“If you become a threat.”
His tone held no cruelty.
Cruelty would have required enjoyment.
This was simply law.
Veya looked toward the covered windows.
“What kind of threat?”
“The first hunger will not feel human. You will want blood. You may attack whoever is closest.”
Her gaze returned to him.
“You?”
“You would regret trying.”
Despite everything, a faint spark of disbelief moved across her face.
Rhen almost preferred it to the emptiness.
“When the hunger starts,” he continued, “you stay away from the door. You do not touch anyone who enters. You do exactly what you are told.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You already know the answer.”
Silence settled between them.
Veya’s lashes lowered.
Her body was weakening again, exhaustion dragging at the edges of her awareness.
“But I’m still here,” she whispered.
Rhen watched her without approaching.
“For now.”
Her eyes closed.
Within seconds, sleep pulled her under again.
Rhen remained at the foot of the bed until her breathing settled.
Then he left.
* * *
For the next two days, Veya drifted in and out of restless sleep while the final violence of the transition worked through her body.
Rhen returned more often than duty required.
He never crossed farther than the doorway or the far wall.
Each time she woke, he questioned her.
