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“These molecular patterns… They’re not from Apex—their bioweapons leave different markers. This is…this is something different.” She stops herself and busies herself with an empty test tube.

“You seem very certain about that.” Watching her face carefully. “Were you that familiar with Apex’s weapons?”

The implications hang heavy between us. How would a biochemist know about classified weapons development? Unless…

Fresh pain lances through my wing before I can pursue that thought. I gasp as fire races along the toxic lines spreading across my membrane.

“Dante!” Her arms catch me as I sway, all professional distance forgotten. The fear in her voice makes my chest tight. “I have some ideas for treatment, but I need you to trust me. What I’m about to try… I’ve never synthesized this particular compound before, but the theoretical framework exists.”

“You’ve been treating the symptoms all this time.” Managing through gritted teeth. “Why wait until now to mention you might know how to actually fight it?”

Her fingers tremble slightly as she prepares compounds for the injection. “Because until this moment, I honestly didn’t have a clear idea of what I was dealing with. But at least I have a better working hypothesis now.”

Something’s off. She’s avoiding eye contact, and now that I’m sitting comfortably, she’s turned her back to me to fiddle with a microscope.

“I’ve been analyzing blood samples, running tests, trying to get a solid grasp of the problem before I risk making it worse. This particular toxin…if you treat it wrong, it accelerates. I needed to be sure.” The raw honesty in her voice makes me want to believe her, even as questions multiply in my mind.

“Do what you need to.”Gritting my teeth against another wave of pain. “But your behavior makes me think you’re keeping something from me.”

Her fingers tremble slightly as she combines solutions and prepares an injection. “Right now, we need to focus on stopping the spread before it reaches your primary nervous system. If these readings are accurate…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t need to. We both know what happens to cryptids who suffer catastrophic nervous system damage.

“Hey.” Nuzzling her with my face, my horns grazing her hair as I draw her closer despite the pain. “I don’t know what you’re hiding, but as crazy as it sounds… I trust you.”

There’s no explaining it—something in me believes her, all the way down to the bone. And I hope to hell I’m right, because my life’s on the line. The words seem to pierce her more deeply than any toxin. Her eyes fill with tears she quickly blinks away.

“I’m not sure you should.” The whisper is so quiet I almost miss it. Before I can respond, she straightens with renewed determination. “The first treatment will hurt.” I nod, then watch for the next hour as she prepares an injection, her attention fully focused on the compound she’s creating.

Finally, she asks, “Are you ready?”

Nodding, I let her position my wing for the injections. After the first needle slides home, her free hand finds mine. I clench it perhaps too tightly as liquid fire courses through my veins, sheathing my nails as I grip her more tightly.

“The antivenom should slow the spread.” Her voice anchors me through the pain. “But we need to find the source. The exact composition. Without it…”

“Later.” I squeeze her hand as another wave hits. “Science later.”

Her quiet laugh holds more worry than humor. “Now who’s deflecting?”

As she works, I can’t help noticing how her hands shake whenever she traces the spreading lines. This isn’t the clinical uncertainty of a scientist facing an unknown compound. This is the trembling of someone forced to confront something they never wanted to see. Something personal.

The implications terrify me almost as much as the toxin racing through my system. Almost as much as the way she looks at me, her eyes hooded with a secret. Whatever her connection to this weapon is, I don’t think it’s through her work with Apex. And somehow, that makes it even more frightening.

Some poisons spread beneath the skin. Some secrets refuse to stay buried. And some truths hurt more than any venom.

Chapter Fourteen

Blair

The crystal formations cast a soft glow across my research notes as I try to focus on the molecular analysis. But my mind keeps drifting to Dante’s deteriorating condition, to the weight of secrets pressing against my chest. The quiet of the library offers no peace tonight.

Chelsea’s voice drifts softly from her radio broadcast room down the hall, tonight’s show a rerun about synchronicity, psychic phenomena, and remote viewing.

“You should rest.” Even injured, Dante moves with such animal grace he almost snuck up on me. “It’s late.”

“I need to understand these binding patterns.” But my hands shake as I adjust the crystal-powered microscope. “The molecular structure is unlike anything I’ve seen in Apex’s files.”

This poison was designed specifically to kill him. And I know exactly who made it.