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“Unlike lycans, they’re milked.” She pried the snake’s mouth open, its sharp fangs glistening. I held my breath as its tongue darted out. “No worries, it doesn’t hurt them.” She smiled at the snake. A nurturing, tender smile that I didn’t even think she was capable of. “Once I have the sample, it’s injected into one of our mice.” She pointed to somewhere else in the room, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off her or that creature.

“Can a mouse handle that?”

“They all have tiny implants—a creation of my own. A little sliver of alchemized metal that gives them the withstanding of a typical equine.”

“You’re saying your mice are as strong as a horse.”

“Correct.” She grinned, letting the snake slither over to her other hand. “You look a little uneasy, Beta.” She was goading me. It dripped from her voice and settled in my spine. I itched to tell her that I was no beta but doused the instinct. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m calculating my chances of surviving a bite from a venomous creature.”

One of her brows lifted, a humorless smile tilting her lips up. “Imagine that,” she said. The pain in her eyes sunk my heart.

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

She tilted her head as if daring me to say more. I let my sentence hang.

“Aura—”

With a terrifying hiss, the snake shot out toward my face, and all my muscles tensed up. I could’ve run, but I was frozen in fear. Aura caught the snake, her hands lightly around its neck, bringing it back close to her body. “Now, now, Edgar,” she said. “That isn’t very nice. He’s walking on thin ice, but he’s tolerable.” She turned, and I couldn’t help but follow the sway of her hips as she made her way back to the tank.

I loosed a breath once the snake was securely tucked away.

She continued as if her snake hadn’t nearly tried to end my life. “After a few weeks, I extract blood from the mice and separate out the antibodies. That goes into a purification process I won’t get into right now, and that’s how the antivenom is made. It’s a fairly long process, and it could go wrong. I have a pet at home that was my first test subject. He’s retired now, and I mainly do this process with the lycan venom, obviously. But every now and then I have to harvest the snakes’ venom to keep Shan from getting suspicious.”

“That makes sense.”

“I will offer your pack antivenom,” she said.

I tried not to look surprised

“It won’t cure any cases of Lobofebris, but it will slow down the effects should anyone get bitten. And then you need to be on your way. Do you understand?”

Something painful pulsed behind my breastbone. The thought of not seeing her every day was odd. “But we didn’t find a cure.”

“You stupid lycan,” she said, though the words didn’t sound as genuine as they once did. There was something almost tender behind them. “It’ll be a while before I find a cure. And though I’ve upped my dose for the draft, the symptoms persist.” She licked her lips and averted her gaze. “My notes are locked in the bottom left drawer of my desk. I’m sure you can figure out how to break the lock if needed. I’ll tell Mags the same.”

She didn’t say anything else, but she leaned back against the counter across the room, her lips downturned.

“Aura.”

“Tell me where my notes are.”

My lips tugged down. “Bottom left drawer in your desk. But Aura, consider that your worsening symptoms are just brought on by your He⁠—”

“Sylvan, accuse me of going into Heat one more time, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

“So hostile,” I murmured, fighting the smile that tried to break through.

She shrugged and continued staring at me.

“What would you say if there was a vampire equivalent of Heat? How about …” I gnawed on my lip as I thought of an example. “Let’s say, hypothetically bloodlust was a recurring thing. And the only way to combat it was to, oh, I don’t know, suck someone’s blood. But if not done with someone who understood, you would lose your mind or go unwittingly in search of a victim. Either you’d drain said victim, or they’d freak out and kill you.

“But if you did it with someone who did understand, it would be controlled and safe, and afterward, things would go back to normal. You’d never have to see the person again. Unless you want to repeat it in another few months with the next bloodlust cycle. What would you do as the intellect I know you are?”

I expected her to either reprimand me for my horrible comparison or ignore me. Instead, her mind latched on to one thing. “Few months?” she asked. “Not every month?”

I shook my head slowly, and she rubbed her forehead. Annoyance and worry pulsed from her. “Does something happen to you every month?”