“You’re different from him.”
Dax did not pretend to misunderstand.
“I’m not Rhen.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“No, but it is the only comparison you can make right now.”
She considered that before giving a faint nod.
Dax rose without approaching the bed.
“Finish that one before the hunger gets sharp again. The second stays here.”
Veya’s attention shifted to the door.
“Are you going to tell him?”
“I expect he’ll find out without my help.”
Something apprehensive crossed her face.
Dax paused.
“You did nothing wrong by drinking what your body needs.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll see it that way.”
“He knows you require blood.”
“He knows a lot of things he doesn’t seem to like.”
Dax could not argue with that.
He reached for the empty outer wrapping beside the table, and a small amount of blood from the opened seal smeared across his fingers.
At the door, he looked back.
Veya’s posture had eased against the headboard, and the frantic brightness in her gaze had dulled into exhausted alertness.
“Dax?”
He waited.
“Thank you.”
His smile was small and restrained.
“Don’t make a habit of saying that. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Veya rolled her eyes, but the faint warmth remained in her expression.
Dax closed the door behind him more gently than the stronghold deserved and headed toward the main room to give his brothers the report from Bar X.
Chapter 17
Dax sat at the long oak table in the center of the main room with his elbows spread and a faint smear of blood drying across his fingers. He had carried Veya’s empty bag downstairs without noticing that the opened seal had leaked against his hand, leaving dark residue in the creases of his knuckles.
