(A/N): for those of y'all confused why I added this chapter, see the newest 'Re-vamp' chapter for details!

I continued to wolf down the turkey, aware of the odd glances on me. I was particularly aware of Zion's gaze burning holes into the side of my head, but in all honesty, I didn't care. He could go to hell for all I cared.

The dining hall resumed its normal buzz, and for many minutes, everything felt fine. That was until Azriel stood up very abruptly, his hands braced on the table before him. His face had gone entirely pale, and my heart dropped to my stomach when I saw he was shaking.

The dining hall had gone wholly silent, all eyes focused on our Alpha. After many moments of tense silence, Azriel's head snapped up, his eyes wide and fearful. "Eastern Wolves," he said. "And a lot of them..."

Zion stood up in an instant, his clattering plate thunderous in the near-silent hall. We could all feel it: that dread, the wondering if any of us would get out alive.

"Omegas, head to the underground!" Zion barked. "Do not let anyone in unless you are one-hundred percent sure it is one of us. Keep quiet and keep low."

Everyone at the Omega table stood. I was rooted to the spot, shocked. Half of me knew what was happening, but half of me refused to believe it. An attack, already? It can't be!

Olcan grasped me by the arm and hauled me upright, dragging me towards the group of Omegas who were already making haste towards the doors. I noticed how a few of them shot me quizzical looks, wondering why I wasn't staying back with the Thetas, and my cheeks burned with shame. I should be staying back with the Thetas, I should be on the front lines. 

But I wasn't. I wasn't ready.

Pathetic.

It seemed Azriel had recovered from his shock, for his face was less pale, and he looked a tad more composed. It made me wonder just how many enemy wolves there were for him to blanch like that.  "Thetas, Gammas, resume your positions around the court," he barked. "Protect it at all costs. Remember your training, and keep a level head!"

I was already halfway out the doors by the time the Thetas stood. The last thing I saw was the doubt that flashed through Azriel's eyes, the question that resonated with all of us: how many will die today? The thought made my skin crawl.

I allowed myself to be pulled along by Olcan, who was definitely the most composed out of the three of us. Raina looked about as shell-shocked as me, and Ulric and Susi looked to be shaking. I tried to control my breathing as the group of Omegas walked into the courtyard, one of them undoing the latch to a wooden trapdoor set into the ground. I didn't have much time to look down the hole before I was dragged in. It was dark, so dark I could barely see an inch in front of me, and if it weren't for Olcan's guiding arm I probably would have slipped down the wet, cobbled stairs. 

I let out a small sigh of relief as the floor leveled out, the relief was short-lived. It stunk of mildew and moisture, and with no light to see, I felt as though I were suffocating. 

I heard the sound of a large oak door opening, and then the sound of it closing a few moments later. I assumed we were now in a room, locked away from the conflict raging above us.

We waited in dreading silence, our hearts racing as our ears strained for any noises above. It was quiet in here -- far too quiet. All I could hear were my racing thoughts. People are dying up there, they kept saying. And where are you, their so-called saving-grace? You're cowering in a cobblestone bunker!

It wasn't long before I felt tears streaming down my face. I kept repeating Zion's words, over and over: 'For every second you fail to improve, you are risking the life of your comrades.'

He was right. Hell, the bastard was right. I should have kept training with Zion. If I had, maybe I would have discovered my ability. If I had, maybe I would be up there fighting alongside my comrades right now, instead of cowering in this bunker. I shouldn't have let my pride get the better of me. The blood of those who perished today would be on my hands, because I failed; because I failed them. 

We sat in that bunker for what felt like an eternity, and if none of the enemies would come down to kill me, then I was almost sure the anticipation would. Finally, after much waiting, the oak door opened, and with it came light.

I bit back a sob.

Azriel stood there, his face scratched and slightly beaten, but he looked mostly well. He held a torch in his hand, illuminating our wary faces. My relief quickly turned to dread when I saw the stone-cut look on his face, the eyes that holstered so much anguish and rage. 

Thirty people. Thirty people had died that day.

And I felt the weight of all of them.