CHAPTER 5

Kitty cat

The sterile hallway felt like it was closing in, the fluorescent lights humming with an intensity that made Aelin’s head throb. Zyran’s boots echoed against the linoleum, a sharp, rhythmic sound that cut through the haze of her panic. He didn't care about the cameras or the officials staring from behind glass partitions; his only focus was the trembling woman in his arms.

"Don't let them... don't let them take me back," Aelin whispered, her breath coming in short, feverish gasps against his neck. Her skin was radiating a heat so intense it felt like it was soaking through his leather jacket.

"Not a chance," Zyran growled, his jaw set in a grim line. "They’ve done enough to you for one day."

As they reached the heavy glass doors of the main entrance, two security guards stepped into their path. "Mr. Zyran, the evaluation isn't complete," one of them stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "The candidate needs to be returned to the medical wing for stabilization."

Zyran didn't stop. His wolf ears pinned back flat against his white hair, and his eyes flashed with a predatory, icy blue light. "Step aside," he rumbled, a low-frequency Alpha command vibrating in his chest. "Before I decide that 'stabilization' starts with me breaking your ribs."

The guards recoiled under the weight of his dominance, stepping back as Zyran pushed through the doors into the cool evening air. In her drugged state, Aelin looked up at him, her eyes glassy. "Where are you taking me, handsome?"

Zyran's arms tightened reflexively, his grip becoming more supportive as he felt her weight settle. The endearing term made his wolf ears twitch with amusement despite the stakes.

"Easy there, tiger," he murmured against her hair. "I'm taking you to my place. It’s private, secure, and nobody's going to bother us there."

His boots crunched against the pavement as he reached his motorcycle. He set her carefully on the pillion seat, but Aelin began to fuss at her clothes. "The dress is too tight... it’s too hot," she complained, shifting uncomfortably. The government-issued attire was clearly making her body temperature spike along with the induced heat symptoms.

Zyran paused, abandoning his helmet for a moment. He reached back and tugged sharply at the zipper running down her spine. The fabric parted with a soft hiss, allowing the breeze to touch her overheated skin. He worked the dress off her shoulders enough to expose her collarbones.

"There," Zyran muttered gruffly. "Better?"

Aelin let out a dazed giggle, looking at the grey tufts of fur on his head. "Are you a cat? Your ears are cute."

A low chuckle escaped his throat. "You're not wrong," he admitted with a smirk, giving one ear a self-conscious scratch. "They've got better hearing than my human ears do right now."

He helped her secure her helmet before sliding on his own. "Alright, hang on tight," he instructed, revving the engine until the deep roar vibrated through both their bodies.

As they pulled away, Aelin relaxed into his back, her arms wrapping tentatively around his waist. The motion of the bike began to lull her drugged mind.

"Good girl," Zyran murmured against the wind, his voice barely audible over the engine's growl. He briefly covered her hand with his, a firm pressure meant to reassure her. "Just relax into me. I've got you."

His wolf ears swiveled backward occasionally, tracking her position. As they hit the open highway, he opened the throttle. The increased speed pressed her more securely against him, her body molding to his back as they left the city lights behind.

---

The Cooling Storm;

"Let me go... kitty... I want a bath. It’s hot, hot... and you are also hot," Aelin pleaded, her voice a desperate, feverish whisper that strained against the roar of the wind.

Zyran’s grip on the handlebars tightened instantly. The nickname "kitty" combined with her frantic request for a bath sent a jolt of possessive instinct straight through him. His wolf ears pinned back against his skull as he accelerated, weaving through the late-night traffic with practiced, aggressive ease.

"No fucking chance," he growled into the wind, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're not taking a damn bath alone when you're this far gone."

Within minutes, the city lights faded into the shadow of a dense forest line. He pulled into the driveway of a modern, secluded house that stood like a fortress against the trees. He cut the engine, bringing a sudden, heavy silence to the air, broken only by their ragged breathing.

"I'm carrying you inside," Zyran announced as he dismounted. Before she could even think about protesting, he reached back and lifted her off the bike in one fluid motion. "And yes, I'm helping you bathe whether you like it or not."

"Let me go..." she whimpered, hesitating like a frightened child.

Zyran’s grip didn't loosen in the slightest. Instead, he adjusted his hold, lifting her higher against his chest as he strode purposefully toward the front door. He kicked the heavy wooden door shut behind them, the lock clicking into place with a finality that echoed through the sleek, minimalist interior.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but 'no' isn't an option right now," he said firmly, his voice echoing off the polished concrete floors. "Your body is screaming to cool down, and I'm not letting you burn yourself out trying to manage this alone."

He carried her through the spacious living area, past the scent of leather and the faint, musky tang of an Alpha at rest. Every step he took was calculated, his movements steady despite the way her heat was beginning to cloud his own senses.

"The bathroom's this way," he muttered, turning down a wide hallway.

"Don't drown me... I can't swim..." she whispered, her fingers clutching his shirt with a sudden, genuine terror.

Zyran’s steps faltered mid-stride. He stopped at the edge of his king-sized bed and set her down gently. He knelt in front of her, forcing her to meet his gaze. His expression softened, the jagged edges of his temper smoothing out as he saw the way she hugged herself instinctively.

"Hey, breathe," he said calmly, letting his Alpha presence fill the room like a grounding weight. "I would never put you underwater. You think I'd let my mate drown?"

The word slipped out unintentionally, a raw instinct surfacing from his wolf DNA. Zyran didn't correct himself; his mind was already treating her as territory to be protected, regardless of the government contract that bound them.

"You're safe here," he continued, his voice dropping to a steady, gravelly hum. "The shower has steps built in. You won't even have to stand up if you don't want to. I'm just going to get the fever down, Aelin. That’s it."

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