She turns to put the plate on the counter where a breakfast spread already sits, and she sees me watching her. She seems relieved. “You’re awake,” she says.
“I am,” I respond. I get up to go join her in the kitchen, quietly noting with relief how my body feels like my own again.
She smiles faintly. “I noticed you weren’t tensing in your sleep, and the vomiting stopped, so I was hoping the medicine finally worked. Are you okay?”
It’s taking so much willpower for me not to close the distance between us familiarly and touch her. Put my arm around her waist and kiss away the worried creases in her forehead.
“I feel great,” I say simply instead.
She exhales happily. “Alright, good.” An alarm goes off on her phone, and after looking at it, she announces, “Final dose.”
I sit on a stool at the kitchen counter, and she brings out the last vial from the case. She inserts the needle on the inside of my elbow, and this time, I don’t immediately feel any dramatic effects.
She watches my face carefully. “Any nausea?”
I smile. “No, I’m good.”
She puts the syringe away. “Great. Let’s have breakfast.”
We sit at the coffee table in the living room to eat, and I gobble up my food. It’s something Anne worked hard to prepare for me. Now that I’m not sick, I will eat whatever she makes me with gusto.
I watch her as I eat. Her bites are slower than mine, and she seems tired, although I can tell she has already showered this morning; her hair is still damp.
I’m about to say something stupid, like how beautiful I think she is, when a knock interrupts our silent meal.
Anne gets up to answer it. I recognize Darius’s voice immediately.
“How is he?”
“See for yourself,” she says, stepping aside.
Darius enters, his eyes scanning me with that assessing alpha gaze of his. I can see the moment he registers the improvement—his shoulders relax slightly, though his expression remains guarded.
“You look significantly less like death,” he observes.
“I feel significantly less like death,” I reply.
“Good. Because I need you functional.” He pulls out his phone and checks the screen. “The researchers want to see you and examine the effects of the medicine firsthand. It was part of the deal that allowed us to get it so quickly.”
My stomach clenches. “Researchers?”
“Yes. The ones I told you about yesterday. They’re healers from different packs who have been developing this antidote for years. They need data to continue their work, and you are the first subject.” Darius’s tone makes it clear this isn’t optional. “I told them that this situation is top secret, and they didn’t mind coming here quietly to see you. They’re waiting at the medical center.”
I nod slowly, forcing down the instinctive panic. These are pack healers. The good guys. Not the Covenant scientists who used to—
I cut off that thought before it can fully form.
“I’ll come with you,” Anne says.
Both Darius and I turn our heads to look at her.
“You don’t have to—” I start.
“I know I don’t have to.” Her chin lifts slightly, defiantly. “I want to.”
Darius looks between us, an unreadable expression on his face, then shrugs. “Nothing says you can’t come.”
I get up slowly. “Let me go freshen up.”
