Leena had never tried to make him feel human. She expected him to behave like a member of the clan and held him to it whether he snarled or not.
The unconscious woman in the bed was different. She had dragged him into an obligation he had never chosen and could no longer discard.
“I need something to do,” he muttered, flexing his hands at his sides as though he could physically break the tether’s hold.
Leena looked up.
“There is something.”
His attention cut to her.
“What?”
Leena rose slowly, one hand resting against the curve of her belly.
“I need you to fetch ward-grown valerian root and lavender. They won’t stop the transition, but they may take the edge off the fever and spasms.”
Rhen shook his head.
“Fuck that. I’m not leaving.”
“The east garden is directly outside this wing. You’ll be gone for minutes.”
“No.”
“You need to move before you tear this room apart, and she needs the herbs.”
“I never said I wanted to help her.”
“No. You gave her enough of your blood to begin a transition and then carried her through the wards. Your actions have already said more than you intended.”
His eyes burned with resistance.
Another convulsion tore through the woman on the bed.
The tether clenched visibly through him.
“Where?” he demanded.
“The sheltered beds beneath the eastern wall. Valerian root and lavender. Bring both.”
Rhen gave a tense nod.
“Fine. I’ll be quick.”
Leena turned toward the washstand.
A hard band of pressure tightened across her abdomen.
She faltered.
Only slightly, but it was enough.
Her breath hitched, one hand pressing firmly beneath the curve of her belly.
Rhen went still.
“What was that?”
