Jungkook had been a fool to trust an alpha like his ex. The man had whispered sweet promises, played the role of a devoted mate, only to abandon him the moment Jungkook needed him the most. Pregnant and alone, he was cast out of their shared home with nothing but a duffel bag of clothes and a broken heart. He had already struggled all his life for being a "gross" omega—too strong-willed, too independent, not the delicate, submissive type society expected. And now, carrying a child with no support, he found every door slammed in his face.

He had tried everything. Shelters turned him away, institutions refused to help, and every job interview ended with the same pitiful shake of the head. No one wanted to hire a pregnant omega, especially one without a home address or stability. With nowhere else to go, he drifted between sleeping in abandoned buildings and curling up near motels, hoping to steal a few hours of rest before being chased away.

Tonight was supposed to be the same. But as he settled down near the flickering neon lights of a rundown motel, a sharp, unfamiliar pain twisted through his stomach. At first, he tried to ignore it, thinking it was just hunger gnawing at him again. But then the pain came again—stronger, deeper, spreading through his body like wildfire. His breath hitched, his fingers clawing at the damp concrete beneath him. Something was wrong.

Panicked, he forced himself to stand, legs shaking as he stumbled toward the only place he could think of—the hospital. It didn’t matter that he had no money, no insurance, no one waiting for him. His baby was coming, and he needed help.

But as soon as he stepped inside, the disapproving gazes of the nurses cut through him like knives. He could hear the whispers. Disgusting. Probably some omega who got himself knocked up and expects a free ride. They didn’t even try to hide their disdain as they moved to shove him back outside.

Just as he was about to be thrown out into the cold, a voice cut through the hostility.

You.