His Baby Daddy [ Taekook ]

Chapter 22

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☆*🥀*☆

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The wind howled unnaturally.

Yoongi crouched near the treeline, eyes narrowed at the glade that had fed their pack for generations. The old birch trees stood twisted now, bark blackened as though burned from the inside out. Moss once thick with life now crumbled underfoot like ash. No birds sang. No insects stirred.

He touched the soil. It steamed.

“Beta,” a young patrol wolf called, panting. “The eastern creek dried overnight. And... the pups are refusing to eat.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened. “Pull them back to the main dens. Double the border watch. Don’t let anyone near this glade.”

He turned to the warrior beside him. “Send a hawk to the Crystal Citadel. Tag it for Jungkook. Tell him…”

His throat worked.

“Tell him the land screams. And something darker is coming.”

As the scout vanished into the canopy, Yoongi cast one last look at the desecrated grove. Lixue’s howl was faint in the back of his mind—too faint.

The balance was tilting.

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Jungkook reread the hawk’s message three times.

The parchment smelled of pine and blood. Yoongi’s handwriting was tight, nearly shaking:

> Border cursed. Earth dying. Wolves refusing to shift. Don’t come home yet—it’s bait. Stay hidden. Protect the pup.

He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. Lixue stirred, pressing close, restless.

Danger. Pack. Blood.

Ami entered with fresh water and stopped short at his face. “What is it?”

Jungkook handed her the message. Her lips thinned. “We should inform the Queen.”

“We will,” he said, voice like flint. “But not before Taehyung hears it first.”

---

Clouds bruised the sky.

Taehyung stood exactly thirty steps below the east garden’s edge, where marble steps met tangled vines of bloodroses. He looked up when he sensed Jungkook approaching.

Jungkook held the hawk’s message in one hand, cloak trailing behind him like a stormcloud.

“Did you know?” he asked, voice low.

Taehyung’s brow furrowed. “Know what?”

He handed over the parchment.

Taehyung’s eyes scanned it, shoulders going rigid. “The border—”

“Is cursed.”

“By my father,” Taehyung muttered. “This is his language. Bloodroot and silence.”

Jungkook folded his arms, eyes gleaming. “Yoongi says not to return. It’s bait.”

Taehyung stared down at the glade beyond the citadel, jaw tense. “Then he’s forcing our hand. The King wants you to run. To weaken the bond between the Citadel and the pack.”

There was silence for a beat.

“Why didn’t he come for me directly?” Jungkook asked finally.

Taehyung’s voice was hoarse. “Because you’re too well-guarded. Because you’re more powerful than he expected.”

“Or because he knows your loyalty still bends toward him.”

Taehyung flinched. “That’s not fair.”

Jungkook stepped closer, anger barely contained. “Then help me believe it’s not.”

Taehyung looked up at him, eyes rimmed red—not from tears, but from exhaustion. From trying. “I framed that sketch. I listen to their heartbeat every night in my dreams. I can’t undo the past, Jungkook. But I would tear down the Citadel stone by stone to protect the future.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

“I don’t need stones,” he said softly. “I need you to stay.”

“Then I will,” Taehyung whispered. “Even if it means standing between you and my father.”

The wind carried petals between them—white, bruised pink at the edges. One landed on Jungkook’s wrist.

He didn’t brush it away.

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Queen Mishil dismissed the court with a flick of her fan.

Only a few remained—Namjoon, two council mages, and Haneul.

“I want shields raised at every major leyline intersection by midnight,” she said. “And I want eyes on every pack elder. Especially those who once supported Hansol.”

Namjoon bowed slightly. “You expect him to act again soon?”

“He already has,” Mishil said, tapping Yoongi’s message. “But he’s not trying to win. He’s trying to provoke.”

One of the mages frowned. “To what end?”

“Civil war,” Mishil answered. “He doesn’t need to hold the throne. He just needs to make the heir’s bloodline seem dangerous enough to divide the realm.”

She looked out the high windows toward the eastern horizon.

“Ready the moon-fire wards. We protect the child at all costs.”

---

Jungkook lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as moonlight filtered through sheer drapes. His hand rested over the bump, feeling the gentle kicks—soft, but insistent.

Lixue stirred again, closer than before. Less silent. Less afraid.

Wolf wakes.

His fingers curled protectively.

He thought of Yoongi’s message, of Taehyung’s eyes, of the land that raised him now curling in pain. Thought of how close the King’s curses were creeping.

Then he reached for the journal beside the bed and wrote:

> I won’t run. Not again. Not when we’re this close.

If you’re serious about standing between us and your father—then be at the Council tomorrow.

With your sword drawn.

He signed only his name. No titles. No pleasantries.

Just: Jungkook.

The wolf beneath his skin growled softly in approval.

And far away, across dark hills and haunted groves, something growled back.

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A/N

Enjoy reading 💜