Trevor exhaled, slow and tight. "He's been used his entire life. I won't be another name on that list."
Dax finally leaned back, lifting his glass again, swirling the wine without drinking. "Then don't be."
He held Trevor's gaze as the lantern light caught the deep purple in his eyes. "Mark him. Don't make it about rut or territory or fear. Tell him the truth. Tell him what you know. About Agatha. About Christian. About what he was nearly sold into."
Trevor's jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. "That truth could break him."
"No," Dax said, his voice cutting through the space between them. "Keeping it from him will."
There was silence then, the kind that didn't weigh heavy, but sharp. Like the edge of a sword being pressed, gently, to a throat.
"You want to give him a choice?" Dax continued. "Then give him all of it. Let him react first. Let him fight, if he wants to. Let him run, if he needs to. But let him decide what happens next."
