Mated To Four Alphas

rown-haired intruder missed its mark. The man swiftly rolled to the side as Doctor Gandor readied another shot. Another gunshot resounded in the sterile room as the man collided w

help but be acutely aware of the m

e thin layers of fabric separating us, I could discern the intricate contours of his form, sensing the rapid thudding of his heart, almost

urse. I instinctively huddled in, drawing my limbs close to my body. The unfolding chaos left me bewildered, with questions about why Doctor Gandor possessed a firearm and who this intruder was. My body instinctively sought safety, minimizing the risk of being caught by an errant bullet.

flung himself away from the wall, d

, forcefully pulling me up from where I had been sitting. Urgently, he guided

ringing as if I were submerged in deep, murky water. Despite my disorientati

idor, propelled by a sense of urgency. His grip on my hand was so tight that I could barely f

ough the air like a sharp knife, addi

or, forcefully propelling me through its opening

e urged, his voice

esulting in a painful collision between my shin and the unforgiving

s guy hadn't maintained his iron grip on me. He yanked me back up, his other hand still firmly clutching the gun. My bare feet desperately scr

ely unknown to me. In some ways, it bore a resemblance to the laboratory area beneath the main complex where I resided, or at least what little I had glimpsed of it. The hallway on this floor exuded cleanliness and sterility, its wall

ring contrast to the rhythmic slaps of my bare feet. His grip on my hand momentarily loosened, granting me the opportunity to flex my fingers. As we swiftly passed an intersecting hallway,

llowing me to break free. He called out after me, but his words fell on deaf ears. I didn't even consider t

dor, where it intersected with another passageway, stood my mom. Her brown eyes widened behind the thick lenses of her glasses. My heart

rward, my pace quickening as I raced towards her. A breathless c

within the waistband of her jeans. Time seemed to stretch, elongating each passing second as my heart pounded in my chest. It was a gun. My mom held a gun, its sol

A deafening shot pierced the air, jolting me to my core. Panic surged through my veins as a bullet whizzed past, narrowly missing my h

nging an abrupt end to my existence. My eyes fixated on the sleek, menacing contours of the metallic firearm, observing the way my mom held it with a delicate yet resolute grip. Her arms stood firm, locked in position before her, while her lips formed a thin, unwavering line. Behind her glasses, her eyes remained inscrutable, their t

he could even turn to face him, he launched himself at her with a powerful tackle, his voice erupting in a loud yell, accompanied by a deep grunt. Despite my mom's taller and more robust stature compared to mine, the man possessed a

s grasp. With a swift and forceful motion, he brought down the blunt end of the weapon against the side of her head. The sound of the impact resonated through the air, penetrating deep into the core of my being. My mom's head jerked to the side, her bo

pon, ensuring it was devoid of bullets, before firmly reinserting the magazine into the gun. His gaze

urned to face the source, I beheld the man with the slightly bent nose and brown h

and Marcus?" he q

ught there might be another restricted area where Sariah could hav

their vigilant watch, each aiming their gun down opposite ends of the corridor. However, my att

elf pressed against the wall, an overwhelming urge compelling me to crawl towards her, t

been trailing behind me, of that I was certain. It had been just the two of us—my mom and me. And yet, she had aimed the gun at my

e wound on her temple. In every other way, she appeared exactly as she did whe

h my knees, and my smiley face underwear might have been exposed, but I couldn't bring myself to care. My eyes remained

t the end of the hallway froze me in place. My body tensed, bracing

the man who had tackl

you think?" came t

ewed energy into the scene. The one who had spoken possessed curly black

her fi

as a half-whisper, half-croak, as my overwhelmed

e, there was an undeniable warmth and kindness that radiated from him, even wit

barged into the examination room at the onset of this nightmarish ordeal shook his head

concealed somewhere! This facility is structured differently from th

nd I haven't come across anything of the sort. This place is operated by a small staff, but they have undoubtedl

she's

his face. "Let it go! She wouldn't want you to risk your life for her rescue. And if you p

ion hung in the air between them, and I half-expected Marcus to swing his gun around and shoot the other man in the head.

tone of menace. Yet, the man facing him down—Wyatt—didn't interpret it as

n action-packed movie, watching the chaos unfold from a detached, distant vantage point. My body felt devoid of sensation, a

touch of the marble floor. I didn't want to go anywhere. The thought of leaving this place was inconceivable. After all, I was sick—I nee

rberated through the corridor like thunder, blending with the shrill alarm. Within moments, a group of guards, garbed in tactical gear, rounded