Chapter 14 · Skin Contact

"Don't move. One more twitch and I'll let the feedback loop fry your brain," Sloane hissed, her forearm pinning my throat against the damp concrete wall.

I couldn't breathe, let alone argue. My vision was swimming in jagged neon streaks. Every nerve ending felt like it was being scraped by a rusty razor. The gene-lock White Suit had triggered wasn't just a lock—it was a meltdown. My blood felt like boiling acid, and the only thing keeping me from screaming was the sheer pressure of Sloane's weight against me.

"You're... shaking," I managed to choke out, my voice sounding like I'd swallowed glass.

"Shut up," she snapped, but she didn't let go. In fact, she pressed closer. I could feel the cold leather of her tactical gear grinding into my chest, and the heat radiating off her skin was the only real thing in the room. "Your sync rate is hitting the red zone. If we don't stabilize this now, we both go dark."

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a wet wheeze. "Since when do you... care if I go dark? I thought you wanted me in a cage.