His Baby Daddy [ Taekook ]

Chapter 21

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Pale light seeped through gauze curtains, tinting the air with gold and shadow. A hush lay over the East Wing like a held breath. Jungkook adjusted the hem of his robe, fingers trembling as he smoothed the midnight-blue silk against his thighs. His hair was still damp from a restless bath, a few unruly strands curling over his temple. The soft weight of the pup pressed low against his belly, reassuring and heavy.

A knock came—two raps, followed by a softer one. Seokjin.

He entered first, healer's kit in hand and spectacles perched on his nose, radiating his usual calm. Behind him came Taehyung, quieter, his steps slower, his eyes searching.

He stopped at the threshold.

"You said thirty steps yesterday."

Jungkook nodded and motioned silently. “Come in.”

Taehyung crossed the room like it was sacred ground, gaze catching on every detail: the cushions Jungkook rested against, the basin of lemon balm water, the flickering ward runes painted above the doors. But mostly, he looked at Jungkook. Pale-faced, barefoot, hand curled instinctively over the soft rise of his stomach.

The ache to touch him flared, hot and unwelcome. Taehyung kept his arms at his sides.

Seokjin cleared his throat. “Vitals first. Prince, sit. You can watch, not hover.”

Jungkook almost smirked.

Taehyung obeyed, settling near the window, half-wrapped in morning light. Outside, the spires of the Crystal Citadel gleamed pale silver. Inside, silence gathered—soft, steady, fragile.

The examination passed in slow, methodical rhythm. Seokjin checked Jungkook’s pulse, pupil dilation, skin tone. His hands glowed faintly as he whispered old diagnostic spells that smelled faintly of lavender and ice.

“Good,” he said at last, with a nod. “Better than good. You’re stable.”

Jungkook exhaled, tension releasing from his shoulders. Lixue stirred in his mind, a low hum of approval that rippled through his spine.

Only then did Jungkook glance toward Taehyung. “Do you want to… hear them?”

Taehyung looked up, startled. “Can I?”

Seokjin nodded. “One moment.” He whispered over Jungkook’s belly, casting a sound-weaving rune that vibrated softly in the air.

Taehyung crossed the floor slowly, reverently. The faint, rhythmic pulse of the pup echoed in the space between them—steady, strong, impossibly alive.

Taehyung’s eyes stung. “Hello, little star,” he whispered, voice tight with wonder and something deeper—grief, maybe, or guilt.

Jungkook didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either. When Taehyung gently placed his hand beside his, their fingers brushed—brief, electric.

For a long breath, no one spoke. Seokjin busied himself with writing, but his gaze was soft, approving.

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Queen Mishil stood at the head of the long obsidian table, posture sharp and unyielding. She wore no crown—only the silver ring of House Crystal on her finger and a robe of moon-dyed velvet, fastened with a brooch shaped like a wolf’s fang.

Around her, generals, witches, and clan heads murmured, their voices low with tension. Even the torch flames seemed to lean in, listening.

“Sooyun has been detained,” Mishil said, voice cutting through the room like a blade. “The Thorn-Heart alliance is void unless they wish to confirm their involvement in treason.”

A vampire baron flinched. A river witch crossed her arms, eyes flashing. “The King won’t let this stand.”

“The King,” Mishil said, her gaze like frost, “no longer commands the Council of Bloodlines alone. The Heir is blood-marked. The child exists. That bond has greater weight than any corrupted vow.”

Another elder leaned forward. “And if the child isn’t pureblood?”

Mishil smiled, slow and dangerous. “Would you like to wager your titles on that doubt?”

Silence.

She unfurled a map of the surrounding kingdoms. Defensive lines gleamed with newly added enchantments. “Double warding at all borders. Rotate glamoured patrols every three hours. I suspect the King will not strike overtly—but he will strike.”

A wolf-lord growled softly. “Let him try.”

Mishil’s fingers brushed the edge of the map. “Let him think we’re merely reacting. He’ll misstep soon. And when he does—be ready.”

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The corridor stank of old iron and broken vows. Chains hung from the stone ceiling, some still wet. The King moved through it like a shadow, robes sweeping over salt-crusted ground.

Beside him, the witch carried a bowl carved from obsidian, filled with blood that steamed in the cold.

“The altar is ready,” the witch whispered. “Name your sacrifice.”

Hansol’s fingers hovered over the map. His gaze landed on a clearing deep within the Snow Moon Pack's territory—sacred ground to wolves. A place of old rites.

“Don’t strike the pup,” he said. “Not yet. Mishil’s power is too tightly woven.”

He tapped the glade.

“Curse the land. Taint the rivers. Let their wolves feel the rot in their bones. Their Alpha will rise. And when he does—we take him.”

The witch bowed, then vanished in a gust of charred wind.

Hansol stood alone, watching the candlelight tremble. “Let the boy watch his world crumble,” he murmured. “Let him learn what love costs.”

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Clouds rolled in from the north, heavy with summer rain and veined with green lightning. Jungkook curled on the lounge, one hand on his bump, the other tracing the leather-bound edges of the correspondence journal.

Namjoon had delivered it with his usual quiet knock. No words—just the journal, placed with care on a folded cloth.

Jungkook opened to the latest page. Taehyung’s handwriting was clean, neat, but there was something raw in the strokes.

> The sound of them will stay with me forever. I have meetings tonight, but if you need anything, send Namjoon. Also: the wolf pup crest? I framed the sketch.

Jungkook smiled faintly.

> P.S. I dreamed of snow. And you.

A breath hitched in his throat. Lixue stirred with something between curiosity and longing.

Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the lemon trees that lined the east balcony. A storm was coming.

He set the journal down and let his eyes drift shut, hand resting on the curve of new life.

The baby kicked once. Strong. Assured.

Above, stormclouds gathered. Below, kingdoms plotted.

But here—just for this heartbeat—there was peace.

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A/N

Enjoy reading 💜