Chapter 180: You’re A Terrible Kisser, Zyren…

The hospital’s private VIP room is a suffocating silence.

Heavy curtains are drawn tight across the glass walls, swallowing the afternoon light before it can reach the floor. The room sits in a muted twilight, lit only by the soft glow of the monitors beside my bed. The air smells of antiseptic—cold, clinical, settling in my lungs like smoke.

I lie on the bed, an IV taped to the inside of my elbow, a thin tube feeding something clear and cool into my veins. The tape pulls at my skin when I move, a small, persistent reminder that I’m tethered here.

My eyes are fixed on the ceiling, tracing the nearly invisible seams between the panels for the hundredth time. My face is a mask of boredom and confusion, a poor disguise for the unease curling in my stomach like a trapped animal.

Moon sits on the couch across the room, his body angled toward me, his blue gaze pinned on my face with an intensity that makes my skin prickle and my pulse quicken.

He watches me like I’m something fragile, something about to shatter.

Like he’s memorizing the shape of me, the color of my eyes, the way my chest rises and falls beneath the thin hospital sheet.

Like this might be the last time he sees me whole.

I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know why they drew three vials of my blood, why the doctors exchanged glances they thought I didn’t notice, why the nurse’s hands trembled—just slightly— when she checked my vitals.

I don’t know why I’m lying here, in this sterile room, with this man watching me like I’m already gone.

The door opens with a soft whisper.

The nurse enters, her footsteps barely audible on the polished floor. She carries a small syringe, her movements efficient, practiced. She injects something into the IV port—I watch the clear liquid travel down the tube, feel the faint coolness as it enters my bloodstream—then checks the tape on my hand, smoothing the edges with gentle fingers.

“Mr. Kael.” Her voice is soft, professional. I turn my gaze to her.

“Please try not to move your hand too much. If you need anything, just press the call button.”

I nod once. A small movement. Enough.

She bows and slips out, and the door closes behind her with a soft click that echoes in the silence.

I shoot Moon an annoyed glance, then look back at the ceiling.

“What’s with that expression?” His voice cuts through the quiet, low and unreadable.

I don’t look at him. “First, you play that disgusting joke on me this morning. Second, you drag me here against my will. Third, you won’t tell me what’s happening.”

My jaw tightens. I can feel the words hardening in my throat. “And you expect me to smile and say, ’Thank you, great Moon Arden, for making me so happy’?”

I hear him stand. The couch sighs as he rises, his footsteps crossing the room with unhurried confidence. The mattress dips as he sits beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth through the thin hospital sheet, close enough that his shoulder almost brushes mine.

I turn my glare on him. “Don’t sit there. Go back to the couch.”

He doesn’t move. His eyes hold mine, steady and unreadable.

“Do you really think you’re alright?”

“Yes.” The word comes out sharper than I intended, a blade meant to cut. “I was perfectly fine until you used your pheromones on me.”

I let the accusation hang in the air between us. “You know that’s a crime. I could sue you.”

He doesn’t flinch. His expression doesn’t change. “And what about you?”

I blink, thrown. “What do you mean?”

His face is serious now, stripped of all playfulness, all mockery. In the dim light, he looks older. Tired.

“Last night, when you collapsed, when your body was burning up…” A pause. “You were releasing pheromones like an Omega in heat.”

I go still.

Again. He’s starting this nonsense again. Omega in heat. I’m an Alpha.

But the words settle in my chest anyway, finding purchase in a space I didn’t know was hollow.

He leans over me, his face inches from mine. His blue eyes lock with mine, close enough to see the faint shadows beneath them, the way his pupils darken as he watches me.

“Do you want to know the truth?” His voice is barely a whisper.

I stay silent. I just stare at him, my heart beginning to beat a warning rhythm against my ribs.

His gaze drops to my lips. Lingers there. “Last night…” His voice is low, intimate, meant only for me.

“You kissed me.”

My eyes widen.

Me? Kiss him?

His eyes find mine again, and I’m trapped in them, drowning in them. Our faces are inches apart, our breath mingling in the narrow space between us. I can taste the coffee on his breath, feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

“You’re a terrible kisser, Zyren.”

My patience snaps. “Moon—”

He presses his lips to mine.

The kiss is not gentle. It’s not tentative or questioning. It’s a claim, a demand, a punishment and a promise all at once. My cheeks burn, heat flooding through me like a fever, spreading from my lips to my chest to the tips of my fingers.

I try to move my hand—the one without the IV, the one I need to push him away—but his hand slides over it, fingers interlacing with mine, pinning it to the white sheet beside my hip.

His weight leans into me, not crushing, but present. Inescapable. I can feel the hard line of his chest against mine, the warmth of his skin through the thin hospital gown, the steady rhythm of his heart beating against my own frantic pulse.

He sucks my lower lip, slow and deliberate, and my resistance wavers. Cracks. He pulls back just enough to let me gasp for air—I hear the sound, ragged and desperate—and then his mouth is on mine again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding between my lips, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my control.

My body betrays me. My fists clench in the sheets, fingers twisting in the fabric, but I can’t push him away. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m melting, drowning, disappearing into him, and somewhere beneath the panic I feel something else—something I don’t want to name.

He pulls back, finally, and my chest heaves as I suck in air. My lips are wet, my face burning, my heart a wild, desperate thing in my chest. I can’t look at him. I can’t look away.

“Zyren.”

His voice is low, satisfied, a velvet stroke against my skin. “That’s how a kiss should be. Now you understand.”

“You—”

KNOCK… KNOCK….

The door opens.

The nurse steps in, her clipboard held loosely in her hands. Her eyes widen. She freezes in the doorway, her mouth parting slightly, her cheeks flushing pink.

Moon doesn’t move. He stays where he is, leaning over me, his blue gaze fixed on my face like I’m the only thing in the room worth seeing. Like being caught means nothing to him.

The nurse’s voice is hesitant, almost apologetic, when she finally speaks.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, but Mr. Kael’s test results are back.” A pause. “The doctor would like to see you.”

She bows quickly—too quickly—and flees, the door clicking shut behind her.

I lie there, trapped beneath Moon’s gaze, my heart pounding, my face still burning, the ghost of his lips still warm on mine.

This crazy man. This impossible, infuriating man. Who does whatever he wants. Whenever he wants.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches me with those impossible blue eyes, waiting.

And I have no idea what comes next.

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