Mated To Four Alphas

The arrival of the new orderly caught my attention. It was safe to assume that he was new since I had never seen him before. After spending a decade in the confines of the Taren Wilson Corporation medical treatment complex, I had become familiar with the faces of both the patients and the staff. Although people came and went, the turnover rate was slow enough that any fresh face stood out. And let me tell you, this guy's face would stand out even in the midst of a bustling crowd.

His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of gray-blue, resembled turbulent clouds pregnant with rain. They were framed by long and thick lashes that added to their allure. His features were perfectly proportioned, with a prominent nose and full lips. A faint shadow of stubble adorned his strong jawline. However, what truly captured my attention was his smile. It was a smile that could knock your socks off, radiating warmth and kindness. A row of pearly white teeth peeked out between his lips, which formed a charming lopsided grin, slightly higher on the left than the right. And in that moment, he directed that adorable grin straight at me.

"Are you finished?" he asked, a playful tone lacing his words. I blinked, suddenly aware that I had been holding an empty fork halfway to my mouth. Indeed, I had completed my dinner.

There wasn't a morsel left on my plate, and I fervently hoped that I hadn't spent the past five minutes pretending to eat while my gaze remained fixated on him. Come on, Isabella. Keep your cool! "Oh. Um, yeah," I stammered, setting the fork down with utmost care beside my empty plate. With a slight nudge, I slid the tray, typical of a cafeteria-style setup, across the table towards him. "Thanks."

He swiftly scooped up the tray, deftly balancing it on his arm. His eyes traveled down to the tray, a single eyebrow raising in curiosity. "You must have really enjoyed it. Is the food here any good?"

My heart pounded harder within my chest, its rhythm echoing in my ears. I desperately tried to ignore it. Each time I believed that I had grown accustomed to the monotonous existence that encompassed my life within these medical facility walls, something always emerged to remind me of my yearning for a normal life beyond these confines. A life where the simple act of a charming guy engaging in more than a couple of words with me didn't send my pulse skyrocketing and leave my mouth as parched as a desert.

A life where I was more than just a patient. Where I was a normal twenty year-old, going out to bars with friends on the weekends and studying for exams—all the regular things twenty year-olds did, according to the shows I watched on the small TV in my room.

"Or... maybe not." The guy, whose name tag read Clark, unleashed his devastating smile at me again. A blush warmed my cheeks as I realized I'd zoned out. Again. Shit. I must look like a total freak show. But a decade of living a quarantined life will do that to a girl.

"Um, it’s fine," I answered, forcing my mouth to form words. "I think the staff food is probably better. We have to eat exactly what Doctor Gandor recommends. There's not a lot of variety."

He tilted his head, studying me curiously. "And you don't mind that?"

I shrugged, sitting back in my chair. My private room felt strangely small with him inside it. Each day, the orderlies followed their routine visits, but today was different. They didn't merely pass through; they lingered, taking the time for a conversation. This departure from the norm brought a mix of comfort and unease.

I attempted to convey my perspective to the orderly. "It's not a matter of whether I mind or not," I began. "Doctor Gandor and his team hold my life in their hands, and I dutifully adhere to their directives. If they were to propose something as unconventional as consuming raw meat or chewing on tree bark, I'd likely comply." My words were filled with earnestness, emphasizing the gravity of my reliance on medical guidance.

The orderly, with his short, spiky blond hair, unconsciously tousled it with his free hand while nodding in comprehension. A solemn expression descended upon his features as he absorbed the weight of my words, grasping the extent of my dependency on the medical team.

"Hmm. I suppose that does make sense," he replied thoughtfully. "Well, I hope they at least permit you to indulge in some dessert now and then."

A wide grin illuminated my face. "You needn't worry, they certainly do. Life wouldn't be worth living without the occasional sweet indulgence."

A chuckle escaped him, its warm melody washing over me like golden honey, causing a flutter of butterflies to awaken in my stomach. Not that I had much experience with this sort of thing, but a flicker of a thought crossed my mind—could he be flirting with me? The notion made my nerves tingle, threatening to constrict my throat, so I swiftly pushed it aside. After all, why would someone like him, so attractive and charming, flirt with a girl like me? It's not like I was repulsive or anything, but I couldn't help but question why he would take an interest in someone like me. My hair cascaded down to my mid-back, its rich brown hue resembling a delectable shade of chocolate. Unfortunately, I wasn't permitted to wear any makeup due to the risk of triggering an adverse reaction. But according to my mom, I didn't need it. She insisted that my golden eyes and high cheekbones were enough to captivate anyone, and that makeup would only hinder my natural beauty. Thanks, mom.

Still, as I glanced at the guy before me, I couldn't help but wonder if he would have any trouble finding a date in the outside world—the real world—where he could actually take a girl out. Unlike this place, where the closest thing to a date would be a visit to the cafeteria or the exercise yard, all while being scrutinized by a horde of doctors and lab technicians. Not exactly the most romantic activities one could engage in.

That's the reason why the idea of dating seemed like an unattainable dream for me, at least until the day when, if ever, I managed to escape this place. Doctor Gandor always made sure to remind both me and my mom that there was no definite end date for my treatment. He remained hopeful that one day they would find a cure, but he refused to make any false promises. I respected that. I didn't want him feeding me empty words or false hope. However, despite his frequent reminders that I might never be able to survive beyond these walls, I couldn't bring myself to believe it. Deep down, I knew that one day, I would walk out of here, completely healed. It had to happen.

"Well... I'll leave you to your thoughts. Didn't mean to disturb you; you seem lost in your own world," the orderly said, flashing me another warm smile as he slowly retreated from the small table in my room, his gaze fixed on the door. Damn it! I had drifted off again. What was wrong with me? I scolded myself internally, feeling frustrated at my inability to stay present in the moment.

Encountering other people in this underground confinement wasn't an uncommon occurrence for me. My mom faithfully visited me every week, and I frequently crossed paths with the staff and fellow patients. So, why was it that this particular guy had the power to turn my brain into mush? Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the majority of the Taren staff were significantly older than me, and the patients tended to keep to themselves. Many of them were much sicker than I was, making socializing a challenging endeavor.

"No, really, it's fine!" I blurted out, my words dripping with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I actually enjoy having some company. Feel free to drop by whenever you want." The grin he flashed over his shoulder practically had me melting into a puddle. As he closed the door behind him, I dragged myself off the chair and unceremoniously face-planted onto the twin bed nestled in the corner of the room. Rolling onto my back, I draped an arm over my face, pushing aside my long hair in the process.

"Seriously, Isabella. What is the matter with you?" I muttered under my breath, exasperated by my own awkwardness. However, there was a small consolation in the fact that if he was indeed a new staff member, he would undoubtedly return. Not because of my feeble invitation, but simply because it was part of his job.

I shrugged off the thought, deciding to embrace the opportunity. The next time he came around, I vowed to myself that I wouldn't be such a bumbling mess. Perhaps I would even manage to string together a coherent sentence or two. After all, I had spent countless hours in this room, immersed in the books my mom brought me. I had read and re-read them so many times that I should be more than capable of engaging in an intelligent conversation. Well, as long as he didn't flash that disarming smile of his.

Rolling my eyes at my own silliness, I fumbled around on the nightstand until my fingers found the familiar texture of my current novel, Pride and Prejudice. I had read it before, but due to the limited space on the bookshelf in my cramped room, I had given it to my mom a while back in exchange for something new. Yet, on her last visit, she had surprised me by returning it. Now, I found myself halfway through the captivating love story of Darcy and Elizabeth.

Right around the part where Darcy was displaying his unpleasant side, which, for some inexplicable reason, made me even more drawn to him. Perhaps it was because I knew that a twist was imminent, where his hidden gentleness would be unveiled. Or maybe I simply had a strange attraction towards difficult individuals. However, that orderly, Clark, didn't fit the mold of an unpleasant person. The thought of him brought warmth to my stomach once again. He exuded kindness and warmth, and despite my own awkwardness and nervousness, his presence had a calming effect on me.

I continued reading for a while, diving deep into the pages of the book. However, my mind kept drifting back to a pair of captivating gray-blue eyes. Eventually, I reluctantly set the book aside, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. It read 8:45, indicating that in fifteen minutes, the medical complex would begin its nightly shutdown. While there wasn't an official curfew in place here, the fact that all the doors locked at 9 p.m. effectively rendered the same result. But if I hurried, there was still a chance for me to make it to the cafeteria and snatch a snack for later.

Carefully sliding the bookmark into its rightful place, I gently returned Pride and Prejudice to its position on the nightstand. I sprang up from the bed, grabbing a pair of basic black flats from the closet. Gone were the days of constantly donning hospital gowns like I had during my initial years here. However, my fashion choices had never strayed far from the comfort of yoga pants and simple t-shirts. Who was there to impress in this place, after all?

As I ventured out of my room, the hallway lay deserted before me. This lack of activity didn't surprise me in the least. The silence that enveloped this place at night was as profound as that of a graveyard. While I wouldn't classify myself as particularly adventurous, I couldn't help but feel like a wild child in comparison to some of the other patients who resided here. Each of us was permitted to personalize our private suites to a certain extent, but I was the sole individual who adorned the walls with posters and artwork. These items, along with my collection of books, served as my homage to the outside world—a constant reminder that there existed a greater expanse beyond these confining walls.

The Taren Wilson Corporation's medical complex stood as a fortress, devoid of any windows, deliberately constructed underground to shield us from the perils of airborne pathogens. Below our level, there were hidden depths housing laboratories, operating rooms, hospital beds, and an array of medical equipment. However, I seldom ventured beyond the main floor, as everything essential for my daily existence was conveniently situated here. The well-lit hallway, adorned with gray-tiled flooring, stretched ahead of me as I walked, a silent prayer of gratitude rising within me for the umpteenth time.

I had no inkling of the exorbitant cost associated with my residence in this state-of-the-art treatment facility. It far surpassed what my mom earned from her humble teacher's salary. If the benevolent Taren Wilson Corporation hadn't extended their offer to provide me with free treatment, I would not find myself here today. In fact, it's quite possible that I wouldn't be alive at all. While most of my childhood memories remained hazy, the image of flashing lights overhead as I was wheeled through seemingly endless corridors into countless emergency rooms remained vivid in my mind.

After dozens of baffled doctors and near-death experiences, I’d finally been diagnosed with an incredibly rare autoimmune disease called Speyer’s Syndrome.

The diagnosis would’ve been a curse, except for the fact that my illness was interesting and strange enough to garner the attention of the Taren Wilson Corporation, one of the largest biomedical research firms in the country.

They’d approached my mom with an offer—their doctors would undertake my treatment for free as a means of studying my disease. While they had never made any assurances of a complete cure, my mom saw the decision as a straightforward one. It was a chance at hope when we’d had none left.

And so far, the treatment seemed to be working. While they hadn't provided a permanent solution to my condition, the combination of medication, regular exercise, and stringent measures to minimize exposure to external pathogens allowed me to experience well-being on most days. This approach enabled me to lead a relatively ordinary life. Or as close to normal as one could get while confined away from the bustling world of humanity, anyway.

As I strolled along, I couldn't help but knock on the wall as I passed, hoping to make contact with solid wood beneath the layers of plaster. Over the years, I had developed a few superstitious habits, firmly believing in the power of staying on luck's favorable side. After all, luck had proven itself a reliable ally thus far, and I had no intention of souring our relationship.

Quickening my steps, I navigated through the spacious central area that served as the heart of the entire complex. I continued down the corridor, which guided me to the cafeteria. If I didn’t hurry, I’d miss my chance. I had a key card to my own room, but I’d be locked out of every other room in the place at nine o’clock sharp.

Half of the lights in the cafeteria had already been turned off. The kitchen was closed down, but an array of snacks and small meals—all Doctor Gandor-approved—were on display in an open refrigeration unit. I grabbed an apple and a banana. A little boring, but they’d have to do. The conversation about dessert with the friendly orderly had ignited a craving for something sweet within me. As I started to make my way back towards the entrance, a loud, grinding noise filled the air as the metal grate, used to seal off the cafeteria at night, began descending from the ceiling.

“Fuck!” I muttered under my breath.

Clutching the apple and banana tightly, I propelled myself towards the expansive doorway, my heart pounding with adrenaline. As the metal partition descended, I dropped to the floor, executing a swift roll to evade its grasp, feeling the faint brush of it against my shoulder. It was a moment reminiscent of an Indiana Jones adventure, so invigorating that I almost instinctively reached back for a non-existent hat. Suppressing a triumphant whoop, I quickly realized the need for silence in the quiet, desolate surroundings.

With a sense of triumph, I raised my prized fruits, taking a satisfying bite from the apple as I confidently strode back down the corridor. A strange buzz of excitement coursed through me, surging through my veins and accelerating my heartbeat. Perhaps tonight, in defiance of Doctor Gandor's persistent reminders to rest, I would indulge in staying up late to conclude my reading of Pride and Prejudice. After all, I wasn't tired in the slightest, and there were no pressing obligations awaiting me the following day. This was an opportunity to seize the moment and...

Suddenly, an unexpected wave of dizziness crashed over me, striking without warning. I staggered to a halt, beads of sweat forming on my skin. Agonizing pain surged through me, igniting my nerve endings like the searing tip of a hot poker. My muscles tensed involuntarily, causing me to stumble and collapse onto my knees, lurching sideways. In my trembling grip, the banana met an unfortunate fate, succumbing to the pressure as the yellow skin split open, revealing the oozing white flesh beneath, resembling pus seeping from a wound.

Helpless, my body convulsed and contorted in a violent seizure, while I watched in despair as the apple I had cherished moments ago rolled away from me, its escape symbolizing a cruel twist of fate. This couldn't be happening. Not like this. Please, I silently pleaded, not like this.