Alone, he tore the blood bag open with his teeth and dragged it to his mouth.
The first swallow hit like a blow to the gut—metallic, thick, and copper-hot. Warmth spread through his veins, cutting into the hunger that had been tearing at him for hours.
For one brief, brutal moment, there was relief.
His breathing steadied.
His vision sharpened.
Even the tether’s pressure eased enough to stop screaming through his nerves.
When the bag was empty, he crushed it in his fist and flung it into the bin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, waited until control locked firmly back into place, then opened the door and returned to the room.
What the fuck—
Chapter 7
Leena stood near the bed, gripping the back of a chair so tightly her knuckles had blanched white. Her face was drained of color, her skin slick with sweat, dark lashes clumped as she fought to breathe through shallow, ragged gasps.
Every sharp inhale betrayed the pain she was failing to contain.
“Leena?”
Rhen’s voice came out harsher than intended, thick with something he despised recognizing.
Fear.
He was beside her in an instant, instinct overriding thought. One second she stood across the room; the next his hand was firm against her shoulder, his body angled between her and the rest of the chamber as though the danger had a physical shape he could confront.
“What is happening?”
She tried to smile.
Gods, she tried.
It collapsed when another brutal wave of pain tore through her. Her body jolted, breath ripping from her lungs as her fingers closed around Rhen’s arm. She folded forward with a strangled gasp, her weight pitching toward him.
“Rhen.” Her voice barely carried. “I—I’m scared.”
Something inside him fractured.
A curse hissed between his teeth, vicious and cold.
He was not supposed to let it show. The feeling itself was old, unwanted, and useless. Acting upon it had never been an option.
He loved her.
The knowledge was repulsive to him and quietly understood by every male in the clan. Leena belonged to Sule—in heart, blood, and choice. Rhen’s loyalty made that boundary absolute.
But none of those truths stopped fear from cutting through him when her knees failed.
He caught her and pulled her against his chest, one hand spread between her shoulder blades, the other bracing her weight.
Her skin burned beneath his touch.
Rhen lowered his mouth once to her damp hairline, the gesture escaping before discipline could stop it.
“I know,” he said, his voice raw. “I know.”
