CHAPTER 7
NOVA
I float in tingling warmth. Sweet relief floods my veins.
It’s as heady as any drug I’ve ever tried, but I trust Zyren when he says it won’t kill me.
When I wake again, I kind of wish it had.
Every dull pain has sharpened, stabbing and crackling. My pelvis throbs with agony, as if ghostly hands are twisting it apart. The pain drags me from sleep and yet won’t let me fully wake, and I can’t tell where I am.
I panic, disoriented, struggling against something hot and heavy that wraps around me.
“You’re alright, Nova.”
My body stills. Zyren’s voice seems to come from every direction at once, as if it’s not just reaching my ears, but also my mind.
I remember his strange, sadistic promise.
Every time you hurt, you hurt for me.
Oddly, it soothes me. My animal brain calms as I remind it that this pain is excruciating, but it won’t kill me. I’m not in any active danger.
I’m leaning against Zyren’s chest, with his steady breath and pulse under my ear. My heart and lungs so easily sync with his. It’s strange, this sense that even my breath isn’t my own, but I welcome it.
I’m so weary of trying. So weary of self-regulating, self-coaching, self-control.
So ready to hand over the reins to someone, anyone.
“We’re near my home,” Zyren says quietly. “I’ve brought you to a hot spring to help ease the come-down.”
I lift my head and blink at the brightness as my eyes leave Zyren’s shadow.
We’re not in Sherexis anymore.
A craggy mountainside of ruddy gray rock unfolds on one side, and steaming water pours down a series of pools, filling the air with a gentle rushing sound.
On the other side, twisting trees with bristling teal needles provide some shade, quickly becoming denser as they descend the mountain, interlocking and rejoining the sprawling forest, which ripples in waves of turquoise and crimson off to the far horizon.
Ahead, the mountain range rises and curls around, turning misty as it nuzzles under the edge of the forest like a slumbering wolf.
I expect Zyren to lower me to my feet, but instead, he steps down into the water of the hot spring. He adjusts me carefully so just my toes dip in, and he waits for my sigh of pleasure before proceeding further.
He continues to slowly lower me, somehow anticipating exactly what I need. Each correction—a slight lift, an adjustment in angle—is already happening before I even notice my discomfort.
My weight floats from his arms as the water reaches my neck, and I sigh as the soothing warmth fills me.
Zyren seems to relax as he settles down at my side.
“Has heat always soothed your symptoms?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. It helps a lot. But you can only spend so much of your life in a hot bath.”
Zyren tilts his head. “Why?”
I blink. “Well, I had work to do before… but also, humans aren’t aquatic creatures. I dunno, I’d get all shriveled up and pruny or something.”
Zyren chuckles. “Well, you can spend as much time here as you want.”
“I appreciate it. I won’t trouble you too much; you’ve got your other patients, and—”
His firm grip lands on my chin, tilting my eyes toward his intense gaze.
My breath catches in my lungs, heat rippling in my chest.
“You are the only patient who matters,” he says in a tone that allows no debate.
Still, I’m stubborn. “But what—”
His voice pitches lower. “Do not defy me, Nova. You will not like the consequences.”
My eyes unfocus and I melt into his grip. His touch gentles, and his arms surround me, pulling my head against his chest as I float in the water.
Some part of my brain protests quietly, if only because I’ve never been so quickly undone. I’d no idea that there were such pressure points in my personality that, if triggered precisely, could so easily reduce me to this sighing softness.
“Can you read my mind or something?” I murmur against his chest.
His fingers thread through my hair, gently rinsing the spring water through it.
“I can, in a sense. I can attune to the consciousness energy of others. This mostly communicates physical sensations and general emotional state, but if the connection is met willingly… sometimes more complex concepts are also communicated.”
I’m not sure if that’s a relief or a reason to be very, very wary. Better to keep him talking while he’s in a mood to share, and I’ll figure out what to do with this information later.
“Why not offer your venom upfront, if you knew it would take away the pain without hurting me? As far as come-downs go, this isn’t so bad—”
Searing, mind-breaking pain tears through me. My voice comes out in whimpered sobs, and my muscles tense desperately, forgetting how to orient in the water.
Before I can gasp in a lungful of water, Zyren steadies me, keeping my head pressed to his chest. It rises and falls under my cheek, and even as the pain overwhelms my conscious mind, my lungs obey him, taking deep breaths.
The searing gradually fades, returning to my usual ache, which the warmth eases.
“Is that the worst of it?” I ask quietly.
“That’s the beginning of it.”
“Shit.”
Zyren’s voice is steady, but I notice the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow.
I raise my fingers to his face. “You can feel it too?”
“Some of it,” he says, offering a wry smile. “Your consciousness is very strong.”
Horror ripples through me. “I’m torturing y—”
His grip, hot from the water, closes over my whole face. “Shh. Enough of that.”
My thoughts soften and dissolve.
“Don’t worry about me,” he commands.
I float there for a few precious minutes until the next wave of pain tears through me. Zyren keeps me breathing. It’s enough for me to find the mantra that always gets me through the worst of it.
This will pass. This will pass. This will pass.
When it eases, I look for a topic to distract my mind from anticipating the next terrible wave.
“You really aren’t like any ICSS doctors, I’ll give you that.”
“Oh?”
“None of them have fingered me to climax, so…”
He lets out an amused exhale. “Ah.”
“And look, I… I know why you can only help me so much with the pain. I know it’s all in my head. So you don’t have to find some delicate way to say that.”
“All in your head? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” His expression is as serious as his tone.
“Maybe it didn’t translate. I just mean… like, nerve sensitization. Expectations. It’s a… psychiatric problem. I get it.”
Zyren only looks more incredulous. “That’s what they’ve been telling you? The ICSS doctors?”
I suddenly shrink, hesitant. “Some of them.”
Zyren clicks his tongue. “It’s not all in your head.”
My voice is oddly meek. “Well, but most pain is created in the brain…”
“You might as well say that hunger is all in your head or vision is all in your head at that point. Of course the brain is highly involved—it’s highly involved in everything.
You have a nervous system injury. Think of it like how scar tissue can interfere with joint movement.
Just because it’s chronic doesn’t mean it’s not real. ”
“Huh. So you mean to tell me I didn’t invent the pain because I love taking painkillers so much?”
Anger glints behind Zyren’s eyes. “What a preposterous suggestion.”
“Yeah, I was always a little skeptical of that one.”
Zyren suddenly grips my chin again, and my body goes still.
“You’re going to take this so well for me,” he purrs.
While heat still crackles in my veins, the next wave of violent pain hits me. But this time, it doesn’t pull my mind under. My eyes stay fixed on Zyren’s as my entire focus goes to matching his breathing, to letting the pain move through me.
When it finally fades, Zyren doesn’t release me.
I’m grateful for it. My entire nervous system feels raw, vulnerable. My brow furrows as I struggle to comprehend what’s happening.
“Why is it so much easier to take it when I imagine you’re doing it to me?” I only realize I spoke the words aloud when Zyren answers.
“Because then it has purpose. It becomes a challenge to surmount, with praise and adoration on the other side.” His grip gentles, stroking my cheek.
My breath shudders. “Praise and adoration?” Tears well in my eyes, and I quickly scrub them away. “S-sorry, I promise I’m not usually like this…”
Zyren’s firm grip circles my wrists, placing my hands back into the water. Then his soft touch replaces my scrubbing, brushing the tears away.
“You will become much more like this,” he says quietly, certainly.
Anxiety bubbles in my chest. “I feel like a hormonal mess…”
Zyren’s thumb traces my lip. “Yes. You’ll adapt.”
“To… to what?”
“To feeling what you feel. To hiding nothing from me. To trusting me.”
Fear spikes through me at the vulnerability those words imply.
“Shhh.” Zyren’s thumb slides between my lips, pressing against my tongue.
My head goes fuzzy.
“You will whine and complain and mew when it hurts,” Zyren says with that same certainty. “You will give me not a moment’s rest unless you’re totally content.”
My deep survival instincts recoil warily. There’s a reason I learned to hide my pain—it’s not safe to show. It marks me as dysfunctional. A burden.
Zyren slides his thumb further back, and my thoughts scatter.
“You take directions so well, Nova. Now… breathe.”
This wave of pain is excruciating, but it’s not as bad as the others. I’m locked in Zyren’s command, breathing along with him.
When it fades, I curl into his chest. “How do you know before they come?”
“Your chemistry changes slightly. I can smell it.”
“What… else can you smell?”
“How much it arouses you when I put my fingers in your mouth.”
I blush. “I don’t know if it makes me aroused—”
Zyren presses his thumb deep against my tongue.
My cunt clenches and flutters.
Oh.
He taps my nose in gentle reprimand as he pulls his finger out of my mouth. “What did I tell you about defying me, Nova?”
Every time he says my name, close enough to its true pronunciation that my neural implant doesn’t activate, so I hear the real tones of his voice…
It’s a spell spoken over me, winding tighter and tighter.
It’s the first taste of a new drug, and I know I’ll be hooked for life, except the drug is Zyren himself.