R Fear And Hunger Novels & Stories

Freda’s POV I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I saw Hardin approaching me with the food tray in his hands. Fear gripped me tightly, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Memories of the last time I had refused to eat flooded my mind, and tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to hold back the tears, to keep my composure, but the fear was overwhelming.

"She's bonded. We're feeling every flicker of her heat. It's torture to be this close and not… not claim her." Rhea trembled, shivering, as she watched them. The air was thick, electric with their combined Alpha scents, now tinged with physical ire, frustration, and a base, desperate hunger. The tension vibrated like living flesh, snapping between them, searing to the point it might very well ignite into something infinitely worse than a broken sink. Her body ached, throbbed, hungered, betraying her at every step, drawing her toward the very people her head shunned.

But something deeper stirred now. Hunger. At the mention of breakfast, my ears perked like a starving animal catching the scent of food. My mouth watered involuntarily, and I hated that it did. Hated that even in this twisted reality, my body still responded to basic needs. I hadn’t eaten since last night if not earlier and my stomach reminded me with a low, painful growl. Ronin heard it. Of course he did. Nothing escaped his notice. He stepped closer, his eyes dark but curious, like I was a thing worth observing. He tilted his head slightly, and to my surprise, his voice softened.

When he just made food for me. This minute I had clung to him like a lifeline, the next minute I was cursing him out. A mafia. My heart sank at the possibility that he was thinking of a punishment for me, but what scared me most was just what kind of punishment he would give. And how intense it would be. The fear was not the only thing that returned, the hunger also returned. My stomach rumbled. “Shit," I cursed under my breath. “I'm so hungry."

His forehead almost touched hers, voice dropping even lower. “And if it tries,” he added, “it answers to me.” Vance’s eyes darkened with calculation, but underneath it she felt the spike in the bond, his raw fear of losing her, the same fear he carried about failing another family. It hit her chest like a punch. His thumb brushed the fresh bite on her neck like he could hold the hunger back with touch alone. Lena’s throat tightened. The calm from the symbol still sat in her chest, steady and strange, but the hunger twisted right beside it, demanding, ancient, thirsty.

Shelly’s POV Night has fallen once more, engulfing me in an oppressive darkness that matches the weight in my heart. A short while ago, one of Falcon's men took away my untouched dinner plate. Hunger gnaws at me, but fear grips me tighter, strangling any appetite I might have had. The screams from earlier still echo in my ears, haunting my thoughts and denying me any semblance of peace. Terror has been my constant companion since I arrived here.

The air in the room thickened with my unease, and the weight of his gaze felt heavier than any meal I could have made. The air grew heavy with the promise of food, a fragrant blend of rich, boiled chicken, and the savoury sizzle of fried eggs. My stomach, a rumbling traitor, betrayed my inner turmoil. I was a puppet, my strings held by a strange mix of hunger and fear that my husband might kill me later.

He asked and placed his forearms on the small round wooden table between them – still unaware of the truth. How was Faith doing? She was miserable. She was tired. She hasn’t slept properly in days. And most of all she is scared. She is scared that someone is going to hurt her. She is miserable without her family – she misses them. She misses them so much – every night she cries until her tears dry out. Every day she changes her location, just in case someone does come looking for her. The fear is always around her.

Meat, vegetables, and some spice that made my mouth water instantly. I sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the spoon. My hand trembled. Not from fear. From hunger. A deep, feral hunger I had never felt before, as if I hadn’t eaten in weeks. As I raised the first spoonful to my mouth, a howl rose again from the dark forest outside. Long. Mournful. Calling. The spoon clicked against my teeth as I froze. Because the most terrifying part was not the sound. It was the fact that somewhere deep in my chest, beneath my ribs… something wanted to answer it.

I blended in so much using my grandmother to cover up. "That fast?" I asked "Yes," he replied. I closed my eyes. "There's hunger everywhere," Rowan said. "Not the kind that comes from a bad season. This is deliberate. Rations are controlled. Food is given as a reward or withheld as a punishment. I've seen children faint while going to school. I've seen elders beg. All these I observed as I arrived. My grip on the phone tightened until my fingers hurt. "And my father?" I asked, dreading the answer.