Semua Bab Addicted to His Rejected Mate: Bab 61 - Bab 70

[Killian] The word lands between us on the wet concrete, and the cold takes it. All of them. She looks at me. Not flinching. Not leaning toward me. She's standing with one hand resting on the IV pole, the hospital gown visible at her collar, and her eyes are doing that thing I've spent eighteen months trying to categorize and filing wrong every time. She's listening. Actually listening, not bracing. I don't know what to do

[Sera]I wake up to white.Not hospital white. The ceiling is the same stained beige it was yesterday. But the window has changed overnight. Where there used to be Seattle's skyline, gray and rain-streaked and familiar, there's now nothing. Just white. Thick, heavy, absolute, like someone hung a sheet over the glass.I sit up. The IV pulls at the back of my hand, and the monitor chirps its disapproval. Outside, the world has disappeared. Snow has buried the parking lot, the rooftops, the streets. The cars below are just lumps, soft mounds with no edges. Wi

[Killian]Forty minutes.I've been counting. Not consciously. The way you count heartbeats during a stress test, automatic, background noise that your body tracks even when your mind is busy pretending it doesn't care about the number.The double doors haven't opened. Nurses go in and out through a side entrance I can't see, their voices low, their shoes squeaking on the tile. Machines beep behind the wall in patterns I can't decode. Somewhere in there, a child is being examined, and I am sitting in a plastic chair with no legal standing, no medical author

[Sera]He knows.I can see it in the way he stands. Not the Killian who walked into Vance's four days ago with his boardroom posture and his fifty-dollar power play. This is something else. His eyes are red-rimmed. His face has that tight, hollowed quality of a man who has recently been taken apart and put himself back together with pieces missing.He knows, and he is standing three feet from my daughter.Every nerve in my body fires at once. Not the shaking kind from the co

[Killian]The second transfer is worse.Not the procedure itself. Dr. Nakamura's hands are steady, the needle finds the vein on the first try, and the energy-mediated bridge hums its quiet mechanical song between my arm and Lulu's IV port. The process is the same as last night. Twelve minutes. A controlled bleed of Alpha essence from my system into hers.What's worse is the drop.Yesterday I went from sixty percent to thirty. Today I start at thirty and the floor gives way t