Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 388: Escaped

A young werewolf lay face-down on the table while overhead, surgical lights glared down on him, white and blinding. His wrists and ankles were strapped tightly to the padded restraints.

He was barely conscious, his breath coming in shallow rasps, and his pupils sluggish from the sedative coursing through his system. His spine, however, remained fully exposed, a concise incision running along the lower vertebrae, held open by retractors.

Patrick hovered over the boy with such calm that could unnerve death itself.

"Vitals?" he asked without looking up.

"Stable. BP 112 over 74. Heart rate holding at 58," one of the assisting surgeons replied from the monitors.

"Good. Suction probe."

A second surgeon placed the long, narrow spinal aspirator into Patrick’s gloved hand who held it like an artist cradling his finest brush. The tip was fine, needle-thin, designed to pierce the subarachnoid space without severing any critical nerve branches. One mistake, and the boy would seize, or worse, flatline. But he wasn’t known for mistakes, having performed this procedure several times.

He leaned in closer, his eyes magnified through the loupe visor, the lens attached to the headlight rig strapped over his surgical cap. Every muscle in the room tensed with him as the aspirator descended toward the spinal canal.

The first puncture was clean with barely a bead of blood and the suction tube filled slowly, and steadily, with the pale fluid.

"Harvesting cerebrospinal sample," Patrick murmured, his voice mechanical.

This was Ignis in its rawest form.

The machine monitoring the werewolf vitals let out a warning beep as the heart rate spiked briefly before settling again. Through it all, Patrick barely blinked.

"Almost there..." he whispered, adjusting the suction dial by a hair’s breadth.

But there was a bang and the door slammed open, the metal crashing against the wall with such force one of the retractors slipped slightly. The startled patient let out a muffled moan, still too drugged to thrash, but aware enough to feel it.

Patrick froze.

"Goddamn it!" one of the surgeons muttered under his breath.

Patrick didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Only one person would dare interrupt him mid-harvest and expect to leave with their life intact.

Cynthia.

"We have a problem," she said breathlessly, her words rushed.

Patrick slowly pulled the aspirator free from the boy’s spine, careful not to waste a single drop of fluid. He handed it off to the assistant without a word, then peeled off his gloves with a slick snap. The surgical mask came off next, and was followed by the visor.

Patrick turned to her with a cold expression. "If you were anyone else, you’d be waking up intubated."

"But I’m not," she said, stepping fully into the room, unbothered by the bloody surgical scene. "And I wouldn’t be here if it could wait."

Patrick gave a curt nod to the team. "Close him up. Keep him sedated. Mark this one batch Omega-four-seven. I want it processed in the next hour."

"Yes, Doctor."

Patrick stripped off the gown, tossing it aside as he walked toward Cynthia, now in his black undershirt, a splash of the boy’s blood still dotting the collar. His eyes were razor sharp as they left.

"Talk to me." Patrick said as they stepped into a private room.

She didn’t hesitate. "They have captured the girl."

"And that isn’t good news?"

"They have Griffin Hale too." Cynthia announced and Patrick halted at once.

For the first time, Patrick’s composure faltered. He asked, body taut. "What did you just say?"

"They took Griffin," Cynthia repeated. "He was with Violet when the rogues made their move."

A vein pulsed at Patrick’s temple.

"That’s impossible. Asher was supposed to be with her!" he snapped. "And I gave a direct order, take the girl only! Goddamn it!"

Patrick ran a hand over his face, pacing, his teeth grinding. Had he known this would go down like this, he never would’ve made such a hasty move.

He had been watching Violet for a long time now. A girl like her didn’t go unnoticed, especially not by him.

When he found out Asher had gone to District One, Patrick hadn’t needed a psychic to figure it out. Asher’s trip had everything to do with Violet Purple. Her name alone raised questions, but it was her appearance that sealed it. That purplish-black hair wasn’t human. It wasn’t normal.

He had files on nearly every student enrolled in Lunaris Academy. Their backgrounds, bloodlines and affiliations. But Violet was a black hole. Not to mention every attempt to get her DNA had been blocked either by Adele, or by those overprotective cardinal alphas.

But Patrick wasn’t stupid. He knew how Asher Nightshade’s brain worked.

Asher didn’t attach himself to anything that wasn’t valuable, or exceptional. And now, all four cardinal Alphas were circling around the same girl? That wasn’t infatuation. That was instinct. If not power.

And he intended to find out just what it was.

So when the scandal rocked the academy and Violet disappeared with Asher, Patrick decided it was time to act. He couldn’t use his own people. No, that would have raised too many red flags. Instead, he reached out to the one group reckless enough to do his bidding without asking questions.

The Rogues.

They were the right call at the time. Everything was planned to look like a random attack on the West Alpha and his girl. Everyone would believe it. After all, rogues had always stolen females. It was in their nature.

It would have been the perfect crime. But that was until they went and fucked everything up by taking a cardinal alpha.

They would draw attention to themselves and probably get discovered. Not to mention, Griffin of all people?! His beast wasn’t tameable!

"Call that bastard right now!" Patrick snapped.

"Tried that already, he’s not answering," Cynthia informed him.

Patrick closed his eyes and tried to think. This was not the time to get emotional.

When he opened them, he instructed her quickly. "If Griffin was taken, then it’s not long before the others find them. I don’t know how much time we have left, either way, we don’t wait. Take a team and get the girl. Now. And get rid of the rogues while you’re at it. All of them."

Cynthia nodded.

Then Patrick’s voice dropped to a deadly murmur. "Even Griffin Hale. If possible."

Her eyes flicked up, holding his for a beat. "Understood."

"You know what’s at stake."

"I do."

Cynthia pivoted, already on her way out the door when Patrick’s voice called her back.

"If things get bad, and I mean bad, withdraw. At once. You hear me? I can’t lose you too."

Cynthia paused in the doorway, casting one last look over her shoulder. "You won’t lose me, Elias." Then she was gone, her heels clicking down the corridor.

Patrick let out a slow breath, trying to calm the inferno rising in his chest. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to catch his breath.

But then, there was a sharp buzz and the overhead fluorescents flickered, followed by a rapid beep-beep-beep. A crimson light began to flash across the control panel on the wall.

ALERT: CONTAINMENT BREACH – ROOM 4B.

Patrick’s stomach dropped. "No... no, no, no..."

Cursing under his breath, he bolted from the hall and shoved through the double doors of the surgical suite he’d just left. But the sight stopped him cold.

There was blood everywhere. Stainless steel instruments were scattered across the floor, and one of the operating lights hung broken from the ceiling, swinging back and forth with a haunting creak. noveldrama

The young werewolf patient have escaped.

Two of the surgeons he left earlier were on the ground. One lay slumped in a pool of his own blood, his abdomen torn open with his entrails dragged halfway across the tiles like he had tried to crawl for help before dying.

Patrick’s boots slipped slightly in the blood as he knelt beside the second surgeon who was barely alive. The man’s chest was caved in, the puncture wounds deep. Blood spilled from his lips as he gasped, his eyes going in and out of focus.

Patrick grabbed his shoulders. "What happened?!"

The surgeon coughed wetly, blood spurting against Patrick’s scrubs.

"He... he shifted... halfway... he wasn’t sedated enough.... "

Patrick’s heart pounded in his chest. The anesthetic hadn’t worked. His body must have gotten adjusted to the dosage and he was able to fight through it.

The doctor’s words ended in a wet gurgle as blood filled his mouth. His body twitched once, then went still.

Patrick rose as three armed guards stormed in with their weapons drawn, and their faces pale.

"Sir! Emergency alert received."

Patrick barked, "Get the extraction unit ready. I want scent markers engaged! I want drones in the sky and dogs on the ground! Sweep the forest line! Sweep the tunnels! Sweep the goddamn ventilation shafts if you have to! Use everything. Find him!"