Yu Jun stood in front of the mirror, fingers hesitating on the hem of his jacket. His duffel bag sat on the bed behind him, half-zipped, like it too was unsure about leaving. The room was silent, save for the rustle of fabric and the distant hum of life outside the guesthouse.
A knock came. Then the door creaked open without waiting for permission.
Yul stepped in, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "So," he said, voice quiet. "Did you find what you came here for?"
Yu Jun didn't turn. He stared at his reflection, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He didn't answer.
Yul's gaze softened, but his voice didn't lose its edge. "You don't have to tell me. Just… don't lie to yourself."
Still no response.
After a pause, Yul pushed off the doorframe. "I'll be outside."
The door shut with a soft click, leaving behind a silence that now felt heavier.
Outside, the sun was just beginning to climb, casting golden light across the gravel lot where Ye Jun and his friends were waiting.
Ryung was perched on the hood of a car, chewing on a stick of gum with all the patience of a storm cloud. Kwang was leaning against a tree, arms crossed, watching the road like he could summon their ride by sheer will. Hanjae stood with his hands in his pockets, exchanging muted conversation with Jin, who was fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.
"Seriously, I get that he's busy or whatever, but he could've at least waved or yelled a 'bye' from the porch," Jin grumbled, pouting. "I'm his only nephew! He raised me! What kind of tragic drama is this?"
Ye Jun, beside him, chuckled—an uncharacteristically light sound—and tilted his head toward the road. His entire posture shifted in an instant, eyes lighting up as a silver SUV rolled into view.
"Guess the moms are here," Hanjae said, smirking.
The car barely came to a stop before Ye Jun was already moving, that usually controlled demeanor dissolving into something unguarded and quietly radiant.
Ari stepped out first, elegant as ever, while Hana rushed around the car to wrap Ye Jun in a tight hug before the door even shut behind her.
"You've grown again," she said, voice thick with emotion. "And look at your hair—it's too long. Ari, didn't I say it'd get in his eyes?"
Ye Jun didn't say anything. He just stood there with his face buried in her shoulder, arms clinging tight, letting himself be fussed over without protest.
Behind him, Jin watched with an odd look in his eyes, as if he'd just remembered something he used to have—or wanted.
Ryung hopped off the hood and made his way over, Kwang falling into step beside him. "Let's get this over with," Ryung muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched in something close to amusement.
As the group started gathering bags and greetings and complaints, no one noticed Yu Jun stepping out of the house, standing still at the top of the stairs.
Watching.
Yu Jun lingered at the top of the porch stairs, half in shadow, watching the group by the car. The sun was too bright—it blurred the lines, hid their faces—but he could still tell. He didn't need to see clearly to know.
He was there.
Right in the center of them, surrounded by warmth and noise and belonging. The way the others shifted toward him, naturally and unconsciously, like he was gravity. Like he mattered.
Yu Jun's grip on the strap of his bag tightened, knuckles pale.
Footsteps behind him.
"You ready?" Hyeon-u's voice, quiet but steady.
Yu Jun didn't answer. Yul came to stand beside his brother, brushing imaginary dust from his coat.
"We need to move," he said. "The Alpha won't wait."
Hyeon-u didn't look toward the group. He kept his gaze on the forest, lips pressed in a thin line. Yul did glance over—but only once—before turning back to the path ahead.
Yu Jun nodded silently, falling into step beside them.
---
In the SUV, the air was light with chatter. Jin and Ryung were bickering about snacks. Kwang had his earphones in but wasn't playing anything. Hanjae was trying to make a bet on whether or not Jin would throw up again on the winding roads.
Ari was driving, Hana in the passenger seat, occasionally tossing amused glances at the chaos in the back.
They were all talking about the same thing.
"Your birthday's next week," Hana said, turning halfway to smile at Ye Jun. "Any requests this year? Please don't say peace and quiet."
"Twenty-one," Hana said, looking back at Ye Jun with a fond smile. "You know what that means."
"It means I get to pretend I'm not planning a surprise party," Ari muttered.
"It means we get to pretend we're surprised when Jin ruins it by accident," Kwang added.
Jin, from the back seat, gasped. "First of all, rude. Second, I haven't ruined anything. Yet. But if someone were to give me a hint…"
"No," three voices said in unison.
Ye Jun smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. He turned toward the window, the chatter around him blurring into static.
Twenty-one.
Another year.
Another birthday.
And still… no wolf.
The word for how he felt—hollow.
Not empty. No, he had love, laughter, a family that never let him fall too far.
But inside, there was a space. A space where something was supposed to be. Something primal. Something instinctive. A wolf. A howl. A bond to the moon itself.
He closed his eyes as memory tugged.
Flashback – Age 15
The night he waited under the stars.
The moon had hung heavy, full, expectant. He'd sat outside on the back porch, knees pulled to his chest, waiting for the fire to begin.
The legends said the first shift felt like being torn apart and born again. He welcomed the pain.
But nothing happened.
Not even a spark.
Ari had found him at dawn. She didn't scold, didn't cry. She just held him.
"It's okay," she said. "Some wolves shift at sixteen. Your body just needs more time."
Age 16
Still nothing.
No pain. No shift. No wolf clawing to the surface.
Hana had brought him a crown made of silver lilies. "You're already more than most wolves," she whispered. "Wolf or not, you are ours."
He had smiled.
And cried that night alone.
Age 17
Still human. Still waiting. Still hoping.
Ari lit a lantern and sent it into the sky. "For the wolf who's still on his way."
Now, nearly twenty-one, Ye Jun no longer waited.
He no longer believed.
But Ari and Hana still did. His friends still talked as if something would click into place. As if he just hadn't found the right trigger.
As if believing in him would be enough to bring the wolf out.
But Ye Jun knew better now.
He was different.
Incomplete.
And despite everything—the love, the loyalty, the laughter—it still hurt.
He turned his face toward the window, letting the sunlight mask the shadows in his eyes.
Outside, the forest rushed by, green and endless.
And the pack was waiting.
.