Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Kira’s POV

I clenched the cold metal armrests of the chair tightly, attempting to block out the discomfort of the numerous sensors taped meticulously to my chest, temples, and wrists. The sterile, clinical smell of the medical lab surrounded me, but beneath it lingered a palpable tension, a heavy undercurrent of anxiety that seemed to press against my skin. Through the observation window, I caught sight of Jennifer standing there, her arms crossed firmly over her chest, her usual impassive expression betraying nothing but a focused watchfulness.

Dr. Scott stood directly in front of me, holding a small silver vial that contained a strange, glowing blue liquid. It seemed almost alive, pulsing faintly with an eerie light. Her face, which I was used to seeing confident and composed, now wore a serious, concerned look.

“This compound is called ‘Wolf’s Shadow,’” she explained, her tone carefully clinical. “It was originally created as an emergency treatment for werewolves who were critically injured.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “How exactly does it work?”

She raised the vial toward the overhead light, letting the blue liquid catch the glow. “It temporarily activates dormant werewolf gene fragments that exist within human DNA. These gene fragments are evolutionary remnants present in all humans, but in your case, they’re more abundant due to your previous status.”

She continued, “The compound stimulates these fragments, causing a partial biological mimicry of werewolf traits—mainly scent markers and heightened sensory perception.”

Mason was adjusting some settings on the monitoring equipment beside us, the screens flickering to display my vital signs. “We’ll be recording everything. If any critical systems show dangerous stress levels, we’ll stop immediately.”

My gaze locked onto the vial again, my heart pounding faster. “How bad will the pain be?”

Dr. Scott met my eyes steadily. “It will feel like fire coursing through your veins. I won’t sugarcoat it, Kira.”

I nodded, grateful for her honesty. Pain had become an all-too-familiar companion lately.

Andy stepped closer, his hand warm and reassuring on my shoulder. “You can still back out if you want. We can find another way.”

“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head. “This is our only chance to get into that meeting.” I took a deep breath, then looked back at Dr. Scott. “I’m ready.”

She swabbed my arm with alcohol, the cold sting making me shiver. The needle slid into my vein with minimal discomfort, but the moment the blue liquid entered my bloodstream, agony erupted inside me.

A white-hot blaze radiated from the injection site, spreading rapidly through my body like molten metal. I bit down hard, tasting blood as I fought to suppress a scream. My back arched involuntarily, muscles tensing and seizing as the compound coursed through me.

“Blood pressure spiking! Heart rate at 170!” Mason’s voice sounded distant, barely cutting through the roaring in my ears.

“Strange,” I whispered, searching for the right words. “It’s like I can sense my wolf inside me, but I can’t quite reach her. She’s there, but not fully present.” My throat tightened as bittersweet memories of what I had lost washed over me.

Dr. Scott examined the monitoring equipment again. “Interesting. Your body temperature has increased by nearly two degrees, approaching the typical baseline for a werewolf.”

When I finally stood up, the room seemed to tilt and spin around me. Andy was quick to steady me, his hand warm against my clammy skin.

“Take it easy,” he murmured gently. “Your brain is processing sensory input differently now.”

Rebecca led us into the testing area—a large, well-equipped room filled with various stations designed to measure different abilities. “We need to understand exactly what you’ve gained and what you’ve lost,” she explained efficiently. “This isn’t just about passing as a werewolf—it’s about knowing your limits.”

The sensory tests came first. Rebecca presented sealed containers, each holding a distinct scent, and asked me to identify them.

“Pine… wet earth… and something metallic?” I guessed tentatively at the third.

“Close,” Rebecca said, her voice neutral but her eyes flickering with something unspoken as she exchanged a glance with Jennifer. “That’s wolf blood, three days old. A full werewolf would be able to identify the pack it came from.”