The Triplet Alphas' Forbidden Temptation

Kieran strode down the stark, sterile corridor of the research wing, his sharp eyes glued to the open notebook in his hands. Pen marks slashed across the pages as he jotted down rapid additions. Half a step behind him, Clara bustled along, her clipboard tucked under one arm.

Yuki leaned sideways, keeping her boots quiet against the polished floor. ”Where are we heading?” she whispered to Clara.

Before Clara could part her lips, Kieran spoke up without missing a beat, his tone brisk and smooth, his eyes never leaving the paper. ”Monitoring patient progress on the experimental trial drugs. We need complete documentation.”

He took a sharp right into the special ward, pushing through double swing doors that hissed shut behind them.

A nurse waiting near the central desk immediately straightened. Her badge read Mrs. Weston. As the highest-ranking nurse in the ward, her posture was rigid, but her greeting was warm. ”Dr. Ravencourt,” she said, her voice crisp with practiced professionalism. ”I have the morning breakdowns ready for you.”

”Let’s hear it,” Kieran said, finally clicking his pen and slipping it into his coat pocket.

”The majority of the patients are reacting within expected baseline parameters,” Mrs. Weston reported, walking alongside him as Yuki and Clara fell into line behind them. ”There is, however, one glaring exception. A warrior transferred directly from the military base last night. He isn’t responding to the treatment protocols at all. He slipped into unconsciousness two hours ago.”

Kieran’s sharp features darkened instantly. ”Take me to him first,” he demanded.

”Right this way,” Mrs. Weston said, her gait quickening.

Kieran kept up a fast pace, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with concern. ”What are his vitals doing? Is his body rejecting the compound?” he inquired.

”It isn’t just the trial drug, sir,” Mrs. Weston admitted, her voice tight. ”His natural regenerative abilities aren’t firing. He isn’t healing at all.”

Kieran’s jaw set into a hard line. A wolf’s cellular recovery was practically its natural biology. For it to stall entirely was a dire sign.

They stopped before a heavy door marked with high-acuity warnings. Mrs. Weston swiped her card, and the seal broke with a quiet click. Inside, the ICU room hummed with the rhythmic beep of monitors and the low whir of an oxygen machine. The air hit Yuki’s nose instantly. It was thick, carrying a metallic sting and heavy with the sharp reek of fresh blood.

Lying motionless on the raised bed was a broad-shouldered warrior. Thick layers of white gauze were bound tightly around his abdomen, but dark red stains had already bloomed through the centre of the bandages. His face was ash-grey, his lips parted in shallow, weak breaths.

”How did he get this badly torn up?” Kieran asked, his voice low as his eyes swept over the monitors. ”Is Kaden aware a base warrior was brought in like this?”

”He was ambushed by rogue scouts near the perimeter,” Mrs. Weston explained quickly, her hands clasped in front of her scrubs. ”Brought straight here from the field. He’s been steadily declining since.”

”Did you run a full panel?” Kieran demanded, stepping closer to the bed. ”Biopsy? Toxicology screens?”

”Everything came back completely clean,” Mrs. Weston replied, shaking her head. ”No foreign toxins detected in his bloodstream.”

Yuki stared at the pale warrior, her brows drawing together as she studied the strange, sluggish seep of blood from the wound. ”What if it’s his inner wolf?” she muttered softly, mostly to herself. ”If the wolf itself is injured, the body won’t heal.”

Kieran frowned, turning his gaze towards her, his voice clipped and analytical. ”If the inner spirit were damaged, we’d see traces of wolfsbane in his system. It’s the only compound refined enough to suppress or sever the link to the wolf.”

He pulled a pair of nitrile gloves from a wall dispenser, the latex snapping crisply against his wrists. Stepping up to the bed, he gently lifted the edge of the blood-soaked dressing, inspecting the raw tear beneath with practiced, immovable focus. Yuki watched him closely, struck by the sudden, intense stillness that settled over him when he worked.

”Change the protocol,” Kieran ordered, snapping off the gloves and tossing them into the biohazard bin. ”Switch him off the current trial base and rotate in the broad-spectrum cellular stabilising agent immediately.”

Before Mrs. Weston could record the order, the door glided open. A young resident doctor rushed in, his white coat fluttering. ”Dr. Ravencourt!” he gasped, bowing his head in a hurried apology. ”My deepest apologies for not meeting you at the entrance. I was pulled into an emergency in Ward B.”

Kieran gave a curt nod. ”Understood. We’re adjusting this patient’s regimen.”

The resident looked towards the bed, his brow furrowing as he checked the chart on his tablet. He looked back up at Kieran, his expression brightening with an eager idea. ”Sir, what about the synthetic regenerative formula you developed? If we administered a dose of that...”

”Dangerously risky,” Clara interjected loudly, her voice sharp as she cut the resident off mid-sentence. ”Dr. Kieran is nowhere near fully recovered from the synthesis of the last batch. He shouldn’t even be considering another draw.”

The resident’s face drained of colour in an instant. He swallowed hard, taking an instinctive step back. ”I... I am so sorry, Dr. Ravencourt. It slipped my mind. The accident... the exhaustion after you finished that batch...”

Yuki’s stomach dropped like a stone. The memory of the car crash flashed quickly through her mind. The accident he had suffered while she was under admission because he was exhausted. It was really because of her drug experimentation.

Kieran’s jaw clenched tightly. A warning coldness flooded his voice, slicing through the air to silence the resident before another word could spill out. ”The formula has clearance for small-scale trials, but it is far from optimised for mass production,” he stated flatly, his tone dropping several degrees. ”Draft a detailed symptom log and route it directly to Research and Pharmacology by the end of the hour.”

He turned on his heel towards the door. ”We’re moving on to the next patient.”

As they exited into the hallway, Kieran stared straight ahead, his eyes completely avoiding Yuki’s direction. The tension in his shoulders made it abundantly clear. He had zero desire for anyone to run their mouth about his physical limits or what he had done because of his guilt towards Yuki.