Chapter 4

Azure's POV

Rolling my neck, I stepped into the lab, seeing all of my scientists working diligently on our newest product.

“Mr. Blackwood,” one of our oldest employees, Douglas, smiles, handing me a white lab coat. “Are you here to test out the new gear?”

I nodded with a smile, “Won’t know if it’s effective if I don’t.”

He chuckles nervously, “It still baffles me that you choose to be your own product tester.”

I shrug, a sly smirk spreading on my lips, “It still baffles me that more CEO’s aren’t. Is the facility ready for me?”

“Always,” Douglas presses a finger against the keypad, and it illuminates green, allowing us entry. Along the walls are prototypes for my newest bullet-proof compression shirts.

I came up with a design that would be comfortable for combat, as well as light and flexible for the average soldier. But more importantly, it’s designed to eliminate the effects of silver bullets.

“Have we tested the material on larger guns?”

“Nothing above thirty-nine millimeters, sir,” I placed my finger against the next keypad, watching as it flashed green, and then unlocking a small door. Inside sat the very first finalized design for our new line called Azure.

Finnick, my cofounder and best friend, called me a arrogant fool for naming our newest product after myself, but I’ll be damned if the world doesn’t know the name of the man who will save countless lives.

I stripped out of my suit jacket and button down, quickly pulling the flexible material over my body. It hugged me like a second skin without feeling as though I was being smothered.

“Start with a forty-five today.”

Douglas’s eyes grew wide, “Sir, that’s not been tested yet.”

“Then make sure you take notes,” I gave him my back as I pressed my finger against another scanner. “My job is to find limits and create something that goes beyond them.”

The testing area door slid open, and I stepped inside, stretching as the machines whirled to life. Finnick created an arena type setting for me to test our product.

Various robots were set up throughout the arena, able to move just as humans would. They were equipped with turrets that shot various bullet sizes, and obstacles that mirrored what you might encounter out in the real world.

It was a marvelous creation.

“Testing begins in three minutes,” Douglas’s voice called out through an intercom system.

‘You certainly love taking risks, Azure,’ Nero snickers in my head.

‘And you don’t?’ I snort, knowing damn well we’re on the same page.

Nero and I run a tight ship. Here at Blackwood INC as well as back in our pack. As the Alpha of Blackwood, one of the largest wolf packs on the West coast, we have to.

Nearly two thousand members rely on us to ensure that our kind is safe, and without the bond that we share, that simply wouldn’t be possible.

“Fifteen seconds sir,” a female voice comes through the line.

‘Sure you don’t want to back out,’ Nero challenges, but he knows better.

I’d rather be shot through the gut by a forty-five mm bullet than accept defeat.

‘You sound scared.’

‘You seem to have forgotten who I am,’ Nero pushes to the forefront of my mind, sharing my consciousness.

The robots begin moving, and we dash towards the simulated forest.

A bullet whizzes by my face, smashing into a tree with a loud, splintering sound.

“Az,” Finnick’s voice crackles through the arena. “I need to speak with you.”

“Not now,” I shout, irritated by the interruption, and sprinting away from one of the robots chasing me.

“It’s important,” he sounds annoyed, which is typical. As my Beta, he’s used to my personality. He also knows when I’m in here, he’s supposed to leave me the hell alone.

“I’m not sure if you have gone blind since this morning, but,” I roll, smacking my shoulder into a tree to avoid another shot. “But I’m testing a product which means you should be off doing something more important than bothering me.”

“The clinic called,” he hissed through the speaker, and my body froze.

Did the most recent implant work?

A bullet spun through the air, and I watched it in slow motion, spiraling until it smacked into my chest. My body flew back ten feet, skidding across the ground.

Heavy breaths caused my chest to heave, and I glanced down, a wicked grin spreading on my face.

The shirt wasn’t even torn.

‘Our sternum is cracked, you asshat,’ Nero snarled, but I was too busy gleaming. The pain didn’t even register as I climbed back onto my feet, running towards the initial impact. Sitting on the ground was a crushed bullet.

Picking it up, I rubbed my fingers over the silver, ignoring the burning of my skin.

“We did it,” I held up the bullet, knowing that every scientist working for me was watching this display. “We fucking did it.”

Using the back of my hand, I swiped the sweat from my hairline, heading back into the prep room.

Finnick was standing there with his arms over his chest, “You are an agitating human.”

I tossed the bullet towards him, watching his face scrunch up with pain when he caught it, “Another failure?” I peeled the prototype from my body, hanging it up for inspection before stepping over to the mirror and taking in the damage on my chest.

My black hair was a mess, and dried blood clung to my forehead. A single drip had managed to almost pass my eyebrow, getting into my eyes.

Nero was slacking.

The gray color appeared lighter when I was excited, and right now, I am on top of the fucking world.

Bright purple bloomed over the center of my chest, with almost black right over where the bone sat beneath the skin.

I can barely feel it now. By tomorrow, you wouldn’t even be able to tell I’d been shot.

“You could call it that,” he chewed his bottom lip.

“Spit it out,” I snarled, growing impatient.

“There was a mix-up with your sperm,” Finnick stared at my chest with wide eyes. “Seems that your baby juice was mixed with some random chick’s egg. They want you to go down to the clinic and deal with the legalities.”

“Why does it matter?” I buttoned up my shirt. “Every attempt prior to now has failed with the screened donors. What makes this one different?”

Nero perked up at the thought of having a pup. I was turning thirty this year, and the pack was breathing down my neck to produce an heir for Blackwood. I was already eight by the time my father turned thirty, yet I have only just begun to consider the idea of a pup through a surrogate. 

But without a mate, and no desire to take in a chosen one, I’d resorted to a screened surrogate, much to the dismay of my family.

“She’s human.”

Shit.