All Chapters of Not Their Luna: A Female Alpha Story: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

Rhett The facility looms against the mountainside like a fortress built to contain nightmares. From our position half a mile away, I can see the security perimeter, the guard towers, the electronic surveillance that makes this place look more like a military installation than a research center.Somewhere in there, I think, checking my watch, Brynlee and our baby are running out of time. Dr. Gorian only cares about results. Eventually, he’ll push her too far and end up hurting them both."All teams in position," Harper's voice crackles through my earpiece. "Coordinated strike in sixty seconds."Around me, twelve other people crouch in the pre-dawn darkness—fathers, mothers, siblings, mates, all united by the government's decision that our loved ones were too dangerous to remain free. We're about to declare war on their authority, and none of us care about the consequences anymore.Through the mate bond, I can sense Brynlee's location somewhere deep in the facility's underground levels.

BrynleeThe sunlight feels impossible against my skin—too warm, too real, too different from the artificial lighting that's been my entire world for over two weeks. I keep expecting it to flicker or change color or reveal itself as another sophisticated fabrication designed to break my mind.But it doesn't. It stays steady and genuine, casting shadows that move naturally as clouds pass overhead.Real, I think tentatively. This might actually be real.Rhett's arm around my waist is solid and warm, his scent familiar in ways that artificial recreations couldn't replicate. But I've been wrong about what's real before. I've been convinced by lies so sophisticated that I couldn't tell the difference between truth and psychological manipulation.Test him again, the broken part of my mind whispers. Make sure he's not just another layer of Dr. Gorian's research."The night Maya was conceived," I say suddenly, stopping our movement toward whatever vehicle is supposed to take us away from this n

RhettThe emergency room at Denver General is chaos when we arrive—media crews trying to get statements, federal agents attempting damage control, and medical staff struggling to process twelve individuals who've been subjected to systematic psychological torture.But all of that fades to background noise when I see Brynlee sitting on an examination table, allowing a doctor to check her vital signs while she stares at her hands like she's still not entirely convinced they're real.Two weeks, I think with rage that threatens to overwhelm my need to be supportive. Two weeks of systematic psychological destruction that might take months or years to heal completely."Mr. Bennett?" Dr. Martinez—not the federal agent who took Brynlee, but a trauma specialist who's been briefed on what our people endured—approaches with the kind of careful expression that means she has news I won't want to hear."How is she?" I ask."Physically, better than expected. The pregnancy is progressing normally desp

Brynlee Three weeks home, and I'm finally starting to believe that some things are too detailed, too emotionally complex, too perfectly imperfect to be made up.Like the way Rhett makes coffee every morning—not the careful, precise measurements that a programmed simulation would use, but the slightly haphazard approach of someone who's still half-asleep. One morning too strong, the next morning too weak, always accompanied by soft cursing when he can't find his favorite mug.Real people have inconsistencies, I tell myself, watching him search through cabinets for the ceramic mug Maya made him last Father's Day. Fabrications would be more polished."Found it," he says with satisfaction, producing the lopsided mug that says "World's Best Daddy" in five-year-old handwriting.The genuine pleasure in his voice over something so mundane sends warmth through me that I'm finally learning to trust. Dr. Gorian's lies were sophisticated, but they focused on dramatic emotional moments rather than

RhettThe federal courthouse in Denver is surrounded by media trucks and protesters carrying signs that read everything from "Justice for Enhanced Individuals" to "Government Accountability Now." Dr. Gorian's trial has become a lightning rod for public debate about the Enhanced Individual Research Act, and today is the day I testify about what they did to my pregnant mate.The thought still sends rage through me so intense that Kian paces restlessly beneath my skin, demanding violence against everyone who participated in Brynlee's torture."Remember," Harper says as we approach the courthouse steps, "stick to facts, stay calm, and let your testimony speak for itself. The jury needs to see the human cost of this program, not just the legal violations. And they certainly don’t need a reason to think our kind deserve to be locked away."Right. I can do that. Brynlee's fractured ability to trust reality, her constant need to verify that our life is genuine, the weeks of careful healing req