Chapter 278: Time is ticking

The sky outside the vast glass windows slowly transformed from bright blue to a deep, bruised amber. Kieran spent hours working relentlessly at his central lab station, swapping chemical solutions between glass beakers, measuring reagents, and channeling steady threads of his raw Alpha magic into the compounds.

A thin sheet of sweat glistened across his forehead, making his pale skin look almost translucent. Yuki could tell he was running on absolute exhaustion, but she was too unsettled by her own suspicion to interrupt him.

Time was mercilessly ticking against her, and Kieran looked as if he were bordering on physical collapse. He had originally ordered her to leave the laboratory to rest, but she had stubbornly insisted on staying to act as his assistant.

Yuki sat on a high stool, watching him carefully as he held a new vial up to the light. "Pass me the potassium buffer solution on the lower shelf," Kieran instructed, his deep voice heavy with strain.

Yuki quickly reached for the bottle, but the moment her fingers wrapped around the glass, a sudden wave of sharp dizziness hit her. Her vision blurred, and the bottle nearly slipped from her grasp.

Despite being absorbed in his analysis, Kieran’s heightened senses caught the awkward rattle of glass. He snapped his head toward her, his blue eyes narrowing. "What’s wrong?" he asked.

Yuki blinked through the haze, steadying her posture as she handed him the glass. "It’s nothing," she said quickly, forcing her voice to stay even. "I’m probably just tired."

She couldn’t bring herself to admit that a dull throbbing had begun behind her temples. She desperately tried to dismiss it as simple fatigue from the chaotic day. She couldn’t bear to entertain the possibility that the headache was the first stage of the infection or whatever was in that scratch taking root.

Kieran’s sharp gaze lingered on her face for a long, silent moment. Finally, he gave a quiet nod and accepted the vial. He added the liquid to a glass test tube, heated it over a burner, and drew a tiny drop with a pipette, placing it onto a slide beneath the digital microscope.

Whatever they were fighting wasn’t a standard viral or bacterial infection. From everything Kieran had observed, it was far closer to an artificial neuro-synthetic toxin designed to paralyse the central nervous system and sever a wolf’s spiritual connection to their inner beast. Something more deadly wolfsbane.

As Kieran peered down into the lens, Yuki watched the muscle along his jaw clench tightly. Another failure. He didn’t need to say it aloud; the frustration radiating off his shoulders spoke volumes. He pulled back and recorded the failed ratio in his research logbook with sharp, violent strokes.

Yuki couldn’t keep quiet any longer. "Maybe we should take a break," she said softly. "You haven’t eaten a single thing all day, Kieran, and you’ve been draining your magic for hours."

Kieran paused, looking up from his notes with a dry, tired smile. "Are you worried about me, little Vixen?" he teased.

Yuki’s lips twitched. "I just don’t want my only doctor dying on me before he fixes my arm." she sneered

Kieran let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I can hold on." He dumped the failed solution into the chemical waste disposal and reached for a fresh set of beakers. "Go lie down in the guest room and rest."

Yuki’s hands clenched into fists in her lap. She hated seeing him like this—relentless, self-sacrificing, and running himself into the ground.

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if this was how he had driven himself when he developed the first regenerative drug while she was in coma. A sudden warmth threatened to bloom in her chest, but she ruthlessly shoved it down. She couldn’t afford to feel anything soft for these men. He was probably only pushing himself this hard to prevent a public scandal from tarnishing the Ravencourt name.

Then her stomach growled.

The sound carried clearly through the quiet laboratory.

Kieran froze mid-motion, holding a glass beaker in the air. He blinked, slowly turning his head to stare at her.

Yuki’s face burned, a vivid crimson blush spreading down her neck.

"Have you really not eaten anything since breakfast?" Kieran asked, his tone flat. It was an absurd question, considering she hadn’t left his side all day.

He let out a heavy, defeated sigh. The obsessive medical researcher who couldn’t spare two seconds for a glass of water pulled off his rubber gloves and tossed them onto the counter.

"Fine," Kieran announced, rolling down his white sleeves. "We’re taking a thirty-minute break."

He walked over to the lab sink and meticulously scrubbed his hands with antibacterial soap. "Come on," he urged, motioning for her to follow as he unlocked the heavy lab door and led her down the floating staircase. "Do you want to order takeout, or is there something specific you want to eat?"

Yuki looked at the darkened sky outside, knowing they didn’t have the luxury of waiting an hour for a delivery driver to reach an isolated cliffside villa. "Instant noodles would be fine," she offered softly.

Kieran turned the suggestion down with an authoritative scoff. "Absolutely not. You need real nutrients."

Yuki sighed, following him into the spacious ground-floor kitchen. "Fine, then I’ll just cook something quickly. Just don’t expect Michelin-star standards."

Kieran’s mouth curved into a light, tired sneer as they reached the island counter. "As long as you don’t manage to poison us both, I’ll consider it a success."

Yuki’s cheeks flushed again. The truth was, she was far from a master chef. While she could handle basic prep, her guardian, Aunt Lydia, had possessed a deep passion for cooking and had rarely allowed Yuki near the stove, preferring to have her son Terry assist instead.

She vividly remembered an evening when Terry had teased her, calling her a spoiled princess because his mother refused to let her chop vegetables. Aunt Lydia had promptly smacked Terry on the shoulder, scolding him: *Yuki spends her entire day studying at the top of her academy class! She doesn’t need to be wasting her energy doing heavy kitchen chores!*

The only thing in the kitchen Yuki helped with was the dishes and misemplacements which of course Lydia wouldn’t let her do at times.

Aunt Lydia had treated Yuki with a warmth that rivalled a biological mother’s, making her feel like true family. The memory warmed her for a moment before she pushed it aside.