“Will it always be this strong?”
Dax took his time before answering.
“It may weaken as your body stabilizes. It may change when we understand what the heretic magic did. I will not promise that it disappears because I do not know.”
“How long before it weakens?”
“Anyone who gives you a number is guessing.”
The honesty hurt, but less than false reassurance would have.
Veya looked toward him.
“You are choosing to be here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dax’s expression shifted.
For once, charm did not arrive to protect him from the question.
“Because I want you again.”
Heat moved through her despite everything.
Dax continued.
“I want to know who you were before Rhen found you. I want to hear you laugh when you are not fighting pain, and I want to see what you become when nobody else is trying to define you.”
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.
“I want to touch you again badly enough that remaining in this bed is becoming a questionable decision.”
Veya’s lips parted.
Dax looked away before desire erased the reason he needed to leave.
“And because the thought of abandoning you inside this mess makes me violent.”
Her eyes stung, but she refused the tears.
“Will you always choose me over the tether?”
“The tether does not get a vote.”
Veya allowed that answer to settle.
Dax pushed himself from the bed and began dressing.
She tightened the sheet around herself.
“Where are you going?”
“The others will be reconvening in the war room. We attack before dawn, and I need the final plan.”
“What about this?”
