The following days were a whirlwind of adjustments. Claire's newfound strength was undeniable, and she reveled in it. She took on tasks that would have been impossible before—moving heavy crates, reinforcing walls, managing the cold with an ease that seemed almost superhuman. Her body had changed; she was taller now, her muscles more defined, her movements more assured.
But with the power came challenges. There were times when she would underestimate her strength, accidentally breaking things—like the time she'd shattered one of the steel-reinforced bars while trying to move it. She would laugh it off, a mix of frustration and amusement in her eyes as she tried to adjust to her new abilities.
Daniel watched her, his eyes always calculating, always wary. He could see the way she looked at him now—the possessiveness in her gaze, the way her smile would linger just a little too long. She was different, more dominant, and it was clear that she was enjoying her newfound position of power.
"Hey, Daniel," Claire called out one day, her voice echoing through the bunker. He looked over to see her lifting a large metal crate, her muscles flexing as she carried it effortlessly across the room. She set it down with a grin, wiping her hands on her pants. "You know, if you keep staring at me like that, I might start to think you're impressed."
Daniel snorted, shaking his head. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm just making sure you don't break anything else."
Claire pouted, stepping closer to him, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Aw, come on. You know you like it," she said, her hand reaching out to pinch his butt playfully.
Daniel flinched, swatting her hand away with a scowl. "Cut that out," he muttered, though there was no real anger in his voice.
Claire just laughed, her eyes dancing with amusement. She moved closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against her. "Admit it," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, "you like having me around."
Daniel hesitated, his heart pounding as he looked up at her. There was a sincerity in her eyes, a softness that made his chest tighten. He let out a sigh, nodding slightly. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I do."
Claire beamed, her grip on him tightening. She leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, her eyes filled with something almost tender. "Good," she said, her voice soft. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Two weeks passed, and their dynamic continued to evolve. Claire had become more protective of him—almost possessive. She would hover near him, her eyes always watching, her body always ready to step in if she thought he was in danger. She had started sleeping beside him, her arm draped over him as if to keep him in place, to remind him that he was hers.
Daniel wasn't sure how he felt about it. Part of him enjoyed the attention, the closeness. It had been a long time since he'd let anyone in, since he'd let anyone get close enough to care. But another part of him—the part that remembered betrayal, that remembered the pain of being used—felt uneasy. He didn't know if he could trust her, not completely. Not yet.
But he couldn't deny that she was useful. She was strong, capable, and she seemed genuinely committed to keeping him safe. And as much as he hated to admit it, he needed her.
It was late one night, the bunker dark and quiet, when the security alarm blared.
Daniel jolted awake, his heart pounding as he reached for the tablet on the nightstand. Beside him, Claire was already up, her body tense, her eyes sharp as she scanned the room.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice low, dangerous.
Daniel tapped at the tablet, bringing up the security feed. He could see them—figures moving through the snow outside the mansion. They were covered from head to toe in thick clothes, their faces obscured, their movements cautious.
"Looks like a group of people," Daniel said, his brow furrowing. "Probably searching for supplies."
Claire moved closer, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the screen. Her hand rested on his shoulder, her grip firm, almost possessive. "We should take care of them," she said, her voice cold. "They're a threat."
Daniel's eyes opened wide. He really didn't expect someone like Claire to mutter killing people so easily, but then again, this was the apocalypse so, oh well. He thought to himself, his eyes scanning the group on the feed. They didn't look armed, and there were only four of them. He had enough resources to take them in, but the system hadn't alerted him to any potential partners or allies among them. They were just regular people—no special potential, no reason to risk anything.
"I could use the security system to electrocute them," Daniel mused aloud, more to himself than to Claire. "Scare them off."
But Claire shook her head, her expression hard. "No," she said, her voice firm. "They'll just come back. I should handle this."
Daniel looked at her, the intensity in her eyes catching him off guard. She wanted to fight. She wanted to protect him. And as much as it made him uneasy, he couldn't deny that she was capable of handling herself now—more capable than he was, in some ways.
He nodded slowly, then activated the audio system connected to the gate. He cleared his throat, his voice amplified as it echoed through the speakers outside. "This is private property. State your business."
The group outside froze, their heads turning toward the camera. There was a moment of silence, then one of them stepped forward, his voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around his face. "We're just looking for supplies," he said, his tone desperate. "We don't mean any harm."
Daniel narrowed his eyes, his finger hovering over the button that would activate the electric fence. He didn't want to hurt anyone if he didn't have to, but he couldn't let his guard down.