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I cross the room and set it beside her, careful not to disturb the organized chaos of her workstation. "When's the last time you slept?"

"Sleep is for the weak," she mutters, taking a long sip. Her eyes close in pleasure, and a small moan escapes her lips.

My wolf stirs at the sound. Fuck. Even exhausted and wearing a lab coat splattered with who-knows-what, she does things to me I can't control.

"Find anything interesting?" I ask, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms to keep from touching her.

Her eyes fly open, suddenly bright with excitement. "Onyx, I think I found it. The cure."

"What?" I straighten immediately. "Are you serious?"

"I had an accident." She rolls up her sleeve, showing me her forearm. "I spilled an active virus on myself."

"You what?" My voice drops dangerously low. "Are you fucking insane?"

"It was an accident!" She holds up her hands defensively. "I knocked over a vial."

"Jesus Christ, Dahlia!" I grab her arm, examining it closely like I might see the virus crawling on her skin. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could be infected right now!"

"But I'm not," she says, pulling her arm back. "That's the whole point. I'm immune."

I stare at her, not comprehending. "Immune? How?"

"My blood." She spins in her chair, pointing at a screen filled with images I don't understand. "Watch this."

She clicks a button, and a video plays showing red cells floating in plasma. Then tiny dark particles enter the frame, which I assume are the virus. The moment they touch the blood cells, they disintegrate.

"What am I looking at?" I ask, leaning closer.

"That's my blood destroying the virus," she explains, her voice trembling with excitement. "My Omega DNA contains a unique protein that prevents the virus from attaching to my cells. It dissolves on contact."

I shake my head, struggling to process this. "So, you're saying your blood is the cure?"

"Not exactly. I can't just donate blood to cure everyone." She turns back to face me. "But I believe I can isolate this protein and create a synthetic version that would work for all shifters."

Hope flares in my chest for the first time in months. "You think it'll work?"

"I'm almost certain." She bites her lip, a gesture I find impossibly distracting. "I've already started the isolation process."

I want to be happy, ecstatic, even, but all I can think about is how close she came to infection. "You could have died, you know that? If you weren't immune, you'd be convulsing on the floor right now."

Her excitement dims slightly. "I know. It was stupid and careless."

"Careless doesn't begin to cover it." I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm the panic still racing through my veins. "What if you weren't immune? What if your blood wasn't special? What then?"

"Then I'd be in trouble," she admits quietly. "But I'm not. I'm fine."

"This time," I growl. "What about next time you decide to play Russian roulette with deadly viruses?"

She stands up suddenly, poking me in the chest with her finger. "I didn't decide anything! It was an accident! And instead of lecturing me about safety protocols, maybe you could be a little excited that I might have just found the thing that will save your cousin's life?"

We're toe to toe now, her chin tilted up defiantly, and her eyes flashing. My gaze drops to her mouth, remembering how those lips felt against mine. The air between us crackles with tension.

"I am excited," I say. "And terrified. And fucking furious that you put yourself at risk."

"Why do you care so much?" she challenges.

"You know why."