Page 24 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

T he pain that rips through me is feral and vicious, like someone is tearing my insides apart. I scream until my throat feels raw, and I clench the edges of the examination table as another contraction tears through me.

"Subject is experiencing regular contractions at three-minute intervals," Reid announces, observing me like I'm an insect pinned to a board. "But cervical examination shows minimal dilation. She's still only two centimeters."

I try to focus through the fog of agony. Two centimeters. It's not enough. Not nearly enough. The babies are coming too soon, and my body isn't ready.

"The accelerant isn't working efficiently," one of the technicians remarks, adjusting something on my IV line.

Reid's face hardens. "Increase the Pitocin dosage," he orders. "We need to speed this along."

Another contraction hits, and I arch against my restraints, my vision blurring with tears. The pain is unlike anything I've ever experienced. It doesn't have a gradual build, as I'd read about in all those pregnancy books. It just feels like a sudden, violent assault on my body.

"Sir," Dr. Marianna says, "Her heart rate is dangerously elevated. Increasing the dosage could trigger cardiovascular collapse."

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Reid snaps.

"You'll kill her," Marianna persists, stepping between him and the technician who's preparing to adjust my IV. "And the babies. You need them alive for your research, don't you?"

Reid's eyes narrow behind his glasses. "Fuck! I need one specimen alive. One is sufficient for the initial phase of testing."

"What?" I gasp between panting breaths. "No!"

"Sir," Marianna continues, "with all due respect, the multiple births present a unique opportunity. Four distinct genetic combinations from the same Omega. If she dies from an overdose, you lose that opportunity forever."

Reid checks his watch and shakes his head. "We're running out of time. We've detected unusual activity in the perimeter sensors. Her Alphas may have found us sooner than anticipated."

My heart leaps with hope even as another contraction tears through me. They're coming. They're actually coming.

"Let me go," I manage to growl through clenched teeth. "Let my babies go!"

"Double the dosage," Reid commands, ignoring me completely. "And increase it by 50% every thirty minutes if there's no further dilation."

"That will kill her," Marianna repeats, more urgently now.

"Then prepare for surgical extraction if she hasn't dilated to eight centimeters within thirty minutes." Reid straightens his lab coat and moves toward the door. "Call me when there's actual progress. I have other subjects to attend to."

The door hisses shut behind him, and another wave of pain crashes over me. I cry out, pulling against my restraints until the leather cuts into my skin.

"Breathe through it, Dahlia," Marianna urges, moving to my side. "Try to stay calm."

"Calm?" I spit the word at her. "He's going to cut my babies out of me!"

"I know," she whispers, leaning close as the technician prepares the increased dosage. Her hand slips beneath mine where it's secured to the table, and I feel something small and cold press into my palm. "I'm so sorry for everything. But this might be your only chance."

My fingers close around what feels like a scalpel.

"When the next contraction hits," Marianna murmurs, positioning herself between me and the technicians' line of sight, "make it look worse than it is. Draw their attention."

I nod slightly. The technician approaches with the new IV bag.

"Administering increased dose now," he announces, and hangs the bag to adjust the flow rate.

Almost immediately, I feel a burning sensation traveling up my arm and spreading through my body. The next contraction hits with such force that it feels like my spine might snap in half.

"Something's wrong!" I gasp, thrashing against the restraints. "It burns!"

Both technicians move to check the monitors, their attention momentarily diverted from my hands. I grip the scalpel tightly and begin sawing at the leather strap securing my right wrist. The restraint, already strained from my previous struggles, gives way more easily than I expected.

"Her heart rate is 165 and climbing," the male technician says. "And her blood pressure is spiking."

"Fetal distress detected in subjects B and C," the lady adds.

My babies. They're hurting my babies. Something primal and dangerous awakens inside me.

It's an instinct so powerful it seems to burn through the drugs in my system, and then I feel a surge of strength I didn't know I possessed.

I'm the only one who can save my babies. I'm the only one they have now.

"We should call Dr. Reid," the man reaches for a communication panel.

With my free hand, I drive the scalpel deep into the side of his neck. Blood sprays across the sterile white room. His eyes widen in shock as he clutches at his throat, and a horrible gurgling sound escapes his lips as he collapses to the floor.

The female technician screams, frozen in place as I wrench my other arm free, snapping the leather restraint like it's made of paper.

I don't understand where this strength is coming from.

Maybe it's adrenaline, maybe it's my Omega biology fighting back against the suppressants, or perhaps it's just the pure, desperate need to protect my children.

"Dahlia!" Marianna gasps, but she's already moving to help me, unfastening the restraints around my ankles.

The female technician finally breaks from her stupor and lunges for the door, but I'm faster. I grab her by her hair and drag her backward. She struggles wildly, scratching and clawing at my arms.

"Help!" she screams. "Subject escape! Security to…"

I cut her off by slamming her head against the metal frame of the examination table. Once, twice, until her body goes limp in my grasp.

"Jesus," Marianna whispers, staring at the bloody scene.

"Don't," I warn her, still holding the bloody scalpel. "Don't pretend this shocks you after what you've been part of."

She swallows hard and nods. "We need to go. Now. There are emergency exits on each level, but security will be all over them once the alarm sounds."

I struggle to stand, my legs wobbly beneath me. Another contraction hits, and I double over, nearly collapsing.

"I can't…" I gasp. "The babies…"

"We have to try," Marianna insists, wrapping an arm around my waist. "They'll kill us all if we stay."

I force myself upright, clutching my belly with my bloodstained hand. "Which way?"

Marianna peers out the door, checking the corridor. "It's clear for now. Come this way."

We stumble into the hallway, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor. I'm still wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown, open at the back and stained with blood. The fluorescent lights seem to pulse in time with the pain radiating through my body.

"There's a service elevator," Marianna pants, guiding me around a corner. "It's the least monitored route to the upper levels."

We make it about thirty feet before another contraction drops me to my knees. I bite my lip until I taste blood to keep from screaming…

"I can't," I gasp. "They're coming. The babies are coming."

"Not yet," Marianna urges, trying to pull me back to my feet. "Just a little further."

A door ahead of us opens, and a man in a lab coat steps out, freezing when he sees us. His eyes widen as he takes in my bloody state and Marianna's panicked expression.

"What the…" he begins, reaching for something on his belt.

I lunge forward to grab him, but I'm too slow. His fingers find the panic button on his belt and press it before I can reach him.

Immediately, red lights begin flashing in the corridor, and a piercing alarm wails through the facility. The man backs away, but Marianna grabs a metal rod from a nearby cleaning cart and swings it at his head. The impact makes a sickening crunch, and he collapses like a puppet with cut strings.

"Fuck!" Marianna swears, grabbing my arm. "We need to hide. Now."

She drags me toward a door marked "Storage" and pulls me inside, locking it behind us. The small room is filled with medical supplies and equipment, and there's barely enough space for both of us.

I slide to the floor, unable to remain standing as another contraction rips through me. It's getting more intense, more urgent.

"I think... my water just broke," I gasp, as warm fluid pools beneath me.

Marianna kneels beside me, pushing my gown up to examine me. "You're dilating rapidly now. The stress and adrenaline must be accelerating things."

I lean my head back against a metal cabinet, tears streaming down my face. "We're not going to make it, are we?"

The alarms continue to blare outside, and I can hear shouting in the distance, the sound of boots on tile.

"They're coming for us," I whisper, cradling my belly. "I can't run anymore. I can't fight. Not like this."

Marianna's face is grim as she rips open packages of clean gauze and medical supplies. "Then we deliver these babies here."

"What?" I stare at her in horror. "No! Not here. Not now. They're too early!"

"They're coming whether we want them to or not," she says firmly. "Reid's accelerant has done its work. Your body is in full labor now."

Another contraction hits, and I can't hold back my scream. The pain is beyond anything I could have imagined, as if my body is being torn in half.

"Dahlia, listen to me," Marianna grips my shoulders. "Your Alphas are coming. I believe that. But right now, these babies need you. You need to focus."

I try to breathe through the pain, to think clearly despite the fog of agony and fear.

"Even if they're coming," I gasp, "they won't get here in time. And we're locked in a storage closet in a secret government facility with people hunting us down."

Marianna's eyes are strong as she meets my gaze. "Then we fight. We do whatever it takes to keep you and these babies alive until help arrives."

The determination in her voice gives me hope, but reality is impossible to ignore.

"I can't," I whisper, fresh tears streaming down my face. "I can't do this. Not here. Not like this. They'll die. My babies will die."

"Not if I can help it," Marianna insists, as she starts arranging supplies. "I've delivered hundreds of babies, including shifter infants and premature ones."

I want to believe her, but the situation seems hopeless.

We're trapped, surrounded by enemies, with no way out.

I'm in premature labor with quadruplets, and my body is pumped full of experimental drugs.

Even if we somehow evade Reid's security forces, even if my Alphas do find this facility, what are the chances they'll reach us in time?

It's very unlikely I can give birth naturally.

I'll still need a C-section. And if we prolong their birth, they could die. All the odds are against me.

"Marianna," I say between pants as another contraction builds, "if something happens to me, if I don't make it…"

"Don't," she cuts me off sharply. "Don't say it."

"Listen to me," I grab her wrist, squeezing until she winces. "If it comes down to a choice between me and the babies, you save them. Do you understand? You save my children."

Her expression softens slightly. "Dahlia…"

"Promise me," I insist.

Before she can answer, the sound of gunfire erupts somewhere in the distance, followed by a deep, reverberating explosion that shakes the walls around us.

Marianna freezes, her eyes widening. "What the hell was that?"