0913.
The numbers glowed in my mind, seared there by the raw terror in his voice. The alarm on the tablet was a physical scream in the silent room. Temperature: 108. Heart rate: 190 and climbing.
Before I become what they fear.
The scraping faded down the hall, toward the laboratory. Toward the shelves of reactive chemicals, the pressurized canisters, the bio samples that could level a city block if mishandled.
Silas's warning was a cold hand around my throat. You do not approach him.
Damien's plea was a fire in my blood. Let me in.
My father had sold me. Scott had despised me. My entire life, I'd been the one acted upon, the consequence, the afterthought. A Null. A defect.
But this choice was mine.
I moved.
My fingers trembled as I punched the code into the keypad. 0-9-1-3. A soft beep, and the magnetic lock disengaged with a heavy thunk.
The hallway was empty, lit by dim emergency strips along the floor. From the direction of the lab came a sound of shattering glass.
I ran.
The lab door was sealed shut, a red containment light pulsing above it. Through the reinforced glass panel, I saw chaos.
Damien was on his knees in the center of the room, surrounded by glittering shards from a toppled equipment cart. His suit jacket was gone, his white shirt plastered to his skin with sweat. Every muscle in his back and arms stood out in terrifying relief, cords of tension vibrating under his skin. His head was bowed, his hands clenched on the floor as if holding the world together.
But it was his shadow that stopped my breath.
Cast against the far wall by the surgical lights, it didn't match his human form. It was largely distorted like the silhouette of a massive, hunched beast with elongated claws and a misshapen skull.
"Damien!" I shouted, pounding on the glass.
He didn't look up. A low, guttural sound ripped from his throat, not human, not wolf. Something caught between.
The keypad by this door was more complex. I didn't have the code. I slapped the red emergency release button. Nothing. Lockdown protocol.
Inside, Damien shuddered. His head snapped up.
His eyes met mine through the glass.
They were no longer winter grey. They were fully molten gold, pupils vertical slits the eyes of his wolf. But within that feral glow was a sliver of desperate, human consciousness. Recognition. And a warning.
He snarled, baring teeth that were too sharp, too long. "Get… away!" The words were mangled but clear.
"The door's locked! How do I get in?"
He shook his head violently, a battle raging in his expression. With a visible, agonizing effort, he lifted a trembling hand and pointed not at the keypad, but at a small, unmarked panel near the floor to my left.
A manual override. For maintenance.
I dropped to my knees, pried the panel open. Inside was a simple lever, bright yellow, labeled: EMERGENCY VENTING ONLY. CONTAINMENT BREACH RISK.
I didn't hesitate. I pulled it.
A hiss of depressurizing seals, and the lab door slid open a foot before jamming. The air that rushed out was blisteringly hot, smelling of ozone, burnt sugar, and the coppery tang of blood.
Damien recoiled from the open door as if from a physical blow. "No! Seal it! The… contaminants…"
Too late. I was already squeezing through the gap.
The heat inside was oppressive. I could see now what the shadow hinted at. Physical changes were rippling under his skin, vertebrae pressing against his shirt, jawline distending and reforming. He was fighting the shift with every atom of his will, but he was losing.
"The serum," I gasped, my eyes scanning the wreckage for the black case holding his injections. "Where is it?"
"Won't… work… too late…" He convulsed, a cry of agony tearing from him. His fingers scrabbled against the floor, leaving bloody grooves. The parasite treatment had failed. His body was rejecting it, and the curse was surging forward to fill the void.
The tablet in my hand gave one last, shrill alarm before the screen filled with a flat, red warning: CRITICAL BIOLOGICAL CASCADE.
I had no power. No magic. I was a Null.
But I was all he had.
I didn't think. I acted on an instinct deeper than fear. I walked toward him, into the radius of his pain, and dropped to my knees in front of him, just outside his reach.
"Damien. Look at me."
His feral, golden eyes locked onto mine. A growl vibrated the air between us.
"You bought me," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "You own me, remember? Well, I'm a terrible investment if you die tonight. So stop."
I reached out. Not to touch him, but to place my hand, palm up, on the floor between us. An offering. A challenge.
He stared at my hand as if it were a snake. The beast in his eyes warred with the man. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling with the effort of containment.
"You hate me," I whispered. "Fine. Hate me tomorrow. But tonight, use it. Anchor to it. My scentlessness. My emptiness. Use my Null as your tether. Don't let go."
Something fractured in his gaze. The savage glow flickered. For a second, the grey bled back in around the edges. He was listening.
He didn't take my hand. But he lowered his head, his forehead nearly touching the cool floor, his eyes squeezed shut. His entire being focused inward on a battle I could only imagine.
The changes under his skin slowed. The tremors lessened from quakes to shudders.
Minutes passed, measured in the dripping of a broken fluid line and our shared, labored breaths. Slowly, painfully, the heat in the room began to recede. The shadow on the wall shrank, resolving back into the shape of a man.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were human again grey, exhausted, and filled with a storm of emotions I couldn't name. Shame. Gratitude. Fury. Awe.
We stayed there, kneeling amidst the wreckage, two broken things in a sea of glass.
"Why?" he rasped, his voice sandpaper raw.
"You gave me the code," I said simply.
Before he could respond, running footsteps echoed in the hall. Silas skidded to a halt in the doorway, his face pale with panic that morphed into shock as he took in the scene: the ruined lab, Damien on the floor, me kneeling calmly before him.
"What have you done?" Silas hissed at me, his fanatical composure shattered.
Damien pushed himself up, swaying slightly. He looked from Silas to me, and his expression hardened into something deadly.
"She did what you couldn't, Silas." Damien's voice was low, but it carried absolute authority. "She contained me. Without a syringe. Without a cage."
Silas's eyes darted between us, calculations flying behind his glasses. "The protocol—"
"Is flawed. You said she was the key." Damien took a step, glass crunching under his shoe. He didn't look away from his researcher. "You were right. But not in the way you thought."
A cold understanding dawned on Silas's face, followed by a flash of something darker betrayal, or perhaps fear.
Damien turned to me, his gaze intent. "The blood draw is canceled. From now on, you're with me." He said it like a decree, but his eyes asked a silent question.
Then his attention snapped back to Silas. "Secure this lab. I want a full report on the parasite batch by morning. And Silas?" Damien's tone dropped to a whisper that was more threatening than a shout. "You don't touch her. You don't test her. You don't even look at her without my express permission. Is that clear?"
Silas bowed his head, but not before I saw the resentment burning in his eyes. "Perfectly, sir."
Damien gestured for me to follow him out of the ruined lab. As I passed Silas, the researcher didn't look up, but his hand, hidden in his lab coat pocket, clenched into a white knuckled fist.
We were halfway down the hall when Damien staggered, catching himself against the wall. The aftermath of the fight was hitting him. I moved to support him, and he didn't shrug me off. His weight was solid, real, human.
He looked down at me, his face etched with exhaustion and something else. "The code I gave you," he said quietly. "0913. That wasn't my turning date."
I froze. "What was it?"
He met my gaze, his own filled with a profound, unsettling gravity.
"It was the day I led the coup on your family's pack. The day I became the monster you have every right to hate."