Skylar Lab Rats Novels & Stories

It’s dingy and the air feels dry despite having liquids randomly dripping from the clammy ceiling. Slowly, he started hearing screams mixed with guffaws… must be from pleasure of watching someone in pain. Along the sticky walls are cells of deranged people which were once sane. They were tortured until they lost all of their reasonings and just became one of Mr. Hunt’s lab rats—experiments which never worked. Kaiser focused his attention towards the light at the end of the tunnel-like cell, trying not to get distracted by the figures humping and twisting, groaning with lust.

SKYLAR POV That bruise that will stain your skin right now, he whispered—It will be the least I will do to you if you disobey me—He whispered while caressing my back. Have you masturbated?—He asked me and sat back down in his chair in silence. What did we talk about repeating things, Skylar? He snapped. "Do I have to answer that?" I asked, somewhat confused. He nodded. "Yes, I masturbated." His eyes lit up when I answered.

Skylar added, taking a deep breath. She stood behind Felan and placed her hands on Felan’s temples. She worked her magic and projected the memory on the wall. Felan closed her eyes and waited until it was over. She didn’t need to resee it to know what happens. The room was eerily silent, and everyone was staring at the wall. Skylar moved her hands and waited for somebody to say something.

"Drink, dance, and party all night, Alarick. Soon, you'll be begging me to give you back your little Luna. I scuff as I see Skylar and his mate sitting at a table nearby. So they are friends. I should have known. No wonder he wasn't hesitant to help their pack the last time I tried to attack them. "We'll just have to see who is more resilient, little Ricky. You... Or me?" I ask as I stare in anger at the screen before me, clenching my jaw and fisting my hands. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Perfused in his thoughts, he was seriously beginning to consider pretending not to have recovered from his injuries yet, to delay Skylar's execution During the day Grendel had been busy spreading the news of Skylar's execution throughout the city and installing the execution device he had specially designed for the occasion. The meticulous scientist that he was neglected no detail. Despite the lycan king's multiple refusals, he had never taken his final goal of reducing werewolves to slavery from his mind, and he intended to take advantage of this execution, which would appease the anger of the pack, to spread his ideals. In the evening, he returned to his laboratory where he then spent more

I screamed against the gag, the sound barely more than a desperate whine that only seemed to fuel him. He paused, looking directly into my wide, teary eyes. “Are you thinking of Cicada now, little wolf?” “God, he’s beautiful when he’s cruel,” Skylar purred, dripping lust into my terrified mind.

And I was thankful for that. SKYLAR'S POV:- I was sitting on my bed, chewing my nails nervously. It had been an hour since Adam left. I was not sure if she would be back or not. I frowned as I suddenly tasted something bitter in my mouth. "Looks like he came back empty handed." I heard Scarlett, my wolf excited voice. Yes, my wolf woke up the very day I was mated with Adam. She was very wild and wonderful. She had big brown fur and orange eyes. She was not as tall as Anika's wolf, but she was very beautiful. Her tail was long and furry. I really loved her.

Skylar equally shook her head before turning to her bag pack, she unzipped it to take out another bottle of water but halted and clenched her head when echoes suddenly erupted, screams of people, especially children. Noticing the discomfort of the she-wolf, Shailyn instantly went on a kneeling position, placing her hands on her shoulders. "Mistress, what's wrong?" "I - don't - know!" Skylar gritted, clenching her head tighter as more screams echoed in her head, the wails of children getting louder than the rest. She let out a little cry as she felt her wolf go wild in her head, yowling and tossing, mourning and grieving, barking and whimpering in dismay.

, he says. Oh how I've missed this man. His charms and most importantly his warm hugs and comforting scent of citrus and oak. "It's good that you're here now mr. Stepanov. We need your signature for the MRI scan. It will help us to determine how much of her brain function Miss Costello has back.", the doctor informs him. Not long after I can hear the scribbling of a pen. Noah is probably signing the permission slip. "Doctor, before you wheel her away, can you answer just one question I have?", he asks in his smooth tone.

Cairo hadn’t been Sean’s choice. FLASHBACK — MESSARA LAB, 1943 — NIGHT A stripped-down lab, crates stacked for retreat. A German doctor in a stained coat stood over a strapped Greek teenager. “Extraction,” he murmured for the log. “No anesthetic.” The boy screamed; orderlies held him. Vials clinked. A second table. A sobbing girl dragged into restraints, then stilled with the butt of a rifle. The doctor’s glare cut the guard to size. “You damage my subject, you answer to me.” Mixtures prepared, syringes loaded, notes scratched in a hand too calm for the room. Down in the catacomb, another body joined the heap. The silence learned to hold all of it.