Catalyst (Savior Complex #1)

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Callie

T he melodic chiming of my alarm clock dragged me out of sleep long before I was ready, which fucking sucked. I’d already snoozed it three times, and now I had no choice but to face the day. Groaning, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, silently cursing myself for signing up for an 8 a.m. class. What the hell had I been thinking?

Yawning, I rolled over, trying to calculate exactly how long I could stay in bed without being late. Then, something clicked. For the first time since the showcase, I’d slept through the night.

My eyes snapped open, and my vision swam for a moment before focusing on the popcorn ceiling of Sulien’s room. Since his death, vivid memories disguised as nightmares had haunted my nights. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that arena—gasping for air between lungfuls of smoke, trapped under the heat of the explosion, watching the world disintegrate as blue flames tore through the air. But last night? Nothing. I’d been blessed with a blissful, dreamless sleep.

The bed creaked as I struggled to sit up, fighting against the familiar ache in my lower back. I let out a strained breath and rubbed the curve of my stomach. Pregnancy sucked. Everyone had warned me it would, but I hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

At least I still had some part of Sulien left with me.

My lip trembled as that sharp, familiar ache of grief clawed its way up my chest. Sulien’s room still smelled like him: faintly smoky, like burnt wood and something darker. Sleeping in his bed was comforting in a way, but it also made me miss him even more—and that was something I didn’t have time for right now.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretching as I stood. Lately, I felt unbearably heavy, and I knew it wasn’t just the pregnancy. Using food to fill the hole in my chest—especially homemade spinach artichoke dip—probably wasn’t helping, either. I sighed. There was nothing I could do about it now.

I padded over to the bag of clothes I’d left on top of Sulien’s dresser. I’d ordered some new outfits last night, but they wouldn’t arrive for a couple of days. Until then, I’d have to make do with what I had, which wasn’t much. After digging through the bag, I settled on a pair of leggings and a tank top that had fit last week. The leggings didn’t go on as smoothly as I anticipated, leaving them to stick to my thighs. Wiggling my hips, I slowly coerced them into place. The tank top wasn’t any better, leaving a strip of skin exposed just under the hem.

“Great,” I muttered, tugging at the shirt only for it to pop back up.

Maybe I should just skip school today. But no, that wasn’t an option. Skipping class just because my clothes didn’t fit would be pathetic. I had to keep going. I needed to prove I could do this—not just for myself, but for Sulien. For the baby.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging on Sulien’s door and turned slightly to inspect the bump. Before I could dwell on it too long, the door creaked open.

Kane stepped inside, shirtless, wearing charcoal gray pajama pants that hung low on his hips. In the dim light, his tattoos rippled across his tanned skin, almost blending into him.

I tried—and failed—to keep my gaze respectable. Normally, that would have been mortifying for me, but I took comfort in the fact that Kane’s thoughts were dirtier than mine.

Damn . His eyes lingered on me for just a second longer than they should have. She looks fucking good.

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze back to my face. “Is that what you’re wearing to school?”

I glanced at my reflection again, unsure what he was seeing. “I don’t have much of a choice,” I said with a forced smile, shrugging. “None of my clothes fit.”

Saying it out loud only made the embarrassment worse. I needed to stop growing. I felt like a human balloon. With two men lusting after me, I should’ve at least tried to look presentable. Jace and Kane deserved someone beautiful—not the bloated mess I was turning into.

“Steal one of Sul’s shirts,” Kane said plainly, already walking toward Sulien’s closet. He rummaged through the hangers, finally pulling out a dark, worn shirt with a singed collar. “He’s not around to help you raise the kid, so the least he can do is help keep you clothed.”

He tossed the shirt to me, and I caught it, the familiar scent of smoke instantly overwhelming me. My throat tightened as tears threatened to spill. Sulien wasn’t here. He would never meet our child—a child that would one day be older than him.

“You alright?” Kane asked, his voice softer now.

I forced a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine.”

But Kane wasn't convinced. His eyes lingered on mine as he watched my every move. I slipped Sulien’s shirt over my head, letting the thick fabric drape over my body. His smell almost broke me in a way I hadn't expected.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Kane’s tone shifted, almost like an order disguised as a question.

Was I hungry? Always. But I wasn’t about to admit that. I needed to be smaller than this.

“I’m fine,” I said, more to convince myself than him.

Kane didn’t buy it. His jaw tightened, arms crossing over his chest. “You sure? I made enough for two, and Jace isn’t home. Scrambled eggs don’t reheat well, so you’d be helping me out.”

I hesitated, torn between my pride and the gnawing hunger in my stomach. Before I could make up an excuse, Kane took me by the arm and tugged me toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” I protested, trying to keep up with his long strides.

“If you weren’t hungry, you would’ve said no immediately,” he replied, his words dripping with authority. “You’re eating breakfast.”

He led me to the small table by the fridge, already set with two plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and tomato slices. My stomach growled loudly at the sight.

One of Kane’s shadows crept from the floor to pull out a chair for me. “Sit,” he said, guiding me into the chair.

I thanked him quietly, my eyes darting to the plate in front of me. I didn’t have to eat it all; just a few bites would be enough to quell my hunger and keep the peace. It was a good plan—one that crumbled the second I took a bite.

The eggs were fluffy and perfectly seasoned. Damn it, they tasted good—good enough to make me forget, at least for a moment, about the calories.

“I knew you were hungry,” Kane said, sipping his coffee, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “I’m not gonna push you to admit why you didn’t want to eat... but just so you know, you don’t have to starve yourself around me.”

His comment hit harder than I expected, and I choked on a bite of toast. I grabbed my glass of apple juice, swallowing quickly to avoid making a scene.

“I’m just worried about school,” I lied. “Appearances matter to my family, and right now, I’m…”

I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Hot,” Kane asserted.

I blinked, unsure I’d heard him right.

“... What?”

“Hot.” He leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes never leaving mine.

My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t used to this side of Kane—this bold, assertive confidence. I scanned his thoughts, half-expecting to find a joke, but no. He was dead serious.

And his thoughts… holy shit. His mind was full of images—dirty, primal fantasies of bending me over the table, fucking me hard enough to make my legs tremble, of worshiping every inch of my body. Literally, every inch. The sheer intensity of his desires was almost overwhelming.

“You alright?” His voice dripped with amusement. “You’re looking a little red.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my focus on the food in front of me. But now, all I could think about was what I’d just seen in his head.

“Your... your thoughts are very loud,” I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Kane froze for a second, then a sheepish expression overtook his face. “I forgot you could do that. Is it… bad?”

I shook my head, my face still burning. “Just unexpected.”

“Good.” He flashed a slow, lazy smile, one he quickly hid under his hand. “Because I wasn’t about to apologize for it.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I finally looked up to meet his eyes. They were darker now, full of something raw and hungry. His chest rose and fell as he breathed deeply, his gaze never leaving mine. A cool tendril of shadow slid up the leg of my pants, wrapping around my ankle.

My breath hitched.

“Is that okay?” His voice was low, rough with restrained desire.

I nodded, unable to find any words to respond.

“Good.” His lips curved into a wicked grin. “Finish your breakfast, and I’ll help you relax.”

The shadow crept higher, curling around my thigh, and I nearly dropped my fork. My hands shook as I tried to lift another bite of eggs to my mouth. The shadow brushed the edge of my panties, and I gasped softly.

“What if I’m f-full?” I stammered, trying to steady my breath as the shadow teased me, brushing against my clit through my underwear.

“You’re not.” The shadow shifted again, pressing just enough to make my breath catch. “And I’m going to make sure you take care of yourself.”

I swallowed a whimper, hurriedly scooping the remaining eggs onto a piece of toast. Kane watched me with that same dark intensity, his lips curling into a smirk as I took bite after bite. Every time I swallowed, the shadow moved, stroking me through the fabric, keeping me on edge, driving me crazy.

By the time I finished the last bite of my toast, my breath was coming in shallow pants. I chased it down with a quick gulp of juice, desperate to satisfy him—and let’s be real—myself.

But just as I set the glass down, Kane withdrew his shadows. The sensation vanished, leaving me hollow and aching. My body screamed in protest, a whine slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

“Hey!” I panted, glaring at him. “What are you doing? I finished eating!”

Kane’s chuckle was low and deep as he stood, his chair scraping against the floor. He took his time crossing the small kitchen, his steps slow, deliberate, almost predatory.

“Oh, I know,” he said, his voice like silk as he stopped just in front of me. His hands slid over my shoulders, down the curve of my back. “Just because it’s your reward doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it, too.”

A shiver ran down my spine as his fingers trailed lower, skimming over the curve of my stomach before slipping under the hem of my shirt.

“Stand up,” he ordered softly, his lips brushing my ear. “Tits to the table.”

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if my legs would even hold me up. But Kane wasn’t the kind of guy who waited for permission. One of his hands pressed firmly between my shoulder blades, guiding me up and out of the chair. My body obeyed him before my mind could catch up, and the next thing I knew, I was standing, my chest pressed against the edge of the table.

The solid weight of his hands disappeared, only to return as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my leggings. With one sharp tug, they were down around my thighs, my panties following close behind. The sudden chill of air on my bare skin made me gasp.

“Jesus Christ,” Kane muttered, his voice low and thick, “You’re soaking wet.”

Heat flooded my cheeks as he toyed with my clit, his thumb sliding back and forth with agonizing precision. My body arched against the table, desperate for more.

“I knew you were a freak,” he murmured, his breath hot against the back of my neck. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were getting off on the idea of being fed and fucked.”

A whimper escaped my lips as I pressed my cheek to the cool surface of the table, giving him a lazy glance over my shoulder.

“M-maybe…” I admitted, too far gone to care how embarrassing it was.

A wicked grin spread across Kane’s face. “Oh, Jace is going to have a fucking field day with that.”

Before I could respond, his shadows wrapped around my ankles, pulling my legs apart and anchoring me in place. I choked on my breath, bracing for his next move, but nothing no amount of preparation could have readied me for the feeling of his tongue against my clit. The sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure tearing through me.

“Oh my God,” I gasped as his shadows pushed inside me, stretching me with the same slow, deliberate rhythm he’d teased me with earlier.

The combination of his tongue, the shadows, and the cool table pressing against my skin was too much. My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending raw and exposed. It was overwhelming—in the best way possible.

My legs trembled as my climax hit like a tidal wave. The pleasure was so intense I momentarily forgot how to breathe.

As the aftershocks rippled through me, Kane finally withdrew, leaving me trembling and spent. My chest heaved as I sucked in air, my mind blissfully blank for the first time in months.

Then I saw Kane casually tossing my leggings into the trash.

“H-hey!” I gasped, my voice shaky.

He shot me a smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re not wearing those again.”

“Why not?” I protested weakly.

“Because they don’t fit.” His gaze softened slightly, and he reached down, pulling me to my feet. “I’ve got some sweatpants you can borrow.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist, steadying me as I wobbled, my knees still weak from everything he’d just done. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he made sure I wouldn’t fall before letting me go.

“Take your time getting ready,” he murmured, looking away from me. “It won’t kill you to be a couple of minutes late.”

I nodded, even though I disagreed. Kane gave me one last lingering look before heading out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the delicious ache he’d left behind.

I sank back into the chair, my heart still pounding and my body still buzzing with the afterglow. I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening between us, but whatever it was… I wasn’t ready for it to stop.

I really needed to write Kane a thank-you note for this morning. Realistically, he was just a man who wanted sex, but without his injection of confidence, I didn’t think I would’ve made it through the day.

Between Kane’s maroon sweatpants and Sulien’s oversized black shirt, I looked like I was prancing around campus in pajamas. If someone had told me last year that I’d show up to the first day of my sophomore year like this, I probably would’ve had a heart attack.

Appearances were everything to my family, and unfortunately, their vanity was one of the many qualities I’d inherited. Most mornings, I’d spend over an hour in front of the mirror, making sure every strand of hair was perfectly in place. If I didn’t look flawless, I felt like I didn’t deserve to bear the Voltaris name.

But today? I didn’t fit into that mold—and the world didn’t end.

Sure, my pulse needed to get the memo before I passed the fuck out, but I was alive. I was okay. My classmates’ thoughts weren’t exactly kind, but I couldn’t blame them. If someone else showed up thirty pounds heavier and visibly pregnant after disappearing for the entire summer, my thoughts would’ve been rude, too.

I kept my headphones in and my head down as I walked into Wearable Combat Systems. It was my last class of the day and the one I’d been looking forward to since last year. Valor University was famous for its heroes, but its tech program? Equally impressive, even if less well-known.

Last year, all my biomedical engineering classes heavily focused on theory. Wearable Combat Systems would be my first hands-on class and my first chance to experiment with actually making something. And I knew exactly what I wanted to create this semester.

Harsh fluorescent lights greeted me the second I stepped into the sterile, unforgiving, lab. The stainless-steel workbenches only amplified the glare, but I found a seat in the back, slipping onto a stool as I pulled out my notebook and tablet. The room filled quickly, but it felt noticeably emptier than all my other classes last year. Then again, this was a hard program, and Mom had warned me that most students dropped out before junior year.

But that wouldn’t be me. I couldn’t be one of the quitters. I had to prove myself. I needed to earn my family’s love again and show them they could be proud of me. Then maybe… just maybe, I could go home.

With about half the seats occupied, Dr. Langford strode into the room. Dressed in crisp black slacks and a white lab coat so starched it could’ve stood up on its own, she exuded an air of cold authority. A small Aegis Center pin gleamed on her lapel—a subtle reminder of her history with my family. Years ago, she’d been the top scientist in my family’s tech and pharmaceutical division, so of course, she’d be teaching this class. Luckily for me, she’d loved me when I was a kid. This class should be a piece of cake.

She marched straight to the whiteboard, grabbing a green marker as she passed her desk.

“Welcome to Wearable Combat Systems.” she began, her words sharp and confident. “As you already know, this course isn’t for the faint of heart. I don’t have high hopes for many—if any—of you to make it to the final.”

How could someone take a class and not make it to the final? That seemed like a ridiculous waste of time and effort. Even if you barely got a C, all you had to do was turn in your work and show up. Did people seriously not do that?

Her sharp blue eyes scanned the room, landing directly on me. I sat up straighter, pretending to scribble something in my notebook, though my brain was far from engaged. She held my gaze for a beat too long before addressing the class again.

“But if some of you do make it to the final, I want you to be prepared,” she continued, turning back to the board. I could still feel her gaze drilling into me. “By the end of the semester, you’ll need to create a unique form of wearable tech—something practical, innovative, and combat-ready. And starting next week, you’ll be paired with one of the heroes at the Aegis Center to test your designs.”

Her words hung in the air, the weight of the assignment sinking in. Paired with a hero?

A jolt of excitement shot through me. Most of the Aegis heroes were practically celebrities—celebrities I knew. This wasn’t just a classroom exercise; it was a real opportunity.

This was my chance to prove I wasn’t just a disappointment to my family. I could show them I was more than the pregnant teenager who’d fallen for a guy the world now called a terrorist.

The class buzzed with whispers and murmurs as students began debating who they might be paired with and brainstorming ideas for their tech. But I stayed quiet, keeping my head down, already sketching rough outlines of my project in the corner of my notebook.

My idea was ambitious, maybe even reckless, but if it worked, it could redefine what wearable combat tech could do. I wasn’t just here to pass the class—I needed this. If I could pull it off, I wouldn’t just prove myself to Dr. Langford or my family. I’d prove something to myself.

Dr. Langford’s voice snapped me back to attention. “This isn’t just an academic exercise. If you do well, your tech could become a genuine piece of the heroing world, which is exactly what I expect from one of you."

Her gaze narrowed on me, and the weight of the world fell onto my shoulders.

“Calista Voltaris.” She said with a curl of her lips.

Slowly, every set of eyes trained on me, causing me to duck my head. It felt like my heart was going to explode.

“I trust you’ll live up to the family name this semester,” she said calmly. “I'd be a disgrace if the spawn of Flora disappointed me.”