The Prisoned Alpha

Chapter 4

The yard, a place of constant noise and tension, was unusually quiet, save for the low murmur of conversation and the rhythmic clang of the basketball against the worn asphalt. Xander sat on his familiar bench, a silent, imposing figure, his mind a fortress against the surrounding chaos. He was in his own world, a world where the wolfsbane was a constant dull ache and Bane’s rage was a low, simmering fire.

His enhanced senses, dulled but not deadened by the drug, picked up a low conversation from a few tables away. A small group of men, their voices laced with a crude, vulgar excitement, were talking about the new doctor.

“Heard she’s a looker,” one of them said, his voice a low, lascivious whisper. “The last one was a fat old man. This one’s supposed to be a real piece of work.”

“Yeah,” another replied, a hungry edge to his voice. “I’d get myself a shiv wound just to go to the infirmary with her. Bet she’d play nurse with me.”

A low growl rumbled in Xander’s skull, a sound like a distant, collapsing rock face. "New doctor? A lady doctor?" Bane’s voice was a dark, gravelly sound, filled with a primal curiosity. "This should be… entertaining. They usually have male doctors."

Xander, his eyes still fixed on the horizon, gave an almost imperceptible nod. First time for everything, he thought, his mind already bracing for the inevitable chaos that a new presence would bring to the prison.

Just then, the clanking of heavy chains announced the arrival of a guard. He held a set of manacles in his hand, a symbol of Xander's imprisonment and the deep fear he inspired.

“Mahon!” the guard called out, his voice a hard, metallic sound. “It’s time for your medication.”

Xander’s jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek jumping. The weekly ritual was a fresh, painful reminder of his humiliation and the slow decay of his strength. He extended his arms, his wrists bare and scarred, offering them to the guard. The chains were cold and heavy as they snapped into place.

Behave, Bane, he commanded, the thought a razor-sharp whisper in his mind.

Bane’s response was a low, guttural chuckle, a sound that echoed and reverberated through the hollow space in Xander's skull. "I make no promises, Alexander. I make no promises."

They made their way through the long, echoing halls of the prison, the guards flanking him, their faces grim and unyielding. The journey was a long, silent march to the infirmary, where they pushed him onto an examination table. The flimsy paper crinkled beneath his immense weight, a pathetic sound in the cold, sterile room.

As he settled on the table, a strange scent, a faint, almost imperceptible fragrance, drifted into his awareness. It was a scent that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, a scent that was both deeply familiar and utterly alien in this place.

Strawberries and mint.

Bane groaned inside his head, a sound of profound pleasure and deep confusion. "What… what is that delicious smell? Where is it coming from?"

A small, low growl vibrated in Xander’s chest, a deep, animalistic sound that rattled the bones of the guard closest to him. The guard’s brow furrowed, his hand instinctively going to the baton on his hip. Xander quickly cleared his throat, the small, human sound a desperate attempt to cover the primal roar beneath.

He told Bane to control himself, to settle, but he could feel the wolf pacing in his mind, its every thought a frantic, hungry search for the source of that intoxicating fragrance.

The door to the infirmary opened, and Xander looked up.

Time, which had been a slow, dragging weight, suddenly ceased to exist.

Standing in the doorway was a woman whose beauty was so profound it stopped his heart. Her hair, a soft, sandy blonde, framed a face of breathtaking sweetness. Her eyes, bright hazel, were full of a gentle innocence that had no place in this hell. She was wearing a beige blouse and black pants, a professional doctors coat, but on her, it looked like a dress of pure light.

As the door shut behind her, the scent, that glorious scent of strawberries and mint, hit him like a freight train. It was full force, a fragrant tidal wave that drowned out every other sound, every other sense, and in the deafening silence, Bane’s voice, a raw, primal roar, finally spoke the word.

"MATE!"

Xander’s body tensed, every muscle in his frame tightening as Bane tried to take control, scratching at the surface of his consciousness, desperate to get to her. He took a quick breath and held it, a desperate, futile attempt to block out the scent that was driving the beast inside him mad.

She took a step toward him, a sweet, innocent smile on her face. “Hello,” she said, her voice a soft, melodic sound that was a profound shock to his system. “My name is Olivia Kane. I’ll be your new doctor.”

Xander tried to force out a nod, but the muscles in his neck were a solid, unmoving block of concrete. He couldn't speak, he couldn’t make a sound, because he knew with a terrifying certainty that if he did, it would not be his voice that came out, but the dark, guttural growl of Bane. He was hanging on by a thread, a single strand of human will against the full, overwhelming force of his wolf.

She took another step, but the two guards, their faces grim, stopped her. “Doctor,” one of them said, his voice sharp and full of warning. “You’re just to give him the shot. Nothing more. You are not to talk to him.”

Bane, a creature of possessive fury, wanted to kill them. He wanted to tear them limb from limb for daring to speak to her in such a way. Xander tightened every muscle in his body, a desperate attempt to resist the wolf pushing forward, pushing against the chains that bound them both.

Then he felt a gentle touch on his arm, a touch that sent a thousand little electric jolts up and down his skin. He looked down and saw she had gently placed a hand on his forearm, and she was whispering to him, her voice a soft balm.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his, full of a deep, genuine concern. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

And just like that, Bane settled. The rage, the fury, the frantic pacing all slowed to a stop. He obeyed her, he trusted her, a small, quiet part of the wolf recognizing the undeniable authority of their mate. "Mate," he said again inside Xander’s head, the word now a low, contented purr.

Olivia, her eyes still on his, gently tied a rubber tourniquet around his bicep. Her fingers were light and gentle on his skin, a touch he hadn’t felt in a decade. "My goodness," she said, a small, professional smile on her face. "You have some very nice veins. It’s hard to choose which one to use."

Bane, with a flash of his old, wicked humor, purred inside Xander’s head. "We know a vein she would love," he said, the thought a crude, suggestive joke that made Xander’s face flush with heat.

He took a deep breath, trying to push the wolf and his perverse thoughts back into their cage. The heat on his face was real, and Olivia, her smile broadening, chuckled softly.

"Are you purring at me?" she asked, her voice full of a gentle amusement.

Xander’s mind went blank. Purring? He hadn't realized. He cleared his throat, his voice a low, gravelly sound, the only sound he could trust to come out of his mouth. “Sorry,” he managed to get out, the word rough and unfamiliar. “Needles… make me nervous.”

Olivia raised a delicate eyebrow, her smile now a slow, knowing thing that made Xander’s pulse quicken. "A big guy like you," she said playfully, her voice filled with a light, teasing tone. "Afraid of a little needle? You also have so many tattoos. I don't buy it." She giggled softly, a sound that was like music in the harsh, cold room.

Xander, for the first time in ten years, found a small, genuine smirk touching his lips. “I’m more nervous about who holds the needle,” he said, his voice a low, rumbling sound.

Olivia was about to reply, but the guard, his patience at an end, spoke up sharply. “Enough talking, Doctor. Just give him the shot.”

Olivia sighed, her playful demeanor vanishing, replaced by a focused, professional one. She took the syringe from the small tray and, with a gentle, careful touch, found a vein in his arm. The needle slid in, and the wolfsbane, that same pale, cloudy liquid, flowed through his veins.

The pain was a familiar friend, a searing cold that burned a path through his blood, draining the life and strength from his muscles. He tensed his whole body, his breathing becoming heavy and ragged, his eyes squeezed shut tight against the familiar torment.

Then, a gentle hand was on his shoulder, a soft pressure that seemed to ground him, to anchor him against the painful tidal wave of the wolfsbane. He opened his eyes, and he saw Olivia, her face filled with genuine concern.

“It’s okay,” she whispered again, her voice a quiet comfort.

In that moment, Xander’s pain seemed to be pushed to the side, and he could have sworn her eyes, those beautiful, bright hazel eyes, were looking at his, with concern, but also with a kind of shock. She could have sworn his eyes shifted, from a bright, piercing blue to a pitch black, then back again, a momentary flash of something she couldn't explain.

Bane, the great, powerful wolf, whimpered in Xander's head, the pain from the wolfsbane finally breaking through his defenses. "Mate," he panted, a small, pathetic sound that was full of the pain of his weakened existence.

Then, before Olivia could even register what she had seen, the guards were there. They grabbed Xander by the arms and yanked him off the table, pulling him roughly out of the infirmary, leaving Olivia alone in the sudden silence, the faint scent of strawberries and mint lingering in the air, and a thousand questions swirling in her mind.