Page 129 of Unhinged Alphas

Crumble.

The panic claws at my throat.

Threatens to choke me.

I close my eyes. Try to steady my breathing.

Think of Ivy.

Her scent.

Her smile.

Focus on that.

Only that.

Pretend it's her hands on my face, not theirs.

Her hands on my skin.

Time blurs.

Minutes?

Hours?

I don't know.

More tests.

More pain.

They take blood.

Tissue samples.

Even bone marrow.

Grit my teeth.

Bite back the roars that want to tear free.

The screams.

They think I'm sedated.

Finally, a lull.

The scientists step back.

Confer in low voices.

I strain to hear.

"He's awake," one mutters. "Fully conscious."

"The brain scans are showing full activity."