still, it seems there still are people who do not accept his newfound authority simply because of his gender.
“Maybe it will be easier for me if someone were to be my advisor,” Seonghwa feels the furtive glances at his back as Hongjoong utters those words.
“Someone capable that is,” Seonghwa hums, igniting his little clay stove that had been a gift from Hongjoong years ago, and placing a small pot over it. He fills it with water, adding a handful of dried lotus petals, watching as the lightest shade of pink appears as the water heats up.
He hears Hongjoong sigh resignedly.
A handful of winters ago, Seonghwa had found Hongjoong and San in the wild, cold and shivering, seeking shelter while they had made their way back to the Moon tribe after trade negotiations with a northern tribe. Neither had he been the village chief back then, nor had San the general. Just an omega and an alpha that had barely weaned off the teat. Seonghwa had marveled at them for being out so late in the storm, when that fascination springs back at him from them for living out alone in the wild while still being just a few months older than them.
Witnessing Hongjoong’s rise from a red-nosed, rosy-cheeked omega to someone with profound ideals and a charismatic self, Seonghwa has felt proud. Yet, it does not mean that he wishes to impose on his authority.
Seonghwa is an outcast.
Abandoned by his own tribe when he was still latched onto his mother’s skirt, Seonghwa remembers the faces that had once smiled at them, scorned their very presence as they chased him and his mother from the village. They had had to leave behind their father’s corpse, resulting in many sleepless nights for Seonghwa and the death of his heartbroken mother, slowly following her mate.
It concludes with Seonghwa having no knowledge or expertise to hold a position of an advisor and his lack of right to advise someone as strategically driven and resilient as Hongjoong. The bubbling sound coming from the pot brings Seonghwa to the present. He quickly takes the pot off, wincing because of the darker color that will obviously leave the lightest bitter aftertaste, and pours it into two cups.
“Some tea?” Seonghwa offers, which Hongjoong accepts and sips at with no complaints. His nose adorably scrunches up, however, and Seonghwa has to stifle a smile behind his own cup. “There’s only half a bag worth of lotus seeds if you want to take it. I picked some more to harvest, but with the spring rain, it will take me more days to properly dry them out.”
“I’m not here for that,” Hongjoong huffs, shifting closer to Seonghwa and laying his head on the other omega’s shoulder. “I just… missed having someone to talk to.”
This is Hongjoong’s way of luring Seonghwa into a trap. A trap that is supposed to end with Seonghwa situating himself in Hongjoong’s village. Although it may seem harmless, and although Seonghwa has taken shelter temporarily in his village a few times for summers that bring forth floods, Seonghwa has no intention to permanently move in and make home.
Because he does not belong with people. Otherwise, he would not have been here in the first place.
“And you travelled far to do just that,” it isn’t a question that Seonghwa voices. His cave, formed in the bank of the west river, belonged to neutral territory—an area that isn’t supposed to be lived in, to make home, but to pass by without needing to enter the Moon or Sun tribe’s territories. Seonghwa has lived so far knowing that everyone expected him to be dead, and he will continue to do so… if a certain someone will keep his silence.
“Well, I wouldn’t have had to if you just—“
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa silences him softly, taking his empty cup in his hands and attempting to stand up. Hongjoong grabs him hurriedly, pulling him down again. A faint whine leaves the omega’s lips as he scents Seonghwa, the other omega allowing him with a deep sigh. He knows Hongjoong had felt his mood souring, hence the affection to soothe his mind.
“You know I can’t leave Ma.”
“She follows you,” Hongjoong says, squeezing his hand. “And if she doesn’t, you can still visit her when you want. Think about it. Your home is eroding, Seonghwa. Years of flooding have made this precious home nearly unfit to live in. I do not want you to wake up one day and have no place to call home.”
When Hongjoong leaves, Seonghwa feels the cold of the loneliness digging into his bones. It is in a way his fault for letting Hongjoong into his heart, but after having become the other omega’s sole source of comfort, Seonghwa isn’t sure if he wants to let that warm feeling go.
That night, he ventures out. Tugging the heavy furs over his shoulders, Seonghwa follows the scent of yarrow. Lending an ear to the songs of the night creatures that have managed to ease Seonghwa’s fears, he walks with a torch in hand that may not last long. When it dies sooner than he anticipates, he lets the moonlight guide him as he blends into the shadows.
The clearing in between clusters of trees towards the west whispers upon him as he approaches, the rays of the moon illuminating the space and shining upon the yarrow flowers. Seonghwa sits at his usual spot, his back to a tree and legs spread out in front of him. He knows not if Ma will come to meet him, but he can certainly wait for her.
When the moon is high up in the sky and the crickets quieten, Seonghwa tenses. It means that someone or something is near, disturbing the peace of the night. The omega straightens up, hands clutching fistfuls of his robe as his eyes darted around him, barely seeing anything in the dark. Then, a paw appears on the other end of the clearing. Seonghwa breathes out, sagging against the tree.
A white wolf steps in front of his sight, eyes locked onto him. Seonghwa spreads out his arms, gesturing the wolf to come closer. When she does, Seonghwa buries his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of tree bark, muddy ground, with a hint of water lilies. The fur on her coat shimmers under the moon, almost silver. Senghwa’s own hair is a similar shade of white, though it does not have a glow like The White One’s does.
“Ma,” Seonghwa breathes, running his hands over her back. She had appeared the day his mother died, as if she had arrived as a replacement. But Seonghwa knows that she’s older than himself, maybe even older than his own mother, with the way she looks at him: warm, affectionate, yet detached, as if she does not have ties to this world. As Seonghwa draws back after getting his fill of her warmth, one hand still combing her soft, fuzzy fur, Ma looks at him as if questioning.
“Ma, do you remember Hongjoong?” She has only met Hongjoong once, when she had unusually visited his cave to check on him after Seonghwa had a day’s worth of heat and found Hongjoong tending to him at that moment. Seonghwa chuckles at the memory of Hongjoong out-of-characteristically shrieking at the sight of a wolf—an abnormally colored one in pure white, no less—standing in front of the cave entrance, slowly wagging its tail.
Ma whines low, as if confirming. She has always responded as if she understands Seonghwa, and that has amused him to no end at first. But now, it brings him a wave of comfort that she has become his back to lean on, just as Hongjoong has found warmth in Seonghwa.
“He… keeps asking me to come with him, but… I don’t think I will fit in. I never do… not with the humans,” he lowers his head, averting Ma’s gaze. “I don’t want them to talk about me, to whisper that I don’t belong, that I have no place with them. They will point fingers at me… or maybe laugh at me—"
Ma nudges his chin with her snout, silencing him. A certain stare makes him withdraw, a silent scolding. She always does it when he speaks badly about something, as if reprimanding him.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he hides his face in his hands. “Will you come with me if I decide to go?”
Seonghwa hears only silence before he peeks.
Silly pup, Ma seems to say, as she stares at him. Wherever you are, I will be.
Seonghwa wills the tears trying to spring onto his eyes to subside. Noticing his distress, Ma’s snout tickles his neck. The omega lets out a watery giggle, snaking his arms around the wolf again and hugging her to his chest. Her comfortable weight rests against him, spreading warmth into his body and making the cold night bearable. As the sky blends into a blackish blue and stars start to hide, Seonghwa rubs his face against Ma's, reluctant to leave.
Amidst the tender cuddle, he hears a rustle of leaves. Freezing, Seonghwa waits to hear it again. He feels Ma tense against him, ears perked up and a low growl simmering in her chest. A moment later, his hearing picks up the sound again. A sound as if someone’s stepping on a dry patch of leaves, but in the distance. And in the dead of the night, it echoes.
“You have to leave,” Seonghwa urges, standing up and brushing dirt off his robes. Ma stands her ground, looking up at him with defiance. “I don’t want anyone to see you, Ma. What if they hunt you?”
A memory of a certain alpha flashes across his mind.
The wolf huffs, springing to her feet. She observes the surroundings, swirls around Seonghwa, and nudges him forward.
“No, I’ll be alright. You have to go now!”
This time, Ma turns her growl at Seonghwa. The omega flinches a little at it, even if it has turned softer and grumpier, more like a scolding. He stares at Ma for a second before wordlessly moving towards the west, following muscle memory of the way back. Ma falls on step next to him, accompanying him home. Seonghwa’s heart swells. The protectiveness she displays over him is the only feeling that makes him know his presence isn’t completely unwanted.
They arrive at the slope of the mountain, where Seonghwa parts ways with Ma, briefly glancing back to see her lingering at the edge until Seonghwa is safely at home. Seonghwa watches two of her pack join her side as Seonghwa is a safe distance away from them, and they leave together.
….
One bright afternoon, as the sun shines high up in the sky, Seonghwa spreads lotus seeds to dry. The field of cosmos flowers always makes good use of the sunlight, and Seonghwa shares a part of it for his work. Flattening the heap of black lotus seeds over clean cloth, Seonghwa places stones over the edge of the material so it will not move under the existing gentle breeze. He clicks his tongue as his hair gets into his eyes when he leans over and pushes the strands back with his forearm the best he can while making sure the seeds are safe.
It's an art that Hongjoong has taught him in exchange for the small goods he would bring from time to time; something that Seonghwa feels inadequate to give on behalf of the help that he receives. Despite Hongjoong stating it as an equivalent exchange, Seonghwa always added bags worth of fruit that only grew in the west part of the forest whenever he could. The cosmos field lies in the unclaimed land; beyond a minute’s walk from it is where Seonghwa usually finds sour berries that are best made into tea, as consuming them raw rewards unwell stomachs. Among the berry shrubs are wild mango trees, where the fruit is plump and quickly ripens during spring, sweet and moist. The younger omega prefers the ones with the slightest sourness in the flesh, and Seonghwa always manages to bag some for him on his own.
The only remaining problem Is to not encounter anyone on the way, as even if the mango trees are located towards the outermost edge of the east territory, people of the Sun tribe would occasionally be seen in the area to hunt. Specifically, during the days when spring rain blesses them in the mornings and smaller animals retreat to the edge seeking shelter and an abundant source of food. But today is not one of those days, so the worries Seonghwa may have may not be of concern.
He steps slowly, avoiding any part of the ground with twigs and leaves that may make a sound, and heads to the mango tree grove. He has opted to wear brown-tinted robes so he will blend in with the trees, a shorter hood over his head so that his white hair may not act as a beacon for hunters.
Crouching at the sour berry bushes, he picks the reddish-orange berries with both of his hands, minding not to make too much of a rustle of the leaves. His eyes dart here and there, waiting for someone to appear. The goddess of luck may have been on his side today, because he sees none in his sight. When his pocket is full of berries, he looks for trees that have half-ripened mangoes so that when Hongjoong is back, they are in the perfect state to devour. The sweetness of the fruits hangs in the air as Seonghwa inhales the precious smell deeply before choosing a tree to climb.
Seeing a bunch of bigger mangoes that are almost ripening in a tree, Seonghwa nods to himself. He grunts as he climbs, gripping the crumbly tree bark as much as he can. Tree sap sticks to his palms as he pushes himself up on a sturdy branch and plants his butt on it.
“Tsk,” Seonghwa brushes his palms clean before reaching out and picking the bunch of mangoes one by one. His side bag gradually fills up with the yellowing fruit, heavy and causing his shoulder to ache in the slightest.
Then, midway picking up the last mango, he freezes. He feels eyes on him, and it burns. He roams his eyes around the area, searching for the person who’s watching him but finds none. Unease gnaws at him, a different kind of tingle shooting up his body. Quickly plucking the last of the fruit, Seonghwa scrambles to get down from the tree, only to find Yunho standing toe to toe in front of him. Seonghwa gasps, stepping backwards and hitting his back against the tree trunk.
The alpha’s eyes bore into him, dark and ever so slightly narrowed. A bow strapped into his back, he seems to be out hunting, yet Seonghwa knows not why he would be so far out of his tribe’s territory.
“Little thief,” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he glances at Seonghwa’s sap-covered hands. The omega bites his lip, hiding his arms behind his back as if it will erase the memory of him getting caught red-handed. Yunho snickers, the sound neither hostile nor humorous, and takes a step towards Seonghwa. Still, the stare of the alpha has his heart booming in his ears, his chest slightly heaving for breath.
“Let me go.” The alpha is not even holding him, yet he feels pinned to the spot, cornered like prey about to be hunted.
“And what? What will you do about those fruits? Compensation has to be made somehow,” Yunho teases, his voice light and playful, but something unknown laces the words.
Seonghwa gulps, his hands protectively covering the side bag because he isn’t willing to yield. Yunho’s lips twitch as his gaze flickers briefly to the bag, like he’s holding back something.
Suddenly, someone calls Yunho’s name in the distance. The alpha’s attention is momentarily averted from him, and Seonghwa takes the split second as a chance and dashes. Or… tries to.
He yelps when arms snake around his waist when he runs a few feet forward, pulling him against a sturdy chest. A hand clasps over his mouth, preventing any sounds from escaping. Seonghwa feels dread filling his heart, clenching his airways and making him unable to breathe. Thrashing his legs in the air, he is picked up easily; he makes incomprehensible sounds, digging his nails into the alpha’s arms.
“Hush now,” Yunho says, this time, a veil of urgency in his voice as he drags Seonghwa to a broader tree and pushes him up against it. He towers over Seonghwa, making him feel small. The omega barely holds back a shiver when Yunho slightly pressed against him, something hot coiling in his guts. Someone calls Yunho’ again, and Seonghwa’s breath hitches, realizing that this person has come closer than before. He stills under Yunho’s hand, still covering his mouth, quietening his breath so that the person will not even hear the simple movement of air.
Yunho places a finger over his mouth, motioning Seonghwa to be quiet. The omega, with feelings conflicting in his head gives a nod hesitantly. He shocks himself, though, when his hand shoots up and grabs Yunho by a fistful of his shirt as he tries to move away. Ashamed and flustered, Seonghwa withdraws his hand, hugging it to his chest. Yunho stares at him for one more second before he leans in as Seonghwa presses himself hard against the tree trunk, wincing slightly as the bark cuts into his skin.
“You will be safe.”
Seonghwa doesn’t believe it. Not one bit. As if his heart knows the most dangerous thing is standing in front of him. But he still stays frozen in his spot, like a fraction of him believes the alpha.
Yunho leaves after roaming his eyes over Seonghwa’s figure, and the familiar burn starts to scorch the omega to his very bones.
“Nothing worth hunting over here. Just a couple of squirrels and… a skinny rabbit.”
Seonghwa feels his cheeks burn in embarrassment as if the latter part of Yunho’s words addressed him. He bites back a snarky remark, fists clenching in anger. The audacity of the alpha to mock him when he is the one with an abnormal height and a well-fed body.
Just as the footsteps fade from his hearing, Seonghwa runs, never looking back.
…
Seonghwa doesn’t see Yunho for days after that. Not that he is upset, but the troubled feeling of owing someone continuously eats away at his heart. He begrudgingly sets aside a pouch of lotus seeds, because that is the only thing he has to offer. He doesn’t know if he will meet Yunho before they rot, and amongst conflicting feelings of not actually wanting to see the alpha, Seonghwa sighs. He sighs so loudly that Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow at him.
Reluctant to spill what he has experienced, Seonghwa silently shakes his head. He gives the perfectly yellowed, sweet-smelling mangos to the younger omega along with the sour berries he managed to dry over the past days, smiling when Hongjoong looks positively delighted at the gifts.
The other has brought a new robe made out of deer skin, sleeveless with inner pockets. Seonghwa’s fingertips run over the seams, admiring the neatness.
“Wooyoung made it,” Hongjoong answers as if he hears what Seonghwa’s thinking. “You know, the omega San has been ogling at for a while. That tiny yapper who has no sense of personal space.”
Seonghwa looks at Hongjoong, whose words may sound harsh, but with the smile playing at his lips, Seonghwa knows otherwise.
“I remember,” Seonghwa says, recalling a memory of the smaller omega who’s dubbed as the social butterfly of Hongjoong’s village. “But what makes you think he’s tiny? I mean, he is, but you’re—agh!!”
“Try to finish that sentence, Seonghwa of the Park’s, and see if you’ll still be alive after,” Hongjoong grits through his teeth, which has latched onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa laughs, surrendering and sinking into Hongjoong’s embrace.
“Give my blessings to San if he mates Wooyoung before summer arrives and I’m not there.”
“That will happen only if San manages to man up and confess.”
“I think Wooyoung will do it before that.”
“You may be right about that,” Hongjoong hums, scenting Seonghwa. The other finds how easy it is to let Hongjoong touch him, scent him, and press against him. His touch is soft, caring, and unbelievably tender, as if they had known each other for a lifetime. They had not, but the amount of conversations they have shared accumulates into a lifetime, creating a constant cocoon of warmth around Seonghwa, protection delicate but firm.
The difference between his and Yunho’s Is that his touch felt all-consuming. As if the edges of Seonghwa’s boundaries have blurred, as if his touch has quite possibly dissolved the lines the omega has drawn over him and another human being. He remembers the hands holding his waist, long, slender fingers splayed over his stomach that set his skin ablaze through clothes. He remembers the callouses of his palm that have silenced his noises, the warm breath fanning over his shoulder eliciting goosebumps.
Seonghwa tightly presses his thighs together as heat pools into his abdomen, uncharacteristic and borderline deviant. He feels like his mind has touched upon uncharted, forbidden territory that he himself has locked away deep inside of him.
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong tugs his distracted mind back to reality, peering at his eyes with a hand under his chin. “Why does it feel like there’s something that you haven’t told me yet? Or… is it about… someone?”
Seonghwa is unable to stop himself from tensing up. And he has just silently answered Hongjoong’s question with no words at all. Still, he denies, diverting his attention to the smooth deer skin in his hands.
“It’s nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing when you space out every five seconds thinking about them.”
Seonghwa gasps. “I do not!”
“I became chieftain because I know how to read people, Hwa.”
Seonghwa stubbornly refuses to give in. When it’s time for Hongjoong to leave, the older omega is left with a lingering sense of loneliness with the quiet that follows the younger one. He spends the rest of the day idling, his mind drifting back to struggling with the necessary shackles he has placed upon himself. He’s just trying to protect himself, he reminds his heart, paying no mind to the low whine of his inner omega.
Seonghwa is doing laundry when a sack of half ripe mangos is placed next to him on the muddy ground. He stares at it for a long moment, the mouth of the sack askew, displaying the fruit in a golden glow that has his own mouth filling with saliva. He shakes his head to snap out of the trance and looks at Yunho, who’s standing directly under the sun, casting a shadow over him.
Pursing his lips to a tight line, Seonghwa resumes washing his clothes. Beads of sweat run down his forehead, dropping to his eyes and blurring his vision.
“Not even a little gratitude.”
Well, Seonghwa hasn’t asked for it.
Yunho perches down a few feet behind him on the drier area of the riverbank as if Seonghwa has welcomed his presence to accompany him. He spares no glance to the alpha, as he knows even the smallest bit of attention will spur him on. Brushing the dirt away with a scrubber, Seonghwa focuses intensely on the task at hand, feeling a pair of eyes on his back from time to time. Subtle sounds of scraping are heard from behind him, and he guesses that the alpha is sharpening something. Likely his arrows. The realization of that his inner omega not even considering the fact that those arrows may aim for him, momentarily mortifies him before he wills his heart to calm down and making his breath even.
Then the omega frowns. Yunho’s role in his tribe seems to be a hunter. With his tall and lean frame with tight muscles and perception of surroundings almost to a level of an expert analytic, it isn’t hard to imagine. But he hasn’t seen Yunho around until several months ago. Seonghwa assumes that the other has only come of age around that time. Which also means the alpha is only a couple of years younger than him and has barely tasted the bitterness of the world.
A fleeting thought crosses his mind as he tries to remember if he has seen Yunho before, but all he remembers are tears, scornful words that hurt like knives that bled poison, and his father giving his life so that he and his mother are left alive.
Seonghwa washes his hands after he’s done with his laundry until they are squeaky clean. He wipes them on the sides of the robe he’s wearing before reaching out to the small side bag he brought with him. He has kept the little pouch of lotus seed in it at all times, not admitting to his baseless thoughts of expecting to meet Yunho again. Turning to the alpha, who has now stopped what he’s doing and is fully focusing on Seonghwa, the omega hands it over to him.
Yunho glances back and forth between Seonghwa’s face and the pouch before reaching out and taking it in his hands. The pouch seems much too small in Yunho’s wide palms, and Seonghwa clears his throat at the thought of them having been on his waist once. Or maybe twice.
“It’s for helping me out. But— Seonghwa fidgets in his spot. “It shall be the first and last time that will happen. You have to stop coming-“
“This is much too valuable,” Yunho says, tying the mouth of the pouch after checking the inside of it and giving it back. “And if it marks the end of whatever we had, then I don’t want it.”
“It’s for your own good—“
“Why does everyone say that? For my own good? No, it’s to please yourselves.”
Seonghwa takes a step back, taken off guard with the words the alpha spat. It feels like a part of it was not aimed at him, but he feels the sharpness of it cutting into his skin. Yunho’s eyes are locked with his, dark and heavy, a thin veil of pain covering them. Seonghwa feels a tug at his heart but snaps out of it before that tug can root itself deep in him.
“I don’t know what you have been through, nor am I a source for you to take frustrations out on—“
“I would never—“
“Let me speak, Yunho. Living in that place, I’m sure you have heard stories. I’m supposed to be dead. If they find out that you have been seeking me out, I will be the one ending up dying. My whole life is at stake while you… for you this might be a momentary spark, alpha. We are from different worlds. Your tribe made that clear for me before I had even seen five winters pass, and I’m not about to let you lead them to me.”
“What makes you think I would ever do that?” Yunho says, standing up to his full height, staring down at Seonghwa with hurt etched on his features. “I had plenty of chances to do something if I ever wanted to. Even when I saw you talking to your… wolf.”
Seonghwa steps back, eyes widening in horror. So, Yunho has been the one to see him that night, though he has no idea what the alpha was doing in the forest at that time of the night. He quickly composes himself, fearing that his expression might have already given away Ma’s position in his life that can be used as his weakness.
“Seonghwa,” Yunho’s fingers curl around his wrist as Seonghwa gasps, his body quivering. The alpha knows his name. While his inner omega whines in delight, Seonghwa trembles, glued to his spot as Yunho’s other arm locks around his waist, pulling him forward. Like a bee to nectar, Seonghwa raises his two palms, placing them on the alpha’s chest as if he wants to push him away. But no force comes from them, and they just lie there, feeling the alpha’s warmth under his skin and the heart that is rapidly beating.
“You cannot tell me that you don’t feel what I do. Even if our circumstances might not agree with it, there’s something that pulls me towards you.”
Seonghwa’s hands clench into fists. His breathing shatters as his body presses against Yunho’s, an undeniable current flowing between them. His mind swirls with resistance even as his heart breathes life into a relentless yearning. No, he has to cut it short before it fully blooms into something he cannot oppose.
“No,” Seonghwa whispers, trying to push Yunho away from him. His hold on Seonghwa tightens, unyielding and defying his resisting. “No, no—“
“Seonghwa—"
Before Seonghwa can respond, a wolf howls in the distance. Seonghwa sharply turns, staring into where the sound had come from. He breaks out of his trance when he hears it again, pulling himself away from Yunho’s hold. This time, the alpha allows him to go. Seonghwa grabs the knife he had in his bag, dashing out into the woods, following the sound.
It isn’t Ma; he knows. Her howls are more high-pitched, always started with a low growl. These were more similar to the others of her pack, but they rarely had a reason to howl in broad daylight, unless…
Seonghwa pants, shallowly breathing in air as he ran through the forest. Twigs and leaves break under his feet, making his presence announced to whoever is listening. As he nears the slope of the shorter mountain, he sees two of Ma’s wolves backed into the edge of a naturally formed pit. In front of them, with hunting daggers out and menacingly stepping forward, are a couple of rogues, alphas by nature. They let out their pheromones so deeply that even at this distance Seonghwa could smell them, dried, bitter musk that isn’t welcome in the forest.
The wolves bare their teeth at them, growling. From the swell of one’s belly, Seonghwa figures that she’s carrying pups. The other wolf must be its mate, Seonghwa thinks briefly, before he runs forward.
“Hey!” He shouts, drawing the men’s attention towards him. He stops in his tracks what seems to be a safe distance away. “Let them go!”
One man, with a beard that comes down to his chest, grime-covered in visible skin, sneers at Seonghwa. His body is broad, rough scars strewn over it. He wears thick, dark furs, seeming as if a bear’s skin. The omega doesn’t let the signs of a forest-bound predator deter him.
“You must have a death wish, omega. I already claimed them as my prey, and no one can stop me from taking their flesh and fur.”
Seonghwa glares, gritting his teeth. “They are sacred to these grounds and my family. Killing them will bind you in a curse for generations to come.”
“Family? With beasts?” The man snickers, looking Seonghwa up and down. “Then I hope you won’t mind being next.”
Seonghwa suppresses a shudder, gripping the knife tightly in his hand. While the one behind the man slips past and charges towards Seonghwa, the omega focuses only on him. He knows that the Sun tribe set traps in the area, although he knows not exactly where. But after years of living in the forest and getting more than a handful of scars from them, Seonghwa is able to spy one at one glance. When his eyes see what he’s searching for, he runs towards it.
The one chasing him changes his directions to follow Seonghwa, his weight becoming an advantage to the omega’s swift escape from within his grasp. He looks back at the alpha, baring his teeth and luring him in. One step, two steps, and, oh, with a shout, the man is suspended in the air, upside down with a knot around his ankle. The rope that has been carefully hidden in the under foliage appears, letting out creaking noises as the alpha’s weight dangled from the air. Seonghwa pats the tie around the tree once to see that it will not loosen anytime soon before switching his attention to the other man.
Growling in his chest, Seonghwa throws a rock he has picked up midway towards the man. It hits his broader frame and falls flat on the ground. No damage, but it still manages to draw his attention to Seonghwa. The omega expects him to charge at him after realizing that his partner is no longer capable of fighting, but too smart for his own good, the alpha stays where he is. Because moving away from the spot will have given the chance for the wolves to escape. And that will hurt his useless alpha pride.
“Get away from them!” Seonghwa shouts, kicking the man in his shins. He clicks his tongue when the other doesn’t budge, aiming the next kick to his knee while ducking the dagger that swings at him. Seonghwa doesn’t want to shed blood, but if it comes to that, then…
The she-wolf howls again, and the man, momentarily switching his gaze towards the wolves, makes the mistake of being distracted. Seonghwa digs his knife into the man’s shoulder, his own cry of pain mixing with the wolf’s.
“Bitch,” he curses, grabbing Seonghwa by his hair and throwing him at the wolves. Gasping, Seonghwa stops himself before his weight falls onto the wolves. He takes a fraction of a second to contemplate before he launches himself in front of the she-wolf, creating a protective barrier over her with his body.
The alpha looks incredulously at him before the male wolf jumps on him, snapping his jaws over the other shoulder. Seonghwa watches the rest of the wolves come down the mountain from the opposite side, joining them. They round up the man, attempting to bite at his flowing fur robes and hanging slings. Seonghwa sees Ma at the top of the slope, observing with sharp, hardened eyes. As a whimper escapes his lips, her gaze switches onto him, seeing his roughened state before she sprints down, joining the other wolves.
Honestly, Seonghwa will have let this go on until the alpha’s corpse remained, but they are not in the area owned by their home. The man, under pained grunts, swings his dagger at the wolves, almost cutting one. The dagger glints, long and curved inwards as if it’s made to yank the guts out of its prey.
“That’s enough.”
Yunho comes down towards them, his bow drawn and pointed towards the rogue. His face is cold, stoic, and never betrays the emotions that must be swimming underneath. Ma moves to stand in front of Seonghwa, teeth and gums bared but no sound coming off her.
“We do not condone killing wolves in these lands, rogue.”
The other alpha heaves for breath, spitting at the ground. “I am not bound by your laws, runt.”
“Oh, you are,” a slow smirk stretches Yunho’s lips, and Seonghwa feels the hair on his body standing up as the tension in the air turns thick and volatile. “Because you have already trespassed into the Sun tribe’s territory without entering the main gates. And that,” he glances at Seonghwa. “Calls for punishment.”
“Ridiculous! What right do you have to do that?” The rogue snaps, pointing the dagger at Yunho.
Seonghwa’s hand in Ma’s fur curls in trepidation.
“Nobody important… But I do answer to the clan leader.” Yunho pulls the strap of the bow further back, and Seonghwa can hear it thrumming against the air, ready to make one bleed. “We can do this your way. You can go with me to meet the chieftain, get fined, and punished. Or you can let me administer judgment on you, with the exclusion of a fine.”
Seonghwa bites his lip. For a rogue, finances are limited. They earn very few chances to gain coin, and most of it gets spend on toll gates when crossing territories. It is the one thing they use sparingly, second only to water rations. To have used such a thing to his advantage, Yunho truly seems clever but also undeniably cruel.
Seonghwa glances at the man, who glares a hole through Yunho. The other alpha doesn’t budge, posture straight and relaxed while his hold on the bow tight. An air of arrogance wafts around him, giving him an aura of irrefutable authority. When the rogue gives up and drops the dagger, Seonghwa feels like he can finally breathe again.
“Good,” Yunho praises, and something flips in Seonghwa’s belly. “Hands up.”
When the other man does it, reluctantly so, Yunho wastes zero seconds and shoots an arrow right into his left palm. It takes a second for Seonghwa to realize that it’s the same hand that yanked his hair and hurt him. He dismisses the thought quickly, watching the rogue hold his injured hand and cry out in pain. Blood spurts from the wound, dribbling onto the ground.
Ma growls, and Seonghwa recognizes that it’s her approval. The other wolves echo her sentiments, watching until the man is reduced to a mix of pathetic sniffles and whines before walking away. Seonghwa crouches next to Ma, one hand on her head, gently petting.
“I’ll be alright,” he says, despite the apprehension curling at the corners of his mind.
Ma spares a glance towards Yunho, who lowers his bow and straps it onto his back again, and then at Seonghwa. She nudges his hand in thinly veiled suspicion before moving towards her pack as they strut up the mountain. Seonghwa’s heart swells when she keeps glancing back, and he gives a small smile towards her, appearing as reassuring as he can.
Then his gaze fixates onto Yunho, who crouches next to the rogue and presses a pouch into his good hand.
“This will make the bleeding stop. It will hold you off until you find the nearest healer in the next village.”
“How kind,” the man spits through gritted teeth, eyeing his partner, who is on the verge of losing consciousness as he hangs in the air with blood rushing to his head. Yunho instinctively stands in front of Seonghwa when the other man stands up, throwing a glare at them, and leaves. Both of them silently watch as the rogue goes up to the trap and gets the other alpha down as best as he can with one hand. The quietness persists until the rogues become mere silhouettes against the evening sun, until Seonghwa steps forward.
He stretches out his hand, the one he uses less, and pointedly looks at Yunho. “My turn.”
Seonghwa realizes this time, the punishment will apply to him as well. He is standing on Sun’s lands, trespassing and invading. Yunho tilts his head, glancing at his upturned hand before taking it in his own. He brings it closer towards his face and presses his lips against the inner wrists, where scent glands are delicate and subtly smelling. Seonghwa’s lips part, unable to make a sound, unable to breathe. Everything around him fades into a jumble of colors.
“Yunho,” he whispers, absorbing the tingles erupted from the soft, brief contact into his heart, feeling a few of the shackles around it disintegrate.
“You are strong, a force to be reckoned with. Selfless, and blessed by the forest. I have never yearned for acceptance from anyone as I am for you. I will bend the rules for you, Seonghwa,” he states, locking gazes with the omega. “Will you let me in?"