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Pack.
The word stirred something deep and aching in Seonghwa’s chest. He’d watched them from behind fences, from village edges, and from the safety of chains. Wolves who moved together, slept together, and fought together.
“I won’t stay,” he promised quickly. “Just—please. Let me rest.”
Hongjoong straightened, gaze flicking briefly to the other two. They waited on him, tension coiled tight.
“You get three nights,” Hongjoong said. “Until you can walk.”
Hope flared so bright it hurt.
“After that,” Hongjoong continued, voice hardening, “you leave. You are not pack.”
The words landed like a reminder, sharp but fair. The pain stung, but Seonghwa couldn't be mad. He wasn't pack. Relief crashed through Seonghwa anyway. His chest heaved, breath shuddering.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
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Or. Seonghwa was raised as a pet -- a dog. He was born a wolf. Strong, elegant ... easily submissive and easy to train. Except, one day, he is chased from the only place he knows as home. They had the other dogs attack him.
He didn't know how to survive on his own. He was barely a wolf. He knew nothing of pack dynamics or even how to hunt.
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Bookmark Notes:
reading ch15, lovvvving it
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18