Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 501: Father

"Doctor." Micah shot to his feet the moment she stepped out.

The woman in the white coat didn’t even get a full breath in before he demanded, "What’s going on?"

She paused at first, then exhaled like someone about to deliver bad news. "According to the scan, she took suppressors."

Micah blinked. "What?"

"She took too many of it from the look of the result" the doctor clarified. "However, we’ve flushed her system, and pumped her stomach clean."

"What?!"

Micah was still trying to wrap his head around it. Suppressors? Was Adele out of her mind? Was he really that horrible?

The doctor said, "It’s a good thing you brought her in when you did. Any later, and it could’ve gotten worse. Possibly even fatal."

Micah dragged a hand through his hair, ruffling it in frustration. He was clearly losing his mind, unable to process Adele’s reckless choice.

She went on to explain. "Suppressors are mainly to help feral wolves manage surges by silencing the wolf entirely. However, even such an act is unnatural. Think of it like rejecting a limb. Uncomfortable, right?"

Micah couldn’t speak. He didn’t trust what would come out if he did.

"In Adele’s case..." The doctor adjusted her coat nervously. "Her wolf didn’t react well and lashed out against the drug itself, probably aggravated by the mating fever. You know how active wolves get during that time."

Then came the kicker.

"Who in the world takes suppressors during mating fever?" the doctor muttered, mostly to herself. "If I wasn’t so careful, I’d think she was trying to—"

Micah’s. He hadn’t moved,

cleared her throat, and stepped back

down the hallway

time, Micah went in to see

look like a hospital at all, and it was

and quietly. The room was large, almost too large for just one person,

wood, and a deep-blue armchair sat near the wide window, overlooking the city beyond. The place could pass for a penthouse suite if not for

dark hair was spread across

Micah’s chest because beneath it, he saw the

between them, standing before her. Then his eyes fell on the

of her neck, the ink-black mark stared back at him. Three intersecting lines, vertical and diagonal, met at the center, forming an "X"

up and touched his neck. His own mark was two thick lines slashed in an "X," with two crooked prongs climbing out of the top like claws. It was different shapes

out a slow breath, his

mating bond

shackles. Blessings didn’t hurt

now, staring at her asleep and breathing, his chest burned not with love, but

her mating fever knowing full well what it could do. She would rather poison her own

hands balled into a

She could’ve died.

She could’ve died!

would that have left him? Alone and

to live. The death of one usually took the other. Some by suicide. Some by grief. While some just withered away, unable to breathe in a world where the other

left

even understand

have just