Alexa rummaged around his crap-covered desk. How could he possibly find anything in this mess? She tossed files, papers, plastic cups and a pizza box. In a small plastic box, she found several unused syringes.
Nearly yanking off the cold storage door, she took out four glass containers and set them on the counter. After filling from the four vials, Alexa stared at the syringes in her hand and hated the sense of fear clutching her guts. True mates were hard to find, and if she lost hers because some asshole wanted something that didn’t belong to them…
She knelt and watched as Zeke’s pale face turned ashen. His eyes were unfocused. Her heart rate tripled. f**k! She needed to do this now or he really would die.
Was there an order? Did she need to wait between injections? f*****g hell. She
