Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 42253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
He snorts unkindly.
“If this is beyond your scope,” I state, “perhaps one of the others can step in and take over. Sayer? He’s great at figuring stuff out and—”
“Absolutely rekking not,” Avrell growls. “He doesn’t know the first thing about medicine. Calix and I have been studying the data you’ve sent, but we can’t make sense of it just yet.”
“So, keep working on it,” I bark out. “Zoe, run the tests on the people here. You know what you’re doing.” I give her another squeeze on her shoulder, and she sits up straighter.
“This is a terrible idea,” Avrell roars. “What if someone hasn’t yet been infected and you willingly subject them to the disease? You’re forcing them into The Eternals on some hope it’ll work! Morts may be safe, but the humans and children are not!”
“Beats letting them die without trying,” Zoe snaps back. “If you don’t want to help, fine, but we don’t sit around at this place waiting for the right conditions to exist before we take action. Maybe if you monsters would have tried something a long time ago—”
“Enough,” I rumble, this time my words for her. I won’t have her blaming Avrell for the past. He’s always had the morts’ best interest at heart.
She lets out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, bro.”
“Go take a breather, sis,” I say in a playful tone. “Lyric and I can continue the meeting.”
Zoe rises and gives me a playful punch to the gut. She’s not a hugger like Willow, but it’s her own way of connecting. I take it for what it is.
Once she’s gone, I sit down in the chair and notice Avrell has relaxed.
“It needs to be controlled,” Avrell says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Talk sense into her. One person at a time. Don’t let her inject her blood into everyone.” He shudders. “I’ll have Calix set up a program we can run variables on. Just…please talk sense into her until…”
I perk up and lift my brows. “Until what?”
“Until I get there.”
I’m assaulted with a mixture of excitement to see my friend and fear that he might fall ill. “Avrell, I thought about it, and I think you need to stay away because it’s not safe. There are beasts out here that we know nothing about and we can’t risk our doctor—”
He holds his hand up. “I’ve already told Breccan I’m going despite the risks.”
Told? Since when does anyone tell Breccan anything?
“It’s not safe,” I warn.
“It’s imperative.”
Lyric rises from her seat and then sits on the arm of the chair beside me. I can’t help but loop an arm around her waist. Since she’s woken from her bout of The Rades, she’s allowed me to touch and hold her more. I think her contracting the illness scared the both of us.
Avrell’s eyes fall to my action. He seems pleased, not jealous. As though this satisfies his mind in some way.
“I’ll come alone,” he says. “Have Theron ready his ship to come fetch me at his earliest convenience.”
The thought of leaving Lyric makes my stomach tighten with nerves. “I, uh, I should stay here,” I tell him. “For protection. They need me.” She needs me.
Lyric surprises me by piping up. “Willow will go.”
I look up at her. “She can’t stay there. You know this, right?”
“I know,” she says sadly. “But maybe they could see each other, even if through a barrier. She needs this, Hadrian.”
Lyric needs this with Aria, too.
One day, I vow, I will give that to her.
“I will stay and Willow will go,” I agree. “They can bring back Avrell, and together, the Facility and Exilium will eradicate The Rades once and for all. I’m confident we can do this. We’ve made it too far to die out now. I won’t rekking let it happen.”
* * *
She doesn’t sway or falter, but I can tell she’s tired. Lyric is stubborn. I’d suggested she rest and let me handle things around here, but she was having none of it. She thought her people needed to see her, not some handsome freak show—her words, not mine—in her place. So, together, we visited the healthy, the sick, and the dying. It’s been an exhausting solar.
I walk her to her room and when we hug our usual goodbye, I don’t let go. Simply hold her tight. She pulls away slightly and tilts her nog up. My gaze falls to her plump lips that finally have regained their color and are no longer cracked and peeling. The urge to touch them is intense. Reaching up, I run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, marveling over the softness. When her lips wrap around my thumb and her tongue rubs against the clawed tip of my nail, I widen my eyes in shock. She licks the rough pad of my thumb, her eyes locked with mine, before slowly pulling away. Her teeth bite down on the claw, making her eyes flash in a wicked way.