19. Mira – The Alarm

1554 Words
I don’t know why my heart started racing the moment Silas stepped into my room. Maybe it was the way he paused — just for a second — as if he was absorbing not just the space, but me, or maybe it was the quiet intensity in his gaze, the way he noticed everything without making it feel like scrutiny. His eyes traced the room gently. The crescent moon carved into the headboard. The white wolf beneath it. I saw the exact moment recognition dawned on his face, reverence softening his expression. Then his gaze shifted to the corner. To the small canvas. I felt my breath hitch when I realized he had seen it—the painting of his eyes, hidden but never truly concealed. There was no embarrassment in me, but an overwhelming vulnerability. Like being seen in a way that mattered most. And then, he kissed me. I just cannot forget the panic and overwhelming feelings of longing in his eyes when he stopped after the first brush of our lips. It was so sweet that despite being so much on edge he was able to give me a choice. My heart did a slow, dizzying roll, and I found myself reaching out, my hand fisting his shirt to pull him closer. When his face moved closer, the rest of the world just... dissolved. I stopped breathing, not because I had to, but because I didn't want to miss the slightest shift in the air between us. I could see the golden flecks in his eyes and the way his expression softened into something so focused and tender. Thank Gods, he was holding me by waist else my knees would not have been able to support my weight as they felt like water. Then his lips met mine, and it was like a spark of pure warmth blooming in the centre of my chest. They were firmer than I expected but incredibly gentle, pressing against mine with a hesitation that felt like a question. The scent of him— Ocean Breeze and Citrus —swirled around me, and for those few seconds, time didn't exist. It wasn't just a kiss; it felt like a silent promise, a soft "I'm here" that echoed through every nerve in my body. When he pulled back, the cool air hitting my lips felt lonely, but seeing the dazed, happy look on his face made me want to lean right back in. The world narrowed to warmth and breath and certainty. Every doubt I’d ever carried loosened its grip. I felt safe. Chosen. Content in a way that went beyond happiness—settling deep into my bones like truth. For one suspended moment, there was no war. No Accord. No danger. Just US. Then we heard the alarm - A sharp, resonant wail echoed through the pack house, vibrating through walls and blood alike. And that shattered everything and brought us back to reality. My wolf surged forward instantly—alert and fierce. Then DanPa’s voice filled my mind, calm and commanding through the mindlink. All pack members, listen carefully. An army of deranged rogue wolves has been sighted on the northern border toward Mount Rainier. Fighters not currently on patrol—assemble immediately in front of the pack house. Non-fighters, elders, and children—proceed to your bunker rooms. This is not a drill. My heart slammed against my ribs. I turned to Silas, already moving. “Rogue deranged wolves has been sighted near the Northern border. Let’s go.” His expression shifted instantly—softness replaced by lethal focus. He closed his eyes for a moment. I grabbed my jacket meanwhile. “There are vampires also in the woods.” he said. We didn’t waste another second and we rushed into the corridor, the pack house already alive with motion—footsteps pounding, voices calling, doors opening and closing. Fear was there, yes—but so was discipline and unity. As we ran, one thought burned brighter than all the rest: Our bubble had burst and the war had come to our doorstep. ---------------- The courtyard in front of the pack house was already a controlled storm. Warriors lined up in rows—faces grim, shoulders squared, eyes sharp with purpose. The air crackled with adrenaline and magic, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin. DanPa stood at the centre, tall and unyielding, authority rolling off him in waves. At his signal, Beta Ethan and Gamma Eric moved swiftly through the ranks, distributing gears: Speakers—compact, heavy-duty, rune-etched along the edges. Weapons—oak wood blades, batons, arrows. DanPa raised his hand, and the noise died instantly. “The threat we’ve been sensing for months,” he said, voice carrying effortlessly, “has come to knock on our doorstep tonight.” A ripple went through the pack. “These are not normal rogue wolves,” he continued. “They have been turned. Corrupted with Witch and Fae magic to add in Vampiric blood.” My stomach dropped. DanPa turned slightly, gesturing toward Silas. “Your Majesty Silas will explain how we fight them.” Silas stepped forward—and gods, the shift in him was unmistakable. The warmth I had felt in my room was gone, replaced by something ancient and commanding. A true King. My King. “These hybrids are bloodlust hounds,” he said calmly. “They will be faster than wolves. Stronger and less controlled.” He lifted one of the oak weapons. “Oak disrupts the corrupted fae-vampiric weave binding them. It will not kill instantly—but it will weaken.” Then he gestured to the speakers. “These emit a fixed frequency. When activated together, it will amplify disorientation—scrambling their instincts, turning their bloodlust against their coordination.” A murmur of understanding spread. “They will overextend, and will make mistakes.” Silas continued “Use that.” His gaze sharpened. “And listen to me very carefully—do not get bitten. If you are bitten, disengage immediately and come to me. No heroics.” Silence followed. Then DanPa said simply, “Let’s go.” The pack surged forward. I moved with them—until a firm grip closed around my wrist. “Mira.” Silas whispered. He pulled me back toward the pack house, away from the flow of warriors. “What are you doing?” I snapped, anger flaring hot and immediate. “Let’s go.” “You can’t,” he said tightly. “You’re not going out there.” My chest burned. But I said calmly and firmly, “You don’t get to decide that.” His jaw clenched. “You are in more danger than anyone else.” “I know how to defend myself. I am one of the best warrior in the whole state.” I shot back. “I know and believe it, but you are in more danger because you were seen with me,” he said sharply. “Because if Lucien—or anyone working with him—knows who you are to me, you become leverage.” The word cut deep. “And I won’t be able to protect anyone,” he continued, voice low and urgent, “if I’m constantly fearing for you.” Disappointment hit harder than anger. “So I just hide?” I asked. “While everyone else bleeds?” “I need you alive,” he said fiercely. “Stay inside. Or better, please go to the bunker.” Before I could respond, DanPa appeared beside us. “What’s going on?” He asked. Silas didn’t hesitate. “Please Daniel, tell her she cannot go out there.” DanPa frowned, then said “Mira trains with my elite warriors. She is very capable of handling herself out there. If I had any doubt I myself will ask her to not go.” Pride filled me like never before. My DanPa knows me and trusts me with my ability. I smiled in relief. Silas looked at me then at DanPa, clearly frustrated. He sighed heavily “We have spent last 2 days together in the city. If anyone has seen her with me..” DanPa looked between us, understanding dawning on him. He nodded and sighed “Mira,” he said gently, “he’s right about the risk.” I shook my head. “I won’t go to the bunker.” DanPa studied me for a long moment—then nodded once. “Then you won’t.” Silas turned to him sharply. “Daniel—” “But,” DanPa continued, cutting him off, “you will not be on the front lines.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be stationed in the northern tower—inside the border. With Dr. Newman and the medic team. Ryan will be there handling tech and frequency modulation.” My anger softened into reluctant acceptance. “You’ll help us that way,” DanPa said, then looked at Silas “And will stay protected.” I looked at Silas. At the conflict in his eyes. “Fine,” I said quietly. “But I’m not hiding.” Silas exhaled slowly. “Okay, Thank you.” The night answered us with a distant howl—wrong, broken and furious.
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