Taming the alpha twins

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*CHAPTER 1: BLOOD TYPE OMEGA*

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and death at 2:13 AM.

Dr. Charlotte Vale leaned against the nurse station, her third cup of coffee gone cold in her hand. 36 hours on shift. Her eyes burned. Her white coat had a coffee stain on the sleeve, and a tiny tear near the pocket where she’d caught it on a gurney earlier.

She was 26. Too young to look this tired.

“Donation drive in Room 4,” Nurse Maya called out, voice hoarse. “ER is bleeding out. We’re critically low on O-negative.”

Charlotte closed her eyes. Of course she was.

“I’m O-negative,” she said quietly.

Maya looked up, relieved. “Thank God. You’re a lifesaver, Char.”

Charlotte wasn’t a lifesaver. She was just a doctor. A tired, broke, orphaned doctor who paid her rent by working double shifts at St. Mercy General.

She pushed open the door to Room 4 and stopped.

This wasn’t a normal donation setup.

The room was bigger. Private. Two armed guards stood outside. Inside, the lights were dim. The air felt... heavy. Like something was pressing on her chest.

On the bed was a man.

He wasn’t just injured. He was dying.

Pale skin, almost gray. A gunshot wound to the chest, still seeping black blood. Silver residue around the edges. Silver bullets. For werewolves.

Tattoos crawled up his neck and disappeared under his suit . His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. Even bleeding out, he looked dangerous. Like a predator forced into a cage.

“Alpha Valentine Wolfe,” Dr. Harris whispered behind her. The head surgeon. He looked pale too. “He was ambushed 20 minutes ago. If we don’t get O-negative in him in the next 10 minutes, we lose him.”

Charlotte frowned. “Alpha?”

“Don’t ask questions, Doctor Vale. Just donate.”

She didn’t like this. But people were dying.

She rolled up her sleeve. The needle went in cold. She watched her own blood, dark red, travel through the tube and into his IV.

One bag.

Two bags.

And then it happened.

Heat.

It started in her chest. A snap. Like a rubber band breaking. Like a lock clicking open.

Valentine’s eyes snapped open.

Gold. Not human gold. Wolf gold. Glowing. Hungry.

He inhaled sharply, and the sound was a growl.

“Mine,” he rasped. His voice was wrecked, broken, but the word hit her like a punch.

Charlotte yanked her arm back. “What—”

The monitors started screaming. His heart rate. 180. 200.

His chains rattled. He was handcuffed to the bed.

“Get her out!” Harris yelled.

But it was too late.

The doors slammed open.

Two more nurses. Three guards. And a man.

Charlotte’s breath caught.

Same face. Same jaw. Same black hair. Same dangerous energy.

But this one’s eyes were darker. Colder. And he was smiling.

“Brother,” the new man said, looking at Valentine on the bed. “You look like shit.”

“Don’t you dare touch her, Angelo,” Valentine growled, pulling against the chains. Blood welled at his wrists.

Angelo Wolfe. The twin.

He stepped into the room slowly, eyes never leaving Charlotte. Like he was memorizing her.

“Dr. Charlotte Vale,” Angelo said. He knew her name. “Age 26. O-negative. No family. Works 70 hour weeks.” He tilted his head. “Interesting.”

“How do you—”

“Because the second your blood touched him, the mate bond snapped,” Angelo finished. He stopped right in front of her bed. Close enough that she could smell him. Cedar and blood and something wild.

Charlotte stumbled back. “That’s not real. Mate bonds aren’t real.”

Valentine laughed. It was bitter and pained. “Tell that to the bond burning in your chest, little doctor.”

She did feel it. A pulling. A warmth. Like someone had tied a string around her heart and connected it to both of them.

“30 days,” Valentine said, his gold eyes locked on hers. He wasn’t looking at his brother anymore. Only her. “That’s the rule. 30 days to break the bond. Or we seal it.”

“And if we don’t?” Charlotte asked, voice shaking.

Victor answered. He leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of her. Trapping her.

“Then we go feral,” he whispered. “And wolves who go feral with an unclaimed mate... we don’t let them go.”

The guards moved in.

“Alpha orders,” one said. “You’re to be moved to the private wing. With them.”

“What? No, I have patients—”

“You saved an Alpha’s life,” Angelo cut her off. “Now you belong to us.”

They didn’t ask. They didn’t wait.

Within 10 minutes, Charlotte was in a car. Then an elevator. Then a room.

It wasn’t a hospital room. It was a suite. Black sheets. Floor to ceiling windows. One bed. Too big.

The door locked behind her with a click.

Valentine was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, bandages on his chest. He looked up when she came in.

Angelo followed her in and shut the door.

Two Alphas. One human doctor. One locked room.

Charlotte pressed her back to the door. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered.

Valentine stood. He was tall. 6'4 at least. He stopped 2 feet from her.

“Your blood saved me,” he said quietly. “Now we save each other.”

Victor moved to the other side of her.

“30 days, Doctor Vale,” he murmured in her ear. “Let’s see if you can rule our hearts... or if we break yours first.”

Charlotte closed her eyes. She was just supposed to donate blood.

She didn’t know that one bag would change everything.

She didn’t know she was about to rule the hearts of two Alphas.

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