Sera lay awake in the dark, eyes open to the faint glow from the massive moon outside her bedroom windows.

It hung like some type of nightlight inside a child’s bedroom.

And it was enough to drive her completely insane.

The men’s breathing marked the room in uneven rhythms.

Zubair sat in the chair nearest the door, his chin tucked, body angled like he hadn’t allowed himself full sleep. Lachlan sprawled on the rug with one arm flung across his face, legs spread careless as always. Elias had made himself small, curled with a blanket against the base of the couch, glasses folded neat beside him. Alexei had taken the couch itself, boots off, knife still tucked within easy reach.

They slept.

She couldn’t.

Her stomach hurt.

Not sharp, not hollow — heavy, aching, like her ribs pressed too close together. It had been weeks since she’d fed properly, since blood had coated her tongue instead of just brackish water and tasteless MRE paste. The creature pressed against her ribs, restless.

Need meat. Raw. Red.

She turned her head toward the moonlight glow, letting the smell of tomato leaves and damp soil reach her from the greenhouse surround her. The human part of her wanted to be comforted. The creature mocked it. Leaves are what our prey eat. They don’t feed us. Not anymore. Too long pretending.

She clenched her jaw. They’d watched her eat eggs and tomato slices earlier, even popcorn.

She’d made herself chew and swallow, made herself smile when Lachlan cracked jokes about fish-jar water. But the taste had turned her stomach. Her tongue had curled against the salt and grease. She could still feel it sitting there, wrong, heavy.

The creature pressed harder. Now.

Her fingers tightened against her coat. She listened again—Zubair’s shallow almost-sleep, Lachlan’s uneven snores, Elias’s soft hum of breath, Alexei’s deeper rhythm. None shifted. None stirred.

Slowly, she sat up. She eased her coat on, more out of habit now than from necessity, and slipped gloves into her belt. Next, she slid her knife into its sheath at her hip. The rope coiled on the peg caught her eye. She left it. Too loud. She’d come back.

She knew her way home.

She padded barefoot across the rug until the cold of the concrete touched her soles. The window frame complained when she eased it open, but she braced her weight against it, muffling the sound. The seam split with a hiss. Cold air shoved inside.

She dropped through, boots kissing the ice without echo.

The world outside was stripped bare, scoured clean by the storm.

There were no tracks. No landmarks. Just the ridges and valleys of wind-carved snow and the brutal glare of moonlight on white. Her breath curled fast in the air.

The compass had been right. There was no north. Just this—flat, endless, directionless.

Her creature hummed approval. Good. Pure. Only hunt.

The prints from earlier were half-drifted but not gone. Deep enough that even the storm hadn’t erased them. She followed.

Boots squeaked faintly against the crust. The ice groaned once beneath her and went silent. She moved quick, body loose, shoulders low, letting instinct guide her steps. She’d always been quiet, but this was different—her creature took the lead, adjusting her balance without thought.

She walked until the smell reached her.

Blood. Metallic. Old but not gone. It made her teeth ache.

The carcass lay half-buried in drifted snow: a seal, split from throat to belly. Ribs cracked wide, organs half-torn. Frost crusted the edges of the wound white. The predator that had done it hadn’t eaten everything. Maybe it had been full. Maybe it had been disturbed.

Her knees bent before she told them to. Her gloves were off before she noticed. Her hands burned in the air but she didn’t care. She dug through the frozen edges, found the soft meat still red at the core.

The first bite made her whole body go still. Not from disgust. From relief.

Her teeth sank deep, blood slicking her tongue, and the ache in her ribs loosened all at once. Heat spread from her chest outward, filling her arms, her hands, down her legs. The hunger eased. The creature purred, satisfied. Better. Right. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

She ate quickly, efficiently. Not messy, not animal. Just fast. Enough to quiet the hollow in her chest. Enough to remind her body what it needed.

Her human side tried to speak—this was wrong, she should stop, they’d smell it on her breath. The creature rolled over it. Stronger now. Pack needs strong center. Feed first. Law holds.

She licked her fingers clean, wiped the rest on the snow, and tugged her gloves back on before the cold could take them.

The carcass steamed faintly where she’d disturbed it. Prints led away, farther out into the white. She thought about following them. She thought about what kind of thing could leave a seal half-eaten like scraps. Her creature whispered, Bigger prey. Hunt later.

She turned back.

The tower looked small at first, just a black seam against the horizon, then grew into the jagged teeth of its ruined edge. She climbed fast, slipped through the window, and shut it behind her. Warmth pressed close again, thick with soil and lemon leaves.

The men hadn’t moved. Lachlan still sprawled, Elias curled, Zubair hunched in his chair.

Only Alexei.

He had turned on the couch, eyes half-lidded, watching.

She froze.

Blood still clung at the back of her throat. Her gloves hid the stains on her skin, but not the way her shoulders had eased, not the faint tremor in her jaw.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just let his gaze rest on her a beat too long, as if he could smell what she’d done. Then his eyes shut. His head tipped back. He breathed slow again.

She stood there until her creature hummed in her bones. Seen. Accepted.

She sat against the wall, coat still on, gloves tight around her fists. Her chest was quiet for the first time in weeks. Her hunger stilled.

Tomorrow they would go back out together. They would trace more prints, test more ice, drink brackish water and chew tasteless food.

But tonight, she had fed.

And only Alexei knew.