His Baby Daddy [ Taekook ]

chapter 12

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Wind keened across the hospital rooftop, rattling rain-streaked panes. Jungkook sat upright in his adjustable bed, elbow propped on a pillow as he traced patterns over the curve of his abdomen. A life thrummed beneath his palm—quiet, insistent, both comfort and terrifying reminder. Three months of silence from Lixue had dulled some pain, but not the longing.

A soft croak startled him. He looked up.

A raven perched on the window-ledge, feathers so glossy they mirrored starlight. Tied to its leg: a silver-edged envelope stamped with a crystal-shard crest.

Jungkook’s pulse skipped. Crystal Kingdom. Taehyung’s home.

He swung his legs off the bed, winced at lingering dizziness, then shuffled across cold linoleum. The bird didn’t flinch as he cracked the latch. Fingers trembling, he detached the letter and watched the raven glide into the night.

Inside, handwriting elegant and sure:

> Dearest Jungkook of the Snow Moon Pack,
I am Queen Mishil, mother of Prince Kim Taehyung.
I beg an audience to speak of my son, your heart, and the child you carry.
If you will permit, I shall arrive tomorrow at dusk.
With deepest respect,
—Mishil of Crystal

His hands shook harder. The words child you carry seemed to glow. Tears blurred the page. How does she know already? Seokjin must have informed her—or magic couriers traveled fast in vampire courts. Either way, a queen was coming. Tomorrow.

Jungkook clutched the letter to his chest, breathing through the swell of fear, anger, curiosity… and a stubborn spark of hope he’d tried to bury.

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After the raven left, silence flooded the room. In it, Jungkook felt everything: the weight of a kingdom’s scrutiny, the phantom throb where Taehyung’s fangs had touched his neck, and beneath it all, a butterfly-flutter of life.

He forced a calming breath, hand circling his belly.

> You already feel real, he whispered to the pup.
And I don’t even have a name.
Lixue stirred faintly—an almost-thought, a brush of tail—but still no words.

Seokjin re-entered with nutrient broth and found Jungkook gazing at the letter. When their eyes met, the witch-doctor raised an eyebrow.

“You read it.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Heirloom stationery.” Jin whistled softly. “Mishil does nothing halfway.”

“Will she—” The question caught in Jungkook’s throat. “Will she try to take the baby?”