Restless minds
The air in the bunker seemed thicker every day. It wasn’t just the lack of circulation or the smell of canned food overpowering the senses—it was the certainty that their time was running out. The stock of supplies Kael had calculated to last for months was already showing signs of collapse. The shelves emptied as if the shadows themselves were eating during the night.
Kael paced back and forth, his firm stride trying to mask his unease. He looked at every face around him: some avoided his gaze, others kept their heads down, as if waiting for responsibility to fall on someone else.
“If we don’t go out to get more food, we’re going to die in here.” Raddick’s voice broke the silence. He was one of the wolves who handled the rear guard, used to dealing with safe routes and external protection.
“And if we go out, we might die out there,” Marek replied, sitting with his back against the concrete wall, arms crossed. “You know they’re hunting.”
The word they hung in the air, heavy with fear.
Kael took a deep breath.
“I’ll split the group. Half stays to protect those who can’t fight. The other half comes with me to get supplies.”
There was no applause, no cries of support, only the dry sound of boots shuffling and weapons being checked. It was na unspoken consensus: none of them wanted to be in that group, but no one dared refuse the Alpha.
They left through the secondary entrance, a narrow tunnel leading to a slope covered with pines. The cold wind cut like a blade, and the distant sound of snapping branches seemed to follow their steps.
Kael led, scenting the air, every muscle ready to react. Behind him, Raddick and three other wolves moved in formation. The mission was simple: reach na old warehouse where they might find canned goods and maybe ammunition.
But nothing was simple now.
The first sign came as a strange scent on the wind—a mix of fresh blood and burnt fur. Kael raised his hand, stopping the group. Then they heard it: light footsteps, almost imperceptible, circling them.
“Keep walking, but slowly,” Kael murmured, his eyes scanning the trees.
There was no time. The attack came too fast. Two dark figures appeared on the right, while three more came from the left. Wolves, but not from Kael’s pack—their eyes gleamed with a hunger that wasn’t just for flesh.
Raddick reacted first, shooting one of them. The gunshot echoed, but the sound didn’t scare the others off. A second later, a howl tore through the air—the call of the hunt.
Kael leapt on one attacker, sinking his claws into its neck, but felt the impact of another slamming into his shoulder. Behind him, he heard Korrin’s scream—not a battle cry, but a cry of pain.
The smell of blood spread fast. Two of his fell, the ground soaking red. Kael knew they couldn’t win by numbers, so he roared:
“Fall back! Now!”
The survivors ran through the forest, leaving their comrades’ bodies behind. The rival wolves didn’t chase far—perhaps satisfied with the carnage left behind.
Meanwhile, in the bunker, the atmosphere had become unbearable. Those who had stayed behind couldn’t sleep. The lack of news gnawed at their morale, and every creak in the concrete made hearts race.
Nara, a young wolf, trembled in a corner.
“They… they’re not coming back, are they?” she whispered.
Marek, who had remained in the shelter, didn’t answer. He sat with a weapon in his lap, his gaze fixed on something far beyond the walls.
In the distance, there was a muffled echo of something that could have been the wind… or could have been howls.
When the secondary door finally opened, relief lasted only a second. Kael walked in first, his shoulder injured and his gaze dark. Behind him came only Raddick and another wolf. Three had left. Two returned.
“Where are Korrin and Jace?” someone asked, but no one answered.
Kael just walked past them and dropped a backpack on the floor. Little food, less ammunition than they had hoped for. And dry blood staining the zipper.
The silence grew even heavier.
That night, no one slept. Outside, the sound of enemy howls seemed closer than ever. Inside, fear had already turned into something more corrosive: doubt about who would survive until morning.
Kael, sitting alone in the hallway, knew the hunt wasn’t over. In fact, it had just begun. He had to decide whether to try for a truce, but the internet was down. The only way would be to ask for peace in person, but it wouldn’t be easy to get out there without being torn apart.
Kael remained still, his gaze locked on her, while the dense air of the bunker pressed in on them both.
“You think you can look at me like that?” His voice was deep, dragging out each word.
She didn’t answer. Her quick breathing betrayed her nervousness, but there was something else—a silent challenge Kael wasn’t used to receiving.
He stepped forward. The sound of his boots on the floor echoed like a warning.
The omega backed up, her back hitting the cold concrete. Kael raised his hand and gripped her shoulder, firm enough for her to feel the strength he could unleash.
“In here, there is no equality,” he said, low but with the hardness of a blow.
His eyes roamed over her face as if searching for a way to break through the resistance she found there. Then, slowly, he released her shoulder and stepped away, leaving the weight of her hand behind.
His eyes scanned her face as if searching for a way to break the resistance he found there. Then, slowly, he released her shoulder and stepped away, leaving behind the weight of the threat.
She didn’t move, even after he stepped away. The faint tremor in her hands betrayed her, but her eyes still burned with defiance. Kael turned his back, not because he was finished, but because he knew he’d need her will intact for what was coming. Outside, the howls drew nearer, scraping at the edge of the night. Inside, the bunker felt smaller, as if the walls were inching closer. Every breath carried the weight of choices that could not be undone. Kael’s mind circled one thought: survival would demand more than strength—it would demand obedience, and obedience would not come easily.