Chapter 17- more downs then ups

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(Y/N) POV:

I follow Namjoon to the kitchen, knowing very well he's chosen the soft welcoming appearance of the kitchen as an ideal place to break the news. As if it'll soften the impeding blow anyhow and silently my mind begins to whir, emotions and instincts try to push out until I'm forcing them back behind a hardened wall- whatever he's going to say, I can't let instincts and emotions blind me, can't let them affect my words in response to whatever it is Namjoon has to say.

And the soft smile he shoots me does nothing to settle me because it comes accompanied with a sharpness to his earthy musk, has me stiffening into place as he sits down onto one of the stools, legs only slightly dangling; the sight is soft and startling, a shift from the strong imposing officer to this...large tentative wolf hybrid who's tail is drooped and hangs and his ears twitch with uncertainty.

If it had been any other circumstance it would've made me smile, would've made me want to encourage him to speak, to not be shy.

But now. Now it just brings a sense of foreboding, a storm on the horizon that slowly and steadily grows closer and closer, looming over me and casting shadows.

"Won't you sit down (Y/N)?" he asks softly.

I grip the bundle of clothes towards my chest, hands digging into the knitted fabric of Binnie's jumper. And make no move to approach.

Legs stiffening and tail perking up, ears straight and eyes zoning in on him.

Namjoon isn't a threat...but right now he represents danger, whatever his words are going to be, I know from the look in his eyes that he's trying to be as gentle as he can about it.

But gentleness isn't what I need. Not right now when my mind is going mad and frantic and bringing the worst scenarios to mind.

Min-Jun. The sight of his face – now healthier and happier flashes in my mind, morphs into the scared, petrified toddler he'd been when he arrived, cheeks gaunt and eyes hollowed and haunted. It makes my heart twist with agony.

"Is it Min-Jun? Has something happened to him? Is that why you need to talk to me Namjoon?" I demand, words spilling past my lips and eyes wide and searching his face, his body for any tell that his mouth won't open to give.

His face's softness crumbles for a second, the sight that makes a low wounded sound push past my lips before he's shaking his head, clambering off the stool and striding over, hands firm and strong as they grip my shoulder, his scent heavy and thick on my senses.

"No (Y/N) no. Nothing is wrong with Min-Jun. He's perfectly fine. He's safe I promise you." he says, words full of that heavy natural authority, deep with promise and sincerity, and my shoulders sag under his touch, hands fisting into the fabric.

"Then what is it Namjoon? Don't draw it out, just tell me!" I ask, voice laced with panic and alarm and rising slightly before I fall silent. This isn't the station. This isn't the centre. This is his pack house.

And right now, everyone else is asleep.

He hesitates before a look of resolve flashes across his face, hands still lightly squeezing my shoulders as he meets my eyes.

As if he needs to be giving comfort as he speaks.

"We think it's best if you stop being Min-Jun's primary caregiver." He begins, words already delivering a deep strike to my heart, head spinning slightly with the thought.

"And? What else?" I push.

"And the centre will have much tighter security. More screening and background checks of any potential foster and adoptive parents. There'll be undercover officers at the centre. And..." he trails off all of a sudden, a look of apprehension and...fear flashing in those brown eyes. Tail and ears wilting even further, ears pressed close to his head and tail limp.

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