Primal Bonds 2 (Tales of Beastkin)

19. Adam

19

Adam

T he acrid stench of gunpowder hung heavy in the air as Adam surveyed the wreckage of what had once been a sanctuary for his people. The safe house now bore the scars of violence—bullet holes peppering the walls, furniture overturned, and worst of all, the unmistakable metallic tang of blood.

His molten eyes, still burning with the intensity of battle, swept across the scene. The BCOS had fled, tails between their legs, but the damage was done. Anger simmered beneath his skin, threatening to boil over, but Adam pushed it down. Now was not the time for rage. His people needed him.

The early morning mist still clung to the ground outside, visible through the shattered windows. Adam knew they had precious little time before the world outside would start to stir, potentially drawing unwanted attention to their plight.

“Vanessa!” he barked, his voice carrying the weight of command. Vanessa appeared at his side in an instant, her usually immaculate appearance marred by the signs of recent combat. “Status report.”

Vanessa’s voice was clipped, efficient. “Fifteen injured, three critically. No fatalities on our side. The BCOS weren’t so lucky—we count at least five dead, possibly more.”

Adam nodded, his jaw clenching. Even one injury was too many, but it could have been far worse. He turned to see Chase already moving through the room, his medical team efficiently triaging and treating the wounded.

“Chase,” Adam called out, his voice carrying over the din. “What’s your assessment?”

Chase looked up from the patient he was examining, his eyes sharp and focused. “We’re handling it, Adam. Most injuries are minor, but we have a few that need immediate attention. We’ve got this under control.”

Adam nodded, a small measure of relief washing over him. “Good. Prioritize the critical cases. I want updates on their conditions as soon as possible.”

Chase gave a curt nod before returning his attention to his patient, barking orders to his team as they worked with practiced efficiency.

Satisfied that the medical situation was in capable hands, Adam turned back to Vanessa. “Coordinate with Chase. Make sure he has everything he needs. If we’re short on supplies, I want to know immediately.”

As Vanessa rushed to carry out his orders, Adam turned to Magnus, who had materialized on his other side. The hulking bullkin’s massive frame was still tense with residual battle energy. “Magnus, I need you to coordinate the cleanup. Get this place secured and start assessing the damage. I want a full report on my desk by noon.”

Magnus nodded, a grim smile playing on his lips. “Consider it done.”

With his top lieutenants dispatched, Adam waded into the chaos. He moved through the rooms of the safe house, his presence a beacon of strength for the shell-shocked beastkin. A young catkin girl, no more than seven or eight, sat huddled in a corner, her eyes wide with fear. Adam knelt beside her, his imposing frame softening as he reached out a gentle hand.

“It’s okay, little one,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The girl looked up at him, her ears twitching nervously. Then, with a small whimper, she launched herself into his arms. Adam held her close, feeling her tiny body shake with sobs. His heart clenched, a mixture of protective fury and deep sadness washing over him.

This was why they fought. This was why the Sullivan Clan existed. To protect the innocent, to give a home to those who had none. And the BCOS, in their blind hatred and fear, had violated that sanctuary.

As the medical teams treated the wounded, Adam continued his rounds. He spoke with each injured beastkin, offering words of comfort and reassurance. To the fighters who had stood their ground, he gave nods of approval and quiet thanks. Their bravery had saved countless lives this morning.

Hours passed in a blur of activity. The safe house, once a scene of chaos and violence, slowly transformed. Broken furniture was cleared away, bloodstains scrubbed from floors and walls. The injured were stabilized and moved to more secure locations for further treatment.

As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, burning away the mist that clung to the surrounding forest, Adam found himself in what had once been the safe house’s common room. The space, usually filled with the warmth of community and laughter, now felt hollow and cold. Vanessa, Magnus, and Elias joined him, their faces etched with exhaustion but eyes alert.

“Report,” Adam commanded, his voice gruff with fatigue.

Vanessa spoke first. “Medical update: Of the fifteen injured, two remain in critical condition but are expected to pull through. The rest are stable. We’ve moved them all to secure locations for recovery.”

Adam nodded, relief washing over him. No fatalities. It was a small mercy, but one he clung to fiercely.

Magnus picked up where Vanessa left off. “Damage assessment: The safe house is a wreck, but it’s salvageable. We’re looking at extensive repairs, especially to the main entrance and common areas. I’ve already got teams working on fortifying the weak points.”

“Good,” Adam growled. “I want this place impenetrable. No one gets in or out without our say-so.”

Elias stepped forward. “There’s more. Word of the attack is spreading. Smaller clans in the surrounding areas are getting nervous. They’re looking to us for leadership, for a response.”

Adam’s eyes flashed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “They’ll have their response. The BCOS crossed a line today. They need to learn that actions have consequences.”

Vanessa leaned forward, her voice low and urgent. “What’s our play, Master Adam? Do we hit back? Make an example of them?”

For a long moment, Adam was silent, his mind racing through possibilities, weighing options and potential outcomes. When he spoke, his voice was steel. “No. Not yet. We can’t afford an all-out war, not when we’re still building our strength.”

He began to pace, his powerful frame radiating barely contained energy. “But we won’t let this stand. Elias, I want every scrap of intel we can get on the BCOS. Their operations, their leadership, their weaknesses. We’re going to hit them where it hurts—their reputation.”

Elias nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I see where you’re going with this. We expose their brutality, their willingness to attack innocent civilians. Turn public opinion against them.”

“Exactly,” Adam confirmed. “Vanessa, I need you to reach out to our contacts in the media. Human sympathizers, underground beastkin networks, anyone who can help spread the word. We’re going to show the world the true face of the BCOS.”

Vanessa’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “I’ll start making calls immediately.”

“Good,” Adam nodded. “But that’s just the beginning. We need to strengthen our defenses across the board. I want every Sullivan property fortified, every safe house double-checked for security vulnerabilities. And we need to step up our training programs. Every beastkin in our clan should be capable of defending themselves and others.”

His lieutenants exchanged glances, impressed by the comprehensiveness of Adam’s strategy. This wasn’t just a reaction to one attack; it was a long-term plan to protect their people and strengthen their position.

“What about the minor clans under our protection?” Magnus asked, his deep voice rumbling with concern. “By now, they must have heard about the attack. They’ll be looking to us for guidance and reassurance.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right. They need to know we’re on top of this. Magnus, arrange an emergency meeting with the leaders of all our allied clans.”

“Understood,” Magnus replied, his fingers flying over the phone’s screen.

Adam turned to the others. “Vanessa, prepare a detailed report on the attack and our immediate response. Elias, I want you to outline our intelligence gathering plans and potential countermeasures against the BCOS. We need to show our allies that we’re not just reacting but planning ahead.”

Both nodded, their expressions determined.

“Let’s get to work,” Adam commanded.

As his lieutenants nodded in agreement, a commotion at the door drew their attention. A young beastkin, barely more than a teenager, burst into the room, his eyes wide with panic.

“Master Adam!” he gasped. “There’s a problem at the east perimeter. We’ve detected movement in the woods.”

Adam was on his feet in an instant, his body coiled for action. “Magnus, with me. Vanessa, lock this place down. No one in or out until we give the all clear. Elias, gather your shadow team and secure the perimeter.”

As they raced toward the east perimeter, Adam’s mind whirled. Had the BCOS returned for round two? Or was this something else entirely? Either way, he was ready.

The dense forest loomed before them, still shrouded in the shadows of morning. Adam’s enhanced senses picked up the faint rustle of movement, the snap of a twig underfoot. He signaled to Magnus, who fanned out to his right, both of them moving with the silent grace of predators.

Suddenly, a figure burst from the tree line. Adam tensed, ready to strike, but then froze as recognition dawned. It was a beastkin, young and terrified, clutching a bundle to his chest.

“Help!” the boy cried, stumbling toward them. “Please, they’re right behind me!”

Adam moved swiftly, catching the beastkin before he could fall. “Who’s behind you? What happened?”

“BCOS,” the boy gasped. “They… they attacked our village. We’re all that’s left.”

As if on cue, more figures emerged from the woods. Men, women, children, all bearing the unmistakable signs of beastkin heritage. All wore expressions of fear and exhaustion.

Adam’s heart clenched. This was the true cost of the BCOS’s brutality. Not just the attack on their safe house, but the countless other beastkin communities terrorized and destroyed.

“Magnus,” he barked, “get these people inside. Full medical checks, food, water, whatever they need.”

As Magnus began organizing the newcomers, Adam turned back to the boy still clutching his bundle. “What’s your name?”

“Mark,” the beastkin replied, his voice shaky.

Adam nodded, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re safe now, Mark. You and your people. The Sullivan Clan protects its own.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “The Sullivan Clan? You mean… you’re Adam Sullivan?”

A ghost of a smile touched Adam’s lips. “I am. And you and your people are under my protection now. No harm will come to you here.”

Relief washed over Mark’s face, and he sagged against Adam. It was then that Adam noticed the bundle in Mark’s arms move. With a start, he realized it was a baby, no more than a few months old.

“My little sister,” Mark said. “Our parents… they didn’t make it.”

The weight of responsibility settled heavily on Adam’s shoulders. These people had lost everything, fleeing with nothing but the clothes on their backs and each other. They were looking to him for safety, for a future.

“Come,” he said, guiding Mark toward the safe house. “Let’s get you and your sister taken care of.”

As they walked through the clearing back to the fortified structure, Adam’s mind raced. The safe house was already strained to capacity, and now they had a whole new group of refugees to care for. They would need more resources, more space, more everything.

But as he looked at Mark, at the tiny life cradled in his arms, Adam knew it didn’t matter. They would find a way. They always did. Because that’s what it meant to be the Sullivan Clan. To protect, to provide, to persevere.

Inside the safe house, organized chaos reigned. Magnus had mobilized every available clan member, setting up makeshift beds, distributing food and water, and coordinating medical care for the newcomers. Adam moved through the crowd, his presence a steadying influence amid the turmoil.

He found Vanessa overseeing the distribution of supplies, her fiery hair tied back in a practical ponytail. “Status?” he asked, his voice low.

Vanessa turned to him, her eyes bright with determination. “We’re managing, but only just. These people need more than we can provide here. We need to think about long-term solutions.”

Adam nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. “Agreed. Start looking into our other properties in the area. We may need to redistribute our people, spread them out to make room.”

As Vanessa hurried off to carry out his orders, Adam felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see a young rabbitkin girl, no more than six or seven, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Are you the alpha?” she asked, her voice small but clear.

Adam knelt down, bringing himself to her eye level. “I am. What’s your name, little one?”

“Lily,” she replied. “Are… are the bad men going to come back?”

Adam’s heart clenched at the fear in her voice. He reached out, gently ruffling her hair. “No, Lily. The bad men won’t come here. I promise you that.”

Lily’s eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of deception. Finding none, she nodded solemnly. “Okay. I believe you.”

As she scampered off to rejoin her family, Adam rose to his feet, a new determination burning in his chest. He would keep that promise, no matter the cost.

The morning stretched into afternoon, a blur of activity. Adam moved tirelessly, coordinating efforts, comforting the frightened, making decisions that would shape the future of his clan. It was well past midday when Elias placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You need to rest. We’ve got things under control here. Besides,” he added with a knowing look, “Shiro must be worried sick about you by now.”

At the mention of Shiro’s name, Adam felt a pang of guilt. In the chaos of the attack and its aftermath, he hadn’t even had a chance to contact the boy. He nodded, suddenly aware of the bone-deep weariness that had settled into his body.

“You’re right,” Adam conceded. “Keep me updated on any developments. I’ll head back to the mansion.”

Elias nodded, relief evident in his eyes.