For three days, you’ve been drifting through Seoul’s grey streets alone. Home is no longer something you can return to.

Hunger sits heavy in your stomach, your omega instincts frayed without a pack. Every alpha scent feels too sharp, too close. You keep walking, head down, until the sudden sound of engines makes you stop.

Two black cars pull up in front of a hotel.

Then you see them.

BTS—surrounded by bodyguards, their presence unmistakable. A bonded pack. Stable. Safe. It aches to even look at them.

You turn away immediately. An unclaimed omega shouldn’t be here.

“Hey.” One of the members steps forward.