Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I grabbed her as we both collapsed. I curled around her as another rib snapped with a sickening crunch. Rook cried out, convulsing as more ice soared like glittering daggers.
Capturing her jaw, I crushed my mouth to hers in a fierce, messy kiss. The second our lips met, the world fractured.
We slipped, tumbling into the dreamscape—that misty, shimmery meadow—and the fire and ice instantly ceased.
I got it now.
What Frank said about this place being the source of our power made sense.
In this space, the powers stopped fighting us because for now...they were us.
Rook writhed beneath me as I kissed her deeper. She answered with equal hunger, her frost wrapping around my flames in a perfect, harmonious dance.
Everything went calm—the circuit completed, creating an undying ouroboros where there was no beginning or end, no life or death, just peace.
Pulling back, I caught her eyes—
We snapped back to reality with a violent jolt.
Cold water hammered us from the ceiling. The sprinkler system drenched the ruined room, thawing out the frozen furniture and dripping off the smoking curtains.
Staggering to my feet, I helped Rook up.
Frank and Dillon stood drenched by the destroyed TV and Whisper—
I choked on a laugh. “Whoops.”
Whisper bared his fangs.
Rook giggled beside me. “Oh no, we’re so sorry, kitty cat. We didn’t mean to...”
The once sleek and majestic panther looked like a drowned, miserable kitten. His fur stuck up in wet tufts, droplets flying as he shook himself with an indignant growl.
“Well.” Frank cleared his throat. “I’m guessing you didn’t mean to do that.”
“Nope.” Rook shuddered as I wrapped my arm around her and tugged her close.
“I suggest you watch what you say from now on.” I narrowed my eyes pointedly. “It seems as if the ‘parasite’ is listening.”
“Ah.” Frank nodded and tapped his nose with understanding. “Noted.” Marching to the door, he ripped off his sodden lab coat. “Let’s go. I’ve had enough of talking.”
“Go where?” I asked, guiding Rook toward the door.
“To test every inch of both of you.” Frank raked his hands through his grey, wet hair. “Somewhere inside you is a way to keep you alive, and I won’t fucking stop until I find it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
THE NEXT SEVEN DAYS BLURRED INTO A relentless cycle of needles, machines, and cold clinical experiments.
It started with a full-body X-ray and CT scans.
Frank wanted me to go first, but...just in case any of his little tests interfered with our tampered DNA, Lucien flatly refused.
He went first—lying perfectly still while the machine whirred—imaging every bone, joint, and hidden secret deep with him.
We all gathered around the images as Frank hung them against the light panel. He called in a specialist radiographer to decipher what everything meant and his face aged another ten years as the results showed hundreds of hairline fractures throughout Lucien’s body—his entire skeleton riddled with faint threads where the fire had broken and mended him.
My heart squeezed with despair as the evidence of his death was so clear to see.
Unfortunately, my scans were worse.
The frost had crystallised, appearing on the scans like tiny snowflakes on every inch of me. Every rib, every femur—even my fingerbones had steadily transformed into icicles that acted as snowy scaffolding keeping me alive...for now.
Frank had to sit down. Dillon looked green. Whisper snarled. And I merely let Lucien drag me into his arms, sharing the angry fire inside him, doing our best to keep our powers content so they didn’t overtake us and destroy the lab.
His grief flowed down the bond constantly. His fear of losing me. His rage at my pain.
We were both as helpless as the other and every look we shared was full of goodbyes and denial.
Once Frank could stand again, he arranged a blood draw every six hours for three days, hoping to see a correlation or pattern. Each sample came out blacker than the last. To begin with, he ran it through every analyser in the lab—searching for that little silver-and-gold flash from the first day, but...our cells just kept collapsing.
No matter what test or trial he did...nothing helped.
By day four of blood tests and X-rays, he gave up and moved on to MRIs.
Once again, Lucien went first (after testing the vitalsync core would be safe), and the bond throbbed with claustrophobia as the loud tube thumped around him. Frank kept us in there until every inch was mapped, making our brains ache and teeth throb.
Every test he did infuriated the ice until it took all my strength to keep it from surging. Lucien’s fire turned violent and we went from finding relief in each other’s company to constantly needing to touch.
If we stopped holding hands even for a moment, the power broke through our feeble control and destroyed a computer or something equally as valuable.
The MRI scan made my skull feel as if it’d been chiselled apart, but...the bone marrow aspiration was the worst. Funny that we’d killed the scientists at Roy Swift’s place for threatening to do this, yet now...we willingly submitted.