Jungkook was hiding in the forest.

The air was cold. His shirt was thin. His skin was hot,too hot.

He could feel something wrong deep inside him.

His heat was starting.

And the village would smell it soon.

If they did, they would take him.

They always took the Omega when the sea called.

This time, the sea wanted him.

He pressed his hands against a tree. He breathed in. Out. In again.

But the scent came anyway.

Salt. Blood. Smoke.

He heard a sound,a bell.

His heart dropped.

It was time.

He ran deeper into the trees, bare feet hitting cold ground. His body felt too light, like he wasn’t real anymore.

He didn’t want to be chosen.

But he already knew…

He was.

They found him quickly.

Jungkook was too weak to keep running. His body felt heavy. Heat was crawling under his skin like fire.

He had no strength to fight.

Four villagers came. Two men, one woman, and the elder, Haneul. She wore red beads made of sea-glass and smiled like it meant nothing.

They didn’t ask. They just grabbed him.

“Hold him,” someone said. “He’s burning.”

He kicked. Bit. Cursed. It didn’t help.

They tied his hands with rough rope. His ankles too. They wrapped red cloth around his chest, soaked in salt. His skin stung. His lips cracked.

The village was quiet.

No one came to help.

Doors shut. Windows closed. People turned away.

He was paraded down the path like a gift.

Children peeked out, then hid.

The old butcher’s son, the one who once held Jungkook’s hand, lowered his eyes and said nothing.

They took him to the cliff.

The sky was grey. The sea below looked black.

They placed him on the stone. Cold. Hard. Waiting.

Elder Haneul knelt in front of him.

“You’ll make a beautiful bride,” she said softly. “Try not to scream too much. He likes them quiet.”

She kissed his forehead.

He shook.

And then, they pushed him off.

Falling felt like flying, but only for a second.

Then,

CRASH.

The sea hit him like a wall.

Cold. Sharp. Endless.

He sank fast. Chains pulled him down. Water filled his ears. His mouth. His eyes.

He didn’t know which way was up.

His body burned from the heat inside and the cold outside. His chest screamed for air.

And then,

everything changed.

The water wasn’t water anymore.

It was soft.

Warm.

It felt like silk.

Jungkook opened his eyes.

He wasn’t drowning.

He wasn’t cold.

He was floating… in a place that glowed green and gold.

A cathedral. Huge. Beautiful. Made of bone and coral.

Chains slipped off him.

He was free.

He looked around, slowly, scared.

And then he saw it.

A shadow. A man.

He stood tall in the middle of the glowing hall.

Eyes like gold fire. Hair floating like smoke.

Not moving.

Watching.

Waiting.

A deep voice spoke, not loud, but it filled everything.

“You are early. And you are burning.”

Jungkook couldn’t speak.

The heat inside him was too strong.

He shook.

His skin was too hot. His thighs ached. His heart thumped like a drum.

The man stepped closer.

Still not touching. Still calm.

His scent hit Jungkook hard, warm, dark, sweet. Alpha.

Jungkook gasped and stepped back.

“Stay away,” he said.

The man tilted his head.

“I will not touch you,” he said. “Not unless you ask me to.”

Jungkook flinched.

He didn’t know this man.

But something inside him did.

The bond was there. Waiting.

He fell to his knees.

“I hate you,” he whispered.

The man didn’t look hurt.

“That’s allowed,” he said.

Jungkook woke in a bed made of seaweed and silk.

He was warm. Dry. Clean.

The air wasn’t air. The room wasn’t normal.

Nothing here was normal.

He stood. The robe he wore shimmered blue and green.

A silver ring was on his ankle.

He hadn’t seen it before.

He looked around, and found him again.

The man.

Still quiet. Still watching.

Taehyung.

He didn’t speak until Jungkook did.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me,” Jungkook said.

“I haven’t,” Taehyung replied.

“Then what is this?” He pointed to the ring.

“A seal. To hold the bond back.”

Jungkook stared.

“And if I ask you to remove it?”

“I will touch you.”

Silence.

Then Taehyung spoke again, soft, steady.

“You will stop shaking when I say your name.”

Jungkook froze.

“You don’t remember it, do you?” Taehyung whispered.

“Let me remind you.”

“Jungkook.”

The place was quiet, but not dead.

It felt like the walls were breathing.

Jungkook stood alone in the wide hallway, staring up at the curved ceiling. It looked like a church, but it was made of coral and glowing bones. Soft green lights floated in the air. They moved without sound, like fish made of fire.

Every step he took, the floor gave slightly under his feet. Like skin. Like something alive.

He didn’t want to touch the walls again.

Last time, they felt warm. They moved under his hand.

Not stone.

Not wood.

Living.

He walked slowly, wrapped in the strange robe Taehyung gave him. It clung to him when he moved, like it wanted to stay close.

The air wasn’t really air. It was thick. Wet. Warm. His skin never fully dried.

Everything here felt like the sea, but there was no water.

No waves.

No sky.

Just the deep, heavy quiet.

He passed a window. Or maybe it was a door. It was tall and curved, made of glass that shimmered like a bubble. He pressed a hand to it.

Outside, there was only black.

Nothingness.

But the glass was warm.

And it throbbed under his palm.

He pulled back.

"This place isn’t dead," he whispered.

He didn’t expect an answer.

But the lights above flickered once, like the cathedral had heard him.

He walked further into the hall.

Strange carvings covered the walls. Some were names. Others looked like eyes, or teeth, or hands. He passed a silver gate that opened on its own. Behind it, a room full of mirrors. He didn’t go in.

He was afraid to see what they would show him.

After a while, he stopped walking. He was breathing hard.

Not from fear.

From the bond.

It was still there, humming in his chest. Not pulling. Not pushing.

Just... waiting.

He hated it.

And hated how much part of him wanted to follow it.

There was a sound behind him.

Not footsteps.

A breath.

He turned.

Taehyung stood at the end of the hallway, far but not far enough. His eyes glowed softly in the dark.

He didn’t speak.

He just watched.

Jungkook took one step back.

“Why are you following me?” he asked.

“I’m not,” Taehyung said. His voice was calm, like deep water. “I was already here.”

Jungkook frowned. “How did you know where I was?”

Taehyung tilted his head. “I always know.”

“Because of the bond?”

“No,” he said. “Because of you.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say to that.

So he turned and kept walking.

But he felt those golden eyes on his back the whole time.

He found a room at the top of a narrow stairwell. It was round, with no doors or windows. The light here was soft and blue. The walls curved like a shell.

He sat on the floor and pulled his knees to his chest.

He didn’t cry.

He didn’t scream.

He just sat.

And felt the bond.

It didn’t hurt. Not now.

But it filled the room with him.

His scent. His heat. His fear.

And far away, he could feel Taehyung again.

Not close.

But listening.

Always listening.

The next hallway was different.

Jungkook had wandered for what felt like hours. The halls here changed when he wasn’t looking. Some stretched longer. Others moved behind him.

But this one was still.

Quiet.

The floor was made of dark stone, polished like glass. The walls were shaped like ribs. Tall bones curved inward from both sides, forming a long tunnel. It felt like he was walking through a spine.

Each step echoed.

There were little lights glowing in the wall—blue and soft.

And under each one, there was a shrine.

The first shrine held a ring.

It was silver. Old. Bent, like someone had worn it too long. It sat on a smooth white stone, surrounded by dried white flowers.

Above it, carved in coral, was a name:

Nyun, who Sang Him Quiet.

Jungkook stared.

He didn’t know that name.

But he felt… something.

Not sadness.

More like the feeling you get when someone says your name and you haven’t told them it.

He moved to the next shrine.

A ribbon.

Tied in a perfect bow. Pale red. Frayed at the edges. A little blood on the tip.

Solae, Third of the Unwept.

More shrines followed.

A necklace. A lock of hair. A veil.

Each one carefully placed.

Each one surrounded by dried roses, pearls, coral, and bone.

Each one with a name.

Jungkook walked slower now.

This was not a hallway.

It was a graveyard.

Not for bodies—but for memories.

He stopped in front of a mirror. It stood taller than him, framed in black shell. The surface shimmered like water, not glass.

He stepped closer.

His reflection was blurry.

Then it wasn’t his at all.

A girl looked back at him.

She had dark eyes. Her lips were cracked. A bruise circled her neck like a collar.

She didn’t blink.

She just stared.

Jungkook’s chest tightened.

He tried to back away—

But the girl blinked. Once.

And was gone.

His own face returned.

Pale. Sweating. Wide-eyed.

“You saw her.”

Jungkook spun around.

Taehyung stood in the shadows, just beyond the light. Not close. Watching.

He always watched.

“Who was she?” Jungkook asked.

“She loved me once,” Taehyung said.

“Did you love her?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Jungkook’s voice dropped. “What happened to her?”

“She asked to forget,” Taehyung said. “So I let her.”

Jungkook stepped away from the mirror.

He looked back at the shrines. The veil. The hair. The soft, pretty pieces left behind.

“They were all brides?”

“Yes.”

“Did you love them all?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Taehyung’s eyes didn’t glow this time.

But his answer did.

“Because none of them stayed.”

Jungkook said nothing.

The bond was quiet between them now.

It didn’t pull. It didn’t push.

But it filled the space like a storm before thunder.

He looked back at the mirror one more time.

And whispered—

“Do you think I’ll ask to forget too?”

Taehyung’s answer came slow. Careful. Soft.

“No.”

“Why?”

Taehyung stepped one inch closer.

“Because you’re not afraid of being mine,” he said. “You’re afraid of choosing it.”