I followed her as she headed toward the equipment room, a small space off the main corridor where photographers stored their gear between sessions. She was moving fast, trying to put distance between us.
I was faster.
The door clicked shut behind us and suddenly we were alone. The space was cramped, lined with shelves of camera equipment and lighting gear. Reina was already at the far end, her back to me as she fumbled with her camera bag.
"You've been spending time with Vale," I said.
Her shoulders stiffened but she didn't turn around. "I photographed the Frost Kings yesterday. It's my job."
"That's not what I'm talking about."
She finally faced me, her expression carefully neutral. "Then what are you talking about?"
"I can smell him all over you, Pretty Girl." I moved closer, deliberately slow. "What did he do?"
"Nothing."
"Liar." Another step. "His scent is concentrated here." I gestured to her neck. "And here." Her wrists. "That doesn't happen from a professional photo shoot."
Her jaw tightened. "It's none of your business what Luca and I..."
"Did he hurt you?"
The question came out harder than I meant it to, sharp with an edge of violence. My hands were already curling into fists, ready to put Vale through a wall if she said yes.
"No," she said quickly. "No, he didn't hurt me."
"Did he touch you?"
She didn't answer right away and that hesitation told me everything.
"Reina." I was right in front of her now, close enough to see the way her pupils were dilated, the way her breathing had gone shallow. "Tell me."
"Why do you care?" The words came out defensive. "You haven't seen me in twelve years. You don't get to..."
"Don't get to what? Be pissed that Vale got his hands on you first?" I leaned in, bracing one hand on the shelf beside her head. "That he touched you when I've been looking for you for over a fucking decade?"
Her eyes widened. "You looked for me?"
"Of course I fucking looked for you." The admission came out raw. "You think I just moved on? You think I didn't turn this entire city upside down trying to find you? Your mom wouldn't tell me shit. Wouldn't even confirm you were alive."
Something in her expression cracked. "Jaxon..."
"You're breaking down," I said, changing tactics. My eyes tracked over her face, noting the dark circles, the exhaustion, the way she was practically vibrating with tension. "Your suppressants are failing."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're barely holding it together." I could smell it now, the way her body was rejecting the chemicals. "How long have they been failing?"
"It's under control."
"Like hell it is."
Before she could protest, I pulled her close. Not rough, not demanding, just gathering her against my chest and letting my scent wrap around her. Her body went rigid for exactly three seconds.
Then she melted into me.
A soft sound escaped her throat, something between a sigh and a whimper. Her hands came up to clutch at my shirt and her scent bloomed, unrestrained and desperate. For a moment, she just breathed me in, her body recognizing what her mind was still fighting.
