Chapter 33
Years earlier, the heavy war-room doors had opened beneath Leena’s hand.
She entered to find Sule and Rhen standing nearly chest to chest in the center of the room. Fury filled the space between them, although Sule’s anger came through motion and volume while Rhen’s existed in the dangerous stillness of a predator deciding whether restraint remained useful.
“You disobeyed a direct order,” Sule said. “Do you understand what was at stake?”
“I understood perfectly.” Rhen’s voice remained low. “You hesitated. I did not.”
“You are not judge and executioner.”
“You were not there.”
Leena crossed the threshold with the belt of her robe tied loosely around her waist. Herbs and sandalwood followed her into the room.
“That is enough.”
Neither male acknowledged her.
Rhen’s jaw flexed. Sule’s hands remained clenched.
Leena stepped between them.
“I said that is enough. If the two of you insist upon destroying the war room, wait until a reasonable hour so the rest of us can sleep through it.”
Sule’s attention shifted to her.
For several seconds, he appeared prepared to continue the argument. Then he looked at Rhen once more and disappeared before anger could turn into something more destructive.
Rhen remained where he was.
Leena folded her arms.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.”
“I assumed not. Would you prefer to break something?”
He gave no answer.
Leena moved closer until she stood directly before him.
“Then do me a favor and unclench your hands before you fracture your own bones.”
Rhen did not look down.
Several moments passed before his fingers gradually loosened.
Leena touched his damaged knuckles.
“You are not invincible.”
“I am when necessary.”
“You are not alone either.”
His eyes moved to hers, cold and tired in a way he permitted nobody else to witness.
Leena smiled.
“I know you are mocking me behind that expression.”
Rhen blinked once with slow disdain.
“There you are,” she said.
The memory dissolved.
* * *
The present-day war room held none of Leena’s warmth.
Rhen stood over the central map with his fingers resting near the marked heretic positions. Reports, guard rotations, and known safehouse locations covered the table.
Cole occupied the opposite side. Malakai stood where both brothers could see his hands.
Dax entered quietly and closed the door behind him.
Rhen did not look up.
“The fledgling has settled?”
Dax’s expression hardened.
“Veya is stable for now.”
“Then she remains contained.”
Dax moved toward the table.
“She is not a prisoner.”
Rhen’s silver gaze lifted.
“She is heretic-tainted, unpredictable, and attached to this house through an unstable tether. Choose whichever softer word helps you sleep.”
Malakai raised his hands.
Are you leaving her management entirely to Dax?
“Yes.”
Dax stared at him.
Rhen continued before he could answer.
“He has decided she matters. That makes him useful.”
“To whom?” Dax asked.
“To me.”
The answer carried no embarrassment.
Rhen returned his attention to the map.
“Keep her functional and away from the perimeter. I do not care what else you do with her.”
Cole’s gaze moved briefly between the brothers.
“Can we focus on the larger problem?”
Nobody argued.
Cole indicated the unanswered reports.
“Sule’s contacts have heard nothing. His secondary properties are empty, and no guard has seen him return through the main routes.”
Dax folded his arms.
“Mary says his personal blade is missing.”
Malakai signed, The council has demanded another audience. They know something is wrong.
“A king does not disappear while his borders are being tested,” Cole said.
Rhen’s expression did not change.
“He is not acting as king.”
Dax looked toward Sule’s empty chair.
“He believes there may be a way to return Leena.”
“He believes what he needs to believe,” Rhen replied.
Cole’s mouth tightened.
“A few days ago, this house was stable.”
“A few days ago, Leena was alive,” Dax said.
Silence gathered around her name.
Malakai indicated the heretic position marked upon the map.
If Sule approached them voluntarily, they may be waiting for us to weaken ourselves searching for him.
Cole’s gaze remained on the marked district.
“We need to stop speaking about them as though every threat is separate.”
Dax looked toward him.
“Marcella. Diablo Levélle. The controlled rogues. X.”
Cole nodded once.
“Marcella is Diablo Levélle’s public blade in this city.
She does not rule the whole coven, but whatever they are building in New Orleans moves through her.
The rogues answer to her handlers, not to hunger.
The male in the street was one of her bound captains, which means the attack on Cole was not random pressure. It was command.”
Malakai’s hands moved with controlled precision.
And X?
Cole’s expression tightened.
“If he is alive, then Marcella either has him or has what he learned before disappearing. Either way, his silence belongs on the same board.”
Dax looked at the map, then toward Sule’s empty chair.
“And if Sule went to the heretics for answers, he did not walk into a scattered nest of witches.”
“No,” Cole said. “He walked toward Diablo Levélle.”
“Then we stop waiting,” Rhen said.
Cole studied him.
“You intend to lead the assault without Sule.”
“I intend to destroy the threat before it reaches Norse.”
Malakai’s hands moved more sharply.
Without Sule’s authority, the council may challenge every decision we make.
“They can challenge the ashes afterward.”
Dax approached the table.
“How soon?”
“Before dawn.”
Cole looked toward the stronghold layout.
“We seal the inner grounds, increase the nursery guard, and keep the civilians away from every exterior corridor.”
Malakai nodded.
The diversion remains viable. A smaller unit draws defenders toward the southern approach while the main team enters from the east.
Rhen studied the route.
“I take point.”
Cole’s brow lifted.
“That is the most exposed position.”
“Yes.”
The answer ended the discussion.
Rhen looked toward each brother.
“Leave nothing standing that can be used against Norse. Marcella stays alive until we know where Sule went and what she offered him.”
Dax’s attention remained on the empty chair.
“And if he made a deal?”
Rhen’s fingers tightened against the edge of the table.
“Then we determine its terms.”
Nothing in his face revealed what he would do if those terms required accepting Leena’s death for a second time.
* * *
Veya sat on the edge of the bed when Dax returned.
She had bathed and changed into a dark robe, but her hair remained damp and uncombed around her shoulders. The fever had receded, leaving her eyes clear and her movements steady.
Dax closed the door.
“You should be resting.”
“I have spent enough time unconscious.”
He remained near the door.
Veya watched him.
“What happened?”
“We attack before dawn.”
Her expression changed.
“You are going.”
“Yes.”
“And Rhen?”
“He is leading.”
Veya looked away.
Dax saw the tension enter her shoulders at the sound of his brother’s name.
“You do not have to discuss him.”
“I do.”
She tightened the robe around herself.
“I never wanted Rhen. I need you to understand that.”
“I do understand.”
“The tether makes me aware of him, and sometimes my body reacts before I can stop it. That makes me feel as though I am betraying something when I want you.”
Dax crossed the room but stopped several feet away.
“You cannot betray a connection you never chose.”
Her gaze rose.
“What happened between us was real?”
“Yes.”
“You are certain?”
“I know the difference between wanting a woman and responding to someone else’s magic.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“You are surprisingly decent for a male carrying that many weapons.”
“Do not spread that around.”
The tension between them softened.
Dax sat beside her but left space between their bodies.
“I do not regret last night.”
“Neither do I.”
“It remains complicated.”
“I know.”
Veya looked down at her hands.
“If I am tethered to Rhen, does that mean you and I cannot continue?”
“We do not know what another male’s blood would do while his tether is active. I will not feed you or bite you until we understand the risk.”
“That was not quite what I asked.”
Dax turned toward her.
“No. The tether does not decide whether I touch you.”
Veya’s eyes held his.
“And what do you decide?”
“That I want you.”
The answer settled between them.
Dax continued before speed could become pressure.
“I also want to know you when neither of us is naked, furious, or surrounded by imminent death.”
“That sounds less interesting.”
“It probably will be.”
Veya laughed quietly.
Dax’s gaze dropped to her mouth.
The sound disappeared.
Veya saw the change in him.
“What are you thinking?”
He attempted to look away and failed.
“That I want you again.”
“How badly?”
His eyes darkened.
“Badly enough that you should not ask unless you want an honest answer.”
Veya rose from the bed and crossed the small distance between them.
The tether remained quiet beneath her ribs. Her thoughts were clear, and no pain drove her movement.
She stopped directly before him.
“Give me the honest answer.”
Dax stood.
“That I want to strip that robe from you and make certain you remember exactly who you chose.”
Heat moved through Veya, but this time it belonged entirely to her.
“Then do it.”
Dax searched her expression.
Veya placed both hands against his chest.
“I want you, Dax.”
He believed her.
His restraint ended.
He caught her waist and kissed her with enough force to drive them both back a step. Veya opened the robe herself, pushing it from her shoulders while his mouth remained upon hers.
The fabric fell around her feet.
Dax looked at her as though every weapon he had ever carried had become useless.
Veya caught the front of his shirt.
“You are wearing too much.”
“That can be corrected.”
He removed it, and she ran both hands across his chest before pulling him back to her.
The second kiss carried none of the uncertainty of the first night.
Veya remained fully present, meeting every movement with her own and directing him whenever patience became unbearable.
He lifted her, and she wrapped both legs around his hips before he carried her to the bed.
Dax lowered her onto the mattress and followed, supporting his weight above her.
“I cannot promise gentle.”
“I did not ask for gentle.”
The answer moved through him with a force that had nothing to do with the tether and everything to do with the woman beneath him. Dax kissed her again, slower this time, letting the urgency remain without allowing it to take the shape of proof.
They had already proven what mattered.
She had chosen him in crisis, and she chose him again now with the compound sharpening itself for war beyond the guest-suite walls.
His mouth moved over her skin, avoiding the place where Rhen’s blood had entered her life. Veya’s hands slid over his shoulders and into his hair, drawing him closer with a certainty that needed no further interrogation.
No blood passed between them.
No fangs broke skin.
No magic answered in the dark.
Whatever happened next belonged only to them.
Later, when the room had quieted and the fire had burned lower, Dax remained wrapped around her with his mouth resting against the back of her neck. He waited until her body settled fully against his before speaking.
“You alright?”
Veya turned inside his arms.
“More than all right.”
Dax kissed her again, this time without urgency.
Beyond the guest-suite walls, the clan prepared for war.
Inside, Dax and Veya had accelerated past caution and into something neither could yet name. It was fast, reckless, and complicated by almost every force surrounding them.
It was also real.