Page 21

" Y ou're going to work yourself to death."

I stand in the doorway of the lab, watching Dahlia hunch over her microscope like it holds all the secrets of the universe. She doesn't even look up when I enter. Typical. When she's in this mode, a bomb could go off and she wouldn't notice.

"I brought coffee," I add, holding up the steaming mug as a peace offering.

That gets her attention. Her head snaps up, and she blinks rapidly like she's coming out of a trance. Dark circles shadow underneath her eyes, and her wild curls look like she's been running her hands through them for hours.

"Oh my god, you're my hero," she breathes, making grabby hands at the cup.

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."

She swallows hard, taking a small step back. "Onyx..."

"Don't." I hold up a hand. "We don't need to have that conversation right now. Tell me more about this cure."

Relief flickers across her face at the change of subject. She turns back to her computer, pulling up complex diagrams and charts.

"The protein in my blood targets the virus specifically," she explains. "It doesn't affect any other cells. It's like it was designed to fight this exact pathogen."

"That's... convenient," I say slowly.

She nods. "Too convenient, maybe. I've been thinking about that. What are the odds that I'd have exactly the right antibody for a virus that was engineered in a lab?"

"You think there's a connection?" I lean against the counter again, watching her face.

"I think nothing about this situation is random." She tucks a curl behind her ear. "My Omega awakening, the virus outbreak, finding all of you... It feels like pieces of a puzzle I can't quite see."

"How's that going? This whole... multiple Alpha situation."

Her cheeks flush pink. "It's complicated."

"I bet." I can't keep the edge from my voice. "Four Alphas for one Omega. That's quite a harem you've collected."

"It's not like that," she protests. "I didn't go looking for any of you. You all just... happened."

"All at once? That's one hell of a coincidence."

She sighs, rubbing her temples. "According to my research, it's unprecedented. Most Omegas have only one compatible Alpha, and possibly two in rare cases. Four is..."

"Greedy?" I suggest with a raised eyebrow.

That earns me a glare. "I was going to say, 'statistically improbable.'"

"So why us? Why all four?"

"I have a theory." She leans back in her chair, looking up at me. "My Omega biology was dormant for over thirty years. When it finally awakened, it was like a dam breaking. All that pent-up energy and biological imperative coming out at once."

"Making up for lost time," I mutter.

"Exactly." She nods. "Instead of finding one compatible Alpha for normal Omega development, I found all of you at once. Like my body couldn't decide which one was best, so it chose... all of the above."

"Lucky us," I say dryly.

Her eyes narrow. "You don't have to sound so thrilled about it."

"Oh, I'm thrilled to share you with three other men," I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's every Alpha's dream."

"I didn't ask for this either, you know." She stands again, hands on her hips. "One minute I'm a normal human scientist, the next I'm some rare Omega with four possessive Alphas breathing down my neck. You think that's easy?"

"I think you're enjoying it more than you let on."

Her mouth opens, then closes, her cheeks flushing darker. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" I step closer, invading her space. "Your scent changes when you talk about them. Your pupils dilate. Your heart beats faster."

"My body reacts to all of you," she admits quietly. "I can't help that."

"And what about the rest of you? Your mind? Your heart?" I reach out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "What do they want?"

She leans into my touch, just slightly. "I don't know yet."

It's not the answer I want, but it's honest. I can respect that.

"So, what's next?" I ask, dropping my hand. "With the cure, I mean."

She seems relieved by the shift back to safer territory. "I've isolated enough of the protein to make a small test dose. It's not much, but it might be enough to show if I'm on the right track."

"Have you tested it on infected blood samples?"

"Yes, and it works beautifully in vitro." She bites her lip again. "But that's not the same as testing it in a living subject."

My heart skips a beat. "Mara."

She nods slowly. "She's the most advanced case we have. If it works on her..."

"Then it could work for anyone," I finish.

"But Onyx, I need you to understand the risks." Her expression turns serious. "This is experimental. Untested. It could do nothing. It could make her worse. It could…"

"Kill her?" I ask bluntly.

"Yes." She doesn't sugarcoat it. "I wouldn't normally suggest human trials this early, but time isn't on our side. Hammond's containment squads are already rounding up shifters. And Mara..."

"Is dying anyway," I say. "How long does she have without the treatment?"

Dahlia's eyes soften with sympathy. "Days. Maybe less."

I take a deep breath, weighing the options. Mara is more than my cousin; she's like a sister to me. After her parents died, she became my responsibility. My pack. My family.

"Do it," I say finally. "Test it on her."

"Are you sure?" Dahlia searches my face. "This isn't just your decision. It's hers too."

"She'd want to try." Of this, I'm certain. "Mara's a fighter. She'd rather go down swinging than waste away in that bed."

Dahlia nods, turning to a small, refrigerated unit in the corner of the lab. She pulls out a tiny vial filled with clear liquid.

"Is this?" I ask, surprised by how ordinary it looks.

"Sometimes the most powerful things come in small packages," she says with a small smile.

We head to the medical room where Mara lies hooked up to monitors. Her condition has deteriorated since yesterday. Her breathing is labored, and the monitors show her heart rate is erratic.

Dahlia approaches the bed, checking Mara's vitals. "Her fever's up. 104.2."

"Is that too high for the treatment?" I ask, hovering nearby.

"No, but it's not ideal." She prepares a syringe, drawing the clear liquid from the vial. "I'm going to inject it directly into her bloodstream. If it works, we should see results quickly."

I move to Mara's side, taking her hand in mine. Her skin burns against my palm. "Hang in there, little cousin," I murmur. "Help is coming."

Dahlia finds a vein in Mara's arm and slides the needle in before she pushes the plunger until all the liquid is gone.

For several seconds, nothing happens. Then Mara's body goes rigid, and her back arches off the bed. The monitors start beeping frantically as her heart rate spikes.

"What's happening?" I demand, gripping Mara's hand tighter.

"Her body's fighting the treatment," Dahlia says, moving quickly to check the monitors. "It's an immune response. I expected it, but this is intense."

Mara begins to convulse, her limbs jerking violently. I must let go of her hand to help Dahlia hold her down.

"Should we stop it?" I ask, panic rising in my chest.

"We can't." Dahlia's voice is strained as she struggles to keep Mara from hurting herself. "The protein's already in her system. We have to let it run its course."

Mara lets out a scream that turns into a howl halfway through. It's a sound of pure agony that cuts me to the bone. Her skin ripples more violently now, the partial transformations happening faster and faster.

"Come on, Mara," Dahlia urges. "Fight it. Fight through it."

Just when I think Mara can't take it anymore, her body suddenly goes limp. The monitors stop their frantic beeping, settling into a steady rhythm. Her breathing evens out, and the patches of fur recede completely.

"Is she..." I can't finish the question.

"Her vitals are stabilizing," Dahlia says, checking the monitors. "Heart rate normal. Blood pressure returning to baseline. Temperature... dropping."

Hope blooms in my chest. "Is it working?"

"I think so." Dahlia presses a hand to Mara's forehead. "Her fever's breaking. And look… the partial shifts have stopped."

I watch in amazement as Mara's skin remains human. Her breathing is deep and even now, like she's fallen into a peaceful sleep.

"How long until we know for sure?" I ask, hardly daring to believe what I'm seeing.

"If she stays stable for the next hour, it's a good sign." Dahlia checks Mara's pupils with a small flashlight. "I'll need to take blood samples to confirm the virus is being neutralized."

I nod, unable to take my eyes off Mara's face. The pain lines that have been etched there for weeks seem to be softening already.

"You did it," I whisper, turning to Dahlia. "You actually fucking did it."

She shakes her head. "We don't know that yet. This could be temporary. Or she could relapse. Or…"

I cut her off by pulling her into my arms. She stiffens in surprise, then melts against me, and presses her face against my chest.

"Thank you," I murmur into her hair. "Even if it doesn't last, you gave her a chance. You gave all of us a chance."

Her arms tighten around my waist. "I couldn't have done it without you. Any of you."

I pull back slightly, looking down at her upturned face. "I think you could have done it without us. But I'm glad you didn't have to."

"Onyx..."

Whatever she was about to say is interrupted by a small sound from the bed. We both turn to see Mara's eyelids fluttering.

Then her eyes open.