The plea caught inside a place Rhen had believed Leena’s death had sealed permanently.
He remained motionless for several seconds while the enemy upon his bed became something more immediate than suspicion or theory. She was a living body attempting to survive a force that was tearing her apart, and no amount of hatred changed the fact that she was suffering directly in front of him.
Her hand moved weakly across the blanket, searching for an anchor she could not see.
Rhen stepped closer.
“I do not know how to help you.”
The harshness of his voice made her flinch, although another wave of pain claimed her before fear could fully register.
Her spine arched, and a broken cry tore from her throat.
Rhen swore and lowered himself beside the bed. His hands hovered over her without touching, while the uncertainty of what to do sharpened his anger further.
He had been shaped into a weapon. He understood how to end lives, break threats, and make enemies regret surviving long enough to meet him.
He did not know how to repair a human body filled with an immortal storm.
“Tell me what you need,” he said. “Tell me how to stop it.”
Her lips moved, although the first attempt produced no sound.
“Sule.”
Rhen’s attention sharpened instantly.
“What did you say?”
Her eyes remained unfocused as another tremor moved through her.
“He is gone.”
The room appeared to tilt around him.
The heretic in the Quarter had known Sule was missing, and now this woman spoke his name while barely conscious.
Rhen placed his hand against her forehead before he considered the gesture. Her skin burned beneath his palm.
“You do not get to use his name without explaining how you know it.”
Her fingers found the front of his shirt and caught weakly in the fabric.
The contact locked every muscle in his body.
One instinct urged him to close his hand around her throat until she surrendered the truth. Another demanded that he hold her together until the pain released its grip.
He despised the second impulse more.
“You are going to survive this,” he said, forcing the words into the shape of an order. “You do not get to die after saving my brother.”
Her mouth moved again.
“Please.”
“Tell me how to stop it.”
She drew another ragged breath, and a second sound emerged from her as though a name were attempting to force its way through the fever.
