Dax held his ground.
“We do not know what you will do. That is the problem.”
Rhen stood so quickly that Cole straightened despite the pain in his body.
“I owe none of you an explanation.”
“Nobody asked for one,” Dax said.
A whimper came from the bed.
Rhen’s attention broke from his brothers immediately.
He crossed the distance and dropped beside the mattress. His hand moved damp hair away from the witch’s forehead before he appeared to realize he had touched her.
His fingers stopped near her cheek.
“Fuck.”
The brothers exchanged a glance behind him.
They had seen Rhen tend injuries and preserve lives when necessity demanded it. They had almost never seen his hands move with unconscious care.
“She is not dying here,” Rhen said.
Malakai waited until Rhen looked toward him.
We are not questioning that. We did not expect this.
“What you expected is irrelevant.”
Rhen returned his attention to the bed.
“She saved Cole. That is all.”
Dax nodded once.
“All right.”
“Then leave.”
They did not argue.
The door closed softly behind them.
Rhen remained beside the witch.
He did not understand why each sound of pain struck him as though it had crossed his own skin, or why the possibility of her dying in his bed awakened something so violently opposed to the idea.
“You will survive this,” he said.
His hand rested briefly upon her shoulder.
The gesture felt less foreign than it should have.
That frightened him more than the war gathering outside the stronghold.
* * *
