The sun had set by the time Han woke, his body stiff from hours spent slumped against the wall. His eyes fluttered open, and he found Jet sitting across from him, a soft smile on his lips, a warmth in his gaze.
"Evening," Jet said, his voice a little hoarse but steady, his usual energy slowly returning.
Han rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the sleep. "Good evening," he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion. He pushed himself up, only to be met with a steady, piercing gaze from Jet.
Jet wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, something different than before. Something that made Han's chest tighten.
"You didn't have to do all that, you know," Jet said, his voice quieter now, softer. "You could have just... let your instincts take over. It would've been easier."
Han swallowed, his throat dry, and turned away briefly.
"I couldn't," Han finally said, his voice low, his gaze avoiding Jet's. "It was difficult. Every instinct in me was screaming to claim you, to make you mine, but... I didn't want to do that. Not like that. Not when you weren't in your right mind. I needed you to know that it wasn't just... biology, Jet."
He turned to face Jet now, the vulnerability in his eyes raw. "I wanted to prove to you that it was more than just the heat. That I'm here for you, for you... not just to become mates, but because I care."
Jet's heart clenched, something tight and warm growing inside him. The confession hung in the air, heavy, and his own emotions were no longer clouded by heat. He could see it now—the depth of Han's restraint, his dedication. Han had sacrificed his own comfort, fought against his instincts, for him. For Jet.
"You foolish boy," Jet laughed. 'Stop making me fall for you,' he thought.
—-
"Look at what you've done!" Jet's mother's voice trembled with anguish as she paced around the breakfast table. "Four days! It's been four days, and my son is still not back. He didn't even bring his coat! The storm—it's freezing out there! My baby could—he could be…" Her voice broke, and she pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to catch her breath.
"Breathe, love, breathe," her husband said, reaching out to steady her. "The townsfolk and the guards are searching. He'll be found safely."
She pulled her arm away, glaring at him with tear-filled eyes. "If it weren't for your stupid anger over baseless rumours, he wouldn't have left in the first place! Do you even realize what you've done? You grabbed our Omega son like he was some animal instead of your own flesh and blood!"
Jet's father sighed, the weight of guilt heavy in his posture. "I know. I know I acted out of anger, and I should have thought things through. I want to apologize, truly… but first, we have to bring him home."
Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, but before she could respond, one of the household servants rushed in, her face flushed with urgency.
"Master! Madam! Feng Jet has returned!"
The room fell silent for a beat, the words hanging in the air like a prayer answered. Then, the couple sprang into action, following the servant to the front gate.
There he was—Jet, walking slowly through the snow, his figure hunched and clothes disheveled, remnants of Han's care visible in the coat. His face was a bit pale, his movements stiff, but he was alive.
"Jet!" his mother cried, rushing forward. She threw her arms around him, her relief spilling out in sobs. "Oh, my boy! My sweet boy! You're alive."
Jet staggered slightly under her weight but managed a small, tired smile. "I'm sorry, Mother," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to worry you."
His father joined them, his expression a mix of guilt and overwhelming relief. "You don't need to apologize, son. It's me who owes you an apology. I let my anger get the better of me, and I drove you away." He placed a hand on Jet's shoulder, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Jet."
Jet's eyes softened, though his exhaustion was evident. "I… I just wanted some time," he said quietly, shivering slightly as the cold night still lingered on his skin.
His mother tightened her embrace, shielding him from the chill. "You're home now. That's all that matters," she said firmly, though her voice wavered with emotion. She pulled back to look at him, her hands cradling his face. "Let's get you inside and warmed up."
Jet nodded, leaning on them as they guided him back toward the house. He cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder, toward the direction of the forest where Han remained. A small, private smile touched his lips, gratitude.
"What happened out there?" his mother asked gently as she placed the bowl of steaming soup on the table beside Jet.
Jet stared at the soup for a moment, his hands wrapped around the blanket draped over his shoulders. "I… don't want to talk about it," he said, forcing a small, awkward smile as he avoided her gaze.
His mother hesitated, concern flickering in her eyes, but she nodded. "That's alright. You're home now, and that's what matters." She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Jet let out a long sigh once he was alone, his shoulders slumping. His eyes wandered to the old coat lying crumpled on the floor. He'd meant to return it, but his body still felt heavy, and the rumours swirling around his sudden disappearance hadn't died down. If anything, they seemed to grow louder.
He leaned back, exhaustion tugging at him again. But the coat—a silent reminder of someone waiting for him—remained in his thoughts.
'Han,' he thought. 'Stop giving me mixed feelings.'
The door creaked open, startling Jet. He looked up to see his father entering, carrying an air of formality that made Jet sit up straighter.
"Father," Jet greeted, his voice steady despite his lingering fatigue.
His father settled into the chair beside the bed, his expression a mix of pride and determination. "I know this may be hard to hear, but spring is approaching quickly," he began.
Jet tilted his head, curious but wary.
"And someone has accepted you as their bride," his father continued. "However, with the rumours spreading like wildfire, they are beginning to reconsider. But don't worry—I'm certain you'll come to love her."
"A female or male?" Jet asked, his brows furrowing slightly. "A Beta or an Alpha?"
"A female Beta," his father replied, his tone lighter now. "The preparations are already underway. If all goes well, you'll be married by the first of spring!"
Jet's stomach churned, but he kept his expression neutral. "I see," he said, nodding slowly. His father's excitement was evident, and Jet didn't want to dampen it, no matter how conflicted he felt.
"You're growing so fast," his father said fondly, patting Jet's shoulder before standing. "Rest well, son. You'll need your strength for the festivities ahead."
Jet watched him leave, the sound of the door closing leaving the room in silence once more. He exhaled deeply, his mind swirling. A month. By the first of spring, his life would change entirely.
'Why does it feel like everything's slipping away?'