Page 44 of Galaxy Between Us

“Ultraviolet? How were you able to see it then?”

“I don’t know. But I did.”

“And the light refraction? Did you see the source of that?”

“I think so… It felt like there was a galaxy nearby. Its stars kept me warm.”

Dr. Ritza stares at me with deep intrigue and curiosity. It takes me a minute to unravel the question in her gaze.

“The concept of size was completely obsolete. I felt…not like a tiny, insignificant Omega… I felt huge. One with the space where physics don’t have limits,” I explain to her and she hums.

It was truly as if I’d been standing beside an entire galaxy instead of existing as a speck of dust within one. Or perhaps there are galaxies so small that I could look upon the entire thing. Who knows. I wish I’d gotten to stay there longer.

My head starts to feel dizzy, and Dr. Ritza notices the way my hands grip the arm rests.

“Can I see Knox?” I blurt before she can instruct me to rest.

“There’s not much to see, Arius,” she scolds me, not for the first time.

“Please, Doctor. I just want to be close to him,” I beg, feeling cold in the sterile lab rooms without him by my side. It’s no secret that I’m his, and he’s mine, but Dr. Ritza still appears hesitant. Until we’re mated, the world will only view me as his personal sex doll.

“Only for a few minutes. I don’t want any information about the project’s outcome leaking to the public. Not yet.”

I nod sharply in understanding. This is a huge discovery. We need to dive into it first before anyone else can steal our findings and make sense of them. Taking a deep breath, I get up slowly, cursing the Alpha-sized shirt and sweatpants hanging off me. They’re comfortable on my aching limbs but show off more skin than I’d like.

Stepping into the empty hallway, I tug the annoying fabric over my shoulder from which it fell. This floor remains relatively vacant with highly restrictive access. Dr. Ritza scans her badge to allow us through to the project labs. I’m not surprised to see Gomez pacing the hallway just outside of the main entrance.

I form a pitiful expression. With his boss absent and unconscious, he’s been itching for something to do. He was told he could take a vacation, but he refused, saying that he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Knox’s condition. Much like the rest of us, he wants to be here when he wakes up.

I nod at Gomez and he nods back, eager to check on Knox too. We enter the lab and follow Dr. Ritza to the scientist overseeing Knox's progress from a desk full of monitors.

“How is he?” I whisper, side-eyeing the transfer bed where Knox lies tangled in the complex machinery.

Sometimes my heart tells me this is too much. We didn’t need this big of a diversion, but I was just so damn curious. I went to space. The third Omega in history to ever be there with the stars.

I was told that my Omega boarding school has been trying to reach out and add me to their hall of fame. That should keep me busy while Knox is under.

“His brain activity is showing odd signals, but everything in his frontal cortex is functioning properly. He shows no signs of distress and his vitals are stabilized,” the scientist responds, keeping her eyes on the monitors.

“Odd signals?” I step behind her, trying to make sense of the illustrations and pixels on the screens. Gomez peers curiously too, but it’s impossible to interpret the data unless you’re a genius.

“Nothing worrisome, Arius,” Dr. Ritza assures me, sounding annoyed with my concern, “His condition is very similar to how yours was. Even if a few receptors fail, he’s still withstanding any discomforts. His brain won’t back out as quickly as yours did.”

“Because he’s an Alpha?” I bite at her.

“Because he's Knox.”

Not believing her, I clench my jaw and return my sights to the monitors.

“What about his occipital lobe? You only checked the frontal cortex.”

The scientist’s expression hardens. I know I have no place questioning her ability to do her job, but this isn’t about us. It’s about Knox’s health. Just because I got out safely doesn't guarantee that he will. He’s not invincible just because he's an Alpha.

“His visual receptors are functioning, but…”

The scientist pulls up a window on a screen that she hadn't been monitoring as closely. My heart races and I chew on the collar of my shirt while watching colors dance around on a digital map of Knox’s brain. She spins the model around to view the back and that’s where I can tell something is wrong. The scientist sucks in a breath and glances at Dr. Ritza.

“Prognosis?” she asks, looking uncertain of the wavering purple smudge on the back of Knox’s brain. The scientist types with speed across a keyboard, making quick assessments of information as the windows pop up on several monitors.