Samantha
I struggled to wrap my head around what was going on, unwilling to believe that everything had gone from marvelous to deadly so fast—again.
I wanted to rail and shake my fist at the sky, yell, “This isn’t fair! I’m just a nerdy labrat, not an adventurer!” But what was the point in that?
It had happened, and I had to find a way to deal with it.
First, my communicator had refused to work, and the screen had been all wobbly and wonky.
It was damaged somehow, possibly by the water, the water pressure, or maybe I’d knocked it into something when I fought those guards yesterday.
Regardless, without that communicator, there was no way I could get Kaerius’s people the help they needed, and I couldn’t call home to tell the others I was fine, either.
It sucked.
What happened next had sucked even more.
I thought all those eyes in a coiling, writhing mass of black had been terrifying, but seeing several of those fully grown things attack was worse.
Kaerius had protected me, shielding me with his body, and even so, one shadowy tentacle had whipped past and briefly brushed against me.
It did not hurt, but it had caused what I’d call massive panic among the Ondrithar.
Even without Bruinen—Kaerius’s head guard—explaining to me what it meant, I knew it was bad.
When he told me that, with an infection like mine, the only possible way to save my life was to stop it from spreading to the rest of my body, I knew I had to come up with a better plan; I did not want to lose my arm or my life.
By the time I’d decided I didn’t want to lose my arm, I had already spent most of the rush back to the palace panicking.
But that whole freeze thing—I was over it, and now I was ready to start using my head.
“What did you call those things again?” I said as Kaerius arrowed through an entrance and into the building, his speed never slowing.
It tickled at the back of my brain, but Bruinen’s casual mention of amputation had made me forget the word.
It was stirring some subconscious part of me, and I had a feeling it was big.
“Spores,” Kaerius growled furiously, his eyes flashing as he glared at the spreading green and blue tendrils that curled around my forearm.
They had spread up to my elbow at this point, and they were advancing more quickly now, as if they’d gained critical mass.
It was no wonder these things, and the Shadefin, terrified the Ondrithar.
But spores…
Yeah, that was the word that had already sparked an idea in my head.
I had to assume that Kaerius and his people had done all they could to fight this phenomenon, but what if they hadn’t tried this?
They had fought the Shadefin centuries ago when they were new arrivals on the planet themselves.
They had crashed their ship, according to Kaerius, and then used their fuel as a last resort to poison the nests of these creatures.
What else had they tried since?
And how much did they still know about their own technology?
The ship was mostly submerged—it had lights, and some computers functioned—but what about a fully kitted-out lab?
I didn’t know what I could expect until we careened around the corner and arrived at the medical center.
It was a dry room, which made sense, and we surfaced through one of those pool entrances.
Water sluiced off our bodies, but it beaded strangely on my affected arm, the drops protectively settling on top of each spore on my skin.
There were two people in the room, and they straightened as soon as they saw us.
One wore a white coat, and the other a dark green dress, so I instantly assumed the pair were a doctor and a nurse.
Neither introduced themselves but rushed toward me the moment Kaerius carried me through the entrance.
The bright, sterile glow of the medical chamber stung my eyes, and I winced as the harsh white lighting glared off the walls.
My arm had begun to tingle, the green-and-blue tendrils of the infection curling higher up toward my shoulder, pulsing like something alive beneath my skin.
“Put her down,” the doctor ordered, already reaching for a set of instruments on a nearby table.
He had short black hair and a very serious expression on his face, one that bordered on grim.
The nurse rushed to obey his commands, swiftly unrolling a pale-blue medical sheet onto a sleek metal bed.
“We need to begin preparation immediately.”
Preparation.
My breath hitched.
“No,” I croaked, twisting in Kaerius’s arms.
“No, wait—what exactly are you prepping me for?”
There were quick, grim looks shared all around the room—from the medical staff to the pair of guards, and even the councilwoman, Firia.
Kaerius’s arms tightened around me, squeezing as if he feared to let me go, or I’d disappear.
“We must halt the infection before it spreads to your torso,” the doctor said gravely.
“If it reaches your vital organs, there will be nothing we can do.” He was already holding up some kind of syringe, and when I looked past him at the tray next to the bed, I saw an array of sharp knives and something that looked suspiciously like a bone saw.
Heck no.
“I know what you’re implying,” I said, my stomach dropping.
“But I am not losing my arm.” I flexed my fist, and my skin burned along the trails of color the spores had left.
This was a barbaric solution, but this room looked high-tech enough to offer better options.
Surely they had tried everything before resorting to this?
Kaerius let out a snarl, his voice edged with fury.
“You will not refuse treatment.” I heard what he wasn’t saying, the fear beneath that anger: his fear of losing me.
It made my chest ache with a weight of all kinds of feelings, but this felt so wrong.
I couldn’t accept it.
I met his glare, my own rising frustration matching his.
“Not until I know more! What treatments have you tried?” Kaerius’s eyes flashed silver-bright, his scales pressing against his skin as if his body couldn’t contain his fury.
“Everything,” the doctor said impatiently.
“Nothing has stopped the spores from taking root once they reach this stage.” I sucked in a sharp breath, my mind racing.
Spores.
A fungal infection.
The pieces clicked into place, pulling from hazy memories of an elective I’d taken years ago in college.
“I’m not a mycologist,” I admitted, glancing at the spreading tendrils on my arm.
“But I took some side courses in fungal biology, and I know that some spores can be destroyed with a hydrochloric acid solution.”
Silence filled the room.
Now, the glances shared all around weren’t grim so much as uneasy, confused.
The doctor shifted closer, his gray eyes narrowing.
“Hydrochloric acid? What is that?” He crossed his arms over his chest, but he was leaning closer, listening.
I could also see how he was keeping careful watch of the tendrils that climbed my arm.
They had almost reached my shoulder, and I knew he wouldn’t want to wait much longer.
I swallowed, trying to recall details from my chemistry courses.
“It’s… a solution that can break down organic material. It disrupts the cellular integrity of spores. It’s used in some antifungal treatments on Earth. And all you need is salt and water to make it, though the process is a little dangerous and involved.” But it wouldn’t necessarily take long, depending on what setup they had.
Firia, who had been standing tensely near the door, took a step forward.
“Kaerius,” she said, her voice sharp with urgency.
“You need to handle the Vekesh situation now. This infection isn’t your only crisis.”
Kaerius’s entire body went rigid.
“I will not leave her.” My gasp was fuel to that fire, and I raised my untainted hand to contain it.
I did not want him to leave, either, but I recalled the harried, fearful expression on the Ondrithar woman only too well.
She thought Kaerius's kingdom was on the brink of collapse because of this final councilman, Vekesh.
“That is not an option,” Firia snapped. “He is stirring rebellion in your absence! You swore to protect our people. The kingdom must come first.” I hated every word of that statement, but I had to admit I admired her loyalty. If this was about the safety of the humans in stasis on the USS Legacy , I knew I wouldn’t have much choice either.
Kaerius’s jaw clenched. “She is my heart,” he growled. “Nothing else matters.” My heart clenched. This was everything I had feared. His love—his claim —was pulling him away from his duty. I couldn’t let my presence be the reason his kingdom fell apart.
I reached up, cupping his face and forcing his silver gaze to meet mine. “Go,” I whispered. “Be a king.” His lips crushed against mine—desperate and consuming—as if he were sealing a promise between us. I kissed him back with everything I had, even as fear twisted in my gut. When he finally pulled away, I saw the battle raging in his eyes. Then, with a final glance, he turned and left. I let out a shaky breath and turned back to the doctor. “We don’t have time. I need to make that solution.”
He hesitated only a second before nodding. “Tell me what you need.” Digging through the recesses of my mind, I rattled off the basics of hydrochloric acid synthesis—what elements, what temperatures, what stabilizers. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t a guarantee. But for the first time since I had been infected, I had a sliver of hope.
As the doctor moved to prepare the solution, I felt Aenon step closer, his presence steady beside me. When I glanced up at him, I saw something new in his expression—not just duty, but respect. I wasn’t just Kaerius’s mate. I wasn’t just some helpless human to him anymore—a liability. No, I’d proven myself.