CHAPTER 72: EXPLAINING TO ALISHA

Elena lay collapsed back against the bed sheet the moment her climax ebbed, her chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven waves. Her skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat, her hair clinging in damp strands to her temples, lips parted as she gasped incoherent little sounds—half-whimpers, half-sighs—her throat still raw from the way she’d moaned. I felt my own body shaking in the aftermath, the final throbs of release leaving me drained but restless at the same time.

I had good stamina, but even I wasn’t an inexhaustible machine. That orgasm had torn through me, leaving a hollowed weakness in my thighs and yet, absurdly, a stirring insistence that I could get hard again just from watching the state she was in. Her disheveled, trembling form, the mess between her legs—God, it lit a fuse inside me all over again. My cock twitched beneath my pants the moment I pulled them back on, and I had to steady myself, clenching my jaw so I wouldn’t simply drag her open again without pause.

She lay curled slightly on her side, moaning faintly, her voice broken into little syllables that weren’t words at all. That fragile incoherence made her look ruined, used, her mind clouded in bliss, and the sight drove my arousal to a dangerous edge. I forced myself to wait. She needed time. I watched the slow flutter of her lashes, the way her flushed face softened gradually until her eyes managed to focus again.

"R... Ryan..." She breathed at last when she saw me. She turned her face away, cheeks hot pink, closing her thighs together as if to hide what we both knew was there—my seed leaking out in a thick trickle from her sorely stretched pussy.

I had filled her so deep the thought alone made me throb again.

I lowered myself beside her and carefully slid an arm under her shoulders, lifting her into a half-sit. She was pliant against me, weak from the intensity, and the trust of that weight against my chest stirred something warmer beneath all the raw lust. I draped a another fresh sheet across her trembling body, shielding her from the cool air and from my eyes, though the image was already seared into me.

"Here," I murmured, pressing a glass of water into her hand. Her fingers shook as she took it, gulping it down like someone parched. Her throat bobbed visibly, lips wet as she drained half the glass in greedy swallows.

Guilt pricked through the haze of desire. "Sorry... if I went too far," I whispered, brushing damp hair away from her cheek.

She shook her head quickly, blushing deeper. "I... I think we both lost control," she said.

The reminder cut sharp through my lust, though not in the way I expected. Alisha’s face flashed in my mind—the horrified expression of her sister, standing frozen at the door while Elena moaned shamelessly under me. The memory made me clench my fist against my forehead, my body betraying me with another pulse of arousal instead of shame. What the hell was happening to me? Was I really getting off on the humiliation of it, on knowing Elena’s twin had witnessed her most indecent sounds, her body shaking apart on my cock?

For Elena, though, the memory was daggers. Her lips quivered, her whole posture curling in on itself. "I... I’ll talk to her," she whispered. Even saying that much seemed to drain her, the mortification heavy in her voice.

She pushed against the bed, trying to stand. Her legs wobbled instantly, thighs quaking from the way I’d pounded her, and she nearly crumpled before I caught her waist. Her body was slick, trembling against mine, and just as I steadied her, the obscene sound of liquid dripping reached us both.

A thin stream of whiteness ran down her inner thigh, pattering onto the floor.

"D... Don’t look!" She cried, grabbing the front of my shirt, her eyes blazing with flustered anger as if she could undo what I’d already seen. Her blush burned hotter than ever, lips pursed in a trembling pout.

"Y...yeah, okay," I stammered, forcing myself to turn toward the wall, giving her privacy. My fists clenched at my sides, cock straining painfully as I listened to the rustle of her hurried movements. The sound of tissues, fabric brushing over skin, her soft grunts as she forced sore legs into pants—it was torture not to glance back, but I stayed frozen, letting her restore whatever dignity she could.

Five long minutes passed. Finally she spoke. "I’m done."

I turned to see her dressed again: the white T-shirt clinging slightly to her damp skin, her light blue knee-pants hiding what they could but unable to disguise the lingering tremble in her gait. Her skin still glistened faintly with sweat, hair tied back in a messy ponytail, a smear of flush across her cheeks that wouldn’t fade. On her neck, bold as a brand, my teeth marks showed.

Shame stabbed me—what kind of idiot leaves a love mark on a girl’s throat when secret needed to be kept?!

Elena noticed it too, her hand rising to rub the spot self-consciously. She wouldn’t look at me, arms crossed over her chest, her voice a breathy murmur. "G... Good night..."

"Yeah," I said softly, my throat tight.

We climbed the stairs together, silence thick between us. But the moment the basement door opened, we froze.

Alisha sat on the couch in the living room, her arms folded, her posture stiff and guarded. She was waiting, eyes fixed on us both, unreadable in the dim light of a torchlight.

Elena stuttered, "A... Alya..." Her voice cracked, while I lingered just behind her, clearly very awkward.

"I suppose you have finished," Alisha said. "Or should I leave you more time to... continue whatever this is?"

"I... I can explain it, Alya..." Elena stammered, taking a hesitant step forward. Her voice was laden with guilt and desperation. She reached out toward her sister, then let her hand fall limply to her side when she saw the cold expression on Alisha’s face.

"Since when?" Alisha cut her off, her question direct.

I was a bit caught off guard seeing such a cold expression on Alisha’s face...it was a first.

Elena flinched as if she’d been slapped. "I... It’s our second time but..."

The words hung in the air, incomplete and insufficient. Elena’s voice trailed off as she realized how hollow her explanation sounded. How could she possibly make her sister understand the impossible circumstances that had led to this moment?

"Lena..." Alisha’s voice carried a note of weary disappointment that cut deeper than any shout could have. She uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her lap, her shoulders sagging slightly. "I won’t presume to dictate the course of your actions, but I don’t understand when and how this happened. You’ve barely known him for two weeks."

The confusion in Alisha’s voice was clear, a fair reaction to what she was witnessing. Here was her twin sister, the same Elena who had always been cautious with boys, reserved in her affections, and thoughtful in her decisions about relationships.

I stood slightly apart from the sisters, watching their interaction.

Right.

Without my ability – this cursed gift that had been thrust upon me – Elena and I would never have crossed the boundaries we had. We wouldn’t have become this close, this quickly, under normal circumstances. The acceleration of our relationship was unnatural, driven by necessity rather than the slow burn of genuine courtship.

Alisha, who knew her sister better than anyone in the world, was understandably bewildered. In less than two weeks, we had gone from being mere acquaintances – if we could even call ourselves that – who had escaped an infected academy together, to... this. To stealing away to basement corners and losing ourselves in desperate, animalistic sex.

"He... he is a good person," Alisha continued, her gaze flickering between Elena and me. "But don’t you think this has progressed far too quickly? And you hid it from me?"

There was genuine hurt in her eyes now, a crack in that carefully maintained composure. The disappointment was clear, but underneath it was something more painful – the betrayal of trust between sisters who had always shared everything.

Two weeks. Yes, that was all it had been.

Elena had clearly been raised with excellent values, given a proper education about relationships and self-respect. She wasn’t the type to be desperate or lonely enough to fall so quickly into a man’s arms even more when she had a sister with her. She was intelligent, strong-willed, and had always looked selective about who she allowed close to her.

There were exceptions in my case of course. Emily had thrown caution to the wind because she believed we were both going to die and wanted to experience sex before the end. Sydney was a different case entirely – we had developed a peculiar connection from the moment we met, growing close quickly but naturally. Our relationship had evolved smoothly, and anyone who knew Sydney understood that she was far from easy. She was actually quite the opposite, tough and guarded, especially with men. I was apparently the exception to her usual wariness.

But Elena... the first time I had encountered her, her defenses had been raised sky-high. She had struck me across the head with a broken chair leg, suspicious and wary of everyone and everything. It had taken hours for her guard to slowly lower, and even then, trust had come grudgingly. The change in her behavior toward me had been dramatic and sudden, accelerating beyond what should have been natural after that first time when everything changed.

"A... Alya... I..." Elena’s voice wavered, and I could see tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

I couldn’t stand to see her in pain, especially when she was suffering for something that wasn’t entirely her fault. The circumstances that had brought us together, that had forged this intense connection between us, were beyond either of our control. This was a misunderstanding in short.

I took a step forward, positioning myself slightly in front of Elena in a protective gesture.

"It’s not her fault," I said.

Before either sister could respond, I raised my right hand, palm facing upward. The air around us seemed to shift, becoming charged with an otherworldly energy. A dark green swirl of wind began to materialize above my palm, twisting and coiling like a living thing. The chain-like tattoo that normally remained hidden on my right arm began to reappear, glowing with the same dark green light as the wind. The luminescence spread along my entire arm, pulsing with power that made the air itself seem to vibrate.

The wind gathered around my arm with increasing intensity, and I felt the familiar transformation begin. My right arm became something more than flesh and bone – it became a weapon, a blade capable of destruction and creation in equal measure. The power thrummed through my veins, wild and barely contained.

Even Elena, who had seen glimpses of what I was capable of, had never witnessed this particular manifestation of my abilities. Her eyes widened in amazement and perhaps a touch of fear.

Alisha’s reaction was utter shock. Her eyes widened to impossible proportions, the color draining from her face as she witnessed something that defied every law of nature she had ever learned. She uncrossed her arms reflexively and stood up slowly from her position on the couch.

"This..." The word came out strangled, caught between disbelief and the undeniable evidence of her own eyes.

"I am not an ordinary guy," I said. The green glow pulsed brighter for a moment before I allowed it to dim slightly, not wanting to overwhelm her completely.

I reached over and gently grasped Elena’s hand, lifting it so that Alisha could see her wrist clearly. The infected bite mark from that terrible day had completely healed, leaving only the faintest trace of a scar – barely visible unless you knew exactly where to look.

"Do you remember the strange bite mark she had?" I asked, watching as recognition dawned in Alisha’s eyes.

Alisha nodded slowly, her throat working as she swallowed hard. Her gaze kept flickering between my glowing arm and Elena’s healed wrist, trying to process the impossible connection between the two.

"That day when she accompanied me to retrieve the shortwave radio from the director’s office," I continued, "she was bitten by one of the infected."

Alisha’s eyes widened even further, if that was possible, and she whipped her head around to stare at Elena, searching her sister’s face for confirmation or denial.

Elena nodded miserably, guilt written across every feature.

"She was dying," I continued, my voice gentle. "The infection was spreading through her system. She had maybe an hour before the transformation would have been complete and irreversible. I had to help her, and the only way I could do that was through... sex. I know how insane that sounds, but it’s the truth."

Alisha looked as if she might faint. She sat back down heavily on the couch, her legs no longer able to support her weight. Her brilliant mind – trained in advanced sciences and logical reasoning – was struggling to process information that challenged everything she believed about the world.

I took a deep breath and made the decision that would change everything between us. No more secrets, no more half-truths. If Alisha was going to be part of our group, if she was going to understand the danger her sister was in, she needed to know everything.

"There’s more," I said, and proceeded to explain it all.

I told her about the Dullahan Virus that coursed through my veins like liquid fire, a parasitic entity that had bonded with my very essence. I explained how it could destroy the Infected Virus within a woman through intimate contact, purging the corruption from her system but simultaneously introducing something new – a small portion of the Dullahan strain that created a permanent connection between us.

I described how this connection was both a blessing and a curse. While it cured the infected condition, it also created an ongoing dependency. Without regular contact with me, the women who carried this modified strain would experience severe mental deterioration. The virus would literally eat away at their sanity, leaving them as broken shells of their former selves. Only through repeated intimate contact could I stabilize the competing viral strains within their systems.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. I explained about the alien races that were hunting us, drawn by the unique viral signatures we carried. Our very existence was like a beacon in the darkness, calling to creatures from beyond our world who viewed us as either threats to be eliminated or prizes to be captured.

"The infected are drawn to us too," I continued, watching as Alisha’s face grew paler with each revelation. "Something about the combined viral presence makes us irresistible to them. Wherever we go, we bring chaos and danger with us."

When I finally finished speaking, the living room was silent except for the sound of Alisha’s rapid breathing. Her normally sharp, analytical mind had essentially short-circuited, unable to process the magnitude of the revelations I had just shared.

I couldn’t blame her for her reaction. The information I had just dumped on her was enough to break anyone’s understanding of reality. But I had wanted her to know the truth, all of it. As Elena’s sister, she deserved to understand the full scope of what was happening and why her sister had changed so dramatically in such a short time.

I had chosen to tell Alisha everything because I believed she was calm and level-headed enough to eventually understand and accept it. Unlike Rebecca, whose volatile personality made her a poor candidate for this knowledge, Alisha had always struck me as someone who could handle difficult truths with grace and rationality.

But looking at her now, sitting in stunned silence with her world view crumbling around her, I wondered if I had made the right choice. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss, and knowledge – even necessary knowledge – could be its own form of cruelty.

Elena moved closer to her sister, reaching out hesitantly. "Alya? Please say something."

I didn’t add anymore and chose to leave them alone and went back to my room.