Chapter 27
The temperature of the room seemed to fall before Rhen entered.
The door opened without haste, and he stepped into the guest suite dressed entirely in black. His expression held the blank predatory calm that signaled violence was not merely possible but already being measured.
His gaze moved once across the room.
He registered the medical staff, the discarded syringe, Veya’s sedated body, Cole standing near the bed, and Malakai positioned beside the wardrobe.
Then he drew in a breath.
The room smelled of transition heat, blood, arousal, and Dax.
Rhen’s face remained unchanged. The mixture represented neither betrayal nor romantic provocation. It was simply another complication attached to a problem that had already consumed more of his time than he considered reasonable.
“What happened?”
Cole faced him.
“The symptoms returned after you left. Dax stayed with her until the medical team arrived.”
Rhen looked at Veya as though she were damaged equipment awaiting assessment.
“She is alive.”
“For now.”
“Then the medication worked.”
Cole’s restraint began to fracture.
“She needed someone with her because you vanished again.”
Rhen’s silver gaze shifted toward him.
“I had already fed her.”
“And when the effects failed?”
“You called the medics.”
Cole stepped forward.
“You created the tether.”
“I preserved something potentially useful. The tether was an unintended consequence.”
Malakai raised his hands where both brothers could see.
The stored blood fed her, but it did not stop the reaction. The medic believes she may require your blood again when the sedative wears off.
Rhen’s attention returned to Veya.
Her temperature had begun to fall. The tremors beneath the blanket were smaller, and the sedative had quieted the habitual rise and fall of her chest.
“She smells like Dax,” Rhen said.
Cole’s expression sharpened.
“He stayed because she asked him to.”
“That sounds like his mistake.”
“She kissed him.”
Rhen showed no reaction.
“Then his judgment is worse than I thought.”
Cole stared at him.
“That is all you have to say?”
“What exactly would satisfy you? She is not my mate, lover, or responsibility beyond the value of what was attached to her when I found her.”
“You made her.”
“I kept her from dying.”
“Because she was useful.”
“Yes.”
The immediate answer stripped the last ambiguity from the room.
Rhen approached the foot of the bed but did not touch it.
Veya appeared pale beneath the remaining flush. Her body had finally become still enough for the medical staff to begin closing their case.
Rhen watched only long enough to confirm that she remained alive.
“If Dax wants to babysit her, let him. It changes nothing about what she is here for.”
Cole’s voice dropped.
“She is not an object.”
“To you, perhaps.”
The lead medic paused while fastening the case.
“If the symptoms return when the sedative wears off, she will likely require more of your blood.”
Rhen looked at the medic.
“Call me if stored blood fails.”
“She may deteriorate quickly.”
“Then call once, and make certain the interruption is necessary.”
The medic’s expression tightened, but professionalism kept the response neutral.
“Understood.”
Rhen turned toward the door.
Cole moved into his path.
“You do not care whether she survives.”
“I care whether she remains useful.”
“And if she does not?”
Rhen met his gaze.
“Then the problem resolves itself.”
Nothing in his face suggested grief had driven him to cruelty or that pain had made him say something he did not mean.
This was not Rhen lashing out.
This was Rhen stating the truth.
Malakai studied him before signing, Leena believed there was more inside you than this.
The room became dangerously still.
Rhen’s gaze moved to him with enough coldness to silence most creatures.
“Leena is dead.”
He walked around Cole and left.
The door closed behind him.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Malakai’s hands eventually moved.
He meant every word.
Cole looked at Veya sleeping beneath the blanket.
“I know.”
That knowledge was worse than believing Rhen had cracked beneath the grief. A broken male might eventually return to himself.
Rhen had simply shown them what had always existed beneath Leena’s singular exception.