At the estate , that night
POV: Ho In-su
The scent of rich cologne and low-burning incense hit him the second he stepped through the door. The lights were low. Classical piano played softly in the background—some piece Yohan always claimed helped him think when he wanted to rip someone's throat out.
Yohan was at the bar, pouring a drink. He looked up as In-su entered, expression unreadable.
"You saw them," Yohan said simply.
"I counted five," In-su replied. "At school. One pretending to fix a pipe, which I thought was cute."
Yohan exhaled a laugh—dry, dark, weary. "It's not a joke."
"No," In-su said, stepping forward. "It's not."
Their eyes met.
"You should've told me," In-su said quietly.
Yohan set the glass down with a faint clink. "I was going to."
"When?"
"When I was ready to hear you yell at me," Yohan said. "Which you're about to do."
"I'm not yelling," In-su said. "I'm asking. Why now? Why the sudden wall of muscle between me and the world?"
Yohan didn't speak right away. He looked down at the bar, jaw tight.
Then—
"They've seen you," he said.
In-su blinked. "Who?"
"My enemies. The ones who hate me. The ones who want to control me. They've noticed my visits to the school. Noticed you. They know what you are."
"A dominant omega?"
Yohan's voice dropped. "No. Mine."
The silence between them stretched, thick and trembling.
In-su's heart stuttered in his chest.
"You haven't even touched me," he whispered.
"I know," Yohan said. "And still—they know. They look at you and see something I want. Something I haven't had. That makes you a target."
In-su stared at him, chest tight.
"Do you see me like that?" he asked. "As something you want but haven't had?"
Yohan crossed the room in two steps, stopping inches away.
"No," he said quietly. "I see you as the only thing I've ever wanted that I'm scared of ruining."
In-su swallowed, breath catching.
"You don't need to protect me from the world, Yohan."
"I'm not," Yohan murmured. "I'm protecting the world from me—if they try to take you."
And there it was—the truth. Raw and burning between them.
Love, in the language of wolves.
In-su's pulse thrummed, heat rising in his chest, his ears.
It should've felt like a threat. It didn't.
It felt like truth. Like possession edged with restraint. Like desire leashed tight by fear.
Yohan's eyes, dark and sharp, flicked to his mouth.
"In-su," he said, voice low, nearly hoarse, "if I kiss you now, I won't be able to forget it. I won't be able to stop."
"Then don't stop," In-su said. "Because I'm not forgetting it either way."
Yohan didn't move at first. His hand hovered at In-su's jaw, fingers trembling with a restraint that felt unnatural on someone like him.
Then he kissed him.
No hesitation. No gentleness.
It was a claiming—slow, deep, possessive. The kind of kiss that made In-su's knees nearly give, made his hands fist in Yohan's shirt to stay grounded.
Yohan tasted like danger and control and something burning underneath. A man holding back everything except this.
When they finally broke apart, Yohan rested his forehead against In-su's.
"You have no idea what you've done to me."
"I think I do," In-su whispered. "Because I feel the same.".....
The next afternoon, outside the elementary school
POV: In-su
The morning after the kiss felt like a dream. Yohan hadn't said much—he'd held In-su's hand over breakfast like it was nothing, like it was everything, and had kissed his temple before In-su left for school.
It was all calm.
Until it wasn't.
Because the second In-su stepped outside during recess, he saw a figure leaning against the far fence.
Too familiar.
Too wrong.
His brother.
Disheveled. Pale. Smudged with dirt and desperation.
"In-su!" he hissed. "Come here!"
In-su didn't move.
He scanned the playground. None of the guards were immediately visible. Good. The kids were safe.
But the rage in his chest burned.
"I told you not to come back here ," In-su said, crossing to the fence with controlled steps.
"I had nowhere else to go," his brother whispered. "They're after me."
"You said you'd fix this. You promised me."
"I thought I had time—"
"You didn't."
His brother reached out to grab his sleeve. "Please. You have connections now. That Alpha—Yohan—he can protect us, right?"
In-su froze.
Even his brother knew now. Even he was using Yohan's name like a lifeline.
And just like that, the illusion of peace shattered.
"In-su," came a cold voice from behind.
Yohan's voice.
In-su turned. Yohan stood a few feet away, Seo Jin beside him, both men dressed like they'd come straight from a war room.
Yohan's eyes flicked to the man on the other side of the fence.
His whole body went still.
"What's he doing here?" Yohan asked quietly.
Yohan didn't look angry.
He looked calm. The kind of calm that came right before something exploded.
Then he looked at In-su.
"Get the children inside," he said. "Now!