Quanta collapsed in my arms.

It was no peaceful faint; her eyes flicked rapidly behind her lids and her fingers twitched, nearly seizing.

Seeing her pain numbed some of the anger riding through my veins, but not all of it.

Not nearly all of it.

Paired. With Quanta.

I realized I was holding her too tight, my fingers digging into her sleeves. Gently, I lowered her to the ground. “She needs medical.”

One of the guards spoke into his com, though I assumed Darren was already in motion.

Shit.

My first reaction had been to blame Quanta, because she must’ve known. How could she not?

Then I’d seen the horror in her eyes. She’d never agreed to being paired, and she knew exactly what it meant for us. We’d been matched on every possible level and the death sentence that came with her Red Helix would be extended to me if anyone found out about our connection.

I knew everything I needed to about the program, but reading Eva’s notes was different than waking up to find out that I’d been her guinea pig for years.

Years. Hollow noise roared in my ears.

Lady Eva paired volatile Reds with volunteers who had sympathetic—sometimes opposite—genetic traits. I’d been learning what the process involved. Microchimerism, tailored pheromones, and gene therapy for starters.

She’d used all of those on me.

But when? And how?

And why?

I’d trusted Eva with my secrets and I couldn’t think of a deeper betrayal. She knew I’d come to her because I despised being a cog in the system—a catalog son with a pre-programmed future. And Eva had tied me to a girl she assumed was dead.

Or had she known all along that Quanta was alive?

Bloody hell.

That smug smile of hers. Follow your heart.

She’d known what would happen when Quanta and I crossed paths. I’d be drawn to her and I wouldn’t be able to help myself.

Anger blurred the edges of my vision.

If I wanted to be screwed with, I could’ve stayed at home.

A soft whimper slipped Quanta’s lips. The sound of her pain shot through my rage. I reached out to her before I could think twice.

As soon as our fingers twined together, she let out a breath, relaxing onto the floor tiles.

It felt right to hold her and comfort her.

Of course it did. I’d been programmed to be her buffer, her support… Whatever Quanta needed.

I wanted to feel bitter, but I couldn’t blame her when she lay so hurt and vulnerable. Using my free hand, I gently pushed her tangles away from her face. My fingertips grazed her cheek and that microscopic touch jolted up my arm.

Pheromones.