Chapter 2- Unexplained Tension
1110 Words
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Mikaela looked up just as a tall figure filled the doorway to the east wing, broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame. Dark hair, familiar eyes, the same steady presence she’d known her entire life.
Eirik.
Her older brother’s gaze swept the room in a single glance—beds lined and ready, supplies stacked neatly—before settling on her.
And narrowing.
“You’re tense,” he said.
Mikaela blinked. “Hello to you too.”
Calypso muttered, “Told you,” under her breath.
Eirik crossed the room, stopping in front of Mikaela. He didn’t touch her, didn’t crowd her—he didn’t need to. He’d always been good at reading what wasn’t being said.
“You’ve been like this all morning,” he continued. “Distracted. Jumping at every noise. That’s not like you.”
“I’m fine,” Mikaela said quickly.
Eirik’s mouth twitched. “You’ve said that since we were pups. It’s never been true.”
Mikaela sighed and turned back to the supply cart, busying herself unnecessarily.
“The Red Moon pack has everyone on edge,” she offered. “It’s nothing.”
Eirik studied her for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. “This isn’t pack tension.”
Calypso raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet, clearly interested.
“This feels…” Eirik hesitated, searching for the right word. “Personal.”
Mikaela’s heart skipped.
Eirik lowered his voice. “Are you in trouble?”
“No,” she said immediately.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?” His gaze softened. “You feel off, Mika. Like you’re not entirely here.”
The words struck deeper than she expected.
She hesitated, then said carefully, “Do you ever feel like something’s pulling at you? Like you don’t know what it is, only that it won’t leave you alone?”
Eirik’s expression changed—not alarmed, not confused.
Interested.
“That depends,” he said slowly. “Is it coming from inside you… or outside?”
Mikaela swallowed.
“Outside,” she admitted.
Silence settled between them.
Eirik straightened, posture subtly alert. “Has someone been contacting you?”
Calypso shot Mikaela a look that said now or never.
“It’s nothing dangerous,” Mikaela said quickly. “Just… someone I talk to.”
“How long?” Eirik asked.
Mikaela winced. “A while.”
“A while is not an answer.”
“Four years.”
Calypso sucked in a breath.
Eirik didn’t react immediately. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “And you’ve never met them.”
“No.”
“But you feel them,” he said quietly.
Mikaela looked up sharply. “How did you—”
“You’re my sister,” he said simply. “And a wolf. I can feel when something’s tugging at your instincts.”
Her chest tightened. “I don’t know what it is. I just know it makes it hard to focus. Hard to breathe sometimes.”
Eirik studied her, eyes thoughtful rather than angry. “Has it grown stronger recently?”
Mikaela nodded.
“Good,” he said.
Calypso blinked. “Good?”
“It means something’s changing,” Eirik replied. “Bonds don’t stir without reason.”
Mikaela’s pulse spiked. “You think it’s a bond.”
“I think,” Eirik said carefully, “that if it were nothing, you wouldn’t feel like you’re bracing for impact.”
He stepped closer and rested a hand briefly on her shoulder, grounding. “Whatever this is, you don’t face it alone. And if someone is pulling at you without explanation, I want to know who.”
Mikaela managed a small smile. “Protective much?”
Eirik huffed. “It’s my job.”
His gaze flicked to the phone still clutched in her hand.
“And Mika?” he added. “If this person is part of the Red Moon pack…”
Her breath caught.
“…then tomorrow might answer more questions than you’re ready for.”
The weight of his words settled heavy in her chest.
The rest of the evening passed in steady, purposeful motion.
Mikaela and Calypso worked through the hospital wing side by side, finishing what they’d started. Extra beds were assembled and lined along the walls. Supply cabinets were restocked—bandages, antiseptics, pain suppressants, herbal poultices. Calypso double-checked inventory while Mikaela logged everything carefully, her handwriting neat and precise despite the lingering buzz in her chest.
By the time they finished, the east wing looked ready—quiet, sterile, prepared for pain it hadn’t yet seen.
Mikaela stepped back and surveyed their work, exhaustion settling into her bones. “I think that’s everything.”
Calypso glanced around, then nodded. “For now. Tomorrow will be chaos.”
Mikaela huffed softly. “Comforting.”
They cleaned up in silence after that, washing their hands and storing the last of the supplies. Outside, night had fully settled over the pack grounds, the moon casting pale light through the tall windows. Mikaela felt it then—the familiar pull of tiredness, heavy and unavoidable.
Calypso stretched, arms raised above her head. “We should sleep. Your dad will have us on our feet before sunrise.”
Mikaela hesitated, fingers brushing her phone in her pocket.
Calypso noticed immediately. “No doom-scrolling,” she warned. “You need rest.”
“I wasn’t—”
Calypso leveled her with a look.
Mikaela sighed. “Fine.”
They left the hospital together, the cool night air brushing against Mikaela’s skin as they crossed the courtyard toward their shared quarters. The pack grounds were unusually quiet, as if the land itself were holding its breath.
Inside, Calypso kicked off her boots and collapsed onto her bed. “Remind me why we signed up for this again?”
Mikaela smiled faintly as she did the same. “Because we care.”
“Because we’re idiots,” Calypso corrected, already half-asleep.
Mikaela changed into sleep clothes, moving slowly, deliberately—like if she kept busy, her thoughts wouldn’t wander. She set her phone on the nightstand facedown and slid beneath the covers.
For a long moment, she stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow would bring blood and pain. Orders barked through the halls. Warriors she’d never met and injuries she’d never seen.
And maybe—just maybe—answers she wasn’t ready for.
Her chest tightened as she closed her eyes, instincts restless even in stillness.
Somewhere beyond the pack borders, someone felt closer than they should have.
Mikaela exhaled and let sleep take her, unaware that by this time tomorrow, nothing would feel distant again.
- Writer
