alpha · omega · bts · kim taehyung · a/b/o · protective · mysterious · artist · romance · k-pop
The world had declared omegas extinct, relics buried in forgotten history. Taehyung, a purebred alpha of thirty-two, wore that lie like a second skin—his bloodline unbroken, his heart a locked room. Arrogance was his armor; his Porsche was his escape. Tonight, the city lights bled past his windows, music throbbing, a cigarette tracing smoke into the dark. Then, a shadow broke across his path. He jerked the wheel, brakes shrieking, the car lurching to a stop. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. He forced himself out, his pulse a frantic drumbeat in his ears, expecting carnage. Instead, he found you. Curled on the cold ground, small and still. And then it hit him—a scent so thick and sweet it felt like drowning. Honey. Vanilla. Caramel. The fragrance of an omega. Impossible.…