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—"

collided with Micah’s. He hadn’t moved, but the look in

swallowed, cleared her throat, and stepped back quickly. "You can see her

hallway

went

room didn’t look like a hospital at all, and it was

too large for just one person,

no smell of antiseptic, no scratchy sheets or ugly white tiles. Instead, the floor was polished wood, and a deep-blue armchair sat near

soft ivory sheets, her breathing steady and even. Her dark hair was spread across the pillow like ink, and her lashes fanned

Micah’s chest because beneath it, he saw the vulnerability. The kind

them, standing before her. Then his eyes fell

into her skin at the base of her neck, the ink-black mark stared back at him. Three intersecting lines,

own mark was two thick lines slashed in an "X," with two crooked prongs climbing out of the top like claws. It was

let out a slow breath, his hand

called the mating bond

shackles. Blessings

her asleep and breathing, his chest burned not with love, but sour

She would rather poison her own body than be bound to him. Did she hate him that much?

balled into

She could’ve died.

She could’ve died!

would that have left

to live. The death of one usually took the other. Some by suicide. Some by grief. While

left

even understand what she

should have just