Chapter Text
The forest stretched on forever.
Yoongi’s boots sank into damp leaves, each step louder in the emptiness than he wanted. Autumn had stripped the trees bare, branches like broken bones pointing toward a slate sky. Every breath he took came out white, thin clouds that vanished before he could catch them again. The weight in his arms was far heavier than the bundle of fur should have been. His pup, pressed tight against his chest, body trembling with hunger.
She whimpered, voice raw and thin, and Yoongi nearly stumbled as the sound tore through him. He tilted the fur back just enough to see her face, so small it barely filled his palm. Her lips worked, searching, mouth open against his skin.
“Shh,” he whispered, voice cracked from cold and sleepless nights. He pressed his mouth to her forehead, the warmth of his lips fleeting in the wind. “Appa’s here. Just hold on a little longer.”
He wished he could believe himself.
-Flashback-
He could still hear the voices of the pack echoing in his skull.
The elders sat in their circle, stone-faced, as he stood in the middle of the gathering hall. His daughter had been swaddled in his arms then too, barely a week old. His mate’s scent still lingered in the furs he carried her in, though the real thing had already been lowered into the earth.
“Your mate’s younger sister is of age,” the eldest had said, as if announcing the time of day. “You will take her as your omega.”
Yoongi had shaken his head before the words even finished. “No.”
“Alpha Min Yoongi,” another cut in, voice sharper. “It is the law. The line must be secured. A pup without two parents will be-”
“She will not be without parents,” Yoongi snapped, his chest tight, arms tightening around the infant. “She has me. She will always have me.”
A murmur rippled through the hall. Yoongi stood taller, daring anyone to challenge him.
But the third elder, cold-eyed and unmoved, spoke again. “You dishonor your mate’s sacrifice by leaving the bond empty.”
Something inside Yoongi had cracked. “I dishonor her by pretending she can be replaced.” His voice had risen, sharp enough to cut through the silence. “She gave her life to bring this child here. And you ask me to take her sister as if she were some- some placeholder? I will not.”
The silence that followed was heavier than stone.
When they banished him, it wasn’t with anger. That might have been easier to bear. It was with disappointment, with pity. As if his grief made him less of an Alpha, less of a man. They stripped him of his place, his rights, and turned their backs when he carried his pup out into the night.
He hadn’t looked back. He couldn’t.
- End of Flashback-
The pup stirred again, small fists twitching under the fur. Yoongi pressed her closer, his pace quickening though he had no destination. Each cry felt thinner than the last. She needed milk. She needed a wet nurse. And Yoongi, Yoongi was an Alpha, with nothing to give but arms that could hold and a heart already torn in half.
He walked faster, boots slipping on damp leaves, heart pounding with a fear he couldn’t name. If he stopped, if he rested, would she still be breathing come morning?
The thought was a blade at his throat.
By dusk, his body trembled from exhaustion. He sank to his knees at the edge of the road, lowering the bundle just enough to see her face. She was too quiet now. Her mouth moved weakly, eyes squeezed shut.
“Please,” Yoongi whispered, voice breaking as he rocked her gently. “Please don’t leave me too.”
Tears stung, hot despite the cold air. They blurred the edges of her tiny features until all he saw was another face, his mate’s, flushed and damp, eyes glazed with pain.
He had been there, holding her hand as she pushed, whispering encouragements through his own panic. He had felt her grip falter, had seen the sudden stillness in her chest. He remembered shouting, begging, pressing his ear to her mouth for any breath. The healers had pulled him away, putting the newborn in his arms instead.
A life for a life.
He hadn’t even had time to mourn before the pack started talking of duty, of what he owed. But what did he owe them? What did he owe anyone but the fragile miracle in his arms?
His tears fell onto her forehead, and she stirred faintly, lips moving against his skin. That tiny sign of life pulled a broken laugh from him, sharp and aching.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he swore, though his voice cracked. “I’ll find a way. I won’t let them take you too.”
When he forced himself to his feet again, his legs shook. He stumbled forward, leaning into the wind, scanning the distance for anything, smoke, firelight, shelter.
And then, at the crest of a hill, he saw it.
Far down the road, in a shallow valley, a faint glow cut through the dark. Lantern light in two windows, no more. An inn, maybe, or a lonely farmhouse.
Relief hit so hard his knees nearly buckled. He pressed a kiss to the pup’s cheek, whispering into the night.
“Just a little further, little one. We’ll find warmth tonight. I promise.”
He pulled the fur tighter, tucking her against his chest, and set one foot in front of the other. The lanterns flickered like stars fallen to earth, beckoning him closer.
He didn’t yet know who waited there, heart hollow and aching in his own way.
He didn’t yet know that grief could meet grief,
and heal.