Chapter 222: Pulse, Poison, And Power Games

Sunlight poured through the villa’s floor-to-ceiling windows, warm and insistent against Kane’s closed eyelids.

The mattress beneath him felt expensive—silk sheets cool against his skin, memory foam cradling his body like a cloud.

Paradise.

Except Kane woke up furious.

His amber eyes snapped open, immediately seeking the familiar figure who should be perched at the bedside, radiating worry and overprotective intensity.

Empty.

The chair sat vacant. No coffee cup steaming on the nightstand. No Cyrus hovering like Kane was made of glass.

Kane shoved himself upright, ignoring the faint throb behind his temples.

Collapsed again. Again.

Right when he’d been seconds away from discovering what Cyrus sealed behind those wards—what secret was important enough to lock away with ancient draconic magic on an isolated island.

His tails lashed against the sheets, silver fur bristling.

Two fainting spells in as many days. Like a delicate Victorian maiden who couldn’t handle excitement.

Kane swung his legs off the bed, bare feet hitting cool tile.

The villa stretched quiet around him—no sounds from the kitchen, no shower running, no crimson energy signature bleeding through the walls.

"Cyrus?" His voice came out rougher than intended.

Silence.

Kane crossed to the balcony doors, sliding them open with more force than necessary.

Ocean breeze hit his face, carrying salt and tropical flowers.

The view remained stunning—turquoise water, volcanic cliffs, and that vine covered cave entrance visible in the distance.

Still no dragon.

Kane’s fingers drummed against the balcony railing.

Where would Cyrus go without waking him?

The villa felt too quiet and empty.

Kane turned back inside, scanning the bedroom with sharper focus. His gaze landed on the obsidian egg case resting on its reinforced stand near the window.

At least the egg was still here.

The case pulsed with faint crimson light—steady, reassuring. Whatever else Cyrus was hiding, he hadn’t abandoned their unhatched responsibility.

Kane crossed to the nightstand, grabbing his phone from where it had been charging.

Three missed calls from Ginsei. A string of complaint texts about paperwork.

And one message from Rina, timestamped two hours ago:

Rina:Hey. Random question—have you been feeling any strange discomfort recently?

Kane’s fingers froze over the phone screen.

How could Rina possibly know about the headaches? The fainting spells?

The headaches came right after his flight from Feilun; nobody knows about this except Cyrus, and Cyrus wouldn’t break that confidence. Not even to Isabelle.

Kane typed quickly:

Kane:Yeah, actually. Some weird headaches. Why?

The response came almost immediately.

Rina:Don’t panic, but I need you to answer carefully. Do you remember those enhanced rats you asked me to autopsy?

Kane’s stomach dropped.

Those rat spirits had died suddenly in BSA containment—all of them, within hours of each other.

Unexplained. Simultaneous organ failure across six specimens with identical augmentations.

He typed faster:

Kane:The ones from Hoshino’s shop? Yeah. What about them?

Rina:The synthetic binding agent in their systems started breaking down post-mortem. Cellular degradation accelerated by foreign compounds rejecting host biology.

Rina:Kane, you were injected with Screaming Shard essence. Same base compound as the rats, just higher concentration.

Kane’s headache flared, sharp and immediate behind his eyes.

The phone nearly slipped from his hand.

Kane:Are you saying I’m dying?

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Kane’s chest tightened with each passing second.

Rina:I’m just saying I need you to drop by when you can. Run some tests. Just to be safe.

Not a denial. Not reassurance. It was simply a clinical necessity, encapsulated in precise wording.

Kane’s fingers trembled as he typed:

Kane: Ooooh, well.I’m not in town these days. I have taken an extended leave.

Rina:What? You never take leave. Where are you?

Kane:Island vacation. With Cyrus.

The response came faster this time:

Rina:Which island? And for how long?

Kane stared at the turquoise water beyond the balcony, volcanic cliffs rising like ancient sentinels.

Kane:Not sure when we’ll be back.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Rina:Kane, this is important. The compound degrades differently depending on spirit physiology, but there’s a pattern. Enhanced subjects show symptoms within weeks of injection.

Rina:Headaches. Dizzy spells. Energy fluctuations.

Kane’s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles went white.

Every symptom she listed matched perfectly.

Rina:I’m worried about myself too. We both need monitoring. If the compound starts breaking down—

Just then, the bedroom door opened.

Cyrus stepped through, phone pressed to his ear, his expression neutral as he murmured something in rapid Mandarin.

Kane’s hand moved on instinct—the phone screen flipped against his thigh, hiding Rina’s messages from view.

Cyrus’s crimson gaze found Kane immediately, a flash of relief crossing his features before he schooled them back to composure.

"Understood. Wire the funds by Friday." Cyrus ended the call, slipping his phone into his linen shirt pocket. "Just went out to take a business call."

Kane’s heart hammered against his ribs.

"Glad you’re awake." Cyrus crossed the room, movements fluid despite the obvious tension in his shoulders. "How’s your head?"

"Fine." The lie tasted bitter.

Cyrus stopped at the foot of the bed, studying Kane with that infuriating draconic intensity that saw through walls.

"You look pale."

"I’m always pale." Kane forced his expression into something approximating annoyed amusement. "Surprised you never noticed."

His phone buzzed against his leg—Rina’s response vibrating insistently.

Kane didn’t move, but his eyes darted to his phone.

Cyrus’s eyes narrowed fractionally. "Who’s texting you?"

"Ginsei. Complaining about paperwork." Another lie, smoother this time. "Same as always."

The phone buzzed again.

Then again.

Cyrus tilted his head, crimson eyes tracking the barely perceptible movement of Kane’s hand pressing harder against his thigh.

"Must be important." Cyrus’s voice dropped lower. "Three messages in ten seconds."

Kane’s tails twitched despite his best effort at stillness.

"He’s dramatic. You know how he gets."

Cyrus took a step closer.

Kane’s phone buzzed a fourth time.

Cyrus’s expression shifted—not quite suspicion, but something sharper than casual curiosity.

"Show me."

"It’s just Ginsei being—"

"Show me the phone, Kane."

The command hit differently than Cyrus’s usual overprotective demands.

Kane’s fingers tightened around the device.

"It’s private."

"Private." Cyrus repeated the word like it tasted wrong. "What’s so private that you have to hide from me?"

The crimson energy around Cyrus flickered—not threatening, but present. A reminder of exactly what stood across from Kane.

"I’m not hiding—"

"Then what are you doing?"

Kane’s jaw clenched.

The phone buzzed again.

"Last chance." Cyrus extended his hand, palm up. "Give me the phone, or I’ll take it."

Kane’s tails lashed.

"You wouldn’t dare."

Cyrus’s smile held no warmth.

"Try me."