Forced Vows,true Love ||top Tae

3

Jungkook stormed out of the royal chamber, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. His heart pounded against his ribs as if trying to break free, much like how he wanted to escape the suffocating walls of his own fate.

Kim Taehyung.

The name echoed in his mind, each syllable laced with a foreboding weight. He had heard whispers of the man—an alpha feared on the battlefield, cold as the steel of his sword, a prince who neither bowed nor softened for anyone.

And by tomorrow night, Jungkook was supposed to be his.

His hands trembled as he rushed through the palace corridors, ignoring the concerned glances of the servants who bowed in his wake. He barely registered his surroundings until he found himself back in the palace garden, his sanctuary, the only place where he could breathe.

His knees gave way, and he sank onto the cool stone bench, his fingers gripping the fabric of his hanfu as if it could ground him.

“This can’t be happening,” he thought desperately. “There must be a way out.”

A soft whimper echoed in his mind—Kookoo, his wolf, restless and uneasy. The bond between them pulsed with emotions, mirroring Jungkook’s own distress.

“We must fight.” Kookoo’s voice, low and protective, rumbled in his consciousness.

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, his chest tightening. Fight? Against whom? His brother? His father? The entire kingdom?

The reality was suffocating. He was trapped. Bound by duty, by expectations, by the weight of his own name.

A soft rustle caught his attention, and Jungkook turned sharply to see his mother standing a few steps away. Her usually serene expression was clouded with sorrow.

“My son…” she murmured, approaching him slowly.

Jungkook looked away, his jaw tightening. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

The Queen sighed, lowering herself onto the bench beside him. “Because it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Jungkook clenched his fists. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew they were planning this.”

“I did.”

Her quiet admission stung worse than any blade.

“Then why?” His voice cracked, frustration laced with betrayal.

She reached out, brushing his hair back in a rare display of tenderness. “Because sometimes, love is not enough to change fate.”

Jungkook’s throat tightened. “You speak as if this is something beautiful. It’s not. They’re handing me over like a pawn on a chessboard.”

His mother sighed. “Taehyung is not an ordinary man. He will not be easy, but…” She hesitated. “He is powerful, Jungkook. He can protect you in ways we never could.”

Jungkook turned to her sharply. “Protect me from what?”

The Queen hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “There are forces at play that even I cannot speak of. But trust me, my love… this marriage is not just about politics.”

~~~~

In a distant land, far across the sea, Taehyung stood motionless in his chambers as the attendants worked swiftly to prepare him. His eyes were lowered, unfocused, watching their movements without really seeing them, feeling the weight of the dark green robes settling onto his shoulders like chains. The embroidered fabric, gilded and rich, symbolized everything he had grown up with—wealth, duty, and the relentless expectations of his family.

“You must attend the Spring Festival,” his mother’s voice still echoed in his mind, each word searing like a brand. “You’re thirty now, Taehyung. You can’t avoid it any longer. You’re not a boy anymore—you’re the heir. This… mateless existence, it’s shameful.”

Shameful. The word lingered, prickling at his pride. Did they truly think so little of him that his worth was tied to something as simple as whether or not he had a mate? He was a warrior, a leader—he had given up countless things, even parts of himself, for Utopia. And yet all they saw was his “failure” to secure a future with a mate.

Every time they mentioned it, he felt his heart harden further. They don’t know anything, he thought bitterly. They have no idea what I’ve gone through. What I’ve lost.

The truth was, Taehyung had once dreamed of a mate. He had once believed that there could be a connection beyond duty, beyond family obligations. But the years had passed, filled with nothing but wars, alliances, and sleepless nights spent defending a kingdom that demanded everything from him yet gave nothing back. And with each year, he had lost more of himself, and with it, his belief that love could be real.

He had learned to close himself off, to hide his emotions behind an unbreakable wall. And now, they wanted him to tear that wall down for the sake of appearances. As if he could simply turn his heart on and off at their convenience.

The attendants placed the final piece of his attire around his shoulders, a heavy collar of woven silver that made him feel even more like a prisoner in his own life. He caught his reflection in the polished glass of his mirror, and for a moment, he barely recognized the man staring back at him. Stoic, composed, every inch a royal. But he couldn’t see the real Taehyung—the one who had quietly suffered, who had built armor around his heart to keep out the emptiness threatening to consume him.

Inside him, his wolf, Van, stirred, his instincts keenly attuned to Taehyung’s emotions. He growled softly, restless and unsettled, mirroring his frustration. Van had always been his one constant, the part of him that understood him fully, without words. He was the only one who felt the depth of Taehyung’s loneliness, his longing for something real.

What are we doing here, Van? Taehyung asked silently, his thoughts reaching out. Do they really think a festival will change anything? That I can find someone who’ll love me for more than my title?

He felt Van’s quiet reassurance, a presence that grounded him, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the ache inside. Taehyung knew why he had closed himself off—to protect himself from the pain of disappointment. He had stopped believing in love because love felt like a luxury for others—a fleeting dream for those who hadn’t endured what he had.

Yet, despite his bitterness, there was a small part of him—buried deep—that still yearned for something more. A life where he wasn’t simply a soldier or a prince, a life where someone could look at him and see beyond the mask, beyond the image of a flawless warrior his family insisted he maintain.

His father’s words echoed in his mind again: “You have a duty, Taehyung. Not just to the kingdom, but to yourself. You can’t go through life alone.”

Alone. The word struck something deep inside him. Was that what he was? Alone? A man without love, without a future he truly cared for? The thought twisted in his chest, as if a shadow had cast itself over him, lingering, reminding him that his life had become a series of empty victories. Glory without joy, power without purpose.

But Taehyung knew he couldn’t let himself dwell on it. He was a prince, and princes didn’t get to complain about loneliness or lost dreams. He would go to this festival. He would put on a face of indifference, as he always did, and endure the crowd’s whispers and hopeful glances. He would do it because that was what was expected, even if his heart felt like a hollow shell, barely able to keep beating beneath the weight of his obligations.

As he walked out of his chambers, the festival preparations already in full swing, Taehyung cast a final glance back at the mirror. For a brief moment, he saw the man he once thought he’d become—the one who still believed in happiness, in love, in a life that was truly his own.

But that vision faded just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the stoic, impenetrable mask he had learned to wear so well. And so he left, heart steeled, ready to face whatever this festival would bring, but knowing that, whatever happened, his heart was not truly free.