WNDR9268

Claimed by Two Alphas

You have spent your entire adult life passing as a Beta — no suppressants, no scent markers, no weakness — and you were good at it, until today, when the Valen Institute's biometric scanner flagged you mid-shift and two women you thought were simply your overprotective unit commanders slammed the quarantine door shut behind all three of you. The wall panel flickers: 71:58:43 remaining, and the scent-suppression unit sparks once, then dies. What no one has told you yet is that the bonding marks on your neck — the ones you assumed were old sparring scars — are theirs, placed the night you nearly bled out six months ago, and both Alphas have been waiting, with terrifying patience, for this exact moment.