Chapter 16
Morgan didn’t remember collapsing onto the bed.
One moment she was standing in the garden, breath breaking in her throat, staring at the empty space where Kyrax had been.
The next, she was inside, half stumbling, half drifting, her pulse a frantic drumbeat under her skin.
She sank into the bed without thinking. The sheets drew around her like warm silk, but the comfort didn’t settle her. If anything, it magnified everything that should have calmed her.
Her chest felt too tight, and her breath came shallow, not from fear, but from something deeper—need rising in waves, fierce and bewildering.
Her thighs pressed together.
Her fingertips trembled.
Heat spread low in her belly, like a slow, burning tide.
Oh, god.
It was arousal.
No—something beyond arousal.
She had never felt anything so potent, so total. It was like being caught in the slipstream of her own heartbeat, dragged under by sensations she couldn’t outrun.
Is this his venom?
She clutched the sheets, nails digging into the fabric. She couldn’t think. Every thought fractured under a surge of heat and ache and restlessness. Her body moved of its own accord, hips shifting, breath hitching.
Her pulse stuttered. She bit down on her lip, trying to steady herself, but the moment she imagined his voice—Come—the sensation tore through her again, so overwhelming she almost cried out.
She felt drunk, drugged, and yet hyper-aware of her own body in a way that bordered on unbearable.
She squeezed her eyes shut. No. Don’t give in. Don’t—
The door slid open.
Morgan jerked upright, clutching the sheets to her chest.
Raeska entered with the same serene, gliding steps as always, but her eyes widened slightly.
“Morgan of Earth,” she said softly, the translator echoing her voice. “You are unwell.”
Morgan shook her head quickly. “No—yes—I don’t know.” Her voice broke. “Something’s happening to me. I feel—” Shame and desperation twisted together. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Raeska approached the bed slowly, as if Morgan were a wounded creature. She reached out, but did not touch her—only studied her with a quiet, knowing calm.
“It has begun,” Raeska murmured.
“‘It?’” Morgan whispered. “What does that mean? What has begun?”
Raeska’s expression softened in a way Morgan hadn’t yet seen.
“The change. The resonance between you and our Vykan. It is rare, but with a Vykan of his potency, the response is predictable.”
Morgan’s heart lurched. “This is because of him? Because he—because he breathed on me?”
“Yes.”
Morgan trembled. “I feel like I’m burning.”
“You are adjusting to his venom,” Raeska replied. “It is potent for all species. Even the Saelori. For a human—it is overwhelming at first.”
Morgan swallowed hard. “Will it kill me?”
“No,” Raeska said. “You will survive. You have already proven your strength by standing in his presence. And you are his now. His venom recognizes you.”
Morgan pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. “This is insane.”
“Perhaps,” Raeska conceded, tilting her head. “But it is truth.”
Morgan drew a shaky breath. “Tell me everything. Please.”
Raeska lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, her movements precise and gentle.
“The Saelori bond in three ways—physical, psychic, and pheromonal. The Vykan have these traits in a rarer, more potent form. Their venom marks, transforms, and connects. It will heighten your senses. Strengthen your emotions. It may attune your body to his presence.”
Morgan stared, wide-eyed. “Attune?”
“Yes.” Raeska’s voice was soft, certain. “You will feel him, even at a distance. His state of mind. His approach. His need. Eventually, the venom’s effects will lessen, because your body will adapt. You will become the one being in the universe who can withstand his full presence.”
Morgan’s pulse thundered in her throat. “There will be other changes?”
“Many.”
Morgan let out a shaky exhale. “Will I lose myself?”
Raeska studied her with unusual intensity. “You have already shown a remarkable will. You crossed the stars alone, endured fear, faced a Vykan without collapsing, and held your ground. Strength lives in you, Morgan of Earth. You will endure.”
Morgan swallowed, throat tightening unexpectedly. “Can I ask you something? About you.”
Raeska inclined her head. “Ask.”
“Have you been bonded?”
“Yes,” Raeska answered simply. “But to one equal to me. A Saelori, not a Vykan.”
Morgan frowned. “Why not a Vykan? If they’re Saelori too?”
Raeska’s voice lowered. “The Vykan are… changed. A divergence born of necessity. Their venom is lethal to most species. To Saelori, it isn’t deadly, but it is sedating and overwhelming. They cannot imprint on us. Only on those who can withstand them.”
Morgan stared. “So the mask… he wears that to protect you?”
Raeska nodded. “In part. And to protect others. A Vykan’s breath, when unrestrained, can incapacitate entire rooms. The mask governs the release.”
Morgan shivered. “And he let it out near me.”
“He did,” Raeska confirmed gently. “It is a sign of trust. And a test.”
Before Morgan could respond, her stomach growled—loud, startling, almost painful.
She flushed. “I—I’m sorry.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Raeska said with a faint smile. “The hunger is expected. Your body is altering itself.”
Raeska summoned another attendant. Within moments, a tray arrived—larger than the last one.
Fragrant meats glistened in a rich glaze.
Soft, steaming grains nestled beside spiced vegetables.
Thick, airy bread gleamed with a sheen of something savory and herbal.
Fresh herbs scattered across the plates, their aroma sharp and refreshing. And a cup of that warm, calming tea.
Morgan didn’t wait for permission. She ate with a hunger that startled her—bite after bite, flavors bursting on her tongue. The bread melted like butter. The meat was tender, almost sweet. The vegetables snapped beneath her teeth with perfect freshness.
With every mouthful, her strength returned.
Her senses sharpened.
The room gained clarity.
Her breathing steadied.
By the time the tray was empty, the desperate ache had softened into a humming undercurrent of awareness.
Raeska left quietly, bowing before departing through the stone archway.
Morgan sat back against the cushions, placing a hand to her chest.
It was there.
That pressure she’d felt in the garden.
That invisible pull.
It curled through her now—faint, warm, unmistakable.
She felt him. Distant, but unmistakably there.
Her pulse quickened, and something in her answered, although she wasn’t sure she wanted it to.
I can sense him.
The realization spread through her like wildfire.
And she didn’t know whether to fear it…
Or crave it.