An Alpha's Forbidden Mate-Chapter 28: Extraction And Awakening

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Underground Bunker

Hidden miles beneath layers of reinforced earth and steel, the underground bunker resembled a forbidden fortress rather than a facility. Cold metallic corridors stretched endlessly, lined with red surveillance lights that pulsed like a living heartbeat. Thick blast doors sealed every section, each guarded by armed soldiers standing motionless, as if carved from stone. This was not a place meant for normal civilian humans—it was a secret base built for secrets that could never see daylight.

Inside one of its sterile extraction chambers, the generals stood in rigid silence as Stephanie’s screams tore through the room.

Blood flowed through transparent tubes, siphoned from her restrained body into a large containment tank. Ten minutes passed. Then another. To Stephanie, it felt like eternity. Her throat burned from screaming for help, her voice cracking as she called out for her father again and again, clinging to the fragile hope that he would burst through the doors in any moment and take her home.

When the man in the lab coat entered once more, her heart leapt. For a brief, desperate second, she believed he had come to stop it—to remove the cold metallic restraints imprisoning her arms.

Instead, he pressed a button.

The bed beneath her shifted, rising slowly as her legs were guided into two narrow cylindrical chambers, barely wide enough to contain them. Panic surged through her veins. She struggled, kicking weakly, but the cylinders snapped shut with a mechanical hiss.

The man tapped his tablet.

Countless tiny needles shot out, piercing her legs all at once.

Stephanie screamed.

The pain was beyond anything a high school girl’s mind could comprehend. Her body arched violently against the restraints, sweat pouring down her face. Tears mixed with mucus and streaks of blood, turning her expression into the very embodiment of agony. Her vision blurred, her consciousness trembling on the edge of collapse. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Through the haze, she could see silhouettes behind the reinforced glass—several generals and Phillip standing closest, watching with cold, clinical eyes. She still didn’t know where she was. Only that hell had a shape, and she was trapped inside it.

A soldier approached Phillip and spoke quietly.

"Sir, she’s arrived."

Phillip didn’t hesitate.

"Take me to her."

The soldier turned, leading him away, while Stephanie’s screams continued to echo behind them.

Phillip entered a private office deep within the bunker.

"You can leave," he told the guard.

The soldier obeyed without question.

A woman sat calmly in the chair opposite him, her posture relaxed, her presence unsettling. Phillip frowned.

"Where is Elena?"

"She had something more important to attend to," the woman replied smoothly. "So she sent me instead. My name is Zareth."

Phillip’s expression darkened.

"What could possibly be more important than this?"

"You can ask her yourself when you meet again," Zareth said indifferently. "Now—do you have the boy?"

Phillip exhaled.

"It turns out... it was a girl."

Zareth’s eyes sharpened.

"A girl?"

"Yes. I only realized when I tracked him to the his house."

"Where is she?"

"In the extraction room."

Zareth rose abruptly, fury flashing across her face.

"You started the extraction already? Elena specifically ordered you not to begin until we arrived."

"I know," Phillip said quickly. "I was thinking—"

"Then stop thinking," Zareth snapped. "Leave that to us. Since she’s a girl, the potion ingredients must be changed."

"Why?"

"I was given ingredients designed for a boy’s blood," Zareth said coldly. "And you assured us the father’s hair samples were already secured."

"So how does this change the plan?"

"Because now we can’t use the same ingredients of a boy for a girl," she replied sharply.

Phillip hesitated.

"Then what do you need?"

"I can gather most of them myself," Zareth said. "But you will need to obtain the mother’s hair—and a Mandrake root."

Phillip stiffened.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Zareth asked.

"The mother’s hair won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible," Phillip admitted. " But the Mandrake root... that’s another matter."

"Why?"

"The only place it grows in this region is the forest near the werewolf territory."

Zareth scoffed.

"Then send some men to retrieve it."

"It’s not that simple," Phillip said. "The Association made a deal with the werewolf centuries. We don’t cross into their territory, and they don’t harm humans when living their secret lives in human settlement."

"Then find another way," Zareth said coldly. "You have already started the extraction. You have to find the Mandrake root before three days or else the blood becomes useless in making the potion."

"We could always take more from the girl."

"And dilute the purity?" Zareth snapped. "The potion would not be as effective if it isn’t the first blood drawn for the girl."

Phillip rubbed his face, stress weighing heavily on him.

"I’ll have to speak my superiors."

Zareth handed him a card.

"Your choice. Just call me when you have it."

She left without another word.

Moments later, Phillip ordered a soldier, "Get me my secretary."

Within minutes, a slim, dark-skinned woman stepped inside. She was clearly in her twenties, youthful yet composed, her beauty impossible to overlook. Delicate glasses framed sharp, intelligent eyes that held quiet confidence. Her official attire was perfectly fitted, hugging her elegant figure without sacrificing authority, giving her the air of someone who belonged in power rather than merely serving it. Every movement was graceful, controlled—beautiful in a way that demanded attention without asking for it.

"Sir, you sent for me?"

"Yes, Bennett. Arrange a meeting with my superiors within two hours."

She hesitated.

"Sir, they won’t answer unless it’s critical. They’re powerful figures in politics and business."

Phillip’s voice hardened.

"Tell them this meeting will decide whether the Association rises—or falls."

Bennett nodded.

"I understand."

Hours later, she returned to find Phillip half-asleep.

"Sir... sir."

He jolted awake.

"Huh? What happened?"

"The meeting," Bennett said softly.

Phillip stood and followed her into a dark chamber. No lights. Only a massive screen divided into six sections. Six shadowed figures appeared, their faces hidden.

"You may leave," Phillip told Bennett.

She did.

"Good evening," Phillip began.

A woman’s voice cut in sharply.

"Skip the nonsense. Why did you call us? I have a press conference in thirty minutes."

"I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t urgent," Phillip replied.

Another voice, calm and steady, spoke.

"What do you want, Phillip?"

"Clearance. Access to the forest."

"Which part?"

"Near the werewolf territory."

Murmurs erupted.

"Are you insane?" the sassy woman snapped. "Dont you know we have an agreement them. Do you want a war?"

"No," Phillip said quickly. "But the witch requires a specific root for our plan . And we have only three days to retrieve it or our years of planning will be blown smitherings. It only grows near their land."

"What root?" the calm voice asked.

"A Mandrake root."

Silence followed.

"That won’t be easy," the man said. "Werewolves have an exceptional sense of smell. "They’ll detect us instantly, even if we’re miles away."

Phillip straightened.

"We’re no longer living in the age of guns alone. Our technology has surpassed anything before it. Even if our ki users are declining, our weapons aren’t. If war happens... we won’t be at a disadvantage."

After a long pause, the calm man spoke again.

"I’ll agree—on one condition."

"What condition?"

"Attempt stealth first. Avoid confrontation. If it fails... engage."

Phillip nodded.

"All in favor?"

One by one, clearance documents appeared on his device.

"Thank you," Phillip said. "I’ll keep you updated."

The screen went dark.

The Next Day — The Mysterious Kingdom

Tom trained outside the palace grounds, his fists slamming into solid stone again and again. Each strike shattered skin. Each wound healed instantly, just as John had taught him. Blood splattered the ground, only to vanish moments later.

He noticed the guards. There were more now—watching him closely since the dinner with the king.

Princess Caroline approached, calm and confident.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Training," Tom replied, never stopping.

She laughed.

He paused.

"What’s so funny, Princess?"

"Sorry," she said, still smiling. "I didn’t realize torture was called training."

Tom replied, "There’s a saying where I come from—tough times create strong men, while easy times create weak men."

Caroline smirked.

"I’ve heard a better one. Dumb men create hard times. Smart men create easy times."

Tom blinked, surprised.

"She’s smart," he thought, a small smile forming.

As she turned to leave, Caroline spoke softly,

"Instead of breaking your body through brute force, focus on tempering your will, sharpening your mind, and strengthening the power that flows from within. You evolved into a Silver Crest wolf—a lineage steeped in legend, one that has shaped the course of history in ways few can imagine. Even in the oldest, dust-covered records of ancient times, Silver Crest wolves were revered and feared as supernatural beings of unimaginable power. Their strength was not merely physical; it was a force of will so potent that it could shatter mountains, bend nature to their command, and make entire armies tremble before them. You carry that same legacy now, a legacy of raw, unstoppable potential—and it is your mind and spirit, far more than your body, that will define the limits of your power.".

Behind her, Tom clenched his fist, unaware that the moment his will had fully tempered, the Silver Crest within him would fully awaken... and the world would be utterly unprepared for the force that was about to be unleashed."