The Alpha’s Shattered Mate: Her Secret Triplets
They moved in perfect, unnerving unison, their boots hitting the floor at the exact same millisecond.
They wore the tactical gear of the Silver Moon elite guard. They carried the scent of pine and cold iron. But when the sterile white light of the lab hit their faces, I felt my stomach drop into a cold pit of dread. They were not human, and they were not exactly wolves. Their eyes were flat, milky white spheres, devoid of any soul or individuality.
"Killian, do not move," I whispered, my hand reaching for the console to steady myself.
"They are my men, Elara," Killian rasped, his eyes fixed on the lead figure. "That is Commander Harlen. I would know his scent anywhere."