Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Which meant the final compound would not stabilize in a tube—it needed a living host.
It needed him.
He sat back slowly, staring at the ruined sample. There it was—the shape of the cure.
Cassandra’s body was the catalyst. Ravik’s seed had awakened the Beast immune component and Severin’s blood provided a partial healing bridge, but his essence would be needed to lock the reaction into place.
And the virus, clever little monster that it was, was already trying to exploit Cassandra’s need for the very materials that might save her.
Severin rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, careful not to touch his oculars. How in the Seven Hells was he supposed to explain this to her?
Cassandra, your infection is taking a nonstandard pathway…
No—too clinical. Maybe the direct approach was best.
Cassandra, the virus isn’t making you crave flesh. It appears to be making you crave sex and seed…
Severin winced as he imagined telling her. She would either slap him or accuse him of inventing the most convenient diagnosis in medical history. And honestly, he could hardly blame her.
The worst part was that the finding would be impossible to separate from his own desire. He had wanted her before the data proved she might need him. He had watched her with Ravik and wanted to be included. He had imagined his mouth on her, his fingers in her, his fangs in her throat while she came around his hand.
Now science was handing him a reason to be with her…that actually made him trust himself less, not more.
He leaned over the scope again and forced himself to examine the sample objectively.
There were signs of systemic response in Cassandra’s blood. Her inflammatory markers had risen and so had her arousal-linked hormones. The bite wound on her arm, if he tested it again, would likely show increased activity. She might not feel ill yet, but she would soon feel something.
Heat, perhaps…restlessness…aching…need.
And because the virus was following the same pathway as the anti-viral response, denying the need might worsen her symptoms. Or it might slow the reaction and allow the Hunger virus to adapt unchecked.
He needed more data—of course he did—he always needed more data.
But he also needed to warn her.
Severin saved the test results to the secure file and pulled up the projected viral model. The hologram shimmered to life above the lab table, a twisting black-and-red structure with branching tendrils. He overlaid the Visskous pathway in yellow—mouth, appetite center, aggression response. Then Ravik’s in blue—olfactory centers, Beast Kindred instinct, mate-recognition distortion. Finally, with a hesitation he could not quite explain, he overlaid Cassandra’s in green.
The green pathway bloomed through the reproductive and endocrine systems. It bypassed the alimentary tract completely-no stomach or teeth or hunger in the ordinary sense. It was pure sexual need.
The hologram pulsed softly, three colors twisting around the central viral core. Severin stared at it. Visskous hunger devoured. Ravik’s hunger claimed. Cassandra’s hunger sought union.
A shiver went through him. The Hunger Virus was trying to turn her into something. Not an Infected—not as the Visskous understood it but something else…
A living convergence point. A female whose body could pull together Beast immune markers, Blood Kindred essence, and her own unstable human endocrine shield to create a cure no laboratory could synthesize.
A cure that required intimacy to activate.
Severin closed his eyes briefly.
“Goddess preserve me,” he murmured. “What have we found?”
And whatever it was, could he use it to make a cure that would bring Ravik all the way back to normal so they could all go home to the Mother Ship?
A soft sound in the doorway made his head snap up.
Cassandra was standing there, one hand on the frame, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly mussed. Ravik loomed behind her, now thankfully wearing loose sleep trousers, though his huge body was still bare from the waist up. His golden eyes were clearer than they had been before, but there was still a faint haze at the edges.
Cassandra’s gaze moved from Severin’s face to the hologram hovering above the table.
“What?” she demanded. “Why are you looking like that?”
Severin hesitated…which was apparently the wrong thing to do because her eyes narrowed.
“Severin?” She made his name a question.
He rose slowly, buying himself one more second to think.
There was no gentle way to say it—no way to make it sound less invasive or less absurd. But she deserved the truth, and he had promised himself he wouldn’t treat her like a specimen again.
“What you’re seeing is a virus map—or actually three maps overlayed on each other. I’ve found something,” he said.
“Well, clearly.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, then seemed to realize the gesture pushed them up under the red silk nightgown and quickly dropped her hands again. The flush on her cheeks deepened. “Is it bad?”
“Not…exactly,” Severin hedged.
She frowned.
“That’s not exactly a reassuring answer coming from a scientist.”