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.”
