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.

The energy from the SSS-grade serum detonated inside Anastasia's body like a small star. The sheer potency was far beyond what Blue had estimated.

A searing heat coursed through her limbs. Her normally pale skin flushed with an unnatural, feverish red.

ENERGY OVERLOAD, Blue's warning flashed urgently in her mind. HOST'S CURRENT PHYSIOLOGY CANNOT FULLY METABOLIZE. INITIATING FORCED HIBERNATION AND ABSORPTION PROTOCOL.

Damn it, Anastasia cursed internally. A wave of exhaustion, heavy and absolute, crashed over her. Her legs gave out, and she pitched forward.

Evander, who had been watching her from the corner of his eye, felt his heart seize. He moved like a phantom, a blur of motion, crossing the room in an instant.

He caught her just before her head could hit the unforgiving alloy floor, scooping her up into his arms.

The moment her soft, pliant body was in his embrace, every muscle in his body went rigid. He stopped breathing.

She was already unconscious. Her head lolled against his broad, hard chest, her warm breath seeping through the fabric of his uniform.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. She felt as light as a feather, as fragile as spun glass. He was terrified that the slightest pressure would break her.

He tightened his arms, his movements impossibly gentle for a man of his size and power.

There was no bed in the isolation chamber. Evander scanned the stark room, his eyes landing on the large, padded mat he used for meditation.

He carried her over, knelt on one knee, and slowly, carefully, laid her down. He lingered for a moment, his large, warm hand still cradling her head to ensure she was settled comfortably on the mat.

He didn't leave. He sat down beside the mat, cross-legged, a silent, unmoving sentinel.

And then, something miraculous happened.

As Anastasia's breathing evened out, a faint, almost imperceptible scent began to emanate from her. It was a pure, sweet, and incredibly soothing aroma, like a cool rain after a long drought.

It washed over Evander, and the raging fire of his heat cycle, a condition that the Empire's best doctors had been unable to manage, was simply... extinguished.

He stared in disbelief. The years of torment, the constant battle for control, the agonizing pain-it was all gone.

His wolf ears twitched, no longer flattened in misery but relaxed and comfortable. His tail, which had been coiled in a knot of tension, unfurled and began to sweep gently back and forth across the floor.

He gazed at Anastasia's sleeping face. The fear and desperation in his eyes slowly melted away, replaced by a deep, profound fascination.

He reached out a rough, calloused finger, wanting to touch her cheek, to feel if she was real. But he stopped, a half-inch from her skin, afraid to wake her.

I am a soldier, he told himself, a desperate attempt to frame his feelings in the familiar logic of duty. My duty is to protect the weak.

But it was a lie, and he knew it. In this brutal, predatory Empire, a high-grade Omega was the most valuable resource, a prize that the most powerful Alphas would kill for.

If she walked out of this room, she would be devoured by the greedy hyenas of the royal court and the powerful clans.

A savage, unprecedented wave of possessiveness took root in his soul. His wolfish eyes glowed with a feral green light in the darkness.

He would not give her to anyone.

She was his. His salvation. A treasure delivered by the gods directly into his territory.

He made a vow. When she woke up, he would use the full might of the First Fleet's intelligence network to discover who she was, where she came from. He would solve all her problems.

And no matter what he found, he would make her his Primary Consort. His one and only.

To ensure her absolute safety, he activated his personal star-brain and issued a new directive to the chamber's AI.

"Override all access. Highest priority silent-protocol. If anyone other than me attempts to open this door, initiate self-destruct sequence." He recorded the command in a voice of ice and steel.

With that done, he turned his gaze back to Anastasia. He couldn't bring himself to close his eyes, terrified that if he did, he would wake up and find this was all just a fever dream.

As the night deepened, the most feared Admiral in the Empire became the most loyal watchdog, standing guard over a stranger's sleep.

Ten hours later, Anastasia's eyes snapped open. The energy from the serum had been fully absorbed. A sharp, predatory light gleamed in their depths.

She sat up in a single, silent motion. Her body felt impossibly light, powerful. She felt like she could punch a hole straight through the titanium wall.

She immediately noticed the absence of the large, brooding figure who had been guarding her. The air held only the faint, lingering scent of cold pine and snow.

HOST'S PHYSICAL FUNCTIONS RESTORED TO 120% OF PEAK CONDITION, Blue's interface appeared in her vision. CURRENT ZONE IS SECURE. TARGET INDIVIDUAL DEPARTED TWO HOURS AGO.

Anastasia's gaze fell on a silver, insulated food container placed neatly beside the mat. On top of it was an electronic note bearing a military crest.

She picked it up. Evander's handwriting was strong and decisive.

I have been summoned to headquarters for an urgent military briefing. The food is in the container. It is absolutely safe. Wait for me to return. I will handle everything.

Anastasia's lips curved into a cold, mocking smile at the last sentence. I will handle everything. As if she were a pet to be managed.

She opened the container. Inside was a meticulously prepared nutrient-rich meal and a glass of warm, sweet milk. She ate quickly and efficiently, replenishing her carbohydrates.

Finished, she stood up. It was time to leave. She needed to gather intelligence on this world and find more clues about the longevity gene.

She walked to the massive chamber door.

WARNING, T518's mechanical voice chirped. COMMANDER HAS ISSUED A HIGHEST-LEVEL SILENT DIRECTIVE. ACCESS DENIED. ANY ATTEMPT TO FORCE ENTRY WILL INITIATE SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE.

Anastasia raised an eyebrow. "Blue, how long to take control of this antique?"

Blue's light pulsed once. CRACKING LOW-DIMENSION SECURITY SYSTEM. ESTIMATED TIME: 3.5 SECONDS.

Less than four seconds later, T518's red alarm light switched to a soft, welcoming green. Its voice, now sycophantic, purred, YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, HIGHEST AUTHORITY.

Anastasia snapped her fingers in satisfaction. The door slid open without a sound, revealing an empty military corridor.

To avoid surveillance, she materialized a dark gray tactical cloak from her system space. It was woven with optical camouflage fibers.

She draped it over her shoulders, the large hood completely obscuring her stunning face, leaving only the sharp, determined line of her chin visible.

Anticipating that the military might use scent-tracking beasts, she had Blue release a neutralizing agent, completely masking the faint, Omega-like scent she projected.

She moved like a ghost through the Admiral's residence, using the real-time surveillance map provided by Blue to slip through the blind spots of every patrolling mechanical guard.

She reached a service exit where several hovercrafts used for transporting supplies were parked.

She expertly pried open a maintenance hatch on the underbelly of one vehicle and slipped inside, concealing herself within the complex chassis.

Ten minutes later, a logistics officer drove the hovercraft out of the heavily fortified residence, passing through multiple security checkpoints without a single alarm.

The vehicle merged into the bustling sky-lanes of the Imperial Capital, a sprawling metropolis of cyberpunk towers and brutalist architecture.

From her hiding spot, Anastasia watched the alien city through a micro-probe.

When the hovercraft slowed for a traffic light, she made her move. She dropped silently from the chassis, landing behind a massive holographic billboard.

She slid down a maintenance ladder and melted into the throng of people on the street below.

The crowd was a chaotic mix of semi-humanoids. Some had feline ears, others had patches of scales on their skin. Anastasia pulled her hood lower, becoming just another shadow in the urban jungle.

To completely sever any chance of being tracked, she had Blue send several false location pings to the military network, flooding their system with junk data.

HOST, WE CURRENTLY LACK LOCAL CURRENCY AND IDENTIFICATION, Blue advised. IT IS RECOMMENDED TO PROCEED TO AN AREA WITH MINIMAL SURVEILLANCE TO ACQUIRE INTELLIGENCE.

Anastasia looked up, her gaze drawn to the deepest, darkest part of the city-a chaotic tangle of neon lights, filth, and violence.

"The Abyss," she murmured, reading the flickering sign. "Perfect."

She turned and walked toward the darkness.