Page 10 of Catalyst

My legs trembled as my climax hit like a tidal wave. The pleasure was so intense I momentarily forgot how to breathe.

As the aftershocks rippled through me, Kane finally withdrew, leaving me trembling and spent. My chest heaved as I sucked in air, my mind blissfully blank for the first time in months.

Then I saw Kane casually tossing my leggings into the trash.

“H-hey!” I gasped, my voice shaky.

He shot me a smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re not wearing those again.”

“Why not?” I protested weakly.

“Because they don’t fit.” His gaze softened slightly, and he reached down, pulling me to my feet. “I’ve got some sweatpants you can borrow.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist, steadying me as I wobbled, my knees still weak from everything he’d just done. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he made sure I wouldn’t fall before letting me go.

“Take your time getting ready,” he murmured, looking away from me. “It won’t kill you to be a couple of minutes late.”

I nodded, even though I disagreed. Kane gave me one last lingering look before heading out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the delicious ache he’d left behind.

I sank back into the chair, my heart still pounding and my body still buzzing with the afterglow. I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening between us, but whatever it was… I wasn’t ready for it to stop.

I really needed to write Kane a thank-you note for this morning. Realistically, he was just a man who wanted sex, but without his injection of confidence, I didn’t think I would’ve made it through the day.

Between Kane’s maroon sweatpants and Sulien’s oversized black shirt, I looked like I was prancing around campus in pajamas. If someone had told me last year that I’d show up to the first day of my sophomore year like this, I probably would’ve had a heart attack.

Appearances were everything to my family, and unfortunately, their vanity was one of the many qualities I’d inherited. Most mornings, I’d spend over an hour in front of the mirror, makingsure every strand of hair was perfectly in place. If I didn’t look flawless, I felt like I didn’t deserve to bear the Voltaris name.

But today? I didn’t fit into that mold—and the world didn’t end.

Sure, my pulse needed to get the memo before I passed the fuck out, but I was alive. I was okay. My classmates’ thoughts weren’t exactly kind, but I couldn’t blame them. If someone else showed up thirty pounds heavier and visibly pregnant after disappearing for the entire summer, my thoughts would’ve been rude, too.

I kept my headphones in and my head down as I walked into Wearable Combat Systems. It was my last class of the day and the one I’d been looking forward to since last year. Valor University was famous for its heroes, but its tech program? Equally impressive, even if less well-known.

Last year, all my biomedical engineering classes heavily focused on theory. Wearable Combat Systems would be my first hands-on class and my first chance to experiment with actually making something. And I knew exactly what I wanted to create this semester.

Harsh fluorescent lights greeted me the second I stepped into the sterile, unforgiving, lab. The stainless-steel workbenches only amplified the glare, but I found a seat in the back, slipping onto a stool as I pulled out my notebook and tablet. The room filled quickly, but it felt noticeably emptier than all my other classes last year. Then again, this was a hard program, and Mom had warned me that most students dropped out before junior year.

But that wouldn’t be me. I couldn’t be one of the quitters. I had to prove myself. I needed to earn my family’s love again and show them they could be proud of me. Then maybe… just maybe, I could go home.

With about half the seats occupied, Dr. Langford strode into the room. Dressed in crisp black slacks and a white lab coat so starched it could’ve stood up on its own, she exuded an air of cold authority. A small Aegis Center pin gleamed on her lapel—a subtle reminder of her history with my family. Years ago, she’d been the top scientist in my family’s tech and pharmaceutical division, so of course, she’d be teaching this class. Luckily for me, she’d loved me when I was a kid. This class should be a piece of cake.

She marched straight to the whiteboard, grabbing a green marker as she passed her desk.

“Welcome to Wearable Combat Systems.” she began, her words sharp and confident. “As you already know, this course isn’t for the faint of heart. I don’t have high hopes for many—if any—of you to make it to the final.”

How could someone take a class and not make it to the final? That seemed like a ridiculous waste of time and effort. Even if you barely got a C, all you had to do was turn in your work and show up. Did people seriously not do that?

Her sharp blue eyes scanned the room, landing directly on me. I sat up straighter, pretending to scribble something in my notebook, though my brain was far from engaged. She held my gaze for a beat too long before addressing the class again.

“But if some of youdomake it to the final, I want you to be prepared,” she continued, turning back to the board. I could still feel her gaze drilling into me. “By the end of the semester, you’ll need to create a unique form of wearable tech—something practical, innovative, and combat-ready. And starting next week, you’ll be paired with one of the heroes at the Aegis Center to test your designs.”

Her words hung in the air, the weight of the assignment sinking in. Paired with a hero?

A jolt of excitement shot through me. Most of the Aegis heroes were practically celebrities—celebrities I knew. This wasn’t just a classroom exercise; it was a real opportunity.

This was my chance to prove I wasn’t just a disappointment to my family. I could show them I was more than the pregnant teenager who’d fallen for a guy the world now called a terrorist.

The class buzzed with whispers and murmurs as students began debating who they might be paired with and brainstorming ideas for their tech. But I stayed quiet, keeping my head down, already sketching rough outlines of my project in the corner of my notebook.

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