Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air was a sharp blade, but Jihoon had long since befriended the frozen edge. The cold was his old and constant companion, an invisible layer that wrapped around him from the tips of his long black hair to the soles of his feet, protected by rough fur boots. In this Ice Territory, the world was a dense silence and a palette of white, gray, and the dark green of ancient pines.

Jihoon lived in isolation. Human contact had once been limited to a kind old woman who, for a few years, appeared and disappeared like a ghost, leaving behind warm clothes and a few basic lessons. But that had been long ago. Now, the only society he knew was the creatures of the forest.

The Omega was a strange figure amidst the harshness of the landscape. He didn’t know he was an Omega, nor that Alphas and Betas existed. To him, people were just people, and he was simply Jihoonie. He knew he was different: his body was small, slimmer than the larger animals he saw, and during certain moons, he felt a dull ache and a heated-need that made him curl beneath the furs in the darkness. To him, that was simply part of life.

His appearance held an almost ethereal beauty: skin white and immaculate, as if it had stolen its color from the untouched snow, in sharp contrast to his hair, which fell in glossy black cascades down to his waist. His eyes, large and of a deep brown shade, almost hidden beneath bangs he insisted on cutting with sharp stones—often leaving his hair uneven—carried an endless curiosity and a clear innocence, yet also reflected the keen intelligence of someone who must survive alone. Jihoon was naïve, yes, but not foolish; he read nature like an open book. His home was a small, warm cave nestled within a rocky cliff. The scent of burning pine and the faint aroma of rain that Jihoon himself seemed to carry created a comforting refuge.

That morning, the air was exceptionally clear. Jihoon was fishing at the small lake that never completely froze over. Sitting by the edge, he murmured to himself, a tangle of guttural sounds and poorly pronounced words.

— Fat-fish. Come. Eat. — He waved at the water as if he could persuade his meal. His speech was limited. He understood far more than he could speak. The words the old woman had taught him were few, and silence had become his main language.

A sudden sound caught his attention. It was Chester, a chubby and impatient flying squirrel who considered Jihoon his personal servant. Chester landed atop Jihoon’s head, using his hair as a nest.

— Ah, Chester. You. Cold-paws? — Jihoon asked, reaching for the squirrel to place him on his shoulder, where the warmth of his body would heat him.

Chester squeaked—a sound Jihoon interpreted as, “Yes, and you’re taking too long. Bring the food.”

— Calm. Fat-fish. Slow. Patience, Chester. — He sighed dramatically, a comical trait he had developed to deal with boredom.

While he waited, he remembered the only story the old woman had ever told him with true seriousness: the story of the Wild Lotus.

— Lotus... — he murmured, staring at the palm of his pale hand. — White. Black-color.

The legend said the flower was the only thing capable of curing the Ice-Sorrow of the distant Kingdom. The woman had made him promise: Be the Wild Lotus. No one can see you. If they see you, you must turn into a real flower. The promise, absurd to any adult, was a rule of life for Jihoon.

Suddenly, the line went taut. Jihoon pulled it with surprising strength, and a large, silver fish flew through the air, landing on the snow. Chester squeaked, jumping onto the prey to inspect it.

Jihoon picked up the fish, feeling the vibration of its life. He smiled — a gesture of pure contentment. He was a successful hunter.

As he cleaned the fish by the lake’s edge, he noticed a disturbance in the silence. A sound he didn’t recognize.

Thump... thump...

It was a heavy, rhythmic noise, like something large and clumsy moving across the snow.

Jihoon froze. His dark eyes widened, scanning the distant pines. Then he saw them — not a bear, not a deer. They were tall shapes, dark against the whiteness of the forest, moving in a line.

People.

And worse: he could smell them. It wasn’t the scent of rain he himself exuded, nor the damp-earth smell of animals. It was a powerful, sharp scent that pierced the cold air: Pine and Ice. A dominant smell that made the small Omega shrink back — yet, strangely, left him curious and tense.

— Chester. Quiet. — Jihoon’s voice was a rough whisper.

He grabbed his belongings and ran toward the cave. He was fast, agile, moving through the rocks and snow with the grace of a lynx. He slipped inside and sealed the entrance with pine branches and a piece of hide, disguising it perfectly.

Inside, the scent of Pine and Ice grew stronger. Jihoon’s anxiety deepened. What were strong-scented people doing here? They didn’t belong to this place.

He stayed utterly silent, holding his breath. He could hear the noises now — footsteps, the clinking of metal, and low, masculine, authoritative voices.

He heard them stop right outside his cave.

— The Oracle was clear, Your Highness. White with Black Colors. And it blooms where the ice is deepest. — The voice of one of the men, lighter yet deep, sounded frustrated.

— I know what he said, Lieutenant. — The other voice, deeper and commanding, was the one that carried the strong scent of Pine and Ice. — But we’ve searched for miles. There’s nothing but pines and rocks. If this ‘flower’ exists, it’s hiding.

Flower!

Jihoon clutched Chester, who was trembling. They were looking for the Wild Lotus.

He moved toward a crack in the rock — a small hole that allowed a sliver of light through. He peeked out.

There were about ten men. All of them large, wearing furs and armor. The man who spoke — the one with the strongest scent — was the most striking of all. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a serious face and a forehead creased in frustration. He was the strong-scented leader.

— Strong-scented leader... — Jihoon murmured softly, watching the man who seemed to exude both power and exhaustion.

The strong-scented leader kicked at a patch of snow.

— I can’t return to the Kingdom without something to prove we can save the Omegas. I can’t condemn my people to extinction because of a legend I can’t find.

Jihoon didn’t understand the words “Kingdom,” “save,” or “condemn.” But he understood “legend” and “can’t find.”

The man let out a heavy sigh.

— We’ll search farther north. Maybe the flower needs an even harsher frost.

The men began to move away, their heavy footsteps fading gradually.

Jihoon waited. He waited until the sound of footsteps completely vanished and the strong scent of Pine and Ice was carried away by the cold wind. He was cautious, and he knew that predators sometimes pretended to leave. Only when silence returned — pure and complete — did he relax.

Jihoon let out a long, quiet sigh of relief. Chester jumped off his shoulder, squeaking angrily at the interruption.

— Gone. Gone. — Jihoon smiled, a small, victorious smile. He had hidden successfully.

He crawled out of the cave, moving the branches aside and inhaling the cold air with satisfaction.

As he stood up, his eyes caught his reflection in a shining sheet of ice. His pale, almost white skin, and his long black hair, like dark ink.

White. With black color.

He was the Wild Lotus. Not a flower — but Jihoon himself. The flower they were searching for. The thought, to him, was simply amusing. The strong-scented people were looking for a plant, but the plant was actually him. He laughed softly, a pure sound.

— Strong-scented people. Dumb. — he said, his pronunciation clumsy but laced with a subtle humor, worthy of an Omega who slightly overestimated himself. — Looking for flower. And flower... is me.

Jihoon blinked. The strong-scented leader had looked sad.

— Sadness. Hurt. — Jihoon, sensitive to emotions, had caught the melancholy in the man’s voice, even without understanding the words.

He looked in the direction the group had gone, then back at the entrance of his cave. He was the Wild Lotus, and they needed a flower to cure the Ice-Sorrow.

He didn’t know what was right or wrong, but he knew that if he was the flower — he had to go.

With the naïve determination of a child setting off on an epic journey, Jihoon picked up the fish and his fur coat. He looked at Chester, who was busy gnawing on a nut.

— Go. — he said to the squirrel. — Show flower. End Ice-Sadness.

Chapter Text

Jihoon had been moving for some time, the decision made with the absolute simplicity of his isolated mind, carrying the strength of cracking ice: he was the Wild Lotus, they were sad, and they needed the flower. Therefore, Jihoon would go to them.

He wore his thickest fur coat, a leather bag slung over his shoulder where the freshly caught fish lay, and Chester was firmly nestled in the tangle of his black hair.

— Come on, Chester. — Jihoon encouraged, his voice a hoarse whisper against the silence that had settled again. — Find strong-smell-people. Give flower.

Chester squeaked loudly, a sound that, if translated, would be a long and irritated “No!” The squirrel was perfectly content in the warm cave with access to nuts and a submissive Omega. Humans were the adventurers, not squirrels.

Jihoon ignored his friend’s protest. He had noticed the direction of the heavy footsteps, the trail broken in the snow. Following the path was easy. What was difficult was the speed. The strong-smell-people had moved very quickly.

He ran—or rather, trotted. His feet, accustomed to treacherous terrain, found grip where most would slip. He was light and agile, but not built for long distances at an accelerated pace.

Soon, his breathing began to grow heavy, escaping in dense, white clouds. The muscles in his legs, though strong from wilderness life, protested.

— Slow. They… ran-fast? — Jihoon stopped, bending over with his hands on his knees. His eyes, alert, searched for the reason behind that speed.

In the packed snow, beyond the boot prints, there were deep grooves and hoof marks. Large, uniform, and spaced marks.

— Giant-animals. Clop clop — Jihoon managed to articulate.

He had never seen a horse. The lady had told him about them, but seeing the signs of their passage made him swallow hard. The giant-animals were fast. And the strong-smell-people were riding them.

— Chester… Giant-animals run. Jihoonie… slow. — He lamented, feeling the first sting of frustration.

Chester squealed, as if saying, “I told you. Let’s go back home.”

— No. Ice-Sorrow. Must go. — Jihoon shook his head. He could not abandon his self-imposed mission.

He started moving again, but the pace was painfully slow now. The sun rose and began its short, weak descent. The Ice Territory was merciless to the unprepared. The landscape soon opened up, revealing a vast, frozen plateau with no trees for shelter. The wind howled, mocking his efforts, and Jihoon was cold despite the furs, his stomach growling in protest. He had eaten nothing but a handful of berries the night before.

The smell of Pine and Ice, though still present along the trail, was growing faint, blending with the myriad other scents of the forest.

The Omega stopped on a small rise, looking out at the horizon… Nothing. Just the vast white expanse. He was close to giving up, to turning back toward the familiar warmth of his cave.

No… he thought. Lotus… does not give up.

He looked at the leather bag and at the fish.

— Food. Need food. — Jihoon’s practical, survival-minded self took over. He might be tired, but he wasn’t foolish. Trying to keep up with the riders would be useless and dangerous on an empty stomach. He turned to the side and found a small clearing, slightly sheltered by rocks and a cluster of pine trees.

— Here. Fire.

Instinct took over, and soon he was working, ignoring the ache in his muscles.

First, he cleared the snow from a safe area. Then he searched for the thinnest, driest twigs beneath the pine canopy, away from the dampness. The lady had taught Jihoon how to make fire—a vital skill for survival. He took from his bag a small piece of flint and a rusty metal shard. He rubbed them together, concentrating.

Spark. Sparks.

The sound of click, click, click filled the silence until, finally, a spark leapt and caught the dry straw. Jihoon blew gently, with the care of a mother rocking a baby. Smoke rose, thin and fragrant, followed by a warm yellow flame. The heat was immediate, and Jihoon let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

He took the fish and, with a sharp bone knife, cleaned it quickly. He skewered the fish on a branch and placed it over the flames. The aroma of grilled fish filled the cold air.

Chester climbed down from Jihoon’s hair to his shoulder, sniffing eagerly.

— Ah, no. Yours? No. — Jihoon smiled, pulling a handful of dried berries from one of his coat pockets. — You. Berries. My. Fat-fish.

The Omega knew how to cook and how to eat. He devoured the warm fish in seconds, eyes closed in pleasure. Food was energy. Energy was survival.

After finishing, he sat by the fire, feeling the warmth penetrate his furs. He was exhausted, but now restored. He looked at the horizon, where the sky was beginning to turn orange and purple. It was getting late. They would be far ahead by now.

What to do? Jihoon’s mind began to work.

Running… bad. Can’t catch them. But the smell… still here.

He lifted his nose to the air. The winds carried the scent of Pine and Ice, faint but perceptible to his sensitive nose. Not strong enough to track them easily in the dark.

Jihoon noticed something else. There were other scents—animal scents.

He looked around the clearing. Marks in the snow. Not from boots, but from hooves. The giant-animals had stopped here too.

Jihoon, with the agility of a born detective, began inspecting the area. He found a small depression in the snow, where it seemed one of the giant-animals had rested. And near it, he found something small and shiny. It was a silver coin, with an intricate design of a crown and a snowflake.

Jihoon picked up the coin, admiring its shine. He had never seen a coin before. It was a beautiful-shiny thing.

— Chester! Shine. — he showed the object to the squirrel.

Chester sniffed the coin and then tried to steal it, thinking it was some kind of silver nut.

— No! Mine. — Jihoon hid the coin. It was his. A treasure.

The coin was proof that they had been there, so Jihoon carefully put out the fire, burying the embers in the snow. He didn’t want to leave any traces for predators. Night was falling, and the cold returned with doubled intensity. The Omega knew he couldn’t travel in the dark.

— Sleep. — he murmured, moving toward the cluster of pine trees.

He dug a shallow hole in the snow and lay down, covering himself with his fur coat and loose snow, a technique he used to create thermal insulation. Chester nestled against his neck, providing an extra dose of warmth.

As darkness swallowed the clearing, Jihoon, the Wild Lotus, held the small silver coin close.

— Pine-and-Ice… near. — He promised himself, feeling his determination renewed.

Chapter Text

Jihoon woke with the first touch of light, his pale skin almost glowing beneath the thin layer of snow that covered him. The morning cold was sharp, but the small nest he had made beneath the pine had worked. He sat up, stretching his delicate arms, feeling the soft crack of his bones. Chester squeaked in protest and burrowed deeper into his neck.

— Good morning, Chester. Sun. — Jihoon murmured, his voice still hoarse with sleep.

He stepped out of his improvised shelter and looked around the clearing. The snow, untouched since the night’s fall, was a white and fresh sheet. The scent of his own body was the only warm thing in the freezing air.

Jihoon’s instinct drove him to sniff. He turned toward the direction the Strong-Scent-Leader had gone. He tried, with all his strength, to find the trail of Pine and Ice.

He sniffed again. And again.

The scent was almost gone. The night wind had done its job, scattering the pheromones and dust of the trail. What remained was an olfactory memory as faint as the morning mist.

The Omega felt a sharp, familiar pang of sadness. It was the same feeling that struck him when the weather grew too ugly for fishing, or when Chester disappeared for days. A pain in his chest, a hollow sensation. He didn’t understand the concept of “disappointment,” only the raw emotion that something good had vanished.

— No. The smell... is gone. — His voice was a low lament.

He walked to where the marks of the giant-beasts’ hooves should have been, but the night’s snow had smoothed most of the grooves. The trail had vanished.

— They’re gone. Far. — Jihoon concluded, with the practical intelligence of someone who doesn’t delude himself about reality.

He knelt and looked at Chester, who stared back from his shoulder with his beady black eyes.

— Chester. What do? Strong-Scent-Leader... gone. Flower... not given. — The question hung in the air.

Chester squeaked. Not a comforting sound, but a short, dry one, accompanied by a tilt of the head that Jihoon translated perfectly: You’re the one who wanted to come. Now deal with it.

Jihoon huffed — a comic, childlike sound that perfectly expressed his frustration.

— Bad. You. No help.

He stood. The decision was obvious. He was tired, hungry, and the trail was gone. The best thing to do was return to familiar comfort. He hadn’t gone far from his cave; if he walked quickly, he’d be back before the sun began its swift descent.

— Go back. We have to go back. Home. — Jihoon began to walk, retracing the path he had made through the snow.

As he walked, Jihoon spoke to Chester — his way of processing the world.

— Chester. Do you think the flower... should have waited? The Strong-Scent-Leader was in a hurry.

The squirrel replied with a squeak that seemed to mock the human notion of haste.

— I know! Running fast with giant-beasts. Stupid. — Jihoon shook his head, feeling superior for having avoided such haste.

He walked for hours, his mind settling into the calm rhythm of movement. The fish from yesterday had given him energy, and he chewed on a root he had gathered before sleeping. The sun was at its peak when he began to recognize the landscape — the cluster of rocks, the massive pine that marked the way to the lake that never froze.

Close. Almost home.

But something was wrong.

The scent.

It wasn’t his own soft-rain smell. It wasn’t the faint Pine and Ice scent that the Strong-Scent-Leader had left behind.

They were two new, strong scents — one of Earth and Fire, the other of Snow and Metal. People’s smells. Strong ones.

Jihoon stopped abruptly. His heart pounded like a drum.

Then, he saw them.

At the entrance of his cave, two giant-beasts were tied to a pine. They were larger and more magnificent than he had imagined. Horses. The cave’s entrance was unblocked; the pine branches he used to disguise the hole had been tossed aside. His home was exposed. A wave of excitement hit him. People! They came back! They were the ones who needed the flower!

He took a step forward, ready to run and present himself, but then the woman’s voice echoed in his mind — cold and stern:

“Do not trust everyone. Some are not good people. Some only want to take the flower for themselves. Hide.”

Jihoon’s step froze midair. His naivety was great, but his instinct for survival was greater still. He didn’t know what it meant to be good or bad, but the woman had sounded very serious.

He moved behind a large pine, his movements light and silent — the agility of a frightened creature. He crawled just far enough to peek at the cave’s entrance.

He focused on the scents. None of them were Pine and Ice — the Strong-Scent-Leader’s mark. They were different, yet familiar. He recognized them. The scents from the group yesterday. Strong-Scent-Leader’s helpers.

He peeked.

Inside the cave, near his barely lit fire, stood two men. Both were large and muscular, wearing the same thick furs and armor as the Strong-Scent-Leader. One, with the scent of Earth and Fire, was crouched down, inspecting the spot where Jihoon kept his supplies. The other, the scent of Snow and Metal, stood, examining the rocks.

They were searching. Searching for the flower.

Jihoon felt fear twist together with indignation. Invaders! My home!

The Omega didn’t think — anger at the intrusion overwhelmed his hesitation.

He stood abruptly and stepped forward from behind the pine. His wide eyes locked on the two intruders.

— Hey! — The word came out loud and drawn, heavy with disapproval. — No!

The two soldiers, who had been focused on their search, froze. They turned abruptly, hands instinctively reaching for their swords.

What they saw made them stop mid-motion.

There stood a boy. Or perhaps a young man. Tiny, pale, with long black hair that made him look like a creature out of legend. He wore roughly stitched furs and crude boots. He was of an uncommon beauty — and, more importantly, he exuded a gentle scent of Rain and fresh snow, that somehow managed to have a sweetness.

An Omega…

The two soldiers — Lieutenant Hansol and Soldier Mingyu — widened their eyes in shock. The astonishment was absolute. Lieutenant Hansol, who had stayed behind with Mingyu to search more thoroughly before giving up and returning to the capital, couldn’t believe it. Omegas didn’t survive in these temperatures. That was the very reason for the curse!

Jihoon, standing in the snow with his little squirrel perched on his shoulder and the silver crown coin still clutched in his hand, frowned at them.

— What... want? — Jihoon asked, the words struggling to leave his mouth, but the meaning was unmistakable: Go away.

Chapter Text

The silence was as dense as ice. Jihoon, the small feral Omega, stood at the entrance of his home, dark eyes fixed on the two giant Alphas. His hand was still gripping the silver coin.

— What… do you want? — Jihoon’s question came out again, once more with difficulty in pronunciation, yet unmistakable in intent.

Hansol and Mingyu remained motionless, perplexity carved across their faces. The Omega’s presence was a blow to the head, a biological contradiction in a world of curses and superstitions.

— By Mother Earth… — Hansol murmured, unable to tear his gaze from Jihoon’s black hair and pale skin. — He really is…

Mingyu finished, his voice a rough whisper: — An Omega. I can feel it. The scent’s faint, but it’s… pure rain.

They were in territory where Omegas were supposed to die. And yet this one wasn’t just alive — he seemed to have thrived.

Mingyu, the taller and more impulsive of the two, took a step forward, curiosity overpowering protocol. He wanted to see up close, confirm it was real, but the moment Mingyu’s foot touched the snow, Jihoon reacted.

A low, guttural sound escaped the Omega’s throat. It wasn’t a scream, but a pure, terrifying growl — utterly unexpected coming from such a small and delicate creature. It was the instinctive reaction of a wild animal defending its nest.

The growl froze Mingyu mid-step.

Hansol let out a slow but audible breath.

— By the Moon and Stars, I didn’t know Omegas could growl… — Hansol sounded more fascinated than frightened.

Mingyu stepped back, hands raised in peace.

— Okay. Okay. Sorry.

Jihoon, sensing the growl had worked, straightened his posture. He repeated the question, in a more demanding tone.

— Here… why? You.

The Alphas took a moment to process the disordered speech. The way the Omega articulated words was so strange it felt like a riddle.

Hansol, being the more intellectual, managed to decipher the intent.

— Ah, he wants to know why we’re here. — Hansol gestured to himself and Mingyu. He tried to simplify as much as possible. — We came… to see. Look. What is here.

— Yes. Curiosity. — Mingyu added, using equally simple words.

Hansol bowed slightly, trying to show good intentions.

— My name is Hansol. — He pointed to himself. — And this is my… traveling companion. Mingyu.

Mingyu looked at Hansol with a mix of boredom and offense. Traveling companion? He was the Prince’s loyal subordinate, one of the greatest warriors in the Kingdom, and Hansol introduced him as a road buddy?

Hansol merely rolled his eyes at his friend’s reaction, focused on the Omega.

Jihoon watched the exchange of looks and the complex words that made no sense. He understood the naming gestures.

He pointed to his own chest.

— Jihoon. — The word came out clean and clear.

Then he pointed to the cave entrance, then outside, and finally to the two Alphas. His eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— My house. Out! Stinky!

Silence returned. This time, shocked.

Mingyu blinked. — Did he… did he just call us smelly?

Hansol suppressed a smile, though the surprise lingered.

— Well… I think so. An alpha’s scent must be too strong for him. But let’s not contradict an Omega, you know how they are.

— Actually, I don’t. — Mingyu replied dryly. — I’ve never been anywhere near one. Remember, they die in our Kingdom.

— Exactly! — Hansol whispered, shaking his head impatiently. — If you’d paid attention in the Kingdom’s biology classes… they’re sensitive! And usually temperamental and… also territorial, apparently.

Jihoon wasn’t waiting for the conversation to unfold. He kept watching them, impatience rising. His lips parted, and he let out a sharp, irritated hiss, like an annoyed cat. He pointed repeatedly to the outside of the cave, pale fingers trembling.

— Out! Now!

The two Alphas had no choice but to surrender to the unexpected authority of the small Omega. Instinct urged them to soothe the creature who was, after all, the most precious being in the Kingdom.

Hansol shrugged at Mingyu.

— Alright. Tactical retreat.

They backed away slowly, heavy steps crunching in the snow, keeping their eyes on Jihoon, who continued growling and hissing until they were out of his safety perimeter.

When the Alphas reached the horses, Hansol looked at Mingyu, urgency replacing his earlier shock.

— We need to inform His Highness, urgently.

— I know. — Mingyu mounted his horse, glancing back at the Omega’s cave, now hidden behind a few branches Jihoon was rearranging. — We can’t lose this Omega.

— Not at all. — Hansol mounted as well, hand tightening on the reins.

They turned and galloped back north, toward where the Prince was fruitlessly searching for a flower that resembled the person his soldiers had just offended. The time for searching was over. They had to bring the Prince back before the Omega — the salvation of their Kingdom — decided to flee once more into the frozen desert.

The camp was a spectacle of order and discipline, even in the midst of the cold desolation. Around ten men — strong Alphas and a few sturdy Betas — had set up a temporary post in an area slightly more sheltered from the wind. Seungcheol, the Crown Prince, was hunched over a rough map, frustration evident on his noble features. At his side stood Wonwoo, his Beta advisor and right hand, a calm and observant figure.

Suddenly, the order shattered.

Two silhouettes covered in snow appeared on the horizon, mounted on horses that seemed to be galloping at a life-or-death pace. It was Hansol and Mingyu.

They dismounted with clumsy haste, nearly falling into the snow. Mingyu, the quicker of the two, was breathless, his face red and sweaty from the effort.

Seungcheol lifted his head, confused by the lack of composure from his soldiers. He didn’t have time to ask anything.

— Your Highness! Your Highness, we… we found it! — Mingyu panted, words stumbling. — We found… an Omega!

The Prince blinked slowly, processing the information. His lips curved into a forced smile, his patience worn thin by the fruitless search.

— Listen, Mingyu. I know you love your terrible jokes and that the weather affects your mood. But this is not the right moment, please. We’re days away from home, with no sign of any flower and limited supplies. I’m not in the mood for jokes.

— But… Your Highness, it’s not a joke! — Mingyu insisted, almost crying from exhaustion and desperation to be believed. The scent of his nervousness was palpable. Before Seungcheol could refute him, Hansol — who had recovered a bit more breath — intervened with his usual sobriety.

— Your Highness, Mingyu is telling the truth. We really found an Omega. A living one. I… I don’t know how he managed to survive here. Honestly, it’s a biological anomaly, but he’s there.

Seungcheol was stunned. Hansol’s firmness was hard to ignore. Hansol was not one to joke. The Prince’s face grew pale beneath his winter furs.

— Where? Where did you see him?

— Not far from here. In fact, you must have passed by when you came this way. — Hansol gestured vaguely to the south. — Maybe half a day’s travel. If we leave now, we reach the… the cave where he is before sunset!

Wonwoo, who had been silently observing, finally broke his stillness. His voice was low, filled with a professional incredulity.

— Cave? He lives in a cave?

The word “Omega” was a ghostly echo in the Kingdom. Its mere mention was a reminder of the curse. The fact that one had been found — feral, living in a cave in the Ice Territory — was worthy of an insane fairy tale.

Seungcheol needed no further convincing. The possibility, however remote, of having found an Omega — a potential key to his people’s survival — ignited a spark of hope he had not felt in years.

He moved quickly, his leader’s posture returning with explosive force. He shouted orders that echoed throughout the camp.

— Tear down the camp! Quickly! Repack the supplies. Leave only what’s necessary for the journey. Prepare to leave in five minutes! Ready our horses!

He darted through the camp, issuing orders and inspecting his men’s movements, the scent of Pine and Snow now laden with urgency. The Prince was in hunting mode.

Wonwoo stayed beside Hansol, processing.

— Answer my question, Lieutenant. He’s living in a cave? He was alone?

— Yes, Your Excellency. A cave, alone — Hansol rubbed the back of his neck, still nervous. — And… he does not speak our language well. He says a few words. “House. Out. Stinky.” We understood the basics, but most of it is… sounds. He seems harmless.

Wonwoo sighed, his expression exhausted. — Unbelievable.

Mingyu, who had returned to grab his horse’s reins, jumped in again, an idea born in the cave now blooming in his mind.

— Wonwoo, what if the flower we’re looking for is actually him? — Mingyu paused, gesturing dramatically. — You know how those oracles love riddles. The Oracle only said that the cure blooms black and white in the deepest snow.

Hansol nodded, already mounted. — Exactly. The Omega… he has white skin and long black hair. He was there, where the ice is coldest. He’s practically a living painting, Wonwoo. The Wild Lotus is him.

Wonwoo closed his eyes for a moment, the idea as absurd as it was perfectly logical, given the nature of the prophecy. The flower was a human being.

— Well. — Wonwoo sighed, opening his eyes. His face was grave. — If that’s the case, we’ll have our work cut out for us… A feral Omega…

The Kingdom stood on the brink of a radical shift. Salvation was not a withered plant, but an Omega with the air of a wild deity. The expedition, once a search mission, had turned into a treasure hunt — and the treasure was priceless and temperamentally questionable.

Seungcheol reappeared, urging them on.

— Let’s go! We have no time to lose. Hansol, you lead. Mingyu, take the rear. Wonwoo, you ride with me.

The Alphas and the Beta set off, leaving behind the trail of their haste. The Crown was on its way to the Wild Lotus.

Chapter Text

The sun had already withdrawn, and twilight stained the sky in deep indigo hues as the small group approached their destination. The faint moonlight reflected on the snow, illuminating the silhouette of the rock formation where Jihoon’s cave nestled.

Hansol, who led the way, stopped abruptly several meters away, raising a hand to halt the others.

— Your Highness. — Hansol whispered, the scent of Earth and Fire diminishing into caution. — From what I experienced today… if he sees us, or smells so many people approaching, he’ll run. He’s not… well, civilized. It’s better if only the four of us go. The rest should stay behind and watch from a distance.

Seungcheol, whose scent carried anticipation and determination, sighed heavily but nodded. Hansol’s reasoning was undeniable. They were dealing with an Omega who behaved like a territorial animal, and they couldn’t risk startling him.

The four proceeded on foot, moving with the silence and stealth learned through long years of travel. The ice cracked softly beneath their boots, but they were masters at avoiding unnecessary noise. At the cave entrance, Hansol made a slow, dramatic gesture for silence, and he and Mingyu began moving the pine branches Jihoon had arranged to conceal his home. The movement was slow and deliberate, minimizing sound.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo stood just behind them, watching the deepening darkness of the opening.

Inside, Jihoon was lying on his improvised nest of furs. He wasn’t asleep. He was in the middle of a silent, one-sided argument.

— Chester! Bad! — Jihoon whispered, his dark eyes narrowed at the squirrel nestled on his shoulder. — The fish. Mine. You… stole.

Chester squeaked in protest, as if defending his inherent right to any food the Omega possessed.

Jihoon didn’t notice the silent footsteps, and the fact that the men — used to controlling their pheromones in hunts or dangerous situations — had learned to “hold” their scents helped maintain the surprise. Hansol and Mingyu entered first, stopping just past the entrance. Wonwoo and Seungcheol, the last to enter, stayed back for their eyes to adjust to the dim light.

There they stood,frozen in the cold, smoky air of the cave.

The sight before them was bizarrely beautiful. Jihoon lay there, the faint light of dying embers illuminating the profile of his pale face and the long river of black hair. He was speaking, gesturing gently with delicate hands, his shoulder bouncing as he argued with the squirrel.

A soft scent, like spring rain, emanated from the Omega. It was the scent of life, of fertility, of healing.

Seungcheol stood serious and paralyzed. He was not only a Prince; he was an Alpha, and the Omega’s scent was like a balm to his weary soul. The sight of the angelic creature, feral and talking to a squirrel, stole his breath.

Hansol and Mingyu simply stared, fascinated. Wonwoo, however, rubbed his temples. The scent, though soft, already announced the headache that would soon follow.

The stillness shattered when Jihoon, irritated by Chester’s protest, began to rise from his nest.

He turned—

And saw the four motionless figures.

A sound of pure surprise and contained fear escaped his lips. His eyes widened, dark circles of alarm. He only had a partial view of the group: Hansol on his left, Mingyu on his right, and Wonwoo in the center. Seungcheol was partially hidden behind them.

Fear struck the Omega. His naïveté slipped away; the old woman’s warning echoed in his mind. Not everyone is good.

Jihoon began retreating to the back of the cave, curling against the cold rock. His scent shifted. Sharp, bitter notes of panic sliced through the air.

The first three grew tense—they knew a panicked Omega was unpredictable, and they looked to the Prince for orders.

Seungcheol, watching the anguish on the smaller man’s face, felt his chest tighten. He was no predator.

He stepped forward, emerging from the shadow, taking the lead. The scent of Pine and Snow softened, attempting to soothe.

The moment Seungcheol moved, Jihoon saw him clearly. The Strong-Scent-Leader. The man who had left the shiny coin behind.

Jihoon’s fear evaporated in a burst of relief and joy.

— Ah!! — Jihoon exclaimed, his voice loud and rough.

He ran forward, fear forgotten, heading straight for the tallest Alpha.

— I flower! Not sad! I go with you!

Seungcheol froze. The face that had been severe during the search was now completely confused. All his courage and planning dissolved before the Omega’s boldness and broken speech. The small body stopped right in front of him, looking up with bright dark eyes.

Mingyu broke the silence with a muffled laugh.

— Oh, he likes Your Highness. One less problem with the temperament, maybe.

Hansol agreed with a low grunt.

Wonwoo sighed, relief plain on his tired face. — Well, one problem less. At least the chasing part is over.

Seungcheol remained stiff, confusion blending with the overwhelming Omega scent so close. He tried to collect himself.

— Are you… all right? Are you hurt? — The question came out disjointed.

Jihoon didn’t understand the words, but he felt the concern in the scent of Pine and Snow.

He stepped even closer. He reached for the pile of furs, grabbing each one and stuffing them into his bag, then picked up the squirrel — which squeaked in outrage — and placed it atop his head like a hat.

Then he grabbed Seungcheol’s large, strong hand with his own small, cold ones.

— Not sad. Flower here! — Jihoon tugged on the Prince with the unexpected strength of a lynx. — Come! Not sad.

He was determined. He was the cure, and he would fix the Ice-Sadness. And Seungcheol, the mighty Prince, was pulled like a rag doll, dragged out of the cave by the little Wild Lotus who could barely speak—

But who was absolutely certain of his mission.

Jihoon left the cave with the determination of a divine messenger. He held the Crown Prince’s hand firmly in his own, leading the way out with the hurried stride of someone who had no time to waste. The Ice-Sadness would be cured, and he was the flower!

Seungcheol, still stunned and slightly off balance from the strength of the small Omega, was forced to follow, while Hansol, Mingyu, and Wonwoo came behind them, barely containing their shock and relief.

The Omega, however, stopped abruptly.

The group had stepped out from the shadow of the rocks, and the view opened to Seungcheol’s small army, where the rest of the soldiers waited. There were the various giant-beasts — the horses — and the many men mounted upon them. There were too many people, too many strong scents, too many movements. Jihoon’s rain-scent once again gained notes of fear and suspicion. His eyes widened, and he jumped back, releasing Seungcheol’s hand.

In an instinctive move, Jihoon placed himself in front of the taller Alpha, as if trying to protect him from the many-men. He hid the pelts and the stressed squirrel inside his bag, turning himself into a small, defensive shield.

Seungcheol was completely lost. His mind spun: he was being defended from his own army by a wild Omega who barely spoke. And Jihoon soon began emitting a series of sounds and disconnected words, all filled with urgency.

— No! No! Hide! Run!

The word “Run!” snapped Seungcheol out of his stupor. In a quick motion, he tightened his grip on Jihoon’s hand, pulling him closer to his body.

— No! Calm. They aren’t bad people. — Seungcheol said, his deep voice soft, trying to use the simplest words he knew. — They’re soldiers.

The Omega looked at the men, then at Seungcheol, clearly not understanding what a “soldier” was. He continued glaring at the group, his posture tense. It was Hansol who stepped in, with the sensitivity of someone who had spent more time — even if only a little — with the Omega.

— Jihoon, they’re friends! They’re our friends! — Hansol gestured toward the group, and Jihoon turned to Seungcheol. He needed confirmation from the Strong-scent-Leader.

Hansol, taking advantage of the opening, pointed to the Prince.

— This… this is Seungcheol.

Jihoon looked at the Alpha he had been trying to shield, and repeated the name, shortening it.

— Cheol?

Mingyu couldn’t hold it. A loud laugh burst out of him, and Hansol followed with a muffled snort. Even Wonwoo, usually stoic, had a small smile tugging at his lips, though he quickly hid it under the severe look he received from Seungcheol.

Jihoon, sensitive to emotions, saw the amusement and the reprimand in the exchange. He looked at Seungcheol with a sad expression.

— Not Cheol? Cheol?

Seungcheol felt his heart twist at the Omega’s sudden sadness. He could not disappoint the one creature who had agreed to be the salvation of his kingdom. He ignored his own soldiers and nodded, defeated.

— Yes. Cheol. I am Cheol.

Jihoon’s face lit up. He nodded happily at the confirmation and gave a light slap to the Prince’s chest. Crisis solved.

— Okay! Friends!

The Omega began walking again toward the soldiers. He took Chester out of the bag and placed him on his shoulder once more, a gesture of trust.

— Chester! Friend Jihoon!

Hansol and Mingyu smiled and gave a small bow, murmuring a “Hello, Chester” to the flying-squirrel, who squeaked irritably at being disturbed.

Wonwoo stepped ahead, his expression returning to seriousness, and warned the soldiers standing guard. His voice was low and cold.

— Attention, soldiers! Whatever you see today, if you open your mouths about it in the capital, the next day you’ll find them full of ants. Understood?

The soldiers, who were already processing the small, magical-looking figure beside their Prince, nodded in unison. The fear of Wonwoo’s wrath was stronger than any curiosity.

Soon, Seungcheol, Jihoon, Mingyu, and Hansol were in the middle of the group. Seungcheol approached his stallion, a large and powerful horse. Hansol, Mingyu, and Wonwoo were already mounted. It was at that moment they noticed the obvious: there was no horse for the Omega.

— I can take him with me, Your Highness! — Mingyu offered, extending a hand.

Seungcheol refused quickly, almost in panic. The protective instinct was overwhelming.

— No. I’ll take him.

With a haste uncharacteristic of his usually measured temperament, Seungcheol pulled Jihoon toward his horse.

— I’ll lift you. Okay? — He gestured, indicating the action.

Jihoon didn’t understand, looking up at the high saddle.

Seungcheol, patient, mimed the act of mounting a horse, bending his arm.

— Like this. See?

Jihoon nodded, understanding. He tried, but the stallion was far too big. He only managed to lift his knee before slipping down. Seungcheol had to help him, holding him by the waist and lifting the Omega’s light body into the saddle.

The saddle was wide and cold; Seungcheol mounted behind him at once, his large, strong body enveloping the small Omega. The Prince smelled of Pine and Snow — an aroma now incredibly near, warm, protective. The intimate contact made Jihoon’s heart race, but strangely, fear did not come. Only warmth and a feeling of safety. The Omega instinctively leaned back against the Alpha’s chest.

— Let’s go. — Seungcheol said, and the group set off, leaving the Ice Territory behind.

Seungcheol, with the small, precious body of the man resting against his chest, was still incredulous that the Omega — the salvation of his Kingdom — had come with such ease and eagerness. But as he looked up at the dark, starry sky, he thanked the heavens. Whatever the Wild Lotus was, he was the hope of a tomorrow for his people.

And now, he held him in his arms.

Chapter Text

Five hours had passed since they had left the Omega’s rocky territory. The night was cold and silent, broken only by the rhythmic sound of horse hooves against the compacted snow. The Prince’s escort advanced at a steady pace, and sleep had finally claimed its due. Jihoon was fast asleep in Seungcheol’s arms.

The Prince had noticed how the Omega fought against exhaustion. From the moment they left the cave, Jihoon had been alert, his dark, wide eyes scanning every shadow, every tree, every man. The vastness of the outside world was a spectacle he didn’t want to miss. Even Chester, the squirrel, sat still on the Omega’s shoulder, his bead-like eyes fixed on the horizon, sharing in the wonder. But the road was long, and the small body, accustomed to a slow rhythm of life, could not hold out. Fatigue overtook him with the swiftness of a sudden nap.

Now, the Omega was nestled against Seungcheol’s chest, his small body fitting perfectly into the curve of the Prince’s arms. Jihoon’s breath was soft and warm against the fur-lined coat. The scent of fresh rain, now freed by peaceful sleep, was a fragrance that worked like a sedative, enveloping Seungcheol in a calm haze. The Prince had slowed his stallion’s trot so as not to disturb the Omega’s rest, and for that reason, he rode at the back of the escort. Wonwoo led, and the silhouettes of Hansol and Mingyu talked farther ahead, maintaining their watch.

Seungcheol was in no hurry. He felt numb, floating in a reality that seemed unreal. His mind, always strategic and tense beneath the weight of his future, was now singularly focused on the small being in his arms. He felt the squirrel shift slightly, and saw Chester nestle closer to Jihoon’s neck, using the Omega’s warmth to sleep. Seungcheol looked toward the darkness, and the cold, sharp memory of his childhood returned.

He had been only nine years old. The Kingdom was in despair over the scarcity of Omegas, a problem that had dragged on for generations, attributed to the Ice Curse. A humble couple had conceived an Omega, a rare miracle that the King and Queen had welcomed with desperation. His mother had prepared a chamber in the castle, filled with fireplaces and furs, to keep the baby warm. But the cold seemed to affect Omegas in ways Alphas and Betas could not understand. The Omega infant had not lasted three weeks. The image of the tiny coffin, surrounded by relentless snow, remained lodged in Seungcheol’s mind to this day. That was why he ignored the skeptics and sought out the Oracle, who appeared only once every thirty years.

The sentence he had received echoed in his mind, both ironic and powerful: “The cure blooms black and white in the deepest snow.”

They had spent months concentrating their efforts on the search for a mythical flower. But there it was — life, the flower, which had bloomed in the form of an Omega. An Omega who had not only survived in the depths of the snow, but lived independently.

What to do now? The Prince had absolutely no idea how to proceed.

He looked at Jihoon’s head, resting peacefully on his shoulder. He was an Omega, yes—but also a man, small and fragile, who had clung to him with such innocent trust.

Could Jihoon’s mere presence break the curse? Or would they need the Omega to reproduce?

The thought made Seungcheol’s body freeze, even with the Omega’s warmth against him.

No!

He tightened his hold on the smaller body without realizing it. The man was so small and harmless. He belonged to nature, not to the cold halls and desperate plots of the Kingdom. If the only way to save the Kingdom was to force the little man in his arms to suffer, to have heirs against his will, Seungcheol wasn’t sure he could bear the weight of it.

He knew his father, the King. The Curse was a deep wound, and the monarch would spare no effort to “save” the Kingdom. Locking the Omega away and using him as an incubator wouldn’t be a problem—it would be the quickest and most obvious solution to the Council.

Silent panic struck Seungcheol.

—I can’t let him see Jihoon. I can’t.— He whispered to the cold air, his voice hoarse and resolved.

He needed time. Until Seungcheol discovered the true reason why Jihoon’s presence broke the curse, or the magical way to reverse the terror of the cold, no one could know. He couldn’t risk his own father or the Council making a cruel and irreversible decision. The Omega in his arms was not a war artifact or a breeding animal. He was a man. And now, he was the Prince’s silent responsibility. Seungcheol’s scent of Pine and Snow intensified, carrying certainty and protection. The Kingdom’s future could wait. Jihoon’s safety was the priority.

He looked to the figure ahead. There would have to be a plan. He would have to hide the Wild Lotus, even within his own castle, until he knew how to proceed. The Crown now carried not only the weight of the Kingdom, but also the fragility of its salvation—and the Omega slept deeply, unaware of the political and moral storm his innocent presence was about to unleash.

In the middle of the frozen night, Seungcheol made the decision to stop. He could feel the heavy exhaustion settling over his soldiers; the silhouettes of mounted men looked more slumped, and the horses trotted with less vigor. Haste was the enemy of caution, and he could not risk Jihoon’s safety on a grueling journey.

He gave the signal to halt.

— Quick camp! — His authoritative voice split the night’s silence. — Two hours for rest and food. At the first ray of sunlight, we ride nonstop to the Kingdom.

The soldiers moved with practiced efficiency. Horses were tied, a communal fire lit, and rations distributed.

Seungcheol guided his horse toward Wonwoo, who had already dismounted. Jihoon remained deeply asleep, his head resting softly on the Prince’s shoulder. Wonwoo glanced at the squirrel curled up in the Omega’s fur-lined coat.

— Oh, he really does have a bodyguard, doesn’t he? — the Beta remarked, mild amusement coloring his voice.

Seungcheol let out a nasal sound—a brief huff of amusement, the closest he could get to a laugh at that moment.

— Take him, — Seungcheol said, his voice low. — Bring him to my tent. Carefully. 

Wonwoo nodded. He reached for the light body, which did not stir even with the movement. The Beta held the Omega in his arms, a burden surprisingly delicate. As Seungcheol dismounted his stallion, Wonwoo, holding the Omega, asked:

— And where will Your Highness sleep, then? Your tent is made for only one person.

Seungcheol didn’t answer. He simply stepped ahead of Wonwoo and guided him toward the tent already assembled by one of the soldiers.

— Take him inside. Go rest, Wonwoo. Tomorrow’s journey will be long, and I need you alert.

Wonwoo nodded and disappeared into the tent. Seconds later, he stepped back out and headed toward his own, worry flickering in his eyes. Seungcheol entered the spartan tent. He was a practical man, not given to unnecessary luxury, and his tent was small and functional.

Inside, Jihoon lay on Seungcheol’s thin travel sheets. The Prince knelt and gently adjusted the slender pillow beneath the Omega’s head. He took some of the thicker cloths he had and draped them over Jihoon’s body. It was a moment like this that made him curse his own practicality. Seeing the Omega—the Wild Lotus—resting in such modest comfort made Seungcheol regret not having used his status as Prince to demand a larger, softer tent. He had been raised for resilience, not delicacy, unlike his younger brothers. But that small man in his bed deserved more.

He checked that the Omega was still sleeping deeply and that his loyal companion, Chester, was comfortably settled, curled against the Omega’s chest and rising gently with each calm breath.

Then Seungcheol stood. He could not sleep—not with the weight of responsibility and the torrent of thoughts in his mind. He stepped outside the tent and sat on a fallen log near the entrance, his back resting against a nearby tree. He considered the time. Two hours. Would it be enough? If needed, he could ask Hansol or Wonwoo to take over watch and keep an eye on the Omega if he felt unwell.

But as he sat there, the physical and mental exhaustion of days of searching and the tension of their encounter slowly began to dissolve.

The scent. Jihoon’s aroma drifted toward him in soft waves—always wavering between cold rain and spring rain, subtle and fresh. Whichever it was, it was delicious, comforting, the most soothing fragrance Seungcheol had ever breathed, a scent that promised cleansing and a new beginning.

The Crown Prince closed his eyes, Jihoon’s Rain scent wrapping around him like a blanket. He allowed himself to be enveloped. For a brief moment, the weight of the crown and the threat of the curse vanished. Seungcheol would not sleep, but he would rest. He stood guard.

The Wild Lotus—his hope—was safe, only a few meters away, and his perfume was the finest vigil Seungcheol could have.

Chapter Text

The two hours of rest had stretched into three. Seungcheol, seated in his silent vigil, had postponed waking his men the moment he heard a satisfied huff and the shift in Jihoon’s breathing pattern inside the tent. The Omega still seemed to be in a deep, restorative sleep, and the Prince did not have the heart to interrupt. The health of the Wild Lotus was more important than an hour of travel.

At the first sign of sunlight, however, he woke everyone. The quiet haste returned. Jihoon awoke disoriented, but not frightened. The strong scent of Seungcheol’s Pine and Snow was all over the tent, and the Omega felt safe. He stepped out of the tent, sleepy and with Chester nestled on his shoulder, greeted by the organized chaos of the camp.

Before mounting, Jihoon fixed his wide eyes on Seungcheol’s stallion, which was being readied by Mingyu.

— Giant-animal, Cheol? — Jihoon asked, pointing at the creature.

Seungcheol sighed, a sound of comedic resignation. It took him a moment to connect the words.

— The… the giant-animal?

Mingyu, who was passing by, noticed the confusion.

— Your Highness, I think he’s asking the horse’s name.

Hansol, who was finishing saddling his own horse, smiled and approached. He was the group’s unofficial translator.

— Jihoon. — Hansol gestured toward the horse. — Not giant-animal. It’s a horse.

— Horse… — Jihoon repeated, the word strange and new in his tongue.

— Yes. Horse. — Hansol nodded.

From then on, while Seungcheol helped him mount the saddle and settled behind him, Jihoon would not stop repeating the word, almost like an incantation, whenever he looked at the creature beneath them.

— Horse. Very big. Horse. — He shook his head, black hair swaying, as if cataloging the new information in his mind. Seungcheol sighed, the sound soft and without irritation. Jihoon’s innocence was exhausting, but charming.

They had been on the road for a few hours, and the sun was already high. Judging by its position, it should have been around two in the afternoon. They were close. The landscape was slowly beginning to change, with less deep snow and more low vegetation, a sign that the core of the Ice Curse was being left behind. Seungcheol had stopped to feed Jihoon again. He was dissatisfied with the Omega’s appetite.

— You ate very little, Jihoon. — Seungcheol said, looking at the small portion of dried meat the Omega had chewed. — You need to eat more.

Jihoon, who had been busy observing the nature around them, turned to him with a confused expression.

— No. Jihoon… no more. — He touched his belly, indicating he was full.

Mingyu, watching the interaction from his horse, intervened gently.

— Your Highness, if I may. He likely didn’t eat much when he was alone. His stomach must be used to small portions of fish and berries. We can’t make him eat too much at once; he could get sick. It’s better to give him small portions more frequently.

Mingyu’s explanation, though practical, only soured Seungcheol’s mood. The Prince tightened his grip on the reins.

— Years… he spent years eating only… fish.

Anger simmered in Seungcheol, directed at fate, at the Oracle, at the Curse, and at anyone who had allowed the Kingdom’s salvation to live in such conditions.

However, his anger softened when Hansol brought some dried grains from his pouch, a lighter treat. Jihoon looked at the grains with restrained wonder, eyes wide, and began nibbling on them with delight. The simple joy on the Omega’s face was a magnet to the Prince’s calm.

— Good. — Jihoon murmured, the pleasure of the taste clear. — Tasty.

Seungcheol only nodded, watching. He would have to ensure Jihoon was properly cared for. He would have to learn about an Omega’s diet, about the nuances of his temperament, and about how to protect him from everyone — even from his own Kingdom.

They mounted again.

Now, the path ahead was clearer. The change in the landscape was evident. Seungcheol felt the familiarity of the air, a dry and penetrating cold, different from the heavy, icy humidity of Jihoon’s territory.

— Almost there, Jihoon. — Seungcheol whispered.

They galloped for another half hour, until Wonwoo, leading the group, raised his hand. They stopped.

They stood on a ridge overlooking a vast valley. At its center, imposing and frozen, was the capital of the Kingdom. Built in gray stone, the city was dominated by the Royal Castle, a massive fortress with pointed towers, all covered by a constant layer of snow and ice. It was a spectacle of power and coldness. The sky over the city was a pale gray, and the air seemed to vibrate with the relentless chill of the curse. The beauty was undeniable, but the cold was oppressive.

Jihoon let out a small gasp. He turned in Seungcheol’s arms, his eyes fixed on the sight.

— Big. — he murmured, the word filled with awe.

— Yes. It’s the Kingdom. — Seungcheol replied, his voice full of pride and, strangely, a new apprehension. Jihoon’s scent had changed. It was not fear, nor sadness. It was intense curiosity, almost vibrating, with a touch of caution.

— So many… houses? — Jihoon asked, pointing at the buildings.

— Yes. So many houses. Where our people live. — Seungcheol took a deep breath. — And the Castle. Where I live.

Jihoon looked at the Castle. The largest, coldest, and most oppressive of all the structures. The Omega said nothing more, simply stared, absorbing the magnitude of his new world. Seungcheol took the moment to think. The Castle would be the most dangerous place and, paradoxically, the safest for Jihoon.

— Let’s go. — Seungcheol said, and the group advanced, descending the ridge toward the city that longed for healing. The Wild Lotus was finally arriving at the heart of the Ice Kingdom.

The closer the city came into view, the more its gray stone walls seemed to swallow the faint afternoon light. The air, though less frigid than in the Ice Territory, still carried the oppressive chill of the Curse. A few hundred meters from the entrance gates, guarded by armed soldiers, Seungcheol halted his mount by pulling the reins and signaled for Wonwoo to approach.

— Wonwoo. — Seungcheol’s voice was low and tense. — I need you to go ahead. Find some oil that masks scent. Quickly.

Wonwoo, mounted on his horse, tilted his head, confused. The almost imperceptible scent of Earth from the Beta revealed his perplexity.

— Your Majesty, shouldn’t we do the opposite? Show that we have an Omega? The city is starved for hope. It would be the most important announcement in decades.

Seungcheol clenched his jaw. He looked at Jihoon, who was watching the city with bright, curious eyes. The Prince could not risk it.

— No. Not now. — Seungcheol said, his voice hardening. — I’ll explain everything later. Just do it. Please.

The “please” came out so pained, so thick with desperation and barely hidden fear, that Wonwoo almost did not believe he had heard it from the stoic Crown Prince. The Beta understood that the situation was far more serious.

— Understood, Your Highness. — Wonwoo asked no more. He spurred his horse and rode toward the city.

Seungcheol remained still with Jihoon and the rest of the small retinue. The Prince used the time to reiterate his plan: Jihoon would be introduced as a rescued Beta, perhaps exiled from some remote region, whom they had found in the depths of the Ice Territory. Hansol and Mingyu, already aware of the story, nodded.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo acted efficiently. He entered the city, bought the strongest oil he could find — a rough oil usually used by novice soldiers who had not yet learned to control their pheromones on the battlefield — and made sure no one saw him. He returned with the small bottle.

— Here it is, Your Highness. — Wonwoo handed over the oil and stepped back.

Jihoon, who had watched Wonwoo leave and return, widened his eyes even more when Seungcheol opened the bottle. The oil was thick and had a strong, bitter herbal scent meant to mask odor.

Seungcheol poured a bit of the oil into his palm and turned to Jihoon.

— Jihoon. — He spoke, gesturing to the Omega’s neck and then to his own nose. — Smell. Right?

He waited. Jihoon, though confused, nodded slowly, understanding the action but not the reason.

With as much delicacy as he could manage, the Prince began rubbing the oil around Jihoon’s neck, directly over his scent glands, and then on his wrists.

— What? — Jihoon asked, bothered by the strong smell of the oil.

— Smell. Not have. Protection. — Seungcheol tried to simplify.

Jihoon processed it, but then a deeply sincere sadness took over his small face.

— Jihoon smell bad?

Wonwoo, on the horse beside them, saw the panic flash across the Prince’s face in response to Jihoon’s sadness and quickly pretended that Hansol was calling him, moving away to avoid dealing with a possible Omega crying.

The Prince felt like the worst man alive. The innocent question struck him like an arrow.

— No! No, Jihoon! Your smell is… — He stopped, out of words to describe the scent of Rain. — Your smell is good! Not bad! Just… — He tried to find a word in his limited shared vocabulary with the Omega. — … dangerous. Pro… Protector.

Seungcheol grew nervous, struggling to reassure the Omega.

— Just… protection. Please, Jihoon. — He pressed a soft kiss to the Omega’s forehead, an entirely impulsive gesture.

Jihoon did not seem to understand the explanation, but the gesture and the urgency in Seungcheol’s Pine and Snow scent calmed him. He nodded again, resigned. If Cheol said it was for protection, then it was for protection.

Seungcheol had no time to fix the misunderstanding. He mounted his horse, pulling Jihoon close.

— Now, we go. — His voice was firm.

They rejoined the retinue and advanced toward the city.

Seungcheol’s plan was in motion. The Omega would be a Beta. An exile. No one would question much, given that the depths of the ice were unexplored.

Wonwoo, Hansol, and Mingyu, all loyal to the Prince, knew that the future of the Kingdom and Jihoon’s life depended on their discretion. Wonwoo had made sure to warn the other soldiers that punishment for leaking information would be severe.

When the retinue passed through the gates, the city was cold but full of life. The residents looked at the group of soldiers, but no one suspected that the small man with long hair and a curious expression, wrapped in furs in the Prince’s arms, was the Wild Lotus, the cure for the Ice Curse, and the Kingdom’s most carefully guarded secret.

Jihoon’s scent was sealed beneath the strong oil, and the Prince was on his way to hide his salvation within his own castle.

Chapter Text

Seungcheol’s retinue moved slowly through the frozen streets of the capital. The city, though cold and grey, teemed with human life, upon seeing the Crown Prince returning from his rounds or travels, people stopped, bowing in a sign of respect.

This time, however, attention was not solely on the Prince. Curious gazes fixed on the small, disheveled man nestled in the heir's arms, wrapped in thick furs with his face partially hidden. No one dared to break protocol and ask questions in the Prince's presence, but the murmur of speculation was almost audible.

The path to the Royal Palace was as peaceful as possible, thanks to the barrier of soldiers surrounding the Prince. For Jihoon, however, the experience was overwhelming. He had never seen so many people, and the intense mixture of scents from Alphas and Betas, along with the myriad odors of the city—smoke, spices, animals—was a sensory assault on his nose, accustomed only to the purity of ice, pine, and the familiar scent of Rain.

Jihoon felt overloaded. The scent of Rain beneath the strong oil, though masked for others, vibrated with tension. He curled up, hiding as much as he could in Seungcheol’s arms, trying to block out the outside world. Seungcheol was deeply concerned. He could feel Jihoon’s discomfort, the tension in his body. The Omega was dealing with a sensory overload he could never have imagined. Yet, Jihoon had not cried nor startled to the point of exploding into panic, which, to the Prince, was a sign of remarkable strength.

Upon reaching the massive entrance of the Castle, Seungcheol realized he needed to do something. He gave a few light, rhythmic pats to Jihoon’s stomach—an instinctive gesture of comfort.

— Calm down. Almost there. — He murmured against the Omega's hair.

Seungcheol wasn't sure if it worked, but Jihoon clung to him even tighter, the Alpha decided that meant a "yes."

The Castle was a grim and imposing fortress. On the stone steps, awaiting the Prince's arrival, were a few servants and, more worryingly, three members of the Royal Council. They were the Beta Lady Minji, the Beta Lord Jaeho, and the Alpha Lord Taesung. Seungcheol saw them as necessary pests: fake smiles and kind words that hid ambitions and a lack of vision for the Kingdom.

The three Council members stepped forward.

— Your Highness! How good to have you back, safe and sound. — Alpha Lord Taesung spoke, his voice full of false cordiality.

The first questions were the mandatory courtesies regarding the success of the trip and the hunt. But the true question was evident in everyone’s eyes, especially those of the three Council members: the man hiding behind the Prince.

Lord Jaeho, the most perceptive Beta, was the first to approach the subject, trying to appear discreet.

— Prince Seungcheol, forgive the indiscretion, but... who is your companion? It seems he has suffered greatly from the cold.

Seungcheol dismounted from his horse, still holding Jihoon. He placed the Omega on the ground, who immediately hid behind his body, clutching his fur coat.

— This is Jihoon. — Seungcheol began, assuming his persona of the Benevolent Prince. — We found him deep within the Ice Territory. I believe he is a Beta, exiled or abandoned in terrible conditions. He was living alone out there. I could not, in good conscience, let him perish in the cold.

Seungcheol’s story was plausible. He was known for his benevolence, and the idea of a Beta being exiled to the frozen lands was not entirely absurd. The Council seemed to accept the explanation, but curiosity and skepticism still hung in the air.

— A Beta, Your Highness. I see. — Lady Minji, the Beta, tilted her head, studying Jihoon with calculating eyes. — And what will become of him?

The question caught Seungcheol off guard. He had focused so much on hiding Jihoon’s nature that he hadn't thought of the logistical details.

— Wonwoo will take care of that. — Seungcheol fired back, pointing to the Beta Advisor. — He will find an appropriate place for him in the servants' quarters. Perhaps find some simple employment for him in the Castle once he recovers. You needn't worry about the details.

He took a step back, using his authority to end the conversation.

— Now, if you will excuse me. My men and I are exhausted from the journey. We shall retire to our quarters.

Seungcheol turned to climb the steps toward the main entrance of the Castle. Jihoon, still clutching his coat, made a motion to follow him.

However, Wonwoo intervened quickly, aware of his role. He placed a hand on Jihoon’s arm and gently pulled him to the opposite side.

— Excuse me, Jihoon. The Prince needs to rest. Come with me. I will show you where you will stay. — Wonwoo whispered, his voice calm and reassuring, trying to minimize the Omega’s anxiety. — Cheol will be back later.

Jihoon looked at Wonwoo, then at Seungcheol’s retreating back, panic returning to his face.

— Cheol? — He asked, trying to resist.

— He’ll be back. Trust me. — Wonwoo guaranteed, pulling him more firmly, but without aggression, toward a side door.

As the scene unfolded and Wonwoo managed to lead Jihoon away, a small, high-pitched squeak pierced the air. Chester, the flying squirrel who had been hidden in Jihoon’s hair, emerged from his hiding place. He fixed his small black eyes on the three Council members still at the entrance and let out a squirrel-curse—a threatening and sharp hiss—before hiding again.

The three Council members blinked, staring at the squirrel.

— Strange. — Lord Taesung murmured. — That wild animal seemed... to grow angry with us.

— It is wild nature, Lord Taesung. Do not worry. — Lady Minji dismissed, but there was a note of suspicion in her voice as she watched the door through which the "Beta" had disappeared.

Seungcheol, however, had already climbed the steps, his heart tightened by the separation, but his mind focused on protecting the secret. The Wild Lotus was in the Castle. Now, the silent war to keep him safe had begun.

Wonwoo guided Jihoon through the vast and labyrinthine corridors of the Castle. The Omega, though visibly hesitant after being separated from Seungcheol, followed Wonwoo like a shadow, his hand clutching the Beta's coat firmly. For Jihoon, it was an avalanche of information. The ceilings were high, and the hallways were made of polished grey stone, lit by torches and thick glass windows. There were hanging tapestries, shining suits of armor, and, most importantly, smells. So many smells. The scent of metal, the scent of candle wax, the scent of kitchen food, and, constantly, the scents of Alphas and Betas in varying intensities. The overstimulation made him feel dizzy, and he closed his eyes for brief moments to try and process it all.

Despite the confusion, Jihoon's curiosity was insatiable. He looked up and to the sides, trying to memorize the countless doors and the figures passing by.

The journey through the Castle floors was long, and Jihoon—already exhausted from the horse ride, he now knew the name —began to show signs of weariness. His pace slowed, and his scent shifted, increasing slightly with notes of fatigue.

Finally, they arrived. Wonwoo opened a heavy wooden door that led to his private study. The room was surprisingly functional and cozy for a Beta of his status: walls lined with shelves overflowing with books, a large oak desk in the center, and, nestled near a lit fireplace, a large upholstered sofa.

Wonwoo led Jihoon to the sofa and had him sit down. The Omega sank into the soft upholstery, his eyes widening at the comfort. He had never felt anything like it. He began to stroke the fabric with his pale hands, surprise and pleasure evident on his face.

— Wonu! — Jihoon looked at the Beta, completely ignoring Wonwoo's correct name. — Name! Is good!

Wonwoo sighed, a sound of resignation, but a small smile played on his lips. He knew "Wonu" would be his name for Jihoon for quite some time.

— It’s a sofa, Jihoon. — Wonwoo explained, sitting in a chair facing the Omega. — Do you like it?

Jihoon nodded vigorously, bobbing his head. — Yes! Soft!

Wonwoo felt a pang of pity. The contrast between the harsh life Jihoon had led and the simple comfort of the Castle was shocking. The Beta, however, had to address the elephant in the room.

— Jihoon. You’re going to have to stay... away from Cheol for a little while.

The light in Jihoon's eyes dimmed.

— Away Cheol? — His voice was weak and confused, the scent of Light Rain gaining notes of anxiety.

Wonwoo didn't know how to explain the politics, the Curse, the Council members, and the danger of having an Omega in the Castle.

— Cheol needs... to work. A lot. — Wonwoo used the simplest word. — And you need... calm. And safety. Be patient. He hasn't forgotten you.

Jihoon, despite his naivety, was able to read the seriousness in Wonwoo's face. The Omega nodded, though the sadness was palpable. His instinctive loyalty to Seungcheol was strong, but he understood the need for obedience.

— Yes. Patience. — He repeated, trying to memorize the word.

Wonwoo felt that the hardest part of the conversation had passed. He changed the subject quickly.

— Are you hungry?

Jihoon's eyes lit up.

— Yes! Hunger! Fat fish! Chester fat fish too!

Wonwoo made a mental note: provide a stock of nuts for the "bodyguard."

Jihoon's intelligence was remarkable. In less than two days, he had absorbed more than a dozen words and understood complex concepts like 'work,' 'good and bad'—even if still confused at times—and 'patience,' despite the difficulty in articulation. Wonwoo was certain that with a few weeks of dedicated instruction, Jihoon would speak understandably.

I have to talk to Jisoo and Jeonghan... Wonwoo thought. The Beta had two trusted friends in the Castle: Hong Jisoo, a Beta teacher for Prince Seokmin known for his infinite patience, and Yoon Jeonghan, an Alpha with the sharpest tongue in the Kingdom but a kind heart, who worked in the administration of the royal library.

For now, Wonwoo simply called a servant and requested a small lunch for the two of them. It was almost time for the Castle's official dinner, but they needed to take advantage of the Omega's appetite.

While they waited, Jihoon was staring at Wonwoo's bookshelf. His eyes were large and bright with fascination. He didn't touch the books, he only looked at them as if they were mysterious treasures.

Wonwoo noticed the Omega's focus, so he rose from his chair and went to the shelf to grab a large, thick-covered book he had kept since Seokmin, Seungcheol's younger brother, was only two years old. It was a simple picture book: animals, fruits, the city. The younger Beta was now twelve, but the book had remained there.

Wonwoo handed the book to Jihoon.

— Here. Look.

Jihoon took the book with reverence. He opened it and was shocked by the colors and images. He began to leaf through it, his eyes absorbing every detail, his hands stopping on a page with the figure of a deer. The fascination was complete.

Jihoon's scent gradually calmed, the anxiety over Seungcheol's absence was replaced by concentration on the new discovery.

Wonwoo smiled subtly. He had found a key to calming the Omega.

— This will be easier than I thought, — Wonwoo murmured, observing the Omega's intelligence and curiosity. Wonwoo knew his life had just become infinitely more complicated, but the sight of Jihoon fascinated by the book was a small beacon of hope.

The study door opened, and the servant entered with a tray of food: soft bread, simple cheese, and a vegetable broth. Jihoon lifted his head from the book, his eyes moving from the deer to the food, and then to Wonwoo, with a hungry but patient expression.

— Well, let’s eat!

Jihoon had finished his portion of bread, cheese, and broth, and although he still felt a primal hunger for fat fish, the satiety was a pleasant sensation. He was already leaning over to return to leafing through Wonwoo’s picture book when the Beta called him.

— Jihoon. — Wonwoo’s voice was serious but patient. — We have to go now.

The Omega looked up, his momentary annoyance quickly replaced by curiosity, he then rose from the soft sofa, the memory of the comfort provided by that newly-named object already etched into his mind.

Wonwoo needed a room for Jihoon, and he needed it to be close. Near himself, Hansol, or Mingyu. Seungcheol was out of the question—the Prince slept in the Royal Wing, and if the Wild Lotus were found there, no excuse of an "exiled Beta" would be enough to calm the Council’s paranoia.

The two left the office. As fascinated as Jihoon was by the grandeur and details of the Castle, he felt deeply uncomfortable with the vastness and the multitude of scents, survival instinct alerted him, so he quickly dashed forward and grabbed Wonwoo’s larger hand, positioning himself at the Beta's side. The Omega felt slightly safer with one of his "friends" nearby.

Wonwoo wouldn't lie: the gesture was a touch that made his heart tighten. Jihoon's purity and naive trust were almost irresistible, he felt a desire to spoil him and soothe him, but he quickly suppressed the impulse. Someone in this Castle had to be the voice of reason.

— We have to find a bed for you, Jihoon. — Wonwoo explained, looking at the Omega who was walking almost glued to him. — Do you want to go see?

Jihoon nodded, his large, dark eyes reflecting the torchlight.

The two headed toward the Servants' Wing. Hansol and Mingyu, he assumed, were finally enjoying their well-deserved rest. Wonwoo himself felt aches in his bones after the long journey on horseback and yearned for his own bed, but the task of settling Jihoon took absolute priority. If he failed, Seungcheol would turn him into pig feed—figuratively or literally. So, he moved through the Wing, dragging the smaller man along, searching for Yeosang, the Beta responsible for accommodations and general order among the servants. Wonwoo would have to give Yeosang the fake story about the "exiled Beta," but he needed a clear explanation: Jihoon did not speak the Kingdom’s language well and barely understood complex instructions.

He circled several corridors, but there was no sign of the blonde Beta. The Castle was massive, and finding Yeosang at that hour of the night would be an exhausting hunt.

Wonwoo looked at Jihoon, the Omega’s eyes were heavy with sleep, struggling to stay open after the meal and the day's overload. He then made a drastic but practical decision.

— Right. We don't have time for this.

He scooped Jihoon up into his arms, ignoring the Omega's small sound of surprise, and carried him toward the guards' quarters where Hansol and Mingyu had their rooms.

The Prince had subtly forbidden any intimacy with Jihoon, and Wonwoo knew that while Mingyu was loyal to the crown, the Alpha had a naturally stronger and more dominant scent. If Seungcheol caught Mingyu’s heavy scent on Jihoon… the Prince’s fury would be catastrophic. Hansol, being a Beta, was the safest option with a less invasive aroma.

Wonwoo stopped at Hansol’s door and knocked.

It took a few seconds, but the door opened to reveal Hansol, visibly recently awoken, with his brown hair sticking out in every possible direction and his uniform shirt unbuttoned.

— Wonwoo? What happened? — Hansol asked, his voice husky from sleep.

Then he saw the small Omega in Wonwoo’s arms.

— Oh, hi, Jihoonie. — Hansol managed a small smile.

Jihoon, with heavy eyes, replied with a small, sleepy smile and a wave.

Wonwoo gave no time for explanations. He pushed Jihoon gently into the room.

— Jihoon is sleeping here tonight. — Wonwoo declared, the urgency in his voice undeniable.

Hansol, now more awake, looked from Jihoon to Wonwoo in confusion. His room was large, but it wasn't prepared for a guest.

— Why? I thought you were going to get him a room with Yeosang...

— Yeosang disappeared. And it’s better for him to stay with one of us, anyway. What if someone takes him or notices the scent? The Prince’s plan is the priority. — Wonwoo pulled a small vial from his belt. — Oh, by the way, here is the oil. Tomorrow, when you wake up, have him take a quick bath and apply the oil again. Right? Don't forget. See you tomorrow. Sleep well!

With the speed of a ghost and the authority of a general, Wonwoo closed the door, leaving Hansol standing still and Jihoon looking at the Beta with sleepy confusion.

Hansol sighed, his scent dimming in resignation.

— Well, looks like I’m your emergency babysitter, Jihoonie. — Hansol smiled, a genuine one this time. He looked at his bed, which was large, though not a double. — Thank heavens my bed is big. Come on, Jihoonie. Want to sleep?

Jihoon responded with a large yawn and a nod. Hansol led him to the bed, and both collapsed onto the pillows. The exhaustion of the trip was mutual, in a matter of seconds, with his head resting on the soft pillow and Hansol’s safe scent nearby, Jihoon fell asleep. Hansol followed suit shortly after.