Mesmerised by the Alpha

Chapter 29. The Second Rescue

I watched from my window as the last of the taillights disappeared through the iron gates. Nate was there too—of course he was. Him, Stella, the construction crew, even George. Cars packed and engines roaring, tyres crunching over the wet gravel. A perfect storm, quite literally. The thunder had come just in time.

I tied my hair back in a ponytail and threw on my hoodie. The moment they were gone, I slipped out of my room and padded quickly through the corridors, heart hammering against my ribs. The air was damp, heavy with the smell of old stone and something sour, almost chemical. Maybe it was just the storm. Maybe not.

The door to the restricted lab gave a faint groan as I turned the master key. I slipped inside, locking it behind me, and took a deep breath.

The smell hit me first—stale cigarettes, grease, something metallic. My eyes scanned the clutter. Fast food cartons, some squashed, others greasy and half-full. An ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. Someone had been spending a lot of time in here.

I moved slowly around the space, stepping over discarded gloves and bits of paper. My eyes caught on a collection of glasses lined up like something from a science fair. Inside each one, a strange purple liquid shimmered under the flickering lights. I bent closer. The smell was sharp—floral, bitter, cloying. My gaze shifted to the dried flowers hanging from the beams above.

I found a pile of documents scattered across the desk and began to flick through them.

“Wolfsbane infusion: to be steeped in alcohol and sugar—potency maximised after 72 hours.”

There were diagrams, charts, instructions, even detailed lists of ingredients. So that's what the flowers were - Wolfsbane! My eyes widened as I spotted the glass vials—dozens of them, neatly stacked in trays. Each filled with the same purple liquid. Deadly, if the notes were to be believed.

Then, beside the vials… bullets.

Bullets dipped in the poison.

“What the hell is this?” I whispered, half-horrified. This wasn’t just hunting gear. This was warfare. And not against animals. No sane hunter dipped bullets in Wolfsbane to shoot at deer.

I flicked further. Keys, books, documents. One document caught my eye. A black-and-white photo of a man and a woman. Their faces were crossed out in red pen. Deceased. Alpha terminated. Heir confirmed.

My fingers hovered over the edge of the paper, a chill prickling across my skin. There it was again. Alpha. That word kept cropping up like a stubborn weed in the back of my mind.

Curious now, I thumbed through the rest of the pile. More photographs followed. Some in colour, some grainy and printed on cheap paper, like photocopies. Every single one was the same—faces of people I didn’t recognise, all scratched out with pen. Big, jagged crosses slashed over their features. Beside each one, the same word. Deceased.

Some had extra notes scrawled in the margins—"Beta class, eliminated"; "Gamma, no trace of heir"; "Location compromised. Asset removed." One picture showed a young boy, maybe ten or eleven, standing beside a man and woman. Only the woman’s face had been crossed out.

My stomach turned.

Who were these people? And why keep a gallery of their deaths like this? It felt methodical, almost clinical—like they were ticking names off a list. A hit list.

The rest of the papers were dull in comparison—maps, invoices for weapons and tools. Boring admin. But I kept the details in mind just in case. Something was seriously wrong here. Someone was preparing for something… big.

I backed away from the desk, heart still pounding, and made my way to the back of the lab, where the makeshift cells were kept. I hesitated at the door before pushing it open.

The whimper reached me before anything else did.

Fingers trembling, I flicked on the lights, the harsh glow washing over rows of empty cells—except for one.

In the far corner, chained to the wall, lay a wolf.

She was huge. Not as large as the black wolf I’d seen before, but still massive. Her fur was matted and bloodied, her side wrapped in a filthy bandage, and her ear was torn. As I stepped closer, she snarled weakly and dragged herself to the far wall.

“Oh, God…” I breathed.

There was a clipboard hanging from the bars. I snatched it up and skimmed the notes.

"Female, dosed every 12 hours – serum.

Do not use Wolfsbane until experiment is over – Ezra wants long-term effects documented.

Mindlink has been suppressed by liquid silver. Make sure to redose daily.

Subject due to be turned back in 7 days to extract intel on Alpha."

“What…?” I muttered, flipping the page. It read like something out of a horror novel. What serum? What intel? And what did they mean by "turned back"?

Were they saying this wolf was… human?

My hands were shaking. I looked at her again. Her eyes—smart, pained, aware—met mine. She wasn't snarling anymore. Just staring. Waiting.

“Oh, screw it,” I said aloud.

I rushed to the cage door. Locked. Of course it was. I looked around in frustration until I saw the wolf nudge her snout toward a cupboard on the wall.

“Really?” I muttered, but jogged over, opening it to reveal a board of keys. My breath caught. I started trying them, one by one, until finally—

Click.

The door swung open. I paused. This was it. The moment she could maul me to death, or…

I stepped forward cautiously, hands up in peace. “I’m not here to hurt you, okay?”

She didn’t move.

I knelt by her side, examining the thick chains around her legs. “Right… these keys won't fit those locks. I'm sure there were some more inside the desk.”

I shot to my feet and hurried back to the desk, rifling through the drawers with shaking hands. My fingers closed around a set of keys, but in my haste, I fumbled them. They clattered against the bottom of the drawer—but the sound wasn’t hollow like I’d expected. It was dull. Solid.

Frowning, I ran my hand along the base, feeling for anything unusual. The bottom felt stiff, unmoving—until I gave it a firm tug. With a creak and a reluctant shift, the false panel lifted, revealing a hidden compartment beneath.

Inside was a battered, leather-bound diary.

“I'll come back for this later,” I muttered, pocketing the keys and returning to the wolf.

“Sorry, again,” I whispered, crouching before her. Her ears twitched, but she didn’t growl this time. I tried key after key until—click. The chains dropped.

She stood on wobbly legs, panting hard but managing. I stood too, scanning the room. We had to go. Now.

“Come on,” I whispered.

To my surprise, she followed me without hesitation. I locked the cage again, replaced everything where I found it, and led her out, checking the CCTV on my phone. No sign of anyone. Still safe.

Down the stairs, we crept, ducking cameras, slipping through shadows. I reached the rear exit. Almost there.

And then—

“Jasmine?”

I froze. Dana.

She stepped into the corridor, eyes falling on the wolf instantly. Her gaze flicked to mine. My mouth went dry.

But she didn’t scream. Didn’t shout.

Then noise came from the main entrance.

Voices. Doors. Laughter. The heavy creak of the front doors swinging open.

Dana looked at me for a long moment, then glanced towards the noise at the front of the hotel. The growing sound of boots and chatter echoed through the stone.

“Don’t worry, love,” she said, her voice low and steady. “I’ll keep them busy. You get her out of here.”

Then, before I could say a word, Dana turned and marched towards the entrance hall, her voice booming:

“You’re all soaked through! Back to the bar—go on! I’ve made hot chocolate for everyone!”

I whispered a silent thank you to the universe, pushed open the door, and looked at the wolf.

“Go. Run.”

She didn’t hesitate. Limping but determined, she made her way into the night, pausing only once at the treeline. Our eyes met—hers full of something fierce, something grateful.

Then she disappeared.

I locked the door behind her, slumped against it, and let the breath out of my lungs.

My hands were trembling. My knees weak. But my heart? It burned.

“Not bad, Jasmine,” I muttered. “Two wolves in one day.”

I had no idea what any of it meant yet—Ezra, the Alpha, the poison, the bullets. But one thing was clear:

Someone was planning a war.

And I’d just chosen my side.