Chapter 44 Hunger
POV: Mina (Age 18 - Five Days Into the Moonpath)
The supplies run out faster than any of us expected.
Five days into the journey and we're already rationing. Asher's careful calculations didn't account for how much energy four wolves burn traveling fast through hostile territory. Didn't account for game being scarcer this deep into Council-controlled land. Didn't account for us having to bypass several streams because Council scouts were using them as patrol routes.
We're hungry. All of us. And hunger makes everything harder.
Through the bond I feel it constantly. The Trio's wolves agitated by lack of food. Their human minds trying to stay focused despite the gnawing emptiness. Their calculations adjusting as they realize we might not make it to neutral territory before the supplies are completely gone.
Dinner tonight is sparse. What's left of the dried meat from the Academy. Some wild berries Asher found that are barely enough to qualify as food. Water from a stream we found that wasn't being watched.
Logan divides the portions with careful precision. Four equal shares set out on flat stones.
Then he takes his portion and splits it in half. Adds the extra to mine.
Through the bond I feel his wolf driving him. Mate eats first. Mate gets the best. Mate's survival matters more than his own.
I push the extra portion back toward him.
"I don't need extra," I tell him flatly.
"You're smaller," Logan says, his voice rough. "Need to maintain strength. Take it."
"We all need to maintain strength," I counter. "Equal portions. That's the only way this works."
Through the bond I feel his wolf fighting him. Feel the desperate need to provide warring with my direct refusal. Feel him hating that he can't override my choice.
He takes the portion back with visible reluctance.
Asher does the same thing. Takes his portion and tries to add half to mine. I stop him with a look.
"Equal portions," I repeat.
Jax doesn't even try. Just divides his own portion and sets half aside, not offering it to me but clearly planning to skip it himself.
I take that portion and put it back on his stone.
"All of you eat," I say. "I'm not taking extra food while you starve yourselves."
Through the bond I feel their complicated reactions. Their wolves frustrated at being denied the chance to provide. Their human minds relieved that I'm not making this worse. Their hunger making everything sharper, harder, more desperate.
We eat our equal portions in silence. It's not enough. Nowhere near enough. But it's what we have.
That night I wake to find Logan on watch, his silhouette barely visible against the dark forest.
Through the bond I feel something wrong. His energy too low. His focus slipping. His body running on empty in ways that go beyond normal hunger.
I close my eyes and focus on the connection. Follow it deeper. Feel what he's been hiding.
He's been skipping meals. Not just tonight. For days. Taking his portions and setting them aside, claiming he ate them, then discarding them when he thought no one was watching.
Giving his food to the group supply. Making sure there's enough for everyone else. Slowly starving himself while providing for the rest of us.
Through the bond I feel the moment he realizes I know. Feel his wolf's satisfaction at successful providing warring with his human mind's certainty that I'm going to be furious.
He's right about the fury.
I'm out of my bedroll and across the camp before I consciously decide to move. My power flares instinctively, silver light illuminating the clearing.
Logan turns to look at me, his blue eyes reflecting the Oracle light, his body language defensive.
"How long?" I demand.
Through the bond he knows I'm not asking about tonight. I'm asking about all of it. How many meals he's skipped. How long he's been starving himself.
"Three days," he admits quietly. "Since supplies got tight. Someone had to—"
"No one had to," I cut him off. "We agreed to equal portions. We agreed to share the burden."
"You need strength for the magic," Logan argues. "Jax needs to stay sharp for tactical decisions. Asher needs energy for the calculations. I'm just muscle. If someone goes hungry, it should be me."
Through the bond I feel his certainty. Feel him genuinely believing that his survival matters less than ours. That providing for us is more important than his own needs.
Feel his wolf absolutely convinced this is right. This is what mates do. This is what guardians do.
The rage that rises in me isn't about the mate bond. Isn't about being provided for. It's about him doing this to himself. About him deciding his life matters less. About him starving himself while I sleep warm and fed because he thinks that's his role.
"Sit down," I tell him.
My voice carries Oracle resonance. Not Silver Voice command, just natural authority. Just the weight of someone who's had enough.
Logan sits. His wolf responding to the tone before his human mind can decide whether to obey or resist.
I go to his pack and pull out the portion he set aside from dinner. The one he claimed to eat. The one he was planning to discard.
I hand it to him.
"Eat," I order.
"I'm fine," Logan starts.
"You almost collapsed taking watch," I tell him flatly. "I felt it through the bond. Your blood sugar is dangerously low. Your body is running on fumes. You're compromising your ability to protect anyone, including me, by doing this. So eat. Now."
Through the bond I feel the conflict. His wolf wanting to obey mate's command. His human mind wanting to argue that providing for others matters more. The two warring while his body screams that it needs food.
Obedience wins.
Logan takes the portion and starts eating. Slowly at first, then faster as his body recognizes food and demands more.
Through the bond I feel his wolves satisfaction at being fed. Feel his human mind's complicated mix of relief and shame. Feel him processing that I noticed, that I cared, that I'm forcing him to take care of himself.
I turn to find Jax and Asher awake now, watching from their bedrolls. Through the bond I feel their guilt. Feel them recognizing that they knew Logan was doing this. Suspected at least. Should have stopped him.
"All of you," I say, my voice carrying across the camp. "If I find out any of you are skipping meals, I will make you regret it. We survive this together or we don't survive at all. That means equal portions. That means everyone eats. That means no one gets to decide their life matters less."
Through the bond I feel them processing. Feel them understanding that this isn't about dominance or control. It's about responsibility. About recognizing that we're bound together and that means their survival matters to me whether I want it to or not.
"You're our Oracle," Jax says quietly. "Protecting you is—"
"Your job because prophecy said so," I finish. "I know. But protecting you is mine because the bond said so. Because if you die, I feel it. Because we're stuck with each other and that goes both ways."
The realization sits between us. Heavy and unavoidable.
The mate bond doesn't just make them protect me. It makes me feel everything they feel. Every injury. Every hunger. Every moment of pain.
If they destroy themselves providing for me, I carry that destruction too.
Through the bond I feel them recognizing it. Feel the shift in their understanding. Feel them seeing that command isn't about dominance. It's about responsibility for what the bond makes us to each other.
Logan finishes eating. His body already responding to the food, energy returning, the dangerous weakness receding.
"We need more supplies," Asher says, shifting to practical mode. "Game is scarce but not nonexistent. We can hunt tomorrow. Supplement what we have."
"Council scouts are patrolling the area," Jax adds. "Hunting means exposure. Means making noise. Means potentially drawing attention we can't afford."
"We don't have a choice," I tell them. "We hunt or we starve. We'll just have to be careful about it."
Through the bond I feel their agreement. Feel them calculating risks. Feel their wolves settling now that mate has taken charge, has asserted dominance not through force but through care.
I go back to my bedroll but don't sleep. Just lie there feeling them through the bond. Feeling their hunger slowly easing as Logan's body processes the food. Feeling their determination to find more supplies tomorrow. Feeling their complicated recognition that we're actually in this together now.
Whether we wanted to be or not.
The bond makes it true.
Dawn comes too early.
We break camp quickly, eating the last of our supplies in equal portions that I watch all three of them actually consume. No one tries to skip meals. No one tries to give me extra.
Through the bond I feel their wolves calmer. Their human minds focused on the hunt ahead.
We move through the forest with careful silence, looking for game trails, for signs of prey, for anything we can hunt without drawing Council attention.
Jax spots the deer first. Young buck, grazing in a clearing about a hundred yards ahead.
Logan shifts without discussion, his black wolf moving with practiced silence. The hunt is quick and efficient. The deer doesn't suffer.
We're processing the kill, dividing the meat, when I feel it through the bond.
Not from the Trio. From something else. Something external.
Wolves. Multiple wolves. Moving with military precision through the forest around us.
Council scouts.
And they're heading directly toward where we're standing over a fresh kill with blood on our hands and nowhere to hide.
Through the bond I feel the Trio's immediate spike of adrenaline. Feel them recognizing the same thing I do.
We're about to be found.