* * *

Beomhyeon’s heart pounded with fear and rage.

He felt an unfamiliar sense of helplessness, his pheromones erratically flaring as if out of control.

“You.”

Beomhyeon’s bloodshot eyes turned toward the old man who had suddenly appeared behind him.

As a rare dominant alpha, his senses were usually keen, but he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching.

“What a fierce look. How could someone like you be destined for that gentle child? Tsk.”

The old man clicked his tongue, surveying Beomhyeon before letting out a long sigh.

“Go to the second building past that alley. That’s where you’ll find him.”

“…Who are you?”

“Is this the time to be asking that? Hurry, before you regret it. Unless you want to lose something precious again.”

The old man’s words made Beomhyeon bite his lip hard.

For some reason, his voice reminded him of his late mother.

As clarity returned to his thoughts, Beomhyeon nodded briefly and ran toward the location the old man had pointed out.

The building was so dilapidated it was hard to believe Jungin was there.

Its windows were crisscrossed with strips of blue tape, and even the doors seemed barely functional.

As dust stirred with each step, Beomhyeon narrowed his eyes. Spotting a loose thread on the ground, his instincts flared.

“Lee Jungin.”

The faint scent of Jungin’s pheromones wafted up from the basement.

Descending the stairs, Beomhyeon found an empty office, dark and oppressive.

“Lee Jungin.”

Scanning the desolate interior, he was about to turn back when he heard a faint sound behind a tightly shut door.

“Please… I’m sorry… I was wrong…”

The trembling voice pleading for forgiveness was one he had heard before.

“Lee Jungin!”

Bang! Bang!

Beomhyeon pounded on the closed door, shouting for Jungin.

But all he heard in return was a rising wail—no clear answer came back.

Clenching his fists tightly, Beomhyeon struck the doorknob without hesitation.

“I… I was wrong…”

The weaker Jungin’s voice became, the more Beomhyeon’s anxiety spiked.

As he battered the door with all his strength, injuries began to mark his hands and body.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the unyielding doorknob gave way under his last desperate blow, falling limply to the ground.

“Jungin!”

Beomhyeon rushed inside and found a small figure curled up on the floor, trembling.

“Lee Jungin! Jungin-ah!”

Kneeling down, Beomhyeon urgently gathered Jungin into his arms, quickly scanning his face.

It was clear he had suffered another episode. Bright red nail marks streaked across his pale neck.

“Lee Jungin! Stay with me, Jungin, wake up!”

“Hic… I… I don’t want this… These memories… I hate them, Beomhyeon-ah.”

Jungin slowly opened his tear-filled eyes at the sound of Beomhyeon’s voice, struggling to breathe.

“I… Lee Jungin… I won’t do it. I won’t anymore… I was wrong… I won’t do it…”

Tears streamed down Jungin’s face as he muttered blankly, staring at nothing.

Watching him, Beomhyeon’s gaze wavered like it was shattering, taking in the sight of the person he cherished more than anything.

---

“Nngh…”

The suffocating sensation of something tightly pressing against him woke Jungin.

He inhaled sharply, finding himself face-to-face with Beomhyeon.

‘What the…?’

Startled, Jungin blinked wide eyes, cautiously observing the man in front of him.

Despite the proximity, Beomhyeon’s flawless skin revealed not a single pore.

Deep eye sockets, soft yet sharp features, and red lips… Wait, what am I doing?

Swallowing nervously, Jungin stole a few more glances at Beomhyeon’s face before clearing his throat and looking away.

‘Huh? This isn’t home—it’s a hospital?’

Frowning, Jungin examined his surroundings.

The sterile environment confirmed it was indeed a hospital.

Who’s sick?

Lowering his gaze to check Beomhyeon’s condition, Jungin froze upon noticing his own hospital gown.

“Jungin-ah.”

Beomhyeon stirred, awakened by Jungin’s movement.

Guilt flashed across Jungin’s face as he hesitated before asking.

“What happened? Am I hurt?”

“…You don’t remember?”

Beomhyeon’s dark eyes rippled, their depths heavy with emotion.

What memory?

Jungin began piecing together fragments of the previous day.

After finishing his part-time shift, he had called Beomhyeon, crying…

As he tried to recall more, a stabbing pain shot through his head, as if an ice pick was drilling into his brain.

“Ahh…!”

“Jungin-ah!”

Meeting Beomhyeon’s concerned gaze, Jungin felt an eerie sense of déjà vu.

Cold sweat formed on his forehead as his vitals started to destabilize.

“Hic… Ah, it hurts…”

The harder he tried to remember, the more excruciating the pain became.

Tears welled up, and his gasping breaths quickened.

Helplessly watching Jungin writhe in pain, Beomhyeon clenched his teeth in frustration.

Beep. Beep.

The machines connected to Jungin emitted an alarm, and within moments, medical staff burst into the room.

“Young master, are you all right?”

Even as people swarmed around him, Jungin shook his head weakly, indicating he was fine.

Yet everyone’s expressions remained grave.

“Oh…”

It didn’t take long for Jungin to understand why.

Crimson stains had begun spreading across the pristine white sheets.

Alarmed, Jungin tried to lift his head, but dizziness blurred his vision.

Sensation drained from his limbs as he felt blood leaving his body.

“I’m… really fine…”

His faint words trailed off as Beomhyeon steadied his wavering frame.

From a distance, Jungin noticed his brothers rushing into the room, their faces etched with panic.

“Hyung…”

“Damn it, what’s happening to him?! Jungin-ah!”

His eldest brother, Jeongseo, was crying.

The other brothers looked equally distraught, their faces disheveled as if they hadn’t rested in days.

“Why do you look like that? Are you okay?”

Completely oblivious to his own dire state, Jungin’s first concern was for his brothers.

Jungjin, his second eldest brother, bit his lip hard, struggling to contain his emotions.

For three agonizing days, Jungin had battled unexplained symptoms.

His fever would spike to 40 degrees before plummeting, and countless tests failed to reveal the cause.

Watching their youngest sibling suffer helplessly had been torturous for his brothers.

“Are you in pain?”

“I’m just a little dizzy… and sleepy…”

Though Beomhyeon’s embrace bothered Jeongseo, Jungin seemed entirely unaware as he nestled into the comfort of Beomhyeon’s arms.

His once-plump cheeks were now hollow, and his frail body felt like skin and bones.

Tenderly brushing Jungin’s hair, Jungjin spoke gently.

“It’s the painkillers. If you’re tired, get some rest, baby.”

“Mm… Maybe I should…”

Though curious about why he was in the hospital, Jungin’s body felt too heavy and exhausted.

He nestled closer to Beomhyeon’s scent, allowing his eyelids to drift shut.

---

“When Jungin is discharged, I’ll take him with me.”

“…”

“Preparations are already complete. Just accept it.”

Beomhyeon couldn’t respond, his guilt silencing him.

Watching him, Jungjin’s own heart ached.

He knew the reason for Jungin’s collapse but hadn’t shared it with Beomhyeon.

Since childhood, Jungin had harbored an intense fear of confined, dark spaces.

Beomhyeon mentioned Jungin had been trapped in a dark room during a part-time job.

Even if Jungin couldn’t remember, his subconscious likely triggered his trauma.

Sighing, Jungjin found solace in the fact that Jungin still recognized him.

Whenever Jungin suffered an episode, his behavior would change drastically, leading to dangerous decisions—running away, jumping from heights, even attempting to end his life.

Would it be better to leave things as they are?

Or should they pursue psychiatric treatment?

Forcing Jungin to confront forgotten memories might only worsen his trauma.

Damn it.

Faced with the impossible, Jungjin clenched his fists in frustration.

Knock, knock.

Dr. Choi entered the room, bowing his head slightly.

“What is it, Dr. Choi?”

“Well, it’s about…”

* * *