Villainess Marked For Her Alpha Chapter 137: Five Compatible Alphas?

Emily was rushed straight to the hospital after the rescue, wheeled pale and limp into ergency where she stayed unconscious for five gruelling hours—fever spiking ruthless under crisp sheets, skin flushed hot and slick, shallow breaths ragged as monitors beeped urgent warnings, her scent already leaking faint distress.

All the alphas paced the sterile waiting room tense as coiled wires, worry carving deep lines on their faces—Hellen gripping chair arms white-knuckled her honey-citrus souring anxious, Reyes staring blank at the floor fists clenched with cedar-steel spiking sharp, Ivory barking quiet updates into her radio, chili pheromones crackling lethal edge in the thick air.

Finally, Ana burst from the operation theatre doors—her vibrant cyan hair wild under the surgical cap, hands tugging off four sweat-damp masks in one frustrated yank, face beet-red flushed and glistening as she stord toward them glaring daggers, fluorescents glinting off her glasses.

"What the actual hell is with her sll in there?!" she exploded, voice cracking raw, fanning her face like scorched.

"Doctor Ana—is sothing wrong with her? Talk straight!" Ivory demanded sharp, stepping forward uniform crisp but eyes wild protective. "Did sothing happen?"

"That oga is pouring out her scent like a goddamn crazy flood—sweet sll of hers exploding everywhere, thick enough to choke! Does she want every alpha in this hospital rutting her senseless right now?!" Ana hissed low, cyan strands sticking damp to her forehead as she wiped sweat.

Reyes’ eyes flashed dangerously, alpha instincts roaring possessive—Emily was hers, no one else had any right on her.

"What the hell do you an exactly? Spell it out."

"Doctor, I won’t let a single bastard touch her—swear on my badge," Ivory growled feral low, chili pheromones sharpening air to knife-point lethal.

Ana shot her a withering glare, hands planting hips defiant. "You? Save the heroics—listen to yourself. You think you can fight biology raw? She’s in partial heat, teetering inches from full-blown explosion, and if it snaps, we’ll all lose our goddamn minds—rutting zombies drooling for her slick, fertile core, no control left."

Chills raced icy spines down their backs instant, room seeming to plumt cold in collective dread. "We’ll turn into mindless zombies? Pure lust slaves to her?" Hellen whispered horrified, honey-citrus scent souring sharp with fear.

"Exactly—pheromones hijacking every alpha brain in this hospital," Ana confird grim, already paging nurses frantic over her pager’s shrill beep.

"What should we do?" Ivory asked. Even though, she wanted to knot Emily, she was going to do with her consent.

"No ti for freakout. I have a plan inject the compatible alpha pheromones—your three have to get tested, and mixed precise in the cocktail—to flood and stabilize her system. But we need other compatible alphas too.

"How many?"

"I don’t know, but definitely she needs more than one." Ana turned towards a nurse. Her face still red. "Follow with blood transfusion, then wheel her straight to the sealed dominant oga suite, lockdown protocol."

"Dominant oga?" Reyes echoed stunned, cedar-steel spiking thick confusion and shock. Emily was a dominant oga? She couldn’t believe it.

"Emily’s a dominant oga—this whole ti?" Ivory pressed incredulous, jaw dropping slack as all three alphas whipped stunned stares between each other, shock rippling visible like aftershock.

Hellen sighed, "That would explain her pheromones’ strength, though her physical strength is like a cat."

for jaw-dropping revelations—nurses! Draw blood and full scent samples from all three now, prep the OR lights-up fast. Also test every other alpha in this hospital—stat. We’ll flood her veins to yank her back from the brink before this place turns into feral chaos."

"So, you want to stop her heat completely?" Reyes pressed tense, cedar-steel scent spiking worried.

"No—I want her in heat, controlled and steady, not this explosive bomb ready to detonate," Ana shot back crisp, cyan hair swinging wild as she jabbed a finger at the nearest nurse hovering clipboard-shaking. "Do your best. I need to scan every compatible alpha here, test ruthless—no stone unturned. And send an oga nurse inside now to swab Emily’s raw pheromones direct—baseline vial, sealed tight."

The test process erupted frantic: nurses sward corridors with portable scanners shrieking urgent, pricking arms of every alpha from janitors to residents in a whirlwind—Hellen, Ivory, Reyes hitting perfect 100% matches instant, their honey-citrus/chili/cedar-steel profiles syncing flawless as dominant anchors.

Ana’s colleague took a deep breath. "This is impossible. Why are their percentages more than hundred? I know it’s a way to describe ultra compatibility, but..."

"ans that they were instantly attracted to her the mont they laid eyes upon her."

"But isn’t it sa as fate? Force by biology?"

"Have you seen a mark on Emily’s neck yet?"

"No."

"You got the answer. There is biology here, but they want her heart and soul too. They really love her," said Ana.

"What about the other two?"

But two more blazed green too—unknown hospital alphas, identities locked confidential in the sealed results packet, no nas, no faces revealed yet.

Ana stared blank-faced at the glowing test results in her private chamber later, cyan strands curtaining her furrowed brow as the door clicked shut behind the guilty-looking nurse clutching the encrypted tablet.

She set the papers down deliberate slow, exhale asured. "Numbers don’t lie."

"Sorry, ma’am—extras popped positive," the nurse mumbled head-low, scrubs twisting nervous.

"It’s fine—protocol." Ana’s voice cut steel calm. "Tell all five—the three known plus that anonymous person—to report for pheromone extraction imdiate. Full dose, no questions."

"What about...?" the nurse ventured timid.

"Don’t worry—she takes all five pheromones blended heavy. Dominant oga like Emily demands the total overload to lock stable; crisis rules." Ana nodded curtly. Her eyes were slightly trembling. "Move—her scent’s ticking louder by the second."

"Doctor Ana, should we give her more blood transfusion?" the nurse pressed urgent from the doorway, tablet glowing red alerts.

"Her haemoglobin’s crashed too low—pump more in as it will give us more ti."

Ana’s colleague asked, "Ana, you sure about flooding her with five-alpha pheromone overload? That’s uncharted for a dominant oga."

"Yeah... I’m dead sure," Ana murmured grim, staring at the sealed results packet like it burned, knuckles white on her desk edge. "No other choice in this ss—her heat’s a runaway freight train, and we’re the only brakes."

"What about the other thing...?"

"I will save my patient, and that’s my duty."

"I am not talking about that."

"Aliyah, just forget it. Okay?"