When Emily's eyelids fluttered open, harsh fluorescent lights stabbed her vision in a sterile hospital room—beeping monitors syncing erratic with her shallow breaths, IV lines snaking into her milky white arms, pale blue gown clinging to her sweat-dampened body.
Her body felt like shattered glass—muscles aching deep as if unravelled from bone, skin hypersensitive and fever-flushed a ghostly pale, a hollow ache throbbing low in her core where suppressed omega instincts clawed free.
Toxins—banned suppressants masquerading as "alpha supplements"—had flooded her system for months, blocking pheromones, heats, and scents; now flushed out, her true nature surged chaotic, leaving her weakened, nauseous, vision spotting faint even as clarity sharpened.
"Emily!" Hellen's voice cracked raw, her blonde ponytail limp and dishevelled, eyes shadowed by dark circles etching a week's sleepless vigil.
