His Baby Daddy [ Taekook ]

Chapter 28

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The Snow Moon lodge was quiet, but not peaceful. Silence here was heavy, as though even the carved stone walls had ears, listening, waiting.

Taehyung moved through the halls with Namjoon at his side, the echo of boots on stone a steady drumbeat against his temples. His body was calm, his movements precise, but inside—everything was unravelling.

When they reached his chamber, Taehyung dismissed Namjoon with a flick of his hand. The older man hesitated, crimson eyes meeting his, but bowed out without a word.

The door shut.

And Taehyung finally allowed himself to breathe.

He sat heavily at the edge of the bed, palms pressed against his knees. His chest rose and fell in sharp pulls, though he forced each breath to even itself before it could betray him. He was a prince of the Crystal Citadel. A commander. He had stared down enemies who bathed in blood. He had never flinched.

And yet a single word—pup—had shaken him more than any blade.

His jaw clenched. His mind replayed the Alpha’s voice, that guttural claim, the way the sound had stirred something deep in him. Something he couldn’t name.

Why had it felt… familiar?

Why had his chest constricted as if recognizing it?

His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. “No,” he whispered, low, dangerous. “I am not wolf. I am not his. I am not…”

But even as he spoke it, the echo of the claim lingered like a phantom hand against his skin.

He had felt nothing like this with vampires, nothing with demons. Their instincts had brushed his own, but they had never… pulled.

And that was the most terrifying part.

For one flickering moment, he had wanted to answer.

Taehyung surged to his feet and crossed to the mirror. His reflection stared back: pale skin, sharp jaw, crimson eyes, every line of him carved from discipline. His face was controlled, unreadable—yet beneath it he saw the faintest crack, the faintest question.

What if the Alpha wasn’t wrong?

What if there was something in him that had been buried, hidden, locked away before he ever had a chance to know it?

He swallowed hard, forcing the thought back into the shadows. If there was truth in it, then his entire existence had been a lie. And lies were more dangerous than curses.

---

Across the lodge, Ruhan sat before the fire in his chamber. The flames lit his scarred face in uneven gold, flickering across the fur mantle that draped his shoulders.

But he didn’t feel the heat. He felt only the restless pacing of his wolf beneath his skin.

Pup. Ours. Blood.

The growl was constant, insistent, echoing with a longing so fierce it scraped against his bones. His wolf had never been so relentless.

“Stop,” Ruhan muttered aloud, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. “He is not ours.”

But the wolf only howled back inside him, clawing, biting, insisting.

His breath came ragged. He remembered the moment Taehyung crossed the border—the way his lungs had locked, the way his wolf had surged forward like a beast starved for decades. The scent had hit him like lightning: not purely wolf, not purely anything. But familiar. Too familiar.

It had been more than two decades since he last smelled that scent.

The night everything was lost.

He closed his eyes, but memory of the same dream  betrayed him anyway: snow stained with blood, the sound of an infant’s cry swallowed by the storm, a figure vanishing across the border before he could reach them. He had buried it, sealed it, convinced himself it was dead.

And yet here it was.

Alive.

Standing before him with crimson eyes and a voice like steel.

“Impossible,” he whispered, though the word rang hollow.

Because his wolf never mistook blood.

And worse—deep in his own chest, he felt it too. The bond. The echo. A thread stretched across time, faint but unbreakable.

His fingers dug into the arms of his chair until the wood creaked. “If it’s true,” he murmured, voice shaking, “why was it kept from me? Who would dare bury this?”

The fire cracked loudly, as if mocking him with its answer: the Citadel.

---

Back in his chamber, Taehyung sat against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come.

He kept replaying Ruhan’s face—the way the Alpha’s eyes had softened, the sorrow there, the disbelief. That was what unsettled him most.

Because it hadn’t been hunger. It hadn’t been manipulation.

It had been… recognition.

The thought tightened something in his chest until he almost couldn’t breathe.

“Why?” Taehyung whispered into the darkness. His hands trembled despite himself. “Why does it feel like he knows me?”

The silence answered with a whisper. Not his wolf—he had none. Not his demon, not his vampire blood. Something else. Something buried deep, pressing against the locked door of his soul.

A whisper that trembled like a child’s voice, fragile and unfamiliar.

Mine.

Taehyung’s eyes snapped open. He curled forward, clutching his chest, as if by pressing hard enough he could crush the sound before it rooted itself.

But it lingered.

No matter how much he denied it.

---

From the shadowed corridor outside, Yoongi leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed. His sharp ears had caught pieces of Taehyung’s ragged whispers, just as earlier he had heard the Alpha muttering to his wolf.

Two men, one cursed silence between them, both unraveling in parallel.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t know the whole truth—no one did—but instinct told him the threads were already pulling together. Whether they liked it or not, prince and alpha were bound.

And when that truth broke free, it would either save them all… or tear the packs and the Citadel apart.

Yoongi pushed off the wall, moving soundlessly down the hall. The others didn’t need to know what he had overheard. Not yet.

But soon.

Very soon.

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A/N

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