Chapter 32
The fire had burned down to low coals by the time Dax trusted himself to move.
Veya remained tucked against his side with one cheek resting upon his chest. Her dark hair spread across his skin and the pillow, while one hand held loosely to the fabric at his waist as though she had forgotten she was still touching him.
The room carried the evidence of what they had done in the sheets, upon his skin, and in the raw marks her nails had left across his back.
Dax stared at the ceiling.
He had crossed the room intending to protect Veya from another decision made while her body was compromised. Instead, she had looked directly at him, answered every question, and chosen him with a certainty that had destroyed his final excuse for distance.
He did not regret it.
That might have been the most dangerous part.
Veya shifted closer, her nose brushing the base of his throat.
“Are you awake?” Dax asked.
“No.”
“That is an impressive answer for an unconscious woman.”
Her mouth moved faintly against his skin.
“I’m practicing.”
Dax looked down at her.
The feverish color had begun to recede from her face. Her body remained warm, but the violent tremors had eased into occasional shivers. None of that proved the tether had resolved, and he would not insult either of them by pretending sex had repaired it.
“How do you feel?”
Veya took time before answering.
“Sore.”
“That is partly my fault.”
“Only partly.”
His expression tightened.
“The tether is still there?”
“Yes.”
She lifted her head enough to look at him.
“It is quieter, but I can still feel it.”
Dax did not ask whether she could feel Rhen. The answer would accomplish nothing except give his brother space inside the bed.
Veya studied his face.
“You think I regret it.”
“I think you survived a transformation, sedation, a confrontation with Rhen, and another tether episode before choosing to have sex while your body is still trying to decide what it has become.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds irresponsible.”
“It was catastrophically irresponsible.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly for either of them to misunderstand.
Veya’s expression softened.
“Neither do I.”
Dax searched her face.
“You knew who I was?”
“Yes.”
“You knew it was not going to cure you?”
“Yes.”
“You wanted me rather than simply wanting the pain to stop?”
Veya pushed herself higher against him.
“I knew whose mouth I was kissing, Dax.”
His hand settled against the back of her neck.
“That was not quite the question.”
“I wanted you in the garden. I wanted you when you brought me blood and tried to convince me black coffee was a character flaw. I wanted you before Rhen fed me, and I wanted you after he told me I meant nothing.”
Her gaze remained steady.
“I did not sleep with you because he rejected me. There was nothing between Rhen and me to reject.”
Some tension left Dax’s shoulders.
Veya noticed.
“You were worried about that.”
“I was worried the tether had taken another choice from you and dressed it in my face.”
“It didn’t.”
Dax brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
“Good.”
The word held more emotion than he intended.
Veya rested her head against him again.
“What happens now?”
Dax looked toward the dying hearth.
“The medical staff examine you once you are ready. We determine whether the symptoms are returning. We continue trying to understand what Rhen’s blood did to you.”
“I meant between us.”
He became still.
Veya waited.
Dax had spent centuries escaping questions more threatening than this one with charm, violence, or a strategic retreat. None of those options felt acceptable while she lay against him.
“I want to know you,” he said. “I want considerably more than tonight, which is inconvenient because everything around you is unstable enough without me wanting anything at all.”
“That does seem fast.”
“Extremely.”
“Does it frighten you?”
“Yes.”
Veya smiled against his chest.
“That sounded painful to admit.”
“It was excruciating.”
She traced one finger over his skin.
“I don’t know what I can promise.”
“I am not asking for promises.”
“What are you asking for?”
Dax tightened his arm around her.
“The next choice.”
Veya considered that before nodding.
“I can give you that.”
Outside the room, the stronghold remained fractured by Leena’s death, Sule’s disappearance, and a war gathering beyond its damaged defenses. Rhen still considered Veya currency, and the maker tether remained buried inside her like an unanswered threat.
None of those dangers disappeared because she lay in Dax’s arms.
For the moment, however, Veya had chosen where she wanted to be, and Dax had no intention of pretending that choice meant less because it had been made inside disaster.