Dax appeared at the far end of the hallway moments later, his expression hard and his body already prepared for violence.
“You’re on the door,” Rhen said.
Dax’s gaze moved beyond him toward Veya before returning.
“How unstable?”
“Stable enough to sleep. Not stable enough to trust.”
“Comforting.”
“If she wakes, contact me. If the medic calls for containment, get Malakai. No one else enters.”
Dax gave one curt nod.
“Got it.”
Rhen held his stare for another second, ensuring the order had landed exactly where it needed to.
Then he turned back to Mary.
“I won’t be far.”
Mary did not ask where he was going.
She already knew.
The night medic approached from the opposite end of the corridor carrying a case of supplies. Rhen waited until she entered the suite and confirmed that Veya remained stable.
Only then did he leave.
He moved through the colder corridors and the hush that had followed the heir’s birth, as though the fortress itself still listened for the scream that had brought him into the world.
* * *
The silence of the east wing pressed heavily around Rhen.
The hush following Sule’s departure felt less like peace and more like a void waiting to draw the remaining life from the house.
He did not want this duty.
He wanted steel.
Blood.
An enemy he could crush.
Instead, he reached Leena’s chamber and stopped at the threshold.
Fire murmured softly inside.
Leena sat in the chair near the hearth, a pale, fragile figure wrapped in warm light, her son sleeping against her chest.
She was Sule’s world.
The heart of the clan.
The only person who had ever looked directly at what Rhen was and loved him without pretending it made him better.
