Page 17 of Monster. Me.

Wilhelm starts spraying me with it, and I curl up with a groan.

"Please, no!"

I’m allergic to all anti-pheromone deodorants. They give me a nasty rash, and if the dose is too high, I can even go into anaphylactic shock.

But Wilhelm doesn’t listen. He’s probably doing it so the program participants won’t catch my scent and lose their minds over my pheromones, but knowing about my allergy, it only adds another item to the long list of his cruelties.

I clamp my lips shut, fighting for breath.

I’m wearing nothing but a pair of thin hospital pants, my chest left bare so they can have easy access for all their medical procedures.

"It burns…" I mumble, but Wilhelm ignores me.

So I turn my eyes away from his grim expression and fix them on the ceiling.

We move again.

The harsh fluorescent lights eventually give way to warmer LED panels that almost feel like daylight.

Other sounds begin to reach me as well. Voices. Footsteps. Different scents drifting through the air.

Without much interest, I turn my head. My skin feels like it’s burning alive, so I just focus on fighting the horrible sensation, feeling miserable.

For a brief moment, we’re moving through something that looks like an underground promenade, but Wilhelm quickly turns into a side corridor. Even that one isn’t empty. The whole sector is designed for AA program participants, after all.

I notice a small line of people standing along one wall. It looks like there’s a tiny convenience store there, probably selling snacks the cafeteria doesn’t carry, maybe cigarettes or alcohol too, if I had to guess.

Wilhelm curses when one of the gurney wheels gets stuck, and he kicks it in frustration.

More out of boredom than curiosity, I glance at the people waiting.

The participants are all alphas. Unlike the previous program I was part of on Calsing Island, I don’t interact with them, so I don’t even know why I’m looking. Still, my eyes drift across the group.

There are six alphas in line, and the moment I reach the last one, my attention locks onto him like a spotlight.

And… wow.

I’ve rarely seen anyone that beautiful.

His hair falls all the way to the middle of his back, rich brown with a deep auburn sheen catching the light. He turns toward us when he hears the rattle of the gurney wheels.

And his face…

It’s simply too beautiful.

Subtly chiseled, almost too delicate for an alpha. There’s something melancholic about it, something wistful, like he’s carrying an old hurt around with him.

For some reason, his presence hits me instantly, like we’re two strings tuned to the exact same note.

My heart kicks hard against my ribs.

Of course I automatically draw in a breath, but there’s nothing to catch. The participants’ pheromones are suppressed. Even with my enhanced senses, it’s hard to pick up anything, especially from this distance.

Still, I somehow know his eyes are mint-silver, like the pale treetops of a mountain spruce.

The gurney starts moving slowly; Wilhelm decides to force it forward, with one wheel still jammed, and I realize we’re about to pass the perfect alpha, so with a loud groan I jerk both arms upward. Unfortunately, they’re still cuffed to the metal frame of the bed, which sends a burst of rattling chains through the corridor.

"Stop!" I shout. "Wilhelm, stop! I need to talk to him!"