Harem Apocalypse: My Seed is the Cure?!

"Fine..."

Relief flooded through me so powerfully I nearly staggered.

Thank God.

I’d done it.

I’d convinced her.

Now I could cure her, save her life, get both sisters to safety.

With a shared breath of relief, I straightened up, feeling the cold sweat slide down my spine beneath the loose fabric of my shirt.

"Then let’s not waste time," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, clipped. "Your sister will be checking on us soon. Let’s end it before she comes back."

But the truth writhed inside me like a living thing. I wasn’t just racing her return—I was racing the clock inside Rachel’s trembling body. The sickness already curled under her skin like smoke waiting to ignite. If I didn’t do this now, if she transformed before I—before we—

"Get on the bed," I told her, stripping off my black T-shirt in one smooth motion. The cotton peeled away from my skin. I tossed it to the floor, quickly slid the knife I’d kept nearby under the edge of the dresser. There was no place for it now. Just us. My hand shook for a moment, but I forced my fingers steady, let the instinct to move take over thought.

Rachel obeyed, slow, halting. She climbed onto the bed like it wasn’t hers, like the mattress was unfamiliar territory, her eyes low, avoiding mine. She gripped her own arm tight, fingers white around the flesh, holding herself together with whatever threadbare control she had left.

She wouldn’t even look at me.