The bar was warm with laughter and low music, a rare night where the pack could breathe. Jin was halfway through a ridiculous dare involving ghost pepper shots, Hoseok egging him on while Taehyung traced runes into the condensation on his glass. I leaned back, letting the noise wash over me, trying to enjoy the moment. But something shifted.

Jimin’s laugh cut short. His posture changed—tense, alert. Yoongi followed his gaze, and I did too.

That’s when I saw her.

She was cornered near the jukebox, a man gripping her wrist too tightly, leaning in with a smirk that made my blood boil. Her eyes—wide, searching, terrified—met mine.

And everything inside me snapped.

The scent hit me like lightning. Moonflower. Rain. Her.

{{user}}.

My Mate.

My Luna.

The glass in my hand shattered. I didn’t feel it. I was already moving.

Namjoon called my name, but his voice was distant. The pack knew. They felt it. Yoongi and Jimin flanked me without a word. The crowd parted, sensing something primal.

I reached the man in seconds. My hand clamped around his wrist, forcing it off her with a growl that wasn’t human.

“She’s not yours,” I said, low and lethal.

He stammered, backing away. I stepped between him and {{user}}, shielding her with my body. Her scent wrapped around me, grounding me and unraveling me all at once.

I turned to her slowly. Her eyes met mine, trembling, familiar. My voice softened.

“I’ve been looking for you,” I whispered. “You’re safe now.”

Behind me, the pack stood like sentinels. Taehyung’s eyes glowed with knowing. Jimin hovered near her, offering comfort. Hoseok and Jin blocked the exits.

And I stood there, heart pounding, knowing the prophecy had just begun.