Mila sat curled up in the corner of the sofa, her face buried in a plush pillow, her shoulders trembling as she sobbed. "She called me out, said I wasn’t qualified to use the lab bench… and accused me of stealing her data. But those results, I ran them myself, batch by batch…"
"Does Sadie not see me as family?"
Alpha Levi leaned against the edge of his desk, his broad frame towering over the room, his chiseled jaw tense. His piercing eyes were downcast, lost in thought. He didn’t even look at Mila, merely mumbling absentmindedly, "Don’t cry."
The tepid consolation felt like a weak but soothing balm, momentarily quieting Mila’s tears.
"I know, Alpha Levi… you only care about Sadie." Mila’s eyes were red, but her voice was soft, as if it had been steeped in warm water. "But I never wanted to compete with her. I just hope… you two don’t quarrel because of me."
Hearing my name, Alpha Levi finally glanced at her, his gaze detached, his alpha aura filling the room with an unspoken authority. "Alright, once she cools down, let her out."
"She’ll understand… after all, you’re her sister." Alpha Levi patted Mila’s head gently, the gesture awkward and unsure, his large hand dwarfing her small frame.
Suddenly, Mila flung herself into his arms with a dramatic cry, "Alpha, aside from my parents, you’re the only person who’s truly been kind to me… I just want a home."
"...I know."
Since Mila was ten, Alpha Levi had been her support, and that constant had never changed. Through the years, Mila’s wish had always remained simple: She wanted a family.
What was wrong with wanting that?
Still feeling unsettled after leaving the office, Alpha Levi turned and dialed another number, his deep voice carrying a note of command: "Is the room temperature set? Are the extra blankets in place? Has she eaten?"
On the other end, Delta Owen chuckled, a hint of smugness mixed with an eagerness to please in his voice. "Don’t worry, Alpha. Gamma Sadie’s had her fill and is sound asleep, quiet as a mouse."
Alpha Levi exhaled, his tone easing slightly, though his alpha tone still lingered. "She shouldn’t have blamed you guys."
...
In the freezing room, scraps of burnt paper floated in the air.
I huddled close to the fire, listening to the beeping from the walkie-talkie again. Outside, there was still no one. My knuckles had turned purple from the cold as I staggered to my feet, sifting through a pile of old toolboxes.
Behind them, I discovered a yellowed lab notebook. The cover displayed Alpha Levi’s handwriting—neat and precise. It contained the original data from the experiments I had helped him with three years ago.
Back then, we had spent countless nights running data, tweaking formulas, and wishing we could live in the lab. I had once been in the cold room with him too, working until we were both shivering, sharing coffee to stay warm. He’d give me a hot water bottle, and I’d share my hot chocolate with him.
There was a time when I fainted at the lab bench from low blood sugar, and Alpha Levi had caught me, his strong arms steadying me as he barked orders for someone to bring me food, his alpha tone sharp with worry.
Now, it was Mila in his arms.
Sitting against the wall, I clutched the notebook and cried my heart out. I had finally found proof of Mila’s plagiarism, but what did it matter now?
The experiments were ruined, the honor was gone, and even my mate was slipping away. Before the tears could fall, they turned to frost.
Tearing up the notebook, I whispered to myself, "Alpha Levi won’t rescue me anymore."
"I have to save myself."
I tossed the shredded pages into the fire. The flames crackled and danced, casting an eerie light on my face.
I had to survive.
