Taeryn wanted to call his papa.
He wanted answers. Real ones. He wanted Sangwon to look him in the eye and tell him which truths were lies and which lies were protection.
He wasn't naïve. He understood why Sangwon would lie.
There were many reasons. Like to keep him safe, to keep him obedient, to keep him from doing something reckless and irreversible.
His papa had raised him to be a killer, after all. Had sharpened his impulses, fed them, given them purpose.
Kill the trash of the world.
That had always been enough.
But now...
Taeryn's gaze slid back to Rihan.
Rihan was still trying to call, his thumb tapping the screen over and over, frustration tightening his jaw.
That crease between his brows, the one that only showed when he was overwhelmed, made something in Taeryn's chest twist.
He stood. Crossed the room. Caught Rihan's wrist mid-movement.
Rihan looked up sharply. "What are—"
"We should go to bed," Taeryn said calmly. Too calmly.
