Chapter Text
Warning- Violence/Death/Blood
The Mooncrest Pack stood unrivaled among all others.
It was the largest pack ever known, its name spoken with reverence and awe across distant territories. Stories of Mooncrest traveled faster than the wind itself—tales of unmatched bravery, indomitable warriors, and fearless leadership. Its alphas were the stuff of legend, each trained from a young age in combat, strategy, and survival. Their strength was not inherited easily; it was forged through relentless discipline, bloodshed, and sacrifice.
Yet Mooncrest was not built on strength alone.
The land itself seemed blessed by the moon. Endless fields of green rolled across the territory, forests thick with life and ancient trees, rivers clear and abundant. The soil was rich and fertile, yielding crops that fed not only Mooncrest but neighboring packs as well. Farming flourished, and hunger was a stranger here.
And then there was beauty.
Mooncrest was renowned for its breathtaking omegas and striking, courageous alphas. Wolves from distant lands often journeyed here with hopeful hearts, seeking a mate worthy of legend. Omega parents arrived proudly, dressing their children in exquisite fabrics, adorning them with jewels and silks, eager to present them before Mooncrest’s alphas in the hope of securing a powerful bond.
The pack was always alive with motion.
Alphas were rarely still—constantly hunting, patrolling borders, training, or preparing for battle. Their presence was commanding, their scents sharp and dominant. Omegas moved differently, but no less purposefully. They groomed themselves with care, decorating their bodies with delicate jewelry and finely crafted clothing, allowing their natural beauty to shine. Many learned to control their scents, letting them bloom softly in the air—subtle, enticing, designed to be noticed, to be chosen.
But this world—this vibrant, hopeful world—was not the same for Omega Jeon Jungkook.
Most wolves in Mooncrest knew his name.
And they knew the tragedy that followed it.
Jungkook had been only eleven years old when his life shattered.
That day had begun quietly. He had gone into the forest with his parents, laughter echoing between the trees as they searched for suitable wood to bring back to the village. The forest was familiar, comforting—until it wasn’t.
Six rogues attacked without warning.
The air shifted, heavy with danger. Before Jungkook could even scream, his alpha father reacted on instinct, shifting into his massive wolf form and placing himself between the rogues and his family. Teeth clashed, claws tore through fur, and the forest erupted into chaos.
When a rogue sank its teeth into his father’s shoulder, blood spilling onto the forest floor, his father threw his head back and howled. It was deep and powerful—a desperate call for help meant for the Mooncrest village.
Jungkook’s mother did not retreat.
She lunged forward without hesitation, fearless despite the odds, fighting beside her mate. Jungkook stumbled back and hid behind a tree, small hands gripping the bark as his entire body trembled. Fear crushed his chest as he watched his parents bleed for him.
He screamed for help until his throat burned, tears blurring his vision. Somewhere deep inside, he believed—hoped—that someone must have heard his father’s howl. But hope did little to ease the terror flooding his veins.
He saw his mother slash a rogue’s eyes with her claws, blinding it. The rogue howled in pain before striking back, kicking her hard enough to send her crashing to the ground. Her cry shattered Jungkook’s heart.
That was when fear turned into desperation.
Sobbing, Jungkook spotted a heavy stick lying nearby. He grabbed it with both hands, lifting it with all the strength his small body could muster. With a broken cry, he ran toward the rogue and swung.
The impact was solid.
The rogue staggered back, stunned, blood dripping from its snout. For a brief, fragile second, Jungkook thought he had succeeded.
Then the rogue straightened.
Its eyes locked onto him.
Jungkook froze as that rogue—and another—turned toward him, hunger and rage etched into their faces. Before they could reach him, his mother gathered what little strength she had left and leapt, crashing down onto the second rogue, her jaws locking around its neck.
She bought him seconds.
Seconds that were not enough.
The first rogue lunged. Claws ripped across Jungkook’s arm, pain exploding through his body as he fell to the ground. He tried to crawl away, sobbing, dragging himself through dirt and leaves—
But the rogue was faster.
Sharp jaws clamped down on Jungkook’s right ankle.
The pressure was unimaginable. He screamed—raw, loud, desperate—as he felt bone crack beneath the rogue’s bite. Agony consumed him, blinding him, drowning out the world.
Then—
An arrow sliced through the air.
It struck the rogue square in the head, killing it instantly. The body collapsed to the ground—but even in death, its jaws remained locked around Jungkook’s shattered ankle.
Blood soaked the earth.
As Jungkook’s screams echoed through the forest, the pup he once was disappeared forever.
Other Mooncrest alphas arrived swiftly, cutting down the remaining rogues. One escaped, casting a hateful glance before vanishing into the trees.
Jungkook lay motionless, tears slipping silently down his face as he watched his parents’ bodies fall lifeless to the ground. Blood covered them like a cruel offering to death. He tried to crawl toward them, desperate to be near them—but a sudden tug at his ankle sent him screaming again.
He could no longer feel his foot.
Yet the pain in his body was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.
An alpha knelt beside him, lifting the broken pup gently into his arms and carrying him back to the village. The expressions on the other alphas’ faces were grim, heavy with sorrow.
Jungkook remembered the burial clearly.
He watched as the alphas laid his parents into the earth, flowers placed upon their graves, prayers whispered beneath the open sky. He felt nothing—empty, hollow, as though his soul had already followed them.
The Pack Alpha approached him then, placing a gentle hand on his head.
“I know how you’re feeling, pup,” the alpha said softly. “But your parents would be sad to see you cry. They want you to live well, to be happy. And for that—I’m here. Our pack is here. You won’t be alone.”
An omega stepped forward and wrapped Jungkook in a tight embrace, whispering comfort. Others followed, offering kind words and support. Still, Jungkook heard the murmurs in the crowd—whispers like poison.
“He’s a cursed omega.”
“His mother suffered ever since he was born.”
The Pack Alpha silenced such talk with a sharp glance, shielding the boy from their cruelty.
Jungkook’s foot was later amputated at the ankle. The injury was too severe, infection inevitable. The pain was unbearable—but even that paled compared to the emptiness left behind by his parents’ absence.
In time, Jungkook crafted a wooden support to help him walk. He discovered a talent for woodworking, creating delicate and beautiful pieces that he sold to earn a living. Though the Pack Alpha offered him a home, Jungkook refused politely. He wanted independence. He wanted to survive on his own terms.
Still, the alpha watched over him from afar, sending help when Jungkook needed repairs done on his small wooden house—tasks Jungkook could no longer manage alone.
Jungkook was never ashamed of his disability.
He went to the market regularly, selling his creations. With travelers constantly visiting Mooncrest—for alliances, trade, or mating—his work sold quickly. He earned enough for food, clothing, and a modest life.
Yet cruelty lingered.
Some alphas and omegas mocked him. Others looked down on him. Jungkook learned to keep his head low, careful not to draw trouble. He was gentle, sensitive, and alone—unable to fight back.
But not entirely alone.
Those who had helped raise him were still there, quietly watching over him. And the Pack Alpha—soon to step down, his son ready to take his place—remained someone Jungkook would always be grateful to.
________
Jungkook let the alpha stack the freshly cut wood neatly against the wall inside his small home. The scent of pine and earth filled the room, familiar and comforting. The alpha—one who often delivered supplies to him—gave a polite nod before leaving. Jungkook paid him on time, as always. Independence mattered to him more than most things.
Morning light filtered gently through the window.
It was still early, the kind of quiet hour Jungkook treasured. This was his routine—eat, prepare, then leave for the market before the village fully awakened. He never stayed out after dark. He had learned that lesson long ago.
Some alphas and omegas still mocked him. Sometimes they whispered cruel things. Sometimes they deliberately ruined his wooden crafts when no one was looking. They never hit him—never dared to cross that line. Everyone knew of his connection to the elder Pack Alpha. But they also knew Jungkook would never complain.
He hated the thought of being seen as a pitiful omega who hid behind protection.
And the bullies used that knowledge like a blade, pressing it against his throat in the form of threats and quiet cruelty.
Jungkook lifted his left leg forward, planting his wooden stick firmly ahead of him for support, and made his way into the kitchen. Every movement was practiced, careful, and steady. His body had learned this rhythm through years of patience and pain.
The kitchen was small but warm. Everything inside it had once belonged to his parents—the wooden table his father had carved, the shelves his mother had organized so neatly. Being surrounded by their things brought him a sense of peace. He didn’t feel alone here.
He poured himself a glass of warm milk and placed two pieces of toast beside it, carrying them to the dining table. Slowly, he lowered himself into the chair, setting his stick carefully within reach. Jungkook liked simple meals—nothing heavy, nothing excessive. A light breakfast, a proper dinner at night. He kept this balance carefully; illness was something he could not afford.
Today, he didn’t feel very hungry.
Still, he ate, savoring the quiet moment. No worries. No cruel voices. Just him.
A book lay open beside his plate. Most of his books came from outer packs—wolves who loved to write, to preserve stories. Jungkook collected them whenever he could. He had a small shelf dedicated entirely to books, each one a window into another world. Reading gave him escape. It gave him dreams he didn’t dare speak aloud.
By the time he finished, the sun had risen higher.
It was time to go.
---
The market buzzed with life by the afternoon.
Jungkook sat in his usual spot, wooden handicrafts neatly arranged in front of him—small carvings, toys, household tools, ornaments shaped like wolves and moons. The sun burned bright above his head, heat settling into his skin, but he didn’t mind. He smiled warmly at a customer, explaining patiently how to use one of his handcrafted tools.
The wolf nodded, impressed, and purchased it.
Then another came.
And another.
Jungkook loved the market. He loved the noise, the colors, the scents mixing in the air. He loved seeing wolves from different packs, hearing unfamiliar accents, watching their expressions change as they examined his work. He especially loved the pups—how they tugged on their parents’ hands, eyes wide with wonder, dragging them toward his stall when they spotted his unique creations.
Their laughter warmed something deep inside him.
“Oh, Jungkook-ssi, aren’t you having lunch today?”
He looked up to see an alpha vendor nearby. Jungkook smiled and shook his head lightly.
“I’m coming now. You go ahead,” he replied, already gathering his items into his bag.
Once finished, he made his way to the shaded area where many of the sellers gathered to eat. His lunchbox rested in his hands. Inside was sticky rice with mango—a dish he had first tasted during a festival. It was said to come from a distant land beyond the seas. He had fallen in love with it instantly. Sweet, light, and perfect for summer.
As he opened the box, an omega beside him groaned dramatically.
“Ugh, today is unbearably hot. I hate summer—oh! Jungkook-ssi, is that sticky rice and mango?” she said rapidly, barely pausing to breathe. “I knew it! In this heat, that dish is perfect. Can I have a taste?”
Jungkook laughed softly and nodded, offering her a portion.
She took a bite and immediately hummed, eyes lighting up as she gave him a thumbs-up.
“It’s so good—seriously! Please bring some tomorrow too!”
“Aish, it’s not that hard,” another omega interrupted loudly. “Stop bothering him!”
Jungkook shook his head quickly, smiling.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll bring some.”
He enjoyed moments like this—simple gossip, shared meals, laughter. He was an omega, after all. He liked talking. He liked listening.
But then the conversation shifted.
“I’ve reached my mating age,” one omega said suddenly, voice trembling with emotion. “And I want Alpha Seungmin. I’ve had a crush on him for so long.”
The words struck Jungkook like a sudden chill.
“You again,” another omega teased. “Well, it’s my age too. I hope a good alpha chooses me.”
Jungkook stared down at his lunch, appetite fading.
It was his age too.
“Oh—Jungkook-ssi,” the first omega said suddenly, realization dawning. “It’s your mating age as well, right?”
Several gazes turned toward him.
Another omega quickly nudged her.
“I—I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t mean to upset you!”
Jungkook smiled faintly, eyes drifting to his right leg.
Will any alpha ever choose me?
“Jungkook,” Seonhee said softly from across the group, her expression full of sympathy. “Don’t worry. We can find you an alpha.”
He smiled gently.
“No, that’s not necessary. I already know no one will choose me.”
“Stop being so insecure,” Hanji huffed. “If no alpha mates you, then I won’t mate either.”
“What? No!” Jungkook protested immediately. “You shouldn’t say that.”
Laughter followed, easing the tension.
But deep down—far deeper than he would ever admit—Jungkook wanted to be mated.
He wanted warmth. A bond. A place where he belonged completely.
And more than that…
He wanted *him*.
But that was impossible.
Right?
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