Page 12 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

I 'm losing my goddamn mind in this room.

I pace the length of our safe room, counting my steps to keep myself sane—ten steps from wall to wall. Turn. Ten steps back. It's a spacious room by usual standards. Evan spared no expense when he had it built, but after being stuck in here for hours, it feels like a prison cell.

The room has everything I could need: a comfortable bed, a small kitchenette with a stocked mini fridge, a bathroom with a shower, even a TV and some books. But what I don't have is information, and that's driving me crazy.

"Fuck this," I mutter, kicking at the plush carpet.

I check my watch again. It's been nearly eighteen hours since the brick came crashing through our window.

Eighteen hours of being shuffled into this safe room "for my protection.

" Eighteen hours with only brief visits from my mates, none of whom will tell me what's happening. Leo and Axl left a while ago.

I drop onto the edge of the bed, my hand automatically moving to rest on my small baby bump. "Your dads think they're protecting us," I tell my unborn children. "But they're driving Mommy insane."

The babies can't respond, of course, but talking to them helps me feel less alone. I've been doing it more often lately, especially when I'm stressed. Dr. Marianna says it's good for them to hear my voice.

"I just wish they'd treat me like a partner instead of something fragile," I continue. "I'm pregnant, not helpless."

My phone beeps on the nightstand, and I practically lunge for it—finally, some contact with the outside world. I check the screen, hoping it's one of my mates with an update.

It's Emily.

I answer immediately. "Em? Thank god."

"Dahlia!" Her voice is high with concern. "Are you okay? I've been trying to reach you since yesterday!"

"I'm fine," I assure her, settling back against the pillows. "Well, physically fine. Mentally, I'm about to start climbing the walls."

"What happened? There are all these crazy news stories about you guys, and then I couldn't get through to you, and I was worried sick!"

I sigh, running a hand through my tangled curls. I haven't even bothered to brush my hair today. "It's been hell…last night someone threw a brick through our window. With a lovely little note attached."

"Oh my god! Are you hurt? Are the babies okay?"

"We're fine. The boys immediately went into full protection mode and locked down the entire estate. I've been stuck in this safe room ever since."

"A safe room?" Emily sounds impressed despite herself. "Like, a panic room? With bulletproof walls and stuff?"

"Exactly like that. Evan had it built when we moved in. I thought it was paranoid overkill at the time." I laugh without humor. "Turns out he was right to be paranoid."

"What did the note say?"

I hesitate. Emily is my best friend, but I don't want to frighten her. "Just some threatening nonsense…"

"That's terrifying," Emily says. "How are you holding up? You sound stressed."

"I'm going stir-crazy in here," I admit. "The boys won't tell me anything. They keep saying they're 'handling it' and I should rest. As if I could rest when I know there's a crisis happening and I'm being kept in the dark about it."

"They're just trying to protect you."

"I know that!" I snap, then immediately regret it. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off. I'm just frustrated."

"It's okay," Emily says gently. "Pregnancy hormones are no joke, and being locked in a room during a crisis would make anyone snippy."

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. "It's not just the hormones. I hate feeling useless. Before all this, before I found out I was an Omega, I was the one solving problems. I was a respected scientist. Now I'm just... an incubator that needs to be protected."

"Dahlia Baldwin," Emily's voice turns stern. "You are not just an incubator. You're the woman who found the cure for the Crimson Plague. You saved countless lives. And those four ridiculously hot men would walk through fire for you because they know exactly how amazing you are."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones. "Thanks, Em."

"Do you want me to come over? I could bring those chocolate croissants you like from that bakery on Fifth."

"That sounds amazing, but we're in complete lockdown. No one in or out."

"Are they treating you, okay? I mean, besides the information blackout?"

I wipe my eyes. "Yeah, they're being sweet. Axl brought me breakfast in bed. Leo made sure I had books to read. Onyx checked in on me a few hours ago."

"And Evan?"

I sigh. "Evan hasn't been by once. He's probably holed up in his office making calls and pulling strings."

"That sounds like him," Emily agrees.

"I just wish he'd take five minutes to come see me," I admit. "To tell me what's happening. I hate being in the dark like this."

"I'm sure they're doing everything they can to keep you and the babies safe," Emily says. "Those four would tear apart anyone who tried to hurt you."

"I know," I say softly. "I trust them. I do. I just wish they'd trust me enough to tell me what's going on."

"Have you tried asking directly?"

I snort. "Of course. I get vague reassurances, and then they change the subject. It's infuriating."

"Men," Emily says with feeling. "Even super-hot Alpha shifter men can be frustratingly dense sometimes."

That makes me laugh, which feels good after hours of worry and frustration. "You're not wrong."

"So, what are you going to do? Just wait it out?"

I glance toward the door. "For now. But if they don't give me some information soon, I'm going to start making demands. I might be pregnant, but I'm not helpless."

"That's my girl," Emily says approvingly. "Show those Alphas who's really in charge."

"How are things with you?" I ask, eager to think about something other than my current situation. "How's work?"

"Same old, same old. Have you even had the time to do some research and lab work?"

"Not for a while," I sigh. "Even before all this, the pregnancy was making lab work difficult. I get tired so easily now, and some of the chemicals make me nauseous."

"Growing four babies will do that to you," Emily says. "Speaking of which, how are my future godchildren doing?"

I smile, rubbing my belly. "Active. Dr. Marianna says they're developing faster than human babies would. Shifter pregnancies are shorter but more intense."

"Do you know the genders yet?"

"No, we decided to wait. We want everyone to be there when we find out."

"That's sweet," Emily says. "Though it makes buying baby clothes challenging."

"You don't need to buy anything," I protest. "Evan's already ordered enough baby stuff to fill a warehouse."

"I'm still getting them presents," Emily insists. "I'm going to be the cool aunt who spoils them rotten."

We chat for a few more minutes, and for a little while, I can almost forget that I'm locked in a panic room because someone threatened my family.

Almost.

"I should probably go," Emily says eventually. "My lunch break is almost over. But call me if you need anything, okay? Even if it's to vent."

"I will," I promise. "Thanks for checking on me, Em."

"That's what friends are for. Love you, mama."

"Love you too."

I hang up and stare at my phone for a moment. Talking to Emily helped, but now that she's gone, the frustration and fear come creeping back.

I'm still staring at my phone when it buzzes again. This time, it's Dr. Marianna requesting a video call. I quickly smooth my hair and adjust my position to look less like I've been sulking in bed all day.

"Dr. Marianna," I greet her when her face appears on the screen. "This is a surprise."

"Dahlia," she smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Trust me, you're not. I've been stuck in this safe room for eighteen hours with nothing but my thoughts for company." I shift against the pillows. "Is everything okay? We don't have an appointment scheduled until next week."

She adjusts her glasses, a gesture I've come to recognize as her way of preparing to deliver complicated news. "I've been reviewing your latest blood work, and I wanted to discuss some findings with you."

My hand automatically moves to my belly. "Is something wrong with the babies?"

"Not wrong, exactly," she says carefully. "But there are some anomalies I think you should be aware of."

I sit up straighter, my scientist brain immediately engaged. "What kind of anomalies?"

"The babies appear to be developing at an accelerated rate, even faster than we initially projected for a shifter pregnancy."

"How much faster?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Based on these markers, I'd estimate you're effectively at eighteen weeks of gestation, not fourteen." She holds up a chart that I can barely make out on the small screen. "Your hormone levels are... well, frankly, they're off the charts."

"That explains why I'm showing more than expected," I muse, looking down at my bump.

"Indeed. But the hormonal changes have other implications we need to discuss." She clears her throat. "The unprecedented levels you're producing will likely affect your cognitive function and emotional stability in the coming weeks."

"What exactly does that mean? Am I going to start forgetting things? Having mood swings?"

"Both are possible," she confirms. "You may experience memory lapses, difficulty concentrating, and yes, significant emotional volatility. This is your body's way of prioritizing the pregnancy over other functions."

I frown, not liking the sound of this at all. "So, I'm going to turn into some emotional, forgetful mess?"

"I wouldn't put it quite that way," Dr. Marianna says gently. "Think of it as your body reallocating resources. Your brilliant mind requires significant energy to function at its usual capacity. Some of that energy is now being diverted to support four growing fetuses."

"Great," I mutter. "Just what I need when everything else is going to hell."

"There's more," she continues. "While analyzing your genetic samples, I discovered something remarkable. Your DNA is actively rewriting itself to accommodate multiple pregnancies."

That gets my full attention. "Rewriting itself? That's not possible."

"I thought the same thing," she admits. "But I've run the tests three times now. Your Omega genes are expressing in ways we've never seen before, adapting to support the unique combination of Alpha DNA in each baby."

"Is that dangerous?" I ask

"Not dangerous, but certainly unprecedented." She leans closer to the camera. "Dahlia, your body is evolving in real time to support these babies. It's fascinating from a scientific perspective, but it will have significant physiological effects on you."

"Like what?"

"Your senses will become even more heightened. Your connection to your Alphas will intensify. And..." she hesitates.

"And what?" I prompt.

"You're going to experience a heat cycle soon. A strong one."

"A heat?" I repeat, my voice rising. "I thought that only happened when I first bonded with them."

"Normally, yes. But your hormone levels indicate your body is preparing for another cycle. It's likely a biological response to ensure continued bonding with your Alphas during this critical development phase."

I groan, remembering my first heat, the overwhelming need, the desperation, and the complete loss of control. "When?"

"Within the next week, possibly sooner. The signs will be similar to what you experienced before. You'll have increased body temperature, heightened sensitivity, intense cravings for your mates."

"Fantastic," I mutter. "So, on top of being locked in this room, I'm going to turn into a hormonal mess who can't think straight and wants to jump her mates constantly."

Dr. Marianna's lips twitch. "I wouldn't have phrased it quite that way, but essentially, yes."

I run a hand through my hair. "Is there anything I can do to prepare? Or to... I don't know, mitigate the effects?"

"Your Alphas' presence will help stabilize you.

Physical contact with them, and yes, sexual bonding, will regulate your hormone levels and ease the discomfort.

" She makes a note on her tablet. "I'm sending you a list of supplements that may help manage the symptoms. And I recommend you prepare a comfortable space with plenty of water, high-protein snacks, and comfortable bedding. "

"So basically, build a nest," I say flatly.

"Your Omega instincts will likely drive you to do that anyway," she points out. "Working with them rather than fighting them will make this easier."

I sigh, looking around the safe room. "At least I'm already in a secure location."

"That's a positive way to look at it," she agrees. "Now, I want to increase our appointment frequency to twice weekly. With the accelerated development, we need to monitor you more closely."

"Whatever you think is best," I say, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by all this new information.

Dr. Marianna studies me through the screen. "You seem distressed, Dahlia. More than this news would warrant."

"It's been a rough couple of days," I admit. "Someone threw a brick through our window last night with a threatening message. The boys immediately went into full protection mode and locked me in here. I've barely seen them since, and no one will tell me what's happening."

Her expression shifts subtly. "I see. That explains why you're in the safe room."

"They think they're protecting me, but being kept in the dark is making everything worse."

"I understand your frustration," she says carefully. "But perhaps they're trying to shield you from additional stress, which would be advisable in your condition."

"I'm pregnant, not incapacitated," I snap, then immediately feel guilty for my tone. "Sorry. I'm just... tired of being treated like I'm made of glass."

"No apology necessary. Pregnancy is challenging enough without added complications." She pauses, seeming to debate something internally. "Dahlia, there's something else you should know, though I hesitate to add to your worries."

A chill runs down my spine. "What is it?"

She glances over her shoulder as if checking that she's alone, then lowers her voice. "Two more pregnant Omegas have gone missing from different medical facilities in the past forty-eight hours."