My Oxygen Novels & Stories

"Vane! Trigger the high-voltage arcs in the ventilation shafts! We need to create Ozone!" Ozone, a powerful oxidant, was the only thing that could kill the spores without destroying the city. Audrey and a small team of Smoke-Walkers—whose wolf-blood provided a high metabolic resistance to the pheromones—had to crawl through the city’s secondary ducts, which were already being choked by white, spider-web-like fungi.

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“I need a straight answer. Because I can’t keep doing this. Wanting you so badly it hurts, while also being terrified that you’ll just disappear on me again.” Thane didn’t answer right away. His eyes searched my face like he was weighing something dangerous. Something he wasn’t sure he should say. Then his lips parted. “My oxygen.” My heart stuttered painfully in my chest. For a second, the air in the room felt too thin to breathe. I blinked at him, stunned. Thane stood there calmly, watching me. But my mind was spinning. My chest tightened. Oxygen? What the hell did he mean by that?

The purified oxygen was then stored in high-pressure tanks and distributed to passenger oxygen masks and crew oxygen masks in case of an emergency. Rajesh emphasised the importance of the oxygen system's reliability and efficiency. He explained that the molecular sieves used in their aircraft are designed to maintain a consistent oxygen supply, even under extreme conditions such as high altitudes or sudden changes in atmospheric pressure, ensuring safety and security for all onboard. Rajesh's presentation impressed the audience with its cutting-edge technology and attention to safety. They gained a deeper understanding of how the oxygen system played a vital role in ensuring the well-being o

The cool air stung my lungs, but I obeyed, forcing my body to comply. "Check her oxygen levels," the doctor instructed. A nurse pressed a small device onto my fingertip. A red light flickered, numbers shifting on the screen. "Blood oxygen is stabilizing," the nurse confirmed. "Good. Keep her on low-flow oxygen, just in case." A mask was placed gently over my nose. Oxygen trickled in—light, cool, grounding. My fingers twitched, testing movement. I was weak, but not broken. "ECG?" The doctor turned to another nurse.

I tried to return that favor but Trei already blocked my view from my brother. A moment later and Skyr was at my side again and set up the oxygen tank beside the bed. “This is the water plant-based oxygen like the ones in Atlantis. This should do for now to help stabilize your breathing. Let’s just hope that your body will do the rest of the healing process.” Skyr grabbed the tube and inserted it in my nose. “I know it doesn’t feel comfortable but it will help you recover quickly.” Skyr moved back to probably check my vitals on the screen.

Yet, she'd never once mentioned she had such a person in her life who required this level of coddling. My body grew heavier by the second, and the flames in front of me began to fracture into countless dark spots. My legs buckled, and I could only lean on the blazing-hot storage rack behind me to stay upright. I raised a trembling hand and pointed at the oxygen tank on Colin's back that was engraved with "For Emergency Use Only", desperately wanting to expose his lie. But I couldn't utter a sound. Nothing came out of my throat except for a hoarse wheeze.

he added and my heart melted. "I can only be happy when you are." I replied honestly. His eyes shined as he looked at me. "Baby, with you in my arms, how could I be anything but overjoyed?" he answered. He held me tight as we watched our children play on the lawn, with our pack working and relaxing around them. He looked down at me with eyes filled with pure love. "I'm so lucky to have been blessed with you. I may be an Alpha but I would be nothing without my true Omega."

Even the bond was nothing but a frayed wire sparking in the dark. I tried to sit up, and my head spun. I failed to notice the lightness that came when I breathed. My lungs felt like they had been filled with wet cement that had finally hardened. A thin, clear tube was hooked to my nose. It hissed with the steady rhythm of medical-grade oxygen. It was a human sound, a beautiful yet artificial sound. "Don't," a voice rumbled from the corner.

"Oh, God...please," Gray Stewart prayed, holding Sasha Neuman's bloodied hand tightly in between her shaking hands. "Please," she whispered underneath her breath, gazing down with her well up eyes at an unconscious redhead woman wearing a non-rebreather oxygen mask with a pulse oximeter attached to her finger that was connected to a monitor.