The Unexpected

Septa

After changing into a suitable outfit, Septa stood before the mirror and adjusted her clothes. She was about to leave when something unusual caught her attention.

Her eyes.

They were brown, or at least they had always been. Yet, under the light coming through the window, she noticed a faint blue tint around her irises.

Leaning closer to the mirror, she tilted her head, trying to get a better look. The blue was subtle, but it was definitely there. She had never noticed anything like it before.

"Septa!"

Her mother's voice rang through the house, making her straighten.

"Jetson is here to see you!"

Septa took one last look at her reflection before leaving the room.

In her previous life, he had promised to stay by her side after the apocalypse started. They had gone on to become more than friends and eventually, mates. She had trusted him enough to believe he genuinely cared about her. That trust had made his betrayal all the more painful.

She hurried downstairs and stepped outside.

His car was parked in front of the house, and he stood beside it, looking as relaxed as ever.

"Finally," he said when he saw her. "I was beginning to think you'd make me wait all morning."

Septa's eyes settled on his face. The sight of him stirred a bitterness she struggled to contain. She could still remember him standing behind those gates, watching as the mutants tore into her.

Yet here he was, smiling as though nothing had happened.

She forced herself to approach him.

"Ready?" he asked, opening the passenger door.

She nodded and got in.

The apocalypse hadn't begun, and she wasn't ready to expose herself. Until she understood what was happening to her and had secured her plans, Jetson would see no difference in her.

As he drove away, Septa watched the familiar streets pass by before turning to him.

"Jetson, do you genuinely consider me your friend?"

He glanced at her briefly. "Of course. What kind of question is that?"

"I just want to know if you mean it. Sometimes, I wonder whether you're only being nice to me for fun."

He laughed. "Septa, you think too much. You know I'd never do that to you."

His smug expression remained as he returned his attention to the road, completely at ease with the lie leaving his mouth.

Septa's fingers curled against her lap.

She wanted to confront him. She wanted to ask how he could stand there and watch her die after everything she had believed about him. But he had done nothing wrong in this lifetime. Not yet.

And she had no intention of warning him that she remembered the future. She simply looked ahead and stared at anything else other than his face.

"Alright," she replied, offering him a small smile.

He seemed satisfied with her answer and continued driving.

When they arrived at the grain market, Jetson pulled over.

"Will you be alright on your own?" he asked.

"Yes. I won't be long."

"Okay. Call me when you're done, and I'll come get you."

"I will. Thanks for the ride."

Septa waved as he drove away, maintaining her smile until his car disappeared into the traffic.

Then the smile fell from her face.

She dipped her hand into her pocket to pull out a wad of cash. She had saved that money for years, hoping to use it to enrol herself in the Dandelion College. Even though she was born a weakling, she had once believed that studying there might give her a chance to improve her life.

Weaklings were born without powers or the physical strength possessed by Lycans. Unlike Dandelions, who could learn to cast special spells, they had no abilities to develop. Still, Septa had clung to the hope that the college might offer her an opportunity.

Not anymore. There would be no school to attend in thirty days and she had to prepare for it.

Taking the money from her bag, she counted it once before putting it away. Every coin would go toward food and other supplies she needed to survive. Her dream of attending the college could wait. If she survived the apocalypse, she would have the rest of her life to decide what she wanted to do.

For now, survival came first.

She made her purchases at the grain market, keeping to the items she could afford and arranging to transport them. Once she had what she needed, she left the market and made her way toward the bunker.

By the time she arrived at the abandoned military installation, she was eager to see how much of the bunker remained intact.

She approached the entrance, expecting an empty facility.

Instead, she found signs that someone had already been there.

Her steps slowed as she examined the entrance. Someone had cleared part of the overgrown path, and the door that should have been sealed shut was slightly open.

She hadn't expected anyone to find this place so soon. Carefully, she pushed the door inward and stepped inside.

A man stood farther down the corridor. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, and her gaze immediately settled on him. He was dressed like royalty with a jaw that looked like it was carved from bronze.

He was a Lycan. She could tell from his build alone. Broad shoulders, a well-defined physique, and a commanding presence that made it difficult to mistake him for an ordinary man. His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead, and his sharp features made him far too handsome for a place like this.

For a moment, Septa forgot why she had come.

Then his eyes met hers, and she caught the guarded look on his face. She stood there glancing at him, her brain short-circuiting because she didn't know what words she was supposed to say.

He walked to stop where she stood and was clearly not pleased to find someone trespassing in his territory.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.