Chapter 74 Two Victims
[Nyx]
What—
"What the hell is that?" Lysander's voice cut through the silence, sharp and dangerous.
On screen, Selene leaned over my unconscious body. Her free hand reached for my IV line, fingers working to access the port.
The syringe moved closer to the tubing—
The bathroom door handle turned.
Selene's head snapped toward the sound. In one fluid motion, she shoved the syringe back into her jacket pocket and stepped away from the bed, her expression instantly transforming from cold calculation to concerned surprise.
Lysander emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping wet.
He froze, clearly startled to see someone in the room. "Miss Blackwood?" His voice was sharp, immediately suspicious. "What are you doing here?"
"Commander Crowley!" Selene's hand went to her chest, as if she were the one caught off guard. "I'm so sorry—the nurse said it was alright to come in. I wanted to check on Mrs. Crowley." Her voice was breathy, concerned. "I was just... making sure she was comfortable."
But I could see it in the replay—the slight bulge in her jacket pocket where she'd hidden the syringe. The way she'd positioned herself between Lysander and the bed, blocking his view of where she'd been standing moments before.
"Without knocking?" Lysander's voice was flat, wary. He reached for the scrub shirt on the chair, his eyes never leaving her. "What do you want, Miss Blackwood?"
Beside me in the security office, Lysander had gone completely still. His breathing had changed—deeper, controlled, like he was fighting to keep himself calm.
"You didn't know," I said quietly, realization dawning. "You didn't see this part."
"I came out of the shower and she was just... there." His voice was tight. "I thought she'd just walked in. I didn't know she'd been—"
He couldn't finish. His hands were clenched into fists.
On screen, Selene had shifted tactics. She moved away from my bed—not toward the door, but toward Lysander. Close enough that I could see her hand slip casually into her pocket, making sure the syringe stayed hidden.
"I wanted to see how she's recovering," Selene said, her eyes traveling over Lysander's half-dressed state. "And you—you went through the same ordeal."
Cold dread washed over me as I stared at the screen.
She was going to inject me with something. While I was unconscious. Defenseless.
If Lysander had stayed in the shower another thirty seconds...
"Pause it," I said, my voice coming out hoarse. "Rewind. Show me what she pulled out of her pocket."
The guard's fingers flew over the keyboard, rewinding to when Selene first entered. He zoomed in, enhanced the image.
There—clear as day. A syringe. Medical-grade. The way she'd handled it, the purposeful movement toward my IV line—
"She was going to inject something into my IV," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you hadn't come out when you did—"
Lysander's jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle ticking. "Play it," he ordered.
The footage continued.
"Mrs. Crowley is stable," Selene said on screen, her eyes still on Lysander's exposed skin.
"Ms. Verdant," Lysander corrected curtly, pulling the shirt over his head. His eyes never left her, still suspicious, still wary. "She kept her family name. And the doctors say she'll recover fully."
Selene's expression flickered. "Oh? She didn't take your name?"
"The kind who's proud of her own family legacy," Lysander said flatly. "And whose husband respects that."
But I could barely focus on the words now. My eyes kept going back to that bulge in her jacket pocket. The syringe she'd hidden when Lysander interrupted her.
She came here to hurt me. While I was unconscious.
The realization made my blood run cold.
The rest of the footage played out—Selene's attempts at seduction, clearly improvisation after her real plan got interrupted. Lysander's rejections. Her calculating offer of alliance.
But now I understood. The seduction wasn't the plan. It was a backup. A distraction when what she'd really come to do—inject me with something—got interrupted by Lysander emerging from the bathroom.
"I want that footage isolated and sent to my personal drive," Lysander said, his voice deadly quiet. "Timestamped and certified."
The guard nodded quickly, already working.
"If she's already left the premises, I want to know what she disposed of and where." Lysander's jaw was tight. "Check all trash receptacles, medical waste bins, everything between Room 407 and the exit she used."
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."
The guard's fingers flew across the keyboard, isolating the frames showing Selene with the syringe. Zooming in. Enhancing. Creating a clear timeline of her entering, approaching the bed, reaching for the IV line—
And Lysander interrupting just in time.
I stared at the screen, my chest tight with delayed terror.
She was going to inject me with something.
My phone rang.
The sharp sound cut through the silence. I glanced at the screen.
Damon Blackwood.
My stomach dropped. I had a hunch—and it wasn't good.
"Answer it," Lysander said immediately.
I swiped to accept. "Damon?"
"Nyx." His voice was tight, controlled, but fear bled through. "You need to come to the hospital. Now."
"What happened?" I was already standing. "Is Lilith—"
"Her condition's deteriorating. The doctors say her body's rejecting the rewarming treatment." His voice cracked. "They're not sure she's going to make it through the night."