"You do know this is madness," Roman said wryly, watching as Asher drew a small amount of his venom into a syringe.
"It’s called mithridatism," Asher answered with sass. "A very solid backup plan." Without hesitation, he jabbed the needle into his arm and pushed the plunger.
Roman flinched as if he too felt the sting. "I might not know all your science crap, but I do know how my venom works, mister. And all I can tell you is that you’re taking a huge risk here."
He watched with mounting anxiety as Asher leaned back on the bed with a groan, his breath hitching as his heartbeat began to race.
Roman’s venom paralyzes upon contact, but when ingested into the body, it followed a predictable timeline:
For the first five minutes, one would experience a burning sensation, rapid heartbeat, and intense dizziness.
Then the Five to fifteen minutes, there would be violent muscle spasms, temporary blindness, and total loss of limb control.
From the next fifteen to thirty minutes, the victim’s organs would shut down, while experiencing agony so severe it drove him into a coma.
And finally, after thirty minutes, it was death by cardiac arrest as the nervous system collapsed.
From the day Roman arrived at the West Pack, he had been reluctantly supplying Asher with venom. Of course, he’d tried to discourage him, but this was Asher they were talking about. No one could change his mind once it was made up. Well, no one but Violet.
Asher was microdosing in small, controlled amounts over time, forcing his body to produce specialized antibodies. These neutralized the venom before it could spread, gradually building immunity.
The danger, however, was immense.
If the dose was even slightly too high, the venom would overwhelm his system and kill him long before his body had a chance to adapt. Thankfully, Asher was a smart, lucky bastard.
However, this wasn’t a permanent solution either. Since Roman’s venom was organic, it evolved with him. His body could subtly change its composition without his conscious control, meaning even a fully immune Asher could still be caught off guard if the venom mutated.
So to stay protected, Asher had to keep taking fresh doses, or his antibodies would become outdated.
"Are you timing me?" Asher asked with a hoarse voice, breathing heavily. His skin had lost its color, sweat breaking out across his forehead.
Roman’s lips twisted sardonically. "Of course. How could I miss timing your grand descent into glory?"
"Sadist," Asher called him through gritted teeth.
"Masochist," Roman fired back smoothly, never looking away from his phone’s timer.
His expression hardened as he watched the seconds tick by. "Four minutes," he announced, counting down as if sheer willpower alone would keep Asher alive.
Then Asher’s body jerked violently, his muscles seizing under his own skin. His pupils blew wide before rolling back, leaving only the whites visible. His breathing hitched and turned to desperate, shallow gasps.
"Asher...?" Roman was anxious now. Although this was not the first time he had witnessed this, it still didn’t make it any easier to watch. If anything went wrong tonight, there would be no undoing it.
"W-wait..." Asher rasped, dragging in a ragged inhale that rattled in his chest. Then, as quickly as the spasms had begun, his body went slack. His pupils came back into focus, and his breathing evened out.
Roman exhaled, only now realizing he’d been holding his breath. "Five minutes on the dot," he said, one part relieved and impressed at the same time. "You did it."
Without a word, Asher dragged himself upright, drenched in sweat. He reached for the bottle of Roman’s venom, flicked out his black claws, and dipped them into the liquid. Aside from a biting numbness, there was no trace of the usual paralyzing effect.
A huge grin spread across his face. "It worked."
"Congratulations," Roman said, the edge in his tone unmistaken.
Asher looked up at him. "What?"
Roman’s jaw tightened. "When I gave you my venom, the plan was to use it on your traitorous alphas, not on yourself. That was the whole point."
"Why?" Asher teased, tilting his head. "Scared that your venom won’t work on me anymore?"
Roman’s eyes flashed with fury. His voice rose, "My venom isn’t static. All my body has to do is evolve, and you’re—"
"The venom is for Dominic," Asher cut him off. "Dominic is more experienced than me. However, I’m an Alpha by birth. I’m stronger. He knows that. And that’s why he’ll try to squash any possibility of me winning tomorrow."
Asher continued, "Jeremiah found out that Dominic dabbles in the black market. When I went into Patricia’s head, I saw things that convinced me he has something up his sleeve for tomorrow’s match."
Roman’s eyes narrowed. "So the venom—"
"—Will give me a narrow victory," Asher finished, staring at his now dried claws. "At least, I hope so." He looked up at Roman, his voice quieter now. "If anything happens to me tomorrow—"
"Nothing will happen to you, Asher Nightshade." Roman’s voice rose like a growl. "You will defeat that traitorous bastard and come out victorious. You’re the last bond. Do not fail our mate."
Asher was stunned by Roman’s sudden outburst, then he beamed. "Fine. For Violet."
"For Violet!" Roman echoed, even louder this time. "Now," he sighed, exhausted, "can we go to bed?"
"Yes, I just need to wash—" Asher was still speaking when Roman tackled him straight onto the bed.
"Roman Draven, get the fuck off me, right now!" Asher roared, thrashing beneath him.
But Roman only tightened his grip, wrapping around him like a possessive girlfriend. Or rather, like a giant octopus. When Asher realized struggling was pointless, he froze in disbelief.
Roman grinned and his head on his chest, saying with a sultry voice.
"Just sleep, darling."
Asher stared down at him, utterly horrified. Then, with no other choice, he muttered curses under his breath and did exactly as Roman said.
And perhaps, Asher did have good reasons to be wary of Dominic, because at that very moment, the man held a
strange, blood-red pearl in his palm. He placed it into his mouth and swallowed it.
The effect was immediate. Dominic’s body convulsed, veins crawling up his neck and into his eyes until they bulged grotesquely. A guttural, animalistic growl ripped from his throat as his irises glowed red before returning to normal.
The surge of raw power that followed was intoxicating, and overwhelming.
Dominic’s lips twisted into a feral grin. He felt unstoppable.
Asher Nightshade was going to die in his hands tomorrow.