Page 125 of Claimed By the Psychos
The words penetrate the fog slowly, like trying to think through molasses. Rut. Artificial rut. The kind that strips away control, reduces alphas to their base instincts, makes them into exactly the monsters Evan thinks we are.
"He used to use it in the brothel," Felix says, and his voice is bitter as burnt coffee. "Pump it through the vents. Good for business, he said. Made sure everyone got what they paid for."
His hands are shaking, and I realize with a sick twist in my gut that he's waiting. Waiting for us to turn on them, to become the creatures his brother promised we'd be. Years of trauma condensing into this moment, this test, this proof that all alphas are the same in the end.
His brother may have brought him here to kill him, but it's clear he wants to break him first. And he's trying to use us as the weapon to do that.
Well, fuck that.
"But this is concentrated," he continues, words coming faster now, panic bleeding through. "It's not supposed to be this strong. Not supposed to hit this fast. You need to—you need to get away from us before?—"
"Before what?" The words come out as a growl, my voice already dropping into registers that don't sound human. "Before we prove your psychopath brother right? Before we turn into rabid animals who can't control ourselves? Not gonna happen, Felix."
Felix looks at me then, and there's surprise in those silver eyes. Like he expected something else, something worse, something that would confirm every fear he's been carrying since the day he presented.
"You think some fucking chemicals are going to make me hurt you?" I push myself to standing, even though every muscle screams and my blood feels like it's literally boiling. "That I'm going to touch either of you without consent because some asshole pumped drugs into the air?"
Carlisle gives a bitter laugh. "I'd kill the four of us before that happened. Weapons or not."
I know from experience he could make good on that promise, and fuck me, I'd let him.
"He thinks we're animals," Bane growls, and he's on his feet now too, massive frame trembling with rage and chemicals and the effort of maintaining control. "Thinks we're no better than the alphas who come to places like this."
Elias hasn't moved from his corner, hands pressed flat against the wall like he needs the anchor. "The pheromones are real," he says, voice clinical despite the strain. "The response is real. I can feel it, we all can. But?—"
"But we're not slaves to our biology anymore than you are," Carlisle finishes, and despite everything, despite the drugs coursing through our systems and the way Juniper's scent ismaking my mouth water, he sounds more sincere than he ever has. "And whatever alphas in the past have used that as an excuse, it wasn't one then, and it isn't one now. Credit where it's due though, this is creative. Unnecessary, but creative."
Juniper's been quiet through all of this, watching us closely. But she's not afraid. Not the way she was in that closet, not the way she should be locked in a room with four alphas being forced into rut.
If anything, she looks... relieved?
"They're not going to hurt us." It's not a question. She says it with the same certainty she'd say the sky is blue or Carlisle enjoys violence.
"Never," I tell her, and mean it down to my bones. "Not for any reason. Not for anything."
Felix is still staring at me, at all of us, like we're speaking a language he's never heard before. And maybe we are. Maybe everything he's known about alphas, everything he's been taught through pain and violation and years of watching the worst humanity has to offer, maybe it's all being rewritten in this moment. A guy can hope.
"We might be forced into rut," Elias says, still pressed against his wall but looking more composed now, more like the doctor we know. "But that doesn't change who we are. Doesn't change what you mean to us."
"Besides," Bane adds, and there's something almost like humor in his voice, "the adrenaline rush isn't entirely unwelcome. Might as well make use of it. Evan wants monsters? Let's show him how it's done."
He turns to the door, studying it with the kind of focus usually reserved for tactical planning. Then, without warning, he slams his shoulder into it. The whole room shakes with the impact, dust raining from the ceiling.
"That's reinforced steel," Felix says, but there's something like hope creeping into his voice.
"And I'm really fucking motivated." Bane hits it again, harder this time, and I swear I hear something crack. Not the door, maybe, but whatever's holding it in place.
Carlisle's already moving, examining the hinges with those clever fingers that know exactly where weakness hides. "Top hinge is rusted. Bottom one's newer but the screws are shit quality. We focus there."
"Together," I say, moving to join Bane. The pheromones are still screaming through my system, making every breath feel like swallowing fire, but now I have direction. Purpose. Something to do with all this artificial energy besides what Evan expects.
Elias pushes off from his wall, swaying slightly but determined. "On three?"
"Fuck counting," Bane growls, and we hit the door as one.
The impact rattles my teeth, sends shockwaves up my shoulder and down my spine. But there's satisfaction in it too, in taking all this forced aggression and pointing it at something useful. Something that gets us closer to freedom, closer to safety, closer to making Evan pay for every second of this nightmare.
"Again," Carlisle commands, and we pull back, ready for another run.
