CHAPTER 8

Ren sat in the sterile clinic, his nerves strung so tight that even the faint hum of the overhead lights pressed against his ears. The air smelled of antiseptic—sharp, clean, suffocating. His gaze followed Corvin as the doctor moved about in his spotless white coat, hands precise, movements practiced.

His eyes caught the small syringe in Corvin's hand, gleaming faintly under the light, and instantly, memory slammed into him.

He had something like that in his backpack.

His chest tightened, his breath caught.

Where is my backpack?

A sick dread gnawed at his insides. If Axton had gotten his hands on it, if anyone had found what was inside, then— No. He forced his mind away from that thought. He could not afford to imagine Axton discovering the truth. He might have survived his last brush with death by a miracle, but if the captain uncovered that Ren had been sent not just to infiltrate, but to seduce… then his corpse would be nothing but another warning for others.

His focus snapped back when Corvin's footsteps echoed against the tiled floor.

"Your hand," Corvin said simply, extending his gloved palm toward him.

Ren's muscles tensed. Reluctantly, he stretched out his hand, his green eyes sharp and watchful, tracing every flicker of movement.

The needle slid beneath his skin with deceptive gentleness, the prick sharp but tolerable. He watched his own blood fill the syringe—dark, rich, and slow.

"Hold it. Firm pressure," Corvin instructed, withdrawing the needle with care before pressing a gauze pad to Ren's wrist.

Ren nodded once, pressing his thumb against it. His gaze trailed after the doctor as he carried the filled syringe to a nearby table littered with polished instruments. Corvin's hands were steady as he transferred the blood into a transparent vial, then placed it carefully into the cool belly of a humming mini-fridge.

"Now," Corvin turned back with another vial in hand, "how are your wounds?"

Ren's eyes flickered to his shoulder. The gash had knitted somewhat, but the skin was still raw, the pain lingering beneath the surface like embers. It was healing, but too slowly.

"I don't know," he muttered.

"You're weak," Corvin observed flatly, eyes lingering on Ren's face as if searching for cracks. "Your body needs replenishment. Faster regeneration depends on what you feed it. As you are, you're unfit for a trip back to your base. But…" his lips twitched faintly, "since the captain commanded it, I'll benefit as well."

He placed the vial in Ren's lap with a faint clink.

"Bring me your sister's blood. I'll need to run my tests on hers too."

Ren stiffened. His frown was instant, his voice tight with warning. "No. Keep my sister out of this madness—"

"You will do as he asked."

The voice that cut him off was sharp, controlled, and instantly lethal.

Ren's gut lurched. That voice could only belong to one man.

His breath grew shallow as Axton stepped into the room, silver eyes gleaming like steel under firelight. And beside him, Lieutenant Rhys—the same man who had struck him days ago, his presence no less menacing now.

Why are they here? Ren's pulse quickened. It was always bad when Axton showed up. Always.

"Was I clear?" Axton's tone was deceptively calm as he halted in front of Ren, gaze stripping him bare.

Ren forced his lips to move. "Yes, Captain." His voice was low, controlled. Compliance was safer than defiance. Better her blood than Mira herself. He would never let them lay hands on her.

"Proceed," Axton ordered. His words were simple, his command absolute. "Rhys. Give it to Corvin."

Ren's eyes tracked the lieutenant's movements as Rhys handed over a small black bag.

"Put a name on this, Corvin," Rhys said carelessly.

Corvin's head tilted slightly. "That would be Doctor Corvin, Lieutenant." Without waiting for a reply, he carried the bag to his instruments.

Ren's curiosity sharpened to dread. His gaze refused to leave Corvin's hands. His heartbeat thundered as the doctor unzipped the bag.

The moment the familiar vial gleamed in Corvin's palm, Ren's stomach dropped.

No. No, no, no…

His breath hitched. His body stiffened as if the floor had vanished beneath him.

They had found it.

They had found his bag.

Axton's brows drew together in a faint frown as he turned his attention fully on Ren, eyes narrowing to slivers of silver. "I do hope the vial proves how important your death would have been." His voice was silk wrapped around blades, sliding directly into Ren's veins.

Ren's skin prickled. His chest hollowed. That vial didn't just prove his death—it was his death.

Corvin's steps echoed as he carried the vial closer, the liquid swirling inside like a storm in glass. Ren's eyes darted to him, desperate, pleading. Tell him it's something else. Please. Tell him it's nothing.

"Captain," Corvin began, lips twitching into the faintest smirk, his gaze cutting toward Ren like a scalpel. "The vial contains no lethal agent. A waste of a specimen, if you ask me. Instead, it is a concentrated aphrodisiac. A dangerously high dose. This was no assassination attempt." His voice lowered, deliberately cold. "It was an attempt at seduction. He was tasked with compromising you—your control, your discipline. They wanted you vulnerable… to his touch."

The words hung heavy in the room.

The air shifted—charged, suffocating. Axton's aura deepened, darkened, swallowing everything in its wake. Even Rhys stiffened.

Ren could almost smell death itself pressing into his nostrils.

"Captain, do you need me to—"

Axton's hand lifted. Rhys fell silent instantly.

The captain stepped forward, his presence eclipsing everything. His hand slid under Ren's chin, forcing his head upward. Silver eyes locked into green, sharp as a predator holding its prey in place.

"You wanted to seduce me?" Axton's voice dropped, intimate and dangerous, only for Ren to hear.

Ren's body trembled. His throat felt scorched dry. Fear sank bone-deep, but he knew—knew—if he didn't speak carefully now, this clinic would become his grave.

He swallowed hard. "Captain, I… I do not want to seduce you. I—"

"Then explain," Axton interrupted, his grip tightening before sliding down Ren's shoulder. His fingers pressed into the half-healed wound.

Pain shot through Ren's body.

"Ahh!" He gasped sharply, his entire frame shuddering. The wound split anew under Axton's deliberate pressure.

"Answer me, Renault." Axton's jaw flexed. "Why did you have an aphrodisiac in your pack?"

Ren's instincts screamed. His hand clawed weakly at Axton's wrist, trying to pull him away, but the man was unmovable, immovable—unyielding iron.

"Speak!" Axton snapped, shoving Ren backward. He toppled onto the cold floor, the impact jolting through him.

Ren groaned, forcing his trembling arms to push himself up. He staggered to his feet, chest heaving, eyes wide with terror.

"I'll speak! Please—don't hurt me anymore," he rasped, voice breaking with desperation.

His lungs burned. His body felt close to breaking. But he had to cling to whatever scraps of strength he had left.

"It wasn't me," Ren blurted. "Commander Reed ordered me. He gave me the aphrodisiac. He told me to use it—" He stopped to catch his breath.

"And if you had?" Axton closed the distance between them in two steps, grip snapping around Ren's chin again, forcing eye contact. "Let's say you did use it. Let's pretend I was at your mercy. What then?"

Ren shook his head rapidly, panic written across his face. "No—it wasn't like that! The plan was never to touch you, Captain. It was only a front. My true orders were to uncover your research. Reed wants your cure—your findings. He wants to claim it as his own, to parade himself as the world's savior. My disguise, my presence here—it was only to get close enough to steal your work."

Axton's gaze drilled into him, unreadable, silver hard and unrelenting. After a long moment, he shoved Ren's face aside and stepped back.

"Reed infiltrated my borders," Axton said coldly, voice laced with fury. "Then I will break him. I will conquer him."

He turned slightly, as if dismissing Ren, before pausing. His eyes flicked back. "Do you want your sister to live?"

Ren's stomach twisted. His lips parted. "…Yes. More than anything."

"Then bring me Base 7's maps. Agricultural plans. And your sister's blood." His voice was calm again, casual, as though ordering tea. "Do this. By midnight. Or your sister dies first."

Ren's body shook. He wanted to scream, but instead he found his voice steadying. "I need serums," he forced out. "For her. Or kill me now and forget your plans."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

"What did you say?" Axton's voice was dangerous, low, forcing him to repeat.

Ren straightened slightly despite the tremor in his frame. "I need those serums. For my sister. Or you might as well kill me here." His green eyes blazed faintly—fear and defiance braided together.

Axton's lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Load him with a thousand serums," he ordered.

"Captain?" Rhys balked.

"Yes, Captain," Corvin cut in smoothly.

Rhys stiffened, then bowed his head. "At once. I'll send men to deliver them."

"Good." Axton turned his gaze back to Ren, silver eyes catching green.

"Renault."

Ren clenched his fists, jaw tight. "Yes, Captain?"

"You have the serums now. Return with everything I've asked for. Especially…" Axton's voice lowered, deliberate, "yourself."

And with that, the captain left the infirmary, leaving Ren trembling but alive—for now.