Semua Bab THE ALPHA'S EX-MATE RETURNS WITH TRIPLETS: Bab 11 - Bab 18

LAURENE/SHANTELLEDr. Keiran ran me through everything that I needed to know and I came to understand that it was not just them that were there. They had other assistants but they were the top. I knew they were wary of me. I could sense the energy that they thought low of me. RAYMOND Sitting in my office, I haven't stepped out since I entered yesterday morning. There were lots of workloads and Zonal was going around the smaller packs in the north to see whose dead body that was. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling fatigue searing through me but I needed to finish this up and then move to go through the history of the pack. Maybe I could find something related to the plague. My father had indicated that I needed to look into it. Ever since he came down with the illness, he has been saying lots of things that didn't make sense to me. At least, they did to him. For years now, I have been looking to see if there was something more to the plague but I have not found anything yet. It was

I stared at the monitor before me, unable to make out what the profiles were indicating. The fact that all of them were purely doing well until they got infected by this plague, and everything went awry. Shantelle had warned me not to dig too deep into the data—her words echoed in my head like a persistent whisper, "Sometimes knowing doesn’t save us. It binds us." But I couldn’t stop. Each profile represented a life—a pack member whose existence had shifted from vibrant to fragile in mere days. The readings were erratic, the biomarkers fluctuating as though the disease wasn't just attacking the body but something deeper, something primal.Laurene leaned over my shoulder, her eyes scanning the same chaotic patterns. “It’s not just them,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s us.” I turned to her, confused. “What do you mean? We’re not infected.” “Not yet,” she replied, her voice colder than I expected. Her gaze met mine, steady and unnerving. “But this plague… it’s not natural. It’s

Here’s a detailed narrative exploring Shantelle’s point of view in this dramatic situation: ---Shantelle had always prided herself on her ability to stay calm under pressure. Working in a high-stakes mental health facility had taught her to manage crises with a steady hand. But this? This felt different. The halls of the facility were eerily quiet, save for the occasional shuffling of a nurse or the low hum of machinery. Dr. Thompson and Dr. Keiran, the senior clinicians, had stepped out for an important meeting, leaving her as the most experienced member of the staff on the floor. Her shift had started smoothly enough—routine check-ins with patients, reviewing treatment plans, and the usual paperwork that seemed endless. She’d just settled at her desk, taking a moment to sip her lukewarm coffee, when the first sounds of distress pierced the calm. It started as a low growl, almost imperceptible, but it grew quickly—a feral sound that sent chills down her spine. Shantelle set he

The quiet hum of the office enveloped Jessica as she worked diligently at her desk. The papers strewn before her detailed the intricacies of her latest case, but her focus faltered as her mind wandered. The events of the last few days had been overwhelming, to say the least. The precinct was still reeling from the chaos surrounding Angela's arrest, and tension hung in the air like an oppressive fog. Jessica leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as a faint headache began to pulse. She was no stranger to pressure, but something about this situation felt more complex than usual, as though there were pieces to the puzzle she hadn’t yet discovered. A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She straightened her posture, masking her fatigue with a professional demeanor. "Come in," she called, her voice steady. The door creaked open, and Bishop stepped inside. He moved with the calculated confidence of someone who always knew more than he let on. His expression