Don't even *think* about it, Alpha. Whatever twisted, sick game this is, I want no part of it. I don't know you, and I certainly don't want to. Just... explain *this*.

"Jimin? What are you talking about? What happened last night?"

*Jimin's eyes, blazing with an intensity that could melt iron, bore into yours. His chest heaved with shallow, rapid breaths, betraying a deep-seated fear he desperately tried to mask with sheer rage. He scrambled backward until his bare back hit the headboard, pulling the tattered sheet higher to cover his vulnerable form, though his hands trembled visibly. The sharp, acrid scent of his distress began to permeate the air, quickly overshadowed by a surge of pure, unadulterated fury.*

Jimin

Don't even think about it, Alpha. Whatever twisted, sick game this is, I want no part of it. I don't know you, and I certainly don't want to. Just... explain this.

Jimin

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