MARKED BY THE FERAL ALPHA KING

5 - The Alarm Bell

The alarm bell began before dawn, a sound like metal tearing the sky in half.

One clang, then another, and another—louder, faster, until the air itself shook with it.

I was on my feet before my mind caught up, the cup of tea Mira had left for me spilling across my charts. My stomach lurched at the sound, because that bell was never for drills. It was only rung when the pack was in mortal danger.

The infirmary doors burst open. A soldier staggered in, his face pale beneath streaks of soot. “Raiders!” he shouted. “They’ve broken through the east gate—” His voice cracked on the last word before he crumpled onto the nearest cot.

The smell hit first—smoke, and something sharper beneath it, like scorched fur. Panic threaded through the groans of the wounded who were still here from yesterday. Some struggled to sit up, reaching for weapons they didn’t have.

“Lie down!” I barked. “Anyone who rips their stitches, I’ll personally sew your mouth shut next!”

That stilled them. Mostly.

“Mira, herbs. The calming draught,” I snapped.

She darted to the shelves, eyes wide. “Selene—if they’re inside the gates—”

“Then we’ll hold here.” My hands moved without thought: fresh bandages, tourniquets ready, knives laid out. The room hummed with controlled chaos. I could feel my heart pounding, but I clung to the rhythm of work. It was the only thing that kept the fear from swallowing me.

Another crash sounded outside. Shouts, howls, the clash of steel. The ground itself seemed to shake with the weight of paws and boots.

The door banged again—two more dragged in, one with his arm nearly hacked through, dangling by sinew. Blood sprayed across my apron as I pressed a cloth against it.

“Hold him steady!” I ordered, voice sharp. The warrior bucked, teeth gritted. “You want to live? Then stop thrashing!”

He obeyed. Barely.

The bell kept tolling, faster and faster, until it seemed less like a warning and more like a scream.

Mira’s face was chalk-white as she ground herbs, but her hands didn’t falter. She was learning. Fear didn’t stop us anymore—it simply fueled us.

I stitched until my fingers cramped, binding wounds as fast as they opened. But for every man dragged in, two more screams echoed from outside. We were being overrun.

Then came the smell of fire. Smoke curled through the shutters, stinging my eyes. The room filled with coughs and cries.

“Selene!” Mira coughed, clutching my arm. “We have to move them—”

Before I could answer, a crash shook the far wall. Dust rained down. Somewhere too close, something enormous roared. Not wolf. Not man. Something else.

Panic ripped through the infirmary. The wounded tried to rise, but they were too weak. Mira stared at me, waiting. Always waiting for me to decide.

“We can’t defend them here,” I said hoarsely. “If they breach—”

The decision made itself.

“Mira, take anyone who can walk. Lead them west, toward the river. Keep low.”

Her eyes widened. “What about you?”

“I’ll follow. Go.”

I didn’t wait to see if she argued. I grabbed herbs, a pouch of salves, and a knife sharper than the rest. My hands shook only once, when I looked back at the line of cots, the faces pale in lamplight. They needed me—but if I stayed, I’d die, and dead healers save no one.

The bell tolled again, closer now.

I shoved open the back door and stumbled into the open air. Smoke smeared the horizon, and the sky glowed faint orange. Wolves clashed in the streets, claws raking, teeth snapping, steel flashing in between.

The screams cut deeper than any knife.

I darted between buildings, pressing against walls, moving where the smoke hid me. A shadow barreled past, two wolves locked in a vicious tumble. Another ran down a soldier, jaws snapping on bone. Blood sprayed the cobblestones.

I bit back a cry and bolted for the trees.

The forest loomed, black and endless. My lungs burned, my heart thrashed, but the instinct to flee was stronger than fear. If I could reach the deeper woods, maybe I’d vanish from the slaughter.

Branches tore at my arms as I pushed through undergrowth, skirts snagging on thorns. The bell was still ringing, but muffled now, as if I’d stuffed it into my own chest.

Somewhere behind me, a scream cut short. I stumbled, caught myself, and forced my legs to move faster.

The ground dipped. I nearly fell over a body sprawled in the dirt. A young soldier, throat gashed wide. His eyes stared at nothing, lips still parted as if he’d tried to call for help.

My knees hit the earth before I realized what I was doing. “No,” I whispered, pressing my hand to the wound, though there was no blood left to staunch. “No, no—”

Another sound tore through the trees. Heavy. Animal. Close.

I jerked my head up.

Between the pines, something moved. Too fast. Too large.

I scrambled backward, tripping over roots, and forced myself to run again. Branches whipped my face, my breath came in ragged gasps, but I didn’t stop. The feeling of being hunted was so sharp it nearly cut me in half.

Something snarled behind me, so deep it shook the leaves.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. If I looked, I’d fall.

The trees thickened. My lungs burned raw. My legs screamed. Somewhere to my left, I heard a crash of branches, as though the forest itself was tearing apart.

“Goddess,” I panted. “Please—”

My foot caught on a root. I went sprawling, palms scraping dirt and stone. Pain flared up my arms.

The growl came again. Closer.

I pushed myself up, stumbled forward, forced myself to run. Blood smeared my palms, sweat stung my eyes, but terror kept my body moving when it should’ve collapsed.

Somewhere in the smoke-filled distance, the bell rang again.

I didn’t know if it was warning me or tolling my death.

But I knew one thing with certainty: I wasn’t alone in the forest anymore.

Something was hunting me.

And it was getting closer.