Chapter 325: Breaking Free

Chapter 325: Breaking Free
Maeve's POV

My pulse thundered violently as I gazed upon Dr. Hartwell's prostrate figure, a momentary vertigo enveloping me. Such aggression was entirely foreign to my nature, despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through my system.

Kneeling beside her, I delicately placed my fingers at her throat, detecting a faint yet rhythmic pulsation beneath my touch.

Relief washed over me—she survived. Though I had evaded becoming a murderer, urgency demanded my swift departure before either her consciousness returned or reinforcements materialized.

Rising hastily, I moved toward the exit. Despite my uncertainty regarding direction, the audible medical instrumentation from the adjacent chamber offered my most promising course. Locating Juniper remained paramount before orchestrating our mutual escape from these confines.

Upon reaching the threshold, I paused, discerning distant conversations emanating from the corridor. Though not an immediate threat, visibility presented considerable risk. A more strategic approach was imperative.

Redirecting my attention to the storage facilities across the room, I sought attire more substantial than my current inadequate hospital garment, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

The storage area, replete with medical apparatus, eventually yielded a package containing civilian garments: dark trousers with functional pockets and a marginally worn blouse—decidedly superior to my present state.

Though ill-fitting, these garments proved sufficient.

Returning expeditiously to Dr. Hartwell's unconscious form, I methodically examined the drawers she had previously investigated. I procured various syringes and several keen scalpel blades, distributing them throughout my newly acquired pockets.

Observing Dr. Hartwell's continued stillness, her respiration even yet shallow, I determined her unconscious state would persist for an appreciable duration.

Phoebe's imminent return lingered in my mind, necessitating expeditious action.

Pressing my ear against the portal, I detected the cessation of dialogue. Perhaps the speakers had departed.

With meticulous caution, I eased the door ajar, gliding into the corridor before gently securing it behind me. The dimly illuminated passageway, flanked by numerous entrances, guided my silent progress toward the source of the medical instrumentation.

Through the expansive observation pane, I discerned a chamber arranged with multiple clinical beds, monitoring apparatus centrally positioned. The fortuitous absence of sentinels at the station elicited palpable relief.

Advancing closer, I perceived a solitary figure beneath pristine linens, their countenance concealed.

After verifying the area's security, I breached the medical ward's threshold, traversing its interior with calculated stealth.

Upon approaching the bed, profound relief suffused me as I recognized Juniper's visage. Though her eyes remained closed, the subtle rhythmic movement of her chest affirmed her vitality.

"Juniper..." I murmured, consciously restraining my volume.

She slumbered deeply, yet her identity was unequivocal.

Advancing swiftly to her bedside, I delicately caressed her cheek. Her temperature appeared marginally elevated, with an intravenous line affixed to her arm. In the peripheral corner, a cardiac monitor emitted subdued electronic cadences.

I gently agitated her shoulder, attempting to rouse her without auditory disturbance.

"Juniper... please wake up..." I implored in a rasping whisper.

Her response—a pained vocalization of excessive volume—prompted me to swiftly place my palm over her mouth. Her eyes flew open in alarm, initial resistance yielding to recognition. Her expression transformed from bewilderment to profound astonishment as our gazes met. Her opposition ceased, replaced by evident concern in her regard.

"We need to leave right now," I urged, maintaining hushed tones as I gradually withdrew my hand.

"How are you here?" she inquired, matching my subdued volume as she elevated herself.

I observed her ebony tresses cascading in disarrayed waves around her shoulders. Never had I witnessed her in such dishevelment—hair matted, visage devoid of cosmetics, emanating the scent of prolonged absence from hygiene, attired in identical clinical garments.

"Whatever they've told you, these people aren't what they seem," I tried to explain.

I needed her trust, though uncertain she'd believe me.

"We need to escape before they discover I'm gone."

She surveyed the room before looking back at me.

"They claimed they were helping me break my curse," she said, disappointed yet unsurprised. "I always suspected it might be a lie."

I paused, absorbing this information. They'd concealed the truth from her, just as they had from Alpha Joshua.

"They plan to kill me and use me to turn you into a Callisto vessel," I said, gripping her hand. "It would cure your curse but render you a mindless container—a puppet for Phoebe."

The color drained from her face as tears formed in her eyes.

"I knew good things don't come easily," she remarked, looking at our clasped hands. "My father surely doesn't know Phoebe's true intentions."

"I think you're right," I agreed.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"I know the way out," I lied. "But we must move quickly."

Juniper nodded weakly. "Let's go."

I helped remove her IV and disconnect the heart monitor, ensuring I silenced it before any alerts could trigger.

Juniper climbed out of the bed, her movements unsteady, but she managed to stand.

"I haven't been out of bed in a long time," she admitted.

I gave her an encouraging smile, then took a syringe and a scalpel from my pocket, offering them to her.

"These can be used as weapons if we run into trouble," I explained.

She stared wide-eyed at the syringe and scalpel, examining them carefully.

"What's in the syringe?" she asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "But considering where I found it, it can't be anything good."

"True enough," she murmured with a smile.

"Hey! What's going on here?!" an angry voice shouted from the distance.

I spun around to see two of Dominic's hunters charging toward us, raising tranquilizer guns as they ran. One shouted back into the darkness, "Notify Phoebe!"

"Shit," Juniper gasped.

"You need to trust me," I said firmly.

My tone sounded more confident than I felt.

Juniper glanced at me but didn't argue.

The medical ward's doors burst open as the hunters rushed in, aiming their tranquilizer guns at us. I positioned myself in a fighting stance.

Juniper stood behind me, and I could feel her fear of the impending confrontation.

"Get down!" I yelled as the tranquilizer darts fired.

Juniper immediately dropped to the floor, and I leaped upward. The darts sailed harmlessly past us. While still in the air, a second gun fired, and I managed to kick the dart off its trajectory. It hit the far wall, the syringe shattering on impact.

As I landed, the hunters were frantically trying to reload. I kicked their weapons from their hands, then delivered a solid punch to one hunter's face. He staggered backward, nearly falling but regaining his balance.

I grabbed the other hunter and smashed his head into the first one's, then swept their legs out from under them, sending both crashing to the floor.

A final kick ensured both hunters were completely unconscious.

Juniper was still huddled on the ground, looking up at me with terrified eyes.

I knew we didn't have much time. More hunters, along with Phoebe and her associates, would arrive at any moment.

I gestured for Juniper to follow me.

"We need to go," I said urgently.