LOGINDrakeNot long after she fell asleep, the peace I had hoped for vanished. Angel began to mumble, her words tangled and broken, the distress visible in the way her brow pinched and her head thrashed against the pillow.“Angel, wake up,” I whispered, my voice cutting through the dark. “It’s a dream. You’re having a nightmare.”“Drake…” she groaned, her eyes still squeezed shut, her fingers clawing strongly at the silk sheets.“Little mouse, wake up.”Her eyes snapped open, wide and unfocused, filled with a raw fear that made my chest tighten. For a moment, she didn't see the room or the stars through the window; she saw whatever ghost had been chasing her in the dark.“Hey, it’s okay,” I murmured. I reached out, holding her with a careful touch, mindful of the bandage covering her arm so she wouldn't jar the injury.“I wa… s innn the pit,” she stammered, her words tripping over each other, slurred by the lingering terror of the dream.“It’s fine. You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let a
AngelSuddenly Drake stands up. “You’re leaving?” I asked. Drake had barely turned toward the door when the words slipped out of my mouth. He paused. Not fully turning back. Just… paused.“I should,” he said. “You need rest.”“I’ve been resting,” I replied quickly. “That’s all I’ve been doing.”Silence. Then he turned, slowly. His eyes met mine, and there was something in them, something softer than before.“Stay,” I said. The word came out quieter this time. Less defensive. More… honest. “Just for a while.”He studied me like he was trying to decide something. “You’re not afraid?” he asked.“Of you?” I tilted my head slightly. “Should I be?”A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Most people are.”“I’m not most people,” I said.A pause. Then he walked back. Not rushed, not reluctant, just deliberate. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat.“You’re stubborn,” he said.“I’ve been called worse.”“I believe that.”I let out a small laugh. “Wow… that was almost an insult.”“It was.”“Goo
AngelAfter the tests, I requested to be brought back to my room. I am back there now. The clinical air was making me feel more sick than the injury itself.I could still remember the look on Dr. Vance’s face when he walked in with the results of the MRI and CT scan.“The Siphon-Core is there, but it is very weak,” he had said, his voice filled with a quiet disbelief. “We can say this is a miracle, but you still need to come for more tests. Let’s be sure.”His words brought a great relief to me. I felt the weight lift off my chest, though Drake looked surprised, his eyes searching the doctor’s face for a catch that wasn't there.“I would like to go back home, I had told Drake , I feel more sick staying here.”And with that, it took just those words to bring me back.To my surprise, I did not know it was an underground facility so close to the mansion. I was stunned when we finally came out and I realized we had been beneath the earth this entire time.In the last four hours since I wa
DrakeI held her gaze. Didn’t soften it. Didn’t lie. “It’s real.”Her chest rose sharply. “But… I feel fine.” That again. I didn’t like it. Dr. Vance didn’t either.“That’s the problem,” he said quietly. Her gaze snapped back to him. “What do you mean?”“It should have activated already.”A pause.“It should be affecting you.”Her voice dropped. “…how?” Vance hesitated. Just for a second. Then, “Shaking. Weakness. Loss of control.”Her fingers tightened. “And then?” He didn’t answer immediately. I saw it. The hesitation. The choice.“Vance,” I said low.He ignored me. “…and eventually,” he continued, “your body shuts down.”Shock. Real. Unfiltered. “…shuts down?”“Yes.”Her breathing became uneven now. “But I’m fine,” she said quickly. “You said it yourself, I’m fine.”“No,” Vance corrected softly. “You appear fine.”That broke something. I saw it in the way her expression shifted. In the way her body tensed. “…what’s that supposed to mean?” she whispered.“It means,” he said carefull
DrakeHours passed. Too many. I lost count somewhere between the steady beeping of the monitors and the rise and fall of her chest. The room had grown quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against you, that made every small sound feel louder than it should.I didn’t leave.I told myself I was waiting for an update. That was a lie. My eyes stayed on her. Angel lay still against the white sheets. Her breathing was steady, controlled by the rhythm of the machines beside her. The faint rise of her chest was the only thing reminding me she was still here.Unaware. Not gone. Not yet.My fingers tapped once against the armrest. Stopped. The scent in the room was wrong. Antiseptic. Cold. Not her. My jaw tightened. Nothing about this felt right. That bullet should have done something. The Siphon-Core should have reacted. It should have fed. It should have,A faint movement.It was small. Barely noticeable. Her fingers. They twitched. Once. Then again. I leaned forward slightly, my gaze sharp
DrakeEarlier, Dr. Vance had called me out to the lab.I stood over the lab table, staring down at the ribbed, hollowed-out bullet through the microscope. It looked like nothing, just a piece of dead metal, dark like burnt coal.But I knew better. He had shown me the bullet that was taken from Angel’s body.“We know what it is, Drake,” Dr. Vance said, his voice tight, controlled, but the tension beneath it was obvious.“A test was carried out,” he continued, “and we found out there was more to the bullet. Of course, they knew that not just any bullet would take you down.”A pause.“The chemical residue on the casing is Siphon-core”. I didn’t look up. My gaze remained fixed on the bullet.“It’s built to drain an Alpha,” he continued, “and hollow out the host from the inside.”Silence followed. Heavy.But Angel. Angel had shown no sign of anything wrong.No discoloration, no internal decay, no visible reaction.To anyone else, she looked fine, completely fine.“It’s not reacting,” I mut







