LOGINAmaya POV
I ran before I could even think of anything.My feet slam against hallway floors, not caring who sees me, not caring about the stares or the whispers that follow. My chest is tight, too tight, like someone's wrapped iron bands around my ribs and they're squeezing tighter with every breath.
Mate.
That word. That single word echoing in my skull in a voice that wasn't quite human.
I didn't survive six months of hell just to be claimed by three alphas who think I belong to them because of some biological accident. I'm not anyone's mate. I'm not anyone's anything I'm just me...
I burst through a door, my assigned room, the one Principal Thorne showed me this morning when I woke up. I slam it shut, twist the lock, and immediately start pulling open drawers. There's not much, a few uniforms, basic toiletries, nothing that's actually mine because I don't have anything anymore.
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely grip the bag I find in the closet. I shove clothes inside, not folding, not caring. Just need to move. Getting out of here is the next big thing.
Heat. It slams into my abdomen like a fist, sudden and vicious. I double over, gasping, the bag falling from my fingers.
No. Not now. Not yet. It's too soon.
But I know this feeling. The facility made sure I knew it intimately, the artificial heats they triggered with their injections, over and over, studying how my body responded, how far they could push before I broke.
This is worse. This is real.
My skin is on fire, crazy and intense. Every nerve ends screaming. The room spins and I stumble to the desk, yanking open the drawer where I hid the suppressant I stole from the facility's medical wing during my escape. Three syringes left. My hands shake as I grab one.
Tears blur my vision. I can barely see the needle as I pull off the cap with my teeth, can barely find the vein in my arm. The first jab misses. The second..
The needle slides in. I press the plunger, sobbing as the cold liquid burns through my bloodstream.
"Please work," I whisper, pressing my forehead against the desk. "If you don't,I'm totally in a big and crazy mess."
For a moment, the heat reduces. Just a moment. Then it roars back twice as strong.
I screamed, biting down on my arm to muffle the sound. My body is betraying me again, just like it did on that table, and I can't, I can't do this again.. The door explodes inward. Wood splinters. The lock tears free. Three bodies fill the doorway, massive, powerful, eyes glowing that inhuman gold.
Alvaro in the center, the dark-haired one from the roof. Javier to his left, blonde and brutal-looking. Luciano on the right, black hair, silver eyes that are currently fixed on me like I'm prey.
"Get out," I rasp, backing against the wall. "Get out,I said get out.."
Alvaro nostrils flare. His eyes lock on the syringe still dangling from my arm. His face twists, rage and something else, something that looks almost like pain.
"What did you inject?" His voice is rough, barely controlled.
"Suppressant." I rip the needle out, throw it at him. It bounces off his chest. "To stop this. To stop you."
Javier moves faster than I can track, suddenly right in front of me, gripping my chin and tilting my head back. His touch burns. Everything burns.
"You're hurting yourself," he growls. "We can smell the chemicals in your blood. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking I don't want to be claimed!" I shove at his chest but he doesn't budge. "I don't want this bond. I don't want any of you. Just, reject me. Please. Say you reject me and let me go in peace,I promise I won't fight you all."
"No." Alvaro voice cuts through the room like a blade.
"Mates are sacred," Luciano adds, his voice quieter but no less intense. "We don't reject our mate."
"Then I reject you!" The words tear out of my throat, desperate. "I, Amaya, reject…"
Pain explodes through my chest. Not physical pain, something deeper, something that feels like my soul is being ripped apart. I collapse, and Javier catches me before I hit the floor.
"Stop," he orders, lowering me onto the bed. "You're killing yourself. The bond won't allow rejection. Not this strong. Not this fast."
"I don't care." I'm crying now, full sobs that shake my whole body. "I can't do this. I can't be owned again. I can't.."
The heat surges again, vicious and uncontrollable. My back arches off the bed. A sound rips from my throat, half scream, half something else, something needy that I hate.
All three of them go rigid. The air in the room thickens, charged with tension so heavy I can barely breathe through it.
"Out," Alvaro snaps at the other two. "Both of you, out now."
"Like hell," Javier growls, but there's strain in his voice. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, shaking with the effort of not moving.
I can't think. Unable focus. My body is moving on instinct, reaching for the closest one, Luciano . My fingers dig into his shirt, clawing at fabric and the muscle beneath. He catches my wrists, holding them away from him, but I'm already leaning in, pressing my face against his throat, breathing in his scent. Pine and night air and something dark that makes my wolf howl inside my skull.
"Amaya." My name on his lips sounds like a prayer and a warning. "You need to stop."
But I can't. I'm kissing his throat, his jaw, tasting salt and smoke. He makes a sound low in his chest, half growl, half groan.
Alvaro is there suddenly, pulling me back, pinning my arms against my sides. "You're not in control. This isn't you."
"I know!" I thrash against his hold but he's too strong. They're all too strong. "I know this isn't me. The facility, they did something to me. Broke something. I can't control the heats, they come too fast, too strong.."
I break off, gasping, as another wave hits. My entire body trembles violently. I'm burning from the inside out and the only thing that would help, the only thing my instincts are screaming for, is them.
"Please," I beg, but I don't know what I'm begging for anymore. For them to leave? For them to stay? For this to stop? For it to never stop?
Javier kneels in front of me, his hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. "Tell us what they did to you."
"Experiments." The word is barely a whisper. "Heat experiments. Breeding program. They wanted perfect hybrids. Needed, females who could.."
I can't finish. Can't say it out loud. But they understand. I can see it in their faces, the fury, the horror, the murderous rage that makes their eyes glow brighter.
"We're going to kill them," Alvaro says quietly. "Every single one of them."
"I don't want revenge." My voice cracks. "I just want this to stop. I don't want to want you. I don't want this bond. I don't want.."
But my body betrays me again, pressing back against Alvaro chest, seeking his warmth, his scent, his touch. My wolf is clawing at the inside of my skull, snarling one word over and over.
Claim them. Claim them. Claim them.
"I don't want this," I sob, even as my body trembles violently, even as heat coils tighter in my abdomen, even as every instinct I have screams the opposite. "Please..."
But deep inside, underneath the fear and the trauma and the desperation, my wolf whispers with absolute certainty:
Claim them.
Amaya's POV The lab door closes behind me.And all I can do is pray my mates are smart enough to see the trap before it's too late.But knowing them?They're walking in anyway.The door to the lab hisses shut and I'm strapped to an examination table before I can process what's happening. The restraints are reinforced—designed for enhanced subjects. No amount of struggling will break them.Dr. Voss enters, pulling on surgical gloves with practiced efficiency."This would be so much easier if you'd cooperate," she says, almost conversational. "The extraction process is painful. Sedation helps, but given your enhanced healing, standard dosages won't work properly.""You're insane," I spit."I'm visionary. There's a difference." She prepares a syringe. "This will hurt. I'm sorry for that. But the data we gather will save thousands of lives. Eventually."The needle approaches my arm.Then the entire building shakes. Explosion. Close.Voss stumbles. The syringe clatters to the floor.Alarm
Amaya's POVThe person behind Emma is young. Maybe mid-twenties. Blonde hair, athletic build, completely unremarkable except for the way they're standing—too still, too controlled, like a predator pretending to be prey.I recognize them from the files. Project Eleven.Enhanced speed and reflexes. Capable of moving faster than the eye can track."Let her go," I say, keeping my voice steady. "Whatever you want, it's with me. Not her.""That's where you're wrong." Project Eleven's smile doesn't reach their eyes. "I want all of you to understand something. The people who sent me? They're not playing games anymore."Emma's terrified, tears streaming down her face. "Amaya, I'm sorry. They were in the apartment when I got home. They made me call—""Shh." Eleven's hand tightens on her shoulder. "No one's blaming you, Emma. You did exactly what you were supposed to."My mates are tensed beside me, ready to attack. But Eleven is faster than all of us combined. If they want to hurt Emma, they'll
Amaya's POV"Potentially. We're working on locating them, offering protection." Morrison looks troubled. "But some of them don't want to be found. They're in hiding, scared, traumatized. And I can't say I blame them.""We should reach out," I say. "Other survivors. People who understand what they're going through. Maybe they'd trust us.""That's actually a good idea." Morrison makes a note. "Could help us build a support network. Protect each other."My phone buzzes. I check it reflexively.Unknown number. My stomach drops.Unknown: That was exciting. But you're still missing the bigger picture. Genesis wasn't the only one interested in enhanced wolves. We're just getting started.I show the others."That's not Stone," Morrison says immediately. "She's been in custody the whole time.""Then who?" Alvaro demands.Another message comes through. This one's a photo.Of me. Taken through a window. At the safe house. This morning.When we were all tangled together in bed."They were watchin
Amaya's POVEverything happens in slow motion.Morrison reaches for his weapon. Stone fires first—not at him, at the computer. It explodes in sparks. The office plunges into chaos.Luciano moves in front of me, a wall of muscle and protection. Alvaro's already shifted partially, claws extended. Javier's calculating angles, looking for an exit."Don't make this difficult," Stone says calmly, gun now pointed at Morrison. "We just want the girl. The rest of you can walk away.""Not happening," all three of my mates snarl in unison."Then people die." Stone's expression doesn't change. "Your choice."The bond is screaming. My mates want to fight, want to protect me, but they're outgunned. Four armed adults against three college students and one federal agent whose weapon is still holstered.We're going to lose this.Unless I do something."Okay," I say, stepping around Luciano. "Okay, I'll go with you.""Amaya, no—" Javier starts."Nobody else needs to die because of me." I meet Stone's e
Javier's POVI find her in the shower at 6 AM.Not intentionally—I was going to make coffee, heard the water running, and every protective instinct told me to check. Make sure she's okay. Safe.What I find instead makes my mouth go dry.She's pressed against the tile wall, forehead resting on her arm, water cascading down her body. Not crying. Just existing. Trying to find a moment of peace in the chaos.I should leave. Give her privacy. But the bond is pulling at me, showing me her exhaustion, her fear, the weight she's carrying alone."Amaya," I say quietly.She startles, turning. Water streams down her face, her body. She doesn't try to cover herself. We're past that kind of modesty now."How long have you been standing there?" she asks."Just now. I heard the water and wanted to make sure you were okay.""I'm fine.""You're hiding in the shower at 6 AM. That's not fine." I lean against the doorframe, giving her space. "Talk to me."She's quiet for a long moment. Then, "I can feel
Luciano's POVI can't sleep.It's 3 AM and I'm at the window again, watching the street below. Looking for threats that might not even exist. But that text message—those messages—they're not random.Someone's watching Amaya. Watching all of us.And I'm going to find them.Behind me, the bedroom is quiet. Amaya's tucked between Javier and Alvaro, finally sleeping after tossing and turning for hours. The bond shows she's restless even in sleep, dreaming of things I can't see but can feel through our connection.Fear. Uncertainty. The weight of being watched.My phone buzzes. Morrison, responding to my message from an hour ago.Morrison: Traced the number. Burner phone. Dead end. But we're pulling security footage from campus. I'll have something by morning.Me: Not good enough. We need more.Morrison: I know. Working on it. Get some rest.Rest. Right. Like that's happening.I pull up the photos from the messages on my laptop, studying them. Whoever took these knew our schedule. Knew whe







