Chapter Text
Hundreds of years ago, the idea of a pack meant something entirely different than it did now. It was considered an archaic term, used to describe actual animals living in a pack rather than werewolves; an outdated social norm that no one conformed to anymore.
The way things used to be in the past, one didn’t even have to be blood related to be treated as a part of such a highly structured hierarchy. As long as they were willing to contribute something—anything that could make the pack even more functional and great—they were more than welcome to join.
However, if that wasn’t the case—if they were sick or disabled, or even old—and the pack saw no use in them, they’d have been more than likely chased away. Even weak and born prematurely pups were being abandoned, especially during the times of food scarcity.
Only the fittest of the wolves were allowed to stay, the rest could either keep up with or be removed, that was if they didn’t decide to leave on their own to begin with, putting the pack’s well-being above their own lives.
Each pack had to be self-sufficient or else it’d cause the morale within the group to collapse, thus causing fights between the pack mates and even other wolves who could then challenge the alpha for the pack leadership.
To prevent that, a pack needed to be able to hunt and prepare their food; build shelters and do many other things, including being able to treat their sick who could be treated, and teach their pups about life and the surrounding world.
With how big some of the packs had gotten over the centuries, they weren’t considered just ‘packs’, but had turned into communities. There were villages, then towns and even cities being built and fully operated by just one pack.
In South Korea, three packs as such existed.
The Parks, the Jeons and the Kims.
Those three packs had taken over the country, to the point that they simply ceased to exist. Or rather, things had started progressing, technology and science evolving.
The realization had been made that packs simply weren’t needed anymore. In place of that, a different hierarchy had been established.
Instead of a ‘pack’, a new term was introduced. It was a ‘family’, which in most cases consisted of a group of wolves who were blood related and lived together as a unit. But that wasn’t always the case as two wolves who decided to mate with each other were also considered a family, with the difference that they were just starting one.
Naturally, there were no more pack leaders, either, but a council of seven had been created—all seven wolves having been chosen democratically by the rest of the society. A society that still cared for one another, working hard to make their country great, but on more equal terms. The weak wolves were now embraced by the rest of them and protected, never to be abandoned again.
To make it even more fair, not all seats in the council were taken by alphas. No, there was at least one representative of each sub-gender to make sure that everyone was rightfully respected and their rights not violated.
There had been many new rights and laws introduced by the council in the recent decades, drastically deviating from the many traditions all the packs used to have.
Nowadays there were no laws in place prohibiting two omegas from bonding and—a somewhat new tradition—marrying each other. Even two wolves who couldn’t conceive pups on their own were allowed to be together—something that used to be highly frowned upon, if not even punished once discovered.
There were many other laws, but it was those laws that, among other things, had allowed for two male alphas to marry each other as well.
Two male alphas being together had been considered taboo, something that simply had no right to exist in nature. No one in the pack would’ve ever allowed for that to happen in the past, and there were many reasons for that, but just two the most important ones.
One, alphas weren’t able to breed with one another.
Two, they were known to be dominant and with their temperament, a relationship like that was a recipe for disaster. It could be bumpy and violent, certainly not as easy to maintain as one between an alpha and an omega. Two alphas constantly trying to one another up wouldn’t have been good for a pack, which was why it was something that was ridiculed and made impossible to happen.
Everything had always boiled down to the pack, and the integrity and safety of it were the key elements that needed to be guaranteed by the pack leader. They were expected to put the pack first and ensure that everyone within was satisfied and happy. That, in turn, also meant delivering pups and a partner, an omega, who could’ve been easily dominated and controlled if needed.
The difference was that times had changed.
While they were still presenting as certain sub-genders during their adolescence, that no longer mattered as much. They were considered equal and because of mingling with each other on more open terms, they treated themselves as such.
Alphas had mellowed down, omegas had grown a spine. It was mostly possible thanks to the suppressants they had to take. They stopped them from heaving ruts and heats, their pheromones no longer affecting them as much as before. If you weren’t able to breed, it wasn’t a problem, either, as an adoption was always an option.
Werewolves had become much less judgemental and more open-minded. Wolves had started bonding with each other because of love and not for the pack’s sake, or because they were forced to by their parents.
Things had changed but for those in charge… not exactly. Power was something that still mattered to some of them the most and… what could be more powerful than uniting two of the biggest families together?
All three of them—the Parks, the Jeons and the Kims—had one seat each in the council, and while a seat was great, two looked way more appealing, was what the Parks and the Jeons had thought.
Not without a reason, either.
Two seats meant a more secured position in the council, but also making them a power to be reckoned with worldwide.
The two families owned a lot of businesses and by establishing a monopoly with them on the market, they hoped to become untouchable. Not to mention a huge driving power for them to even consider such an arrangement was finally and decidedly destabilizing the Kims who weren’t very into the New Age, but were rather sticking to the old traditions.
Their mentality and stubbornness had split up their country between those who wanted things to keep progressing and those who wanted to reverse everything. But while that painted a black and white picture, it was far from being the case.
All families had their flaws.
All were selfish, having only their own best interest in mind, the population always coming second. Not even just that, but their children as well. They were treated as pawns and…
Well, Jimin was one of the pawns they were willing to sacrifice to reach their goal.
Park Jimin was his exact name and as the Parks’ alpha son, he was the one and only that had been proposed in an arranged marriage to none other than Jeon Jungkook, the Jeon’s alpha son.
Just like centuries ago, Jimin had been sold, used like a puppet, for ‘the better good’—all to make sure that his family remained prosperous and undefeated.
No one had asked him if that was what he wanted, but just like it hadn’t mattered back then, it didn’t matter now.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jimin voiced his discontent, his eyes flashing a bright golden color. “I must’ve heard you wrong. You certainly did not just say that Jeon Jungkook and I are to be married, there’s just now way.”
While they might’ve been ‘domiciled’ wolves now, their primary instincts would still take over sometimes, manifesting itself in their anger or any other strong emotions. Jimin was furious and while he was trying to keep himself in check, he could still feel his wolf’s nature trying to win over and start wrecking havoc.
“Sit down, pup,” his father said, voice firm but otherwise void of any emotions.
Jimin was 28 and just by addressing him as a ‘pup’, his father showed a huge lack of respect towards him. It didn’t surprise him, his father liked to remind him of his place in the family, while his omega mother just stood next to him and watched silently.
Jimin equally despised them both, but he wasn’t here to fight, so although reluctantly, he sat down in the end. He inhaled deeply, still hoping to talk some sense into his parents and have them change their mind. “Did you forget that we’re both alphas?” he asked much calmer this time, even though it costed him a lot of willpower.
His father shrugged. “So?”
Seeing Jimin's stunned expression at his father's ignorance, his mother added, “Alphas have been marrying each other for decades now. I'm sure you can keep your temperament in check.”
Jimin almost scoffed at her words, fingers balling into fists under the table. “Except, mother, you’re forgetting that we’re not in love and since we’re being forced into this marriage, we’re bound to kill each other sooner than later.”
He was about to push himself off the chair, hoping that pacing around the room could help him get his emotions further under control. However, his father’s intimidating glare successfully glued him back to his seat.
Jimin was fuming inside, his lips pressed into a thin line, fighting the urge to… he didn't even know what, but deep down he entertained the idea of throwing himself at his father and ripping his heart out.
His father looked unmoved by his arguments, clearly having already made up his mind, not willing to reconsider it. Jimin wasn’t going to give up that easily.
“You’re a Park,” he stated the obvious, as if that meant anything; as if their name meant anything to Jimin. “Our reputation and our honor ride on the success of this arrangement. You’ll either make me proud and put that Jeons’ bitch in his place, or you’ll deeply regret it.”
There it was, his father’s true colors showing through, not that he’d ever bothered to hide them well. He was a cruel man, an even worse husband and an awful father. Even now, despite making a deal with the Jeons, he didn’t trust them one bit. He was using them just to achieve his goal and once it was within his grasp, he wasn’t going to hesitate to dispose of them like trash… his own son not being the exception.
“I’m not gonna marry a Jeon,” he said weakly, his last attempt at dissuading his father. “I’m in love with someone else,” he confessed on a whim, only for his words to not be acknowledged at all.
His father agreed with him partly, though, Jimin had to give him that. He gave him a resemblance of hope for just one second, only to crush it a moment later. He smiled, tapping a file that was lying in front of him on the table. He slid it towards Jimin.
“You’re right, you’re not gonna marry a Jeon. Not when you’re already married to one. You’re moving in together this afternoon. Everything’s been already arranged.”
It was dread that crawled up Jimin’s spine upon hearing his words, the severity of the situation dawning on him in a flash.
Jimin hated his parents, but that was a whole new side of them that he hadn’t seen before. They were monsters, towards him as well, but never to that extent.
Today it hit him that it might’ve been just an act, one that was leading up to this moment. If Jimin had sensed something earlier, he’d have run away without looking back, but that was what they must’ve expected from him.
They’d set a trap and he’d walked into it willingly. He was trapped and they relished in it, bathing in his despair and the way they cornered him like a prey animal, something that he was anything but.
His hands shaking, Jimin took the file, looking at the first page since it was already opened. He skimmed over it, noting that it was, indeed, a marriage contract concluded by him and Jungkook. It was signed, too, by both of them.
He pushed it away, shaking his head. “That is not my signature. I doubt it’s Jungkook’s, either. You can’t—”
His father stood up abruptly, his mother following suit. It was an indication of their conversation being over, and no matter what Jimin was going to say, his parents weren’t going to relent.
Jimin’s shoulders sagged in defeat.
“The Jeons will arrive here shortly. Go get changed. We’re having a commemorative dinner to celebrate your marriage,” his father explained, rounding the table.
Jimin didn’t move, glancing at his mother, but she wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes fixed on her tyrant husband instead.
Jimin bit his lip, feeling it tremble, his eyes becoming itchy as though he was seconds away from bursting into tears. He wasn’t going to allow himself such a moment of weakness, not in front of them, but he knew it was unavoidable. That was just how he was, he cried when he was happy, but also when he was stressed or angry.
He needed to let it all out, he… he needed to tell him.
Still on his chair, Jimin reached for his phone.
In the next second, he only managed to sense some movement on his right before he actually realized what was going on, let alone had enough time to react.
His wrist snapped in half at an unnatural angle and he hissed, feeling his bone break. His phone slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor. Jimin’s vision went white as his body went into shock, overwhelmed by the sudden pain, the adrenaline having not kicked in yet.
His father added pressure onto his wrist, making Jimin release a painful sob. He raised his other hand, fingers clutching at his father’s wrist, trying to make him let go of him. But he only held on stronger, clearly intent on getting his point across.
“The Kims’ bitch can find out about this later,” his father growled next to his ear. “Go get dressed. Now.”
That was when he finally released his wrist and Jimin hunched over himself, gently grabbing his hand to support his wrist, not wanting to put too much pressure on it. He didn't dare to pick up his phone, leaving it on the ground.
Jimin popped his broken bone into place, knowing that thanks to his healing abilities it was going to heal in no time and it was important that it was realigned properly. He gritted his teeth as a wave of pain rushed through his body.
When he got up, his legs were shaky and he was breathing more heavily. Despite that, he still looked his father dead in the eyes, refusing to appear weak in his eyes.
“The Kims might be stubborn, hanging onto all of those ancient traditions, but they’d never force their child to marry someone they don’t love,” he spat before he strode towards the door, pushed it open and left.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Jimin wanted to run, run away as far as possible, but he quickly realized it wasn’t going to happen.
His father’s minions were everywhere, guarding the house and keeping a close eye on him. Even if he was reckless enough to try, he knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to make it through all the security—not when they consisted primarily of alphas—and would only get himself killed.
Succumbed to his fate for now, Jimin started walking down the hallway. He no longer lived with his parents, but his old room was just the way he’d left it and he supposed it was there that someone awaited to help him get dressed. Not that he needed help, but considering he was treated as a prisoner, it was only fitting that someone was going to keep him company at all times.
As he neared his room, he could already spot the security outside. He didn’t expect to find more of them inside, however, when he stepped through the threshold, he was surprised to find his room being overcrowded not only with their housekeeping ladies but alphas with tranquilizer guns strapped to their belts as well.
Maybe it was the adrenaline finally talking through him, but feeling fearless, he stepped to the side, pointing at the door. “Get out.” His voice, stern and loud, left no room for objection, yet no one moved.
Jimin felt his teeth extract from his gums and he flashed them at everyone, growling. “Get out,” he repeated. "There’s nowhere for me to run. Leave me alone and let me get dressed,” he added, even more annoyed.
They happened to listen this time.
Jimin watched them leave and then waited a few more seconds after the door closed before springing into action.
His room was located on the second floor, but if he shifted, he could certainly make that jump down. There were shrubs and trees surrounding the whole house, they’d help to lessen the impact of his jump.
Unfortunately, as soon as he opened the curtains—only now noticing that the light in the room was switched on, even though it was afternoon and it was still bright outside—he found himself frozen. That was because there were now metal bars in his windows, completely locking him out from the outside world.
He couldn’t believe how well prepared his parents were, knowing him like the back of their hands, but also… it was startling how predictable he was.
Jimin heard the door creak and jerked his head towards it, glaring at the housekeeping lady who entered his room without his permission. “I thought I’d made myself clear when I said to leave me alone.”
She bowed deeply, her expression of indifference despite the gesture and her words suggesting otherwise, “My deepest apologies, Jimin-ssi. The Jeons have arrived. We must hurry and get you dressed quickly.”
Jimin felt his breathing quicken at her statement, as though he was about to have a panic attack. It wasn’t typical of him, he was usually calm regardless of the situation, but he was slightly panicking this time.
He looked longingly at the window one last time, then resorted to something he’d never thought he’d have to, which was begging. “Please.” He looked her in the eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want—I’ll pay you. Just let me leave. Please, I’m begging you.”
The silence was deafening in his ears.
Those women might’ve practically raised him, but they were no different than his parents, that much was clear.
“Please step out of your clothes, Jimin-ssi.”
When Jimin sat down at the top of the table—one empty seat next to him—there was only one thing keeping him together. It was telling himself repeatedly that once the dinner was over and he could go home, he was going to pack his bags, take the first plane out and leave Korea forever.
What was even more comforting was that he wouldn’t be going alone.
His stomach stirred uncomfortably as he met his father’s eyes across the table. He was smiling at him, the look of superiority in his eyes, knowing he’d won. Jimin looked away, eyes falling to his phone that was placed right next to his plate. The screen was flashing with constant messages from his best friend, and Jimin had to bite himself hard on the lip to stop himself from tearing up.
He wanted to grab the phone and call for help, but he knew that it’d only get him in more trouble than he already was. He decided to behave for the time being just to get away from here as soon as possible.
When he’d agreed to have dinner with his parents, despite them not seeing each other for the past few months, he’d thought it was just that: a dinner. He should’ve known better that they were up to something. Although, he couldn’t have possibly known it was as bad as marrying him off against his will.
It felt bizarre that he was the last one to find out. His parents must’ve taken their time preparing everything, yet he had no idea. Even the journalists had been already informed, it was the only way his friend could’ve found out. Unless it was his father who had enough time before dinner to rub it into their faces.
Taehyung was still trying to reach him and it hurt not being able to pick up his phone. He thought that maybe once the dinner started, he could send him a text, assuming his father was distracted enough with their guests. But as the door to the dining room opened, that thought turned into a fleeting memory, his full attention being steered towards the man walking inside.
He was none other than Jeon Jungkook, his future… No, his husband…
Jimin was familiar with him. They’d seen each other plenty because of who they were, but they’d never interacted, except for exchanging pleasantries then and there. Now Jimin saw him in a different light, for the first time paying attention and letting his eyes wander to study him.
He knew that Jungkook was younger than him, not by much and they were old enough for Jimin to not be able to tell the difference. Jungkook was omegas wet dream, the picture-perfect and ‘true’ alpha, according to all those trashy magazines and some other ignorant wolves, especially the young ones—which translated to him being tall, his body physique muscular and shoulders broad.
In comparison, Jimin’s physical features were much more delicate, his height lesser than that of an average alpha, and Jungkook had an advantage of few inches on him. Normally it didn’t bother him—Taehyung was taller than him, too, even taller than Jungkook—but it weirdly rubbed him the wrong way this time. It wasn’t those things that made an alpha, though, and he wasn’t any worse than Jungkook was.
Jimin held his head high when their eyes met. He maintained eye contact between them, Jungkook’s eyes standing out to him the most among his other features. They were round and big… unusually soft, pretty even. Looking at Jimin right now, they were missing that charm, though.
Instead of fear—as Jimin imagined that was the story his eyes were telling—or mutual sympathy at the very least, Jungkook’s eyes were full of anger. Full of anger that was directed at no one else but… him.
It puzzled Jimin.
Jimin didn’t hear the greetings being exchanged, too focused on Jungkook who wordlessly swerved around the table and claimed the seat next to him.
He was wearing a suit just like Jimin, in the same shade of white but with a different boutonniere: Jimin’s was blue, while Jungkook’s was yellow. The colors weren’t chosen at random. Yellow was the official color of Jimin’s family due to their eyes being golden, meanwhile all Jeons’ eyes were blue.
Jungkook’s expression didn't betray much of his inner thoughts. Along with his stern gaze and animosity that Jimin could smell off him, he clearly wasn’t pleased about the pinch they found themselves in. But what Jimin couldn’t understand was why all those negative emotions Jungkook was aiming at him and not their parents.
Did Jungkook think that he wanted any of this?
That he was in on the deal?
If so, he couldn't have been more mistaken. Jimin couldn’t communicate that to him verbally, not with their parents present, but Jungkook should’ve been able to sense it…
Was he deliberately ignoring it?
Jimin felt uneasy, having not even noticed when the food had been served and when they’d started eating. He picked up his fork, but no food made its way to his mouth, as in his distress he didn’t think he could stomach anything without throwing up.
His parents were extraordinarily nice, their voices dripping with honey, smiles plastered on their faces. The sight was making Jimin feel sick, especially that the Jeons were actively taking part in it as well, going along with the absurdity of the situation, rather than putting a stop to it.
He was so out of it, eyes not focused on anything in particular, that he completely missed someone addressing him. It was only as he sensed his father glare on him that he reluctantly looked at Ms Jeon, not hiding his displeasure at being spoken to.
“What?”
Ms Jeon was briefly stunned at his rudeness, and his father quickly jumped in, trying to salvage the situation. He apologized to the Jeons as Jimin went back to playing with his food, tuning everything out again. His father, unfortunately, wasn’t having it.
His father’s words were distorted in Jimin’s mind as he hadn’t been paying attention, but he still froze. He looked up, asking again but this time his voice was shaky, quiet. “What…?”
“It’s time for you to exchange the mark,” his father repeated himself, at the verge of losing his patience and through his eyes alone, threatening Jimin to pull himself together or else he’d taste the consequences of his insubordination.
Jimin dropped his fork, the sound of it cluttering against the plate cutting through the now silent room, sounding extremely loud in his ears. He swallowed, looking straight into his father’s eyes. “A mark?”
“Yes, a claiming mark,” he clarified, annoyed. “Jungkook, please, do the honors.”
Jimin’s body felt paralyzed as he heard Jungkook’s chair scratch against the floor. It was the exact moment that Jimin lost the connection with the real world, going down the despair spiral. There was blood rushing in his ears, his skin erupting in shivers.
He barely felt it when Jungkook stepped closer to him and leaned down, obstructing his view of the table and the rest of the room as he tilted his head to the side to expose his neck. Jungkook lowered down Jimin’s collar, doing so easily since the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing the spot where his scent gland was.
For a brief moment Jimin thought back to his plan, to how he was going to run away after the dinner, but with this…
No, he could still…
He could…
Jimin felt Jungkook inching closer and he raised his hands, placing them on Jungkook’s chest to push him away. Jungkook wrapped his fingers around his wrists, squeezing tightly and pushing through, not minding Jimin’s weak attempts of protest.
It was then when Jungkook pressed his nose against the junction between his neck and the shoulder that Jimin finally smelled it.
Jungkook’s scent.
It was breezy, just like the sea, refreshing in a way, faint yet strong. It wasn’t overpowering, even though he could smell other notes like bergamot and rose that were involuntarily tickling his nose. His scent was pleasant. It should’ve been pleasant… but Jimin had to fight the urge not to gag.
It was nothing like his best friend’s. It disgusted him, making him breathless and his head spin, irritating his nostrils.
Jimin wanted to get away, but Jungkook didn’t let him. He considered using more force, but after already taking one tranquilizer shot in the neck that made his head feel quite fuzzy and him sleepy, he didn’t want to risk taking another one. If he had to go through this, he wanted to be conscious.
Maybe if Jungkook helped, though… if they could fight and run away together… maybe then they could…
His breath stuttered once Jungkook started rubbing his nose against his scent gland, fingers twisting into the front of Jungkook’s dress shirt.
He’d never felt so violated in his life before, having a wolf he didn’t know, practically a stranger, be so up close in his space, rubbing his scent all over him and breathing him in. Scenting was considered a comforting gesture, but Jimin felt so nauseous he could throw up at any moment now.
When the bite came and Jungkook sunk his teeth into his skin, tearing the flesh a bit, Jimin sagged against the chair. He distanced himself mentally from what was happening, thinking of everything but Jungkook holding him and giving him a claiming mark—one that claimed Jimin as his mate.
Jungkook didn’t linger longer than necessary, pulling away shortly after. Jimin couldn’t force himself to look at him, not even when Jungkook loosened his collar and bared his own neck for him.
Telling himself that the bites would disappear as long as they just separated and never saw each other again… or if someone else claimed him; that in theory it wasn’t as permanent as some would prefer it to be, Jimin bit into Jungkook’s scent gland, holding back his tears.
All the while as their parents watched, satisfied with closing yet another deal.
Jungkook was sitting right beside him when they were being driven to their new home, neither of them saying a word to each other.
Jimin felt like he was having an out of body experience and he couldn’t even blame it on the sedatives that he’d been given. The dose wasn’t nearly enough to have a long lasting effect, having worn off a while ago. He still refused to let himself snap back into reality, the events of today having simply overwhelmed him.
When they stepped out of the car, Jungkook disappeared off somewhere and Jimin found himself being glad at not having to spend a second longer in his company.
If it wasn’t for the suppressant jab he got every year, it’d have been more than likely that he’d have felt somewhat attached to him, but in those circumstances… there was just deep hatred oozing from his heart, and not even for Jungkook.
Everyone, he hated everyone at that moment.
Once inside, Jimin made a beeline to the bathroom. As soon as he locked the door behind him, ignoring his phone that was vibrating with notifications—he’d put it on mute some time ago—he stripped off his clothes, jumping straight in the shower.
He knew it wasn’t going to help, but he turned on the tap with the hot water, letting it reach almost a scalding temperature.
The shower was clearly brand new, but it was already fully equipped. He grabbed a sponge, squeezing a lot of liquid soap onto it and making it foamy. He scrubbed his body diligently, paying a huge attention to his neck, scrubbing and scrubbing until he unwittingly drew blood.
He was breathing heavily, desperately trying to make Jungkook’s scent disappear off his body and not mingle with his own, even though it was futile.
Jimin wasn’t sure when, but at some point he found himself sitting on the floor, the water streaming down his face and mixing with his tears. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d gotten here, but when he finally left the shower, he was exhausted and not just mentally, but physically as well.
He dried off his body and his hair, his wounded neck already perfectly healed, and grabbed a fluffy bathrobe from the closet, wrapping it tightly around himself.
From the size of the bathroom he could tell that it was the master one, which meant that behind the other door—not the one he’d used to enter—Jungkook could be waiting in their bedroom. It was already evening and since they were supposed to live together from now on, it’d only make sense for Jungkook to be there.
Jimin didn’t want to find out if his deduction was right.
He made sure to rinse the shower thoroughly, especially the blood that splattered over the walls. Then, he left through the door he came through.
Once he was confident that the hallway was empty of anyone, he walked to the far end of it, entering one of the last rooms on that floor. It happened to be a guest room and Jimin didn’t even hesitate before he locked all doors and crawled on the bed in complete darkness.
Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep, curled up into a ball under the sheets. His night was far from being quiet and peaceful, the memories of today’s events haunting him in his dreams and making him sob in his sleep.