Page 86 of The Alpha Under My Bed

I fought to keep my eyes open, fought against the pull of whatever the fuck she had pumped into me. But it was a losing battle.

I woke to the scent of bleach and sterile plastic.

The air was cold—too cold. It pressed against my skin, licking at my arms, my legs, my throat. My head pounded, sluggish and disoriented, my limbs heavy. I tried to move.

I couldn’t.

Restraints.

Thick, unyielding straps dug into my wrists and ankles, pinning me to a cold, unforgiving metal surface. My heart hammered in my chest, panic rising like a tidal wave, slamming against my ribs with each frantic pulse.

No.

No, no, no, no.

Memory crashed into me in jagged, disjointed fragments—Claudia, the alley, the needle. The way my body had betrayed me, failing me when I needed it most.

My breath hitched, sharp and shallow. I flexed against the restraints, testing them again—desperate to break free—but they didn’t give. Not even a fraction.

I forced my eyes open, the harsh light searing my vision.

Bright. Blinding. Fluorescent. The hum of the overhead lights buzzed faintly, reflecting off the sterile white tiles that lined the walls. A lab. A fucking lab.

The air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals—sharp, stinging. But beneath that, a smell I knew all too well.

Acrylics. Perfume.

Claudia.

A surge of panic lashed through me, violent and raw.

She drugged me. She fucking took me. What the hell does she want from me?

I yanked at the straps again, my arms straining, my legs jerking in futile resistance. The sedative still buzzed in my veins, dulling my senses, weakening my limbs, keeping me docile and trapped in this nightmare.

Movement.

A shadow crossed the room—long, slow. A laugh. Soft, sweet, but manic, like something just under the surface was snapping.

Claudia.

She stepped into my line of sight, grinning that same sickening smile. She was still dressed in her work clothes—her beige blouse pristine, the pencil skirt hugging her body like she hadn’t just fucking kidnapped me.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” she purred, her voice almost mocking in its sweetness.

I bared my teeth, rage bubbling up like a burning fire. “Let me the fuck out of this chair.”

Claudia’s smile only widened, a dark, knowing curve of her lips. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her voice syrupy with false comfort as she clicked her tongue. She paced beside me, trailing her fingers along the cold metal of the table, as though she were admiring a piece of art. “You don’t even know why you’re here yet.”

My stomach twisted in dread, my pulse spiking.

I yanked harder at the restraints, every muscle straining, desperate to break free, to fight back, to do anything but lie therelike a helpless, discarded doll. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Claudia hummed, her head tilting as if considering a puzzle. Then she leaned down, her breath hot against my ear, her voice low and dangerous.

“I need what you have.”

Ice. Pure ice slid down my spine, freezing me from the inside out.

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