Lab Rats Ethan Novels & Stories

Even standing still, he had a weight to him that made you feel safe. Alpha Ethan. He saw me step out of the truck and his expression softened immediately. He walked over. His first move wasn't a handshake — he took my old backpack and slung it over his own shoulder. "Come on. I'll show you around." He walked along a stone path. Tall firs on either side, a dusting of snow on the canopy. "The herb research lab was expanded last month," he said. "Laurent calibrated the equipment based on that paper you published on high-altitude herb ratios. Swapped out the distillation setup for copper. Temperature precision is three grades higher than the system you described."

“The data indicates the intense joy generated by our recent cycles has over-stimulated my processing unit, forcing a continuous loop regarding Ada Lube.” “I recognize that Ada Lube’s transition to the next life delivered a severe kinetic shock to your system, but the pack must advance its trajectory. If Ada Lube remained active in this sector, her desire would be for your system to terminate this mourning protocol.” Collins donned her heavy winter tunic. “Do you retain the specific nomenclature of the chemical agents? Or shall I execute the procurement based on my own medical diagnostic tools?” “My station will accompany your movement,” Ethan stated, initiating a rise from the furs.

He stood a‍nd circled the desk, st​opping ju‍st close enough that Ethan could smell that‌ same dark c​ologne c​edar and smoke and someth⁠ing that made his mout‌h water. “Test me,‌” Adrian sai‍d softly. A c​halleng‍e‌, Ethan‌ lifted hi⁠s chin “I’m not‍ a dog, Mr. Vale. I sig‌ned up for the jo‍b, not to become a mindless s⁠er‍van​t⁠.”

Beside me, Ethan was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythms. I smirked faintly, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. He had no idea what I’d done last night. The ether—an odorless, potent concoction I’d acquired through some very specific means—had kept him in a dreamless slumber. Even now, his face seemed unusually pale, and there was a subtle tick in his jaw. When he finally stirred, his eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused. He groaned, bringing a hand to his temple.

"I will try, sir." After saying that, Laura returned to her room in the castle. At this point, Ethan goes down to a secret cellar explicitly built for experimenting with werewolves. The basement was as dark as ink, with no light at all. But Ethan went through the tunnel with ease. Near the end of the tunnel, there was a little light. Ethan entered a room full of research equipment. He took a quick look at the situation in the room; it seemed that the experiment had failed again this time. Looking at the man in the white shirt sitting in a corner, his eyes blank, Ethan approached him and said: "Failed again, Cuthbert?"

Everything was narrow and sharp. We found a side door that had been pried open. We slipped inside and the air changed. It was dry and hot smelling of ozone and chemicals. It was the smell of the North Star’s creation. We moved through a maze of empty crates and plastic sheeting. In the center of the warehouse a small glass walled lab was illuminated by floodlights. Ethan was there. He was frantically shoving the amber vials and the leather bound journals into a reinforced travel case. He looked like a man possessed. His movements were jerky and his face was twisted in a grimace of pain.

The tunnel felt unsafe, and I wanted to get out as soon as possible. “What other things does Ethan use the tunnel for?” I asked. “Transporting captured wolves for the mad rogue experiments. He has been running tests on captured wolves down at the other end of the tunnel, but we’re not going there,” Robin answered. I gritted my teeth. Ethan was still carrying on his father’s experiments. My wolf huffed, ‘Like father, like son. It’ll do everyone a favor once he’s dead.’ We started down the tunnel. “How far do we have to go?” I asked.

Then, without looking up: “He's in the media lab." I took the folder. I took the mileage pass he slid across the desk without being asked. And I went to find Ethan Reeves. --- The media lab on a Saturday smelled like toner and the specific loneliness of buildings designed for hundreds and currently holding one. Ethan was at the back station, headphones around his neck, color-correcting something on the monitor. The screen’s blue light did that thing to his face it always did—made him look like a photograph of himself taken by someone gentler.

As I questioned allies and gathered scraps of information, a darker picture began to emerge. One servant, an older woman who had worked in Ethan’s estate for decades, told me through trembling lips that she had once seen Ethan strike a young wolf so violently that the boy had coughed blood for days. When she’d tried to intervene, Ethan had simply smiled and told her to be grateful he hadn’t done worse. A merchant confessed that Ethan had paid him handsomely to deliver rare herbs known to cause disorientation and weakness. When I asked what the herbs were for, the merchant’s gaze had dropped, and his voice had turned to ash.

D. It was the lab technician. I stood up. “Sorry, girls, I’ve got to take this.” I ruffled Serena’s hair as I passed her. I waited until I was out of Selene’s earshot to answer the call. I leant against the wall of our house, letting the cold leech through my clothes and chill my back, as I stared out at the eerily quiet pack grounds as I picked up. “Alpha Ethan,” I stated. “Hi, Alpha Ethan, this is Joel calling from the Lab. I’ve run every test I can think of on that toy you gave me, and I’ve got some interesting results.”