The blistering heat of his breath ghosted across her neck. The predatory gleam of his fangs was the only sharp light in the dim, red glow of the alarm.
Anastasia didn't scream. She didn't struggle. Her heart rate remained as steady as a metronome. The monomolecular blade in her right hand was perfectly positioned, aimed at the fatal nerve cluster in his abdomen.
If his teeth so much as grazed her skin, she would sever his central nervous system without a second thought.
But he didn't bite.
A strangled, agonized groan ripped from his chest, and he violently twisted his head away.
He opened his mouth and sank his fangs deep into his own forearm.
The sharp teeth tore through the tough fabric of his uniform and into the flesh beneath. The scent of fresh, hot blood filled the air, coppery and thick.
The searing pain was a bucket of ice water on his burning soul. It bought him a precious moment of clarity. The feral red in his eyes receded, replaced by a wave of profound self-loathing.
He tried to push himself up, to get off of her, but the violent hormonal surges left his muscles spasming and weak.
Anastasia watched the deep, ragged wound on his arm well up with blood. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed her face. She hadn't expected a beast on the brink to possess such terrifying self-control.
Silently, she retracted the blade.
She made a bold decision.
She reached up with both hands and placed them firmly on his trembling shoulders.
"Don't move," she said, her voice calm, soothing, and utterly non-negotiable. "You'll hurt yourself."
Her touch, the warmth and strength in her hands, was the final straw. It was the one thing his frayed willpower could not withstand.
A savage roar exploded from him. With a surge of raw, untamed power, he threw his arms back.
CRACK!
The high-tensile alloy shackles, bolted directly into the wall, were ripped from their moorings. The sound was like a thunderclap in the enclosed space.
The broken chains whipped through the air with a vicious hiss, smashing into the titanium wall and leaving a deep dent.
The sheer force of the explosion of power made Anastasia flinch. She mentally recalibrated her assessment of this dimension's top-tier combat strength.
But the newly freed Evander didn't attack. He scrambled away from her as if he'd been burned, retreating to the farthest corner of the chamber.
He curled into a ball in the shadows, his hands clamped over his head. His wolf ears drooped, and his tail wrapped tightly around his body in a posture of extreme, defensive misery.
"Don't come near me... please..." His voice was a broken, shredded whisper, laced with a pathetic hint of a plea.
Anastasia got to her feet, brushing nonexistent dust from her clothes. She looked at the magnificent, powerful man cowering in the corner, and a strange sense of control bloomed in her chest.
She ignored his plea.
She walked over to the overturned metal table, her eyes scanning the wreckage.
From the corner, Evander watched her through his fingers. He fought back the storm in his head and stumbled toward a hidden panel in the wall.
He pressed his bloody fingers against the scanner. A green light flashed. A small, refrigerated safe clicked open, revealing several vials of a glowing, viscous blue liquid.
SSS-grade high-purity nutrient serum. A military-exclusive cocktail of pure, concentrated energy. This wasn't an inhibitor-it wouldn't do a damn thing for his heat-but it was pure energy.
He fumbled for two vials, his hand shaking violently. With a desperate shove, he sent them skittering across the floor toward her.
"Drink it," he commanded, his voice ragged and rushed. "Replenish your energy. Then close your eyes. And don't make a sound."
Having done this, he seemed to collapse, slumping to the floor beside the open safe. He gasped for air, his eyes fixed on the ground, refusing to look at her.
Anastasia bent down and picked up the two cold glass tubes. Blue's analysis flashed in her mind: High-purity biomass energy. Minor beneficial effects for host's genetic repair.
She raised an eyebrow. She hadn't expected such a primitive-looking world to have this level of energy purification technology.
To show she was no threat, she looked directly at him, bit off the cap with a crisp snap, and tilted her head back, downing the entire vial in one go.
A single drop of the glowing blue liquid traced a path down her pale throat. In the dim red light, the image was sinfully alluring.
Evander's head snapped up, his eyes catching the movement. His throat worked, a dry, hard swallow. He immediately slammed his eyes shut and punched himself, hard, in the side of his head.
