“And you remain alive.”
“I’m burning. I can’t think, and the tether is tearing through me.”
“And?”
The complete absence of concern in the word struck harder than open cruelty.
Veya stared at him.
“You don’t care.”
“No.”
“You made me.”
“I kept you from dying.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Rhen’s expression remained empty.
“No.”
Her voice rose.
“Then why did you do it? Why give me your blood, change everything I was, and leave me to drown in the consequences?”
“You were useful. Dying would have ended that.”
Veya stopped breathing through sheer habit.
“Useful for what?”
“That is not information you require.”
“I’m a person.”
“To yourself, perhaps.”
The answer moved through her like another physical blow.
Rhen stepped closer, not out of concern but because he had decided the distance no longer served him.
Veya held his stare.
“Is this because I’m not Leena?”
Every trace of stillness in him sharpened.
He crossed the remaining space before Veya could register the movement. One moment he stood several feet away, and the next his face was close enough for her to see the human blood darkening his mouth.
“Do not use her name.”
Veya flinched but refused to lower her gaze.
“Why? Because she is the only person who ever made you feel anything?”
“You are nothing like her.” His voice remained low and venomous. “Do not flatter yourself by turning this into a comparison.”
