Cole’s expression hardened.
Dax rose and positioned himself between Cole and the bed, not because he expected his brother to hurt her but because protecting her privacy had become instinctive.
“I kissed her back,” Dax continued. “I stopped before it went any further.”
“She is tethered to Rhen, destabilized, and barely in control of her body.”
“I know exactly what condition she is in.”
“Do you?”
Dax stepped closer.
“Watch your tone.”
Cole held his ground.
“I am not accusing her. I am asking whether you can remain in this room without allowing what you want to influence what she needs.”
The question struck because Dax had already asked it of himself.
“I called the medical team.”
Cole’s gaze returned to the bed.
Veya looked small beneath the blanket, although nothing about the woman he had briefly encountered suggested fragility would define her once the transition released its grip.
“She consented?”
“Yes.”
Cole’s anger lowered by a fraction.
“Then you should leave while they work.”
Dax’s expression darkened.
“I told her I would stay.”
“You also reek of each other, and her body is responding to every stimulus in the room. Give the medics space to determine what is transition, what is the tether, and what is you.”
Dax wanted to argue.
He wanted to be present when Veya woke, and he wanted his face to be the first one she saw rather than another stranger in a house filled with them. He also knew Cole was not entirely wrong.
The sound of hurried footsteps approached along the corridor.
Dax looked back at Veya.
“I will be outside.”
Her eyes remained closed, but her fingers moved faintly against the blanket as though searching for something no longer within reach.
He left before that movement broke what remained of his restraint.
As Dax passed, Cole shifted to block the open doorway from the corridor, shielding the bed from view.
“You are already in too deep,” Cole said quietly.
