Runt [ManxMan]

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dax had only just reached his office when a commotion downstairs drew his attention.

He considered ignoring it, but this seemed different than the usual disturbances, so he turned in the doorway and made his way back to the top of the staircase where he saw everyone in sight on the floor below was in a panic, running around with no clear pattern or direction in mind. Though he was loathe to descend into the chaos, he saw no other way to determine what was happening, so he took the stairs two at a time until he stood in the center of the storm.

Even in their panic, the pack instinctively avoided straying too close to their alpha, so there was a bubble of calm surrounding him. Still, he was close enough to hear their chatter, the frantic voices crying to each other, some with the same questions Dax had but most asking where their loved ones were, or where the safe room was. This last question was what caused Dax to freeze, tensing as he realized the implications of that. He didn't need to hear anything else. He knew what was happening.

There were rogues in his territory.

There hadn't been a large-scale rogue attack in thirteen years, not since the day they'd taken Chase in as a member of their pack, the day Dax's mother was taken from him. Thirteen years since anyone in the pack had needed a safe room, enough time for many to have forgotten where it was, to have forgotten the protocols in place to help them in these situations.

But not Dax. It was more than his responsibility as alpha that led him to review the protocols every year for the last thirteen years. It was fear, fear that when the next attack came, people would die, people Dax could have saved if he'd only known how.

It took two loud claps to draw the attention of the pack around him, and upon noticing the presence of their alpha, they fell silent and still. Dax marveled at this trust, this ability to set aside their terror to listen to what he had to say because they believed in him, believed he would be able to save them. He could only hope he could. He knew there would be losses today, but if they acted fast, they would be minimal.

"All civilians, head immediately to the safe room in the basement, from the staircase near the kitchens," he said, his voice loud to carry through the space, but calm as ever. He had years of experience hiding his feelings from the world, and it was comforting to know even with the raging storm in his mind, there were no outward signs of his fear. "You can meet with your loved ones there, after you're safe. All warriors proceed to the border. Hunters, do what you can to help people toward the safe room. Stay away from the battle for now but be prepared to join if we need the manpower." When the crowd didn't disperse, he added, "This is not a drill. All our lives hang in the balance. Get moving."

There was no more hesitance, but the chaos that ensued was far more controlled than it had been before. Most of the group turned toward the back of the pack house, where the kitchen and the door to safety were. The rest dispersed, many leaving either to join the front line or find those who had been trapped outside or in fringe buildings when the attack began and help them to the safe room.

Dax had to step aside to allow a large group of omegas past. They clung to each other, casting fearful looks at the other members of the pack, and gave the alpha a wide berth as they slipped past him. He hated that he made them uncomfortable, hated even more that they were in danger, but what he hated most was that the sight of them made him think of another omega, and that he quickly filled Dax's thoughts and worries.

As if on cue, a trio rounded the corner, two smaller males and one larger one, all very familiar to the alpha. Chase, Mason, and Mav. The latter was following the brothers, his gaze casting warily about for threats while the brothers argued, not with words but with their hands, Mason gesturing animatedly while his brother pushed his hands away and grabbed his wrist to drag him forward.