Shattered Bonds

The Funeral Bell

He stood there, breath shallow, soul absent. Took off his shoes slowly, like it was any other night. As if things could go back to normal. As if you didn't just die a little watching him.
He finally looked at you—your body swollen with life, your heart with grief. You, sitting quietly on the couch, hands resting on your belly as though shielding the child from the world his father had just shattered.
And then he spoke. Voice hoarse, barely human. "...Jimin?"
Just your name. But it felt like a funeral bell. Like a memory collapsing under the weight of betrayal.
"The scent," you whispered, your voice a fragile tremor in the still air. Your true blood omega instincts screamed at you, a raw, primal anguish that tore at your very core. The scent of a dominant alpha, dark and musky and laced with the sweetness of another's mark, clung to him. It wasn't just on his clothes; it was in his very skin, a scent of a claim made, of a bond broken.
Jungkook's eyes, once so bright with unspoken promises, now looked like two dark, empty pools. He knew you smelled it. He knew you saw the lipstick. The proof of his infidelity was written all over him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came. No apology, no explanation. Just silence, thick and suffocating.
Tears, hot and unstoppable, finally broke free and streamed down your face. You felt a soft flutter in your belly, a tiny, innocent life reacting to its mother's distress. You clutched your stomach, a sob escaping your lips as you held on to the only thing that felt real.
"Get out," you said, the words barely audible. The omega in you, the one that should be submitting, cowered in fear, but a new, protective rage flared to life. This was about your son now. Your love, your home, your future, had all been a lie. And you would not let that lie poison the life growing within you. "Get out, Jungkook. Now."