Her Healing Warrior Read online

  And most terribly of all, her lips were curled in an awful silver-painted smile.

  “Healer Majari.” Lady Idria’s eyebrows arched in surprise as she saw me take my place behind Kloran and Haelian. “How…unexpected. When I heard of the little human you all had rescued, I assumed that Head Healer Adskow would be taking over all duties involving her care.”

  “Adskow does not have the time nor the energy to provide round-the-clock care for a patient,” I explained. Seeing Idria made my blood boil, but I was careful not to let my eyes convey that to her. She had specter eyes, same as all of her agents: dyed a permanent black in a horrible ritual to prevent giving away how she truly felt. I would not give her the pleasure of seeing mine shift to red at the sight of her, though I had great reason to feel fury. We all did.

  “Kloran? Haelian? Did you not think it appropriate to provide our new captive with a more experienced healer?”

  “Coplan is more than experienced enough for the task,” Kloran said in my defense.

  “The human is not a captive, and Coplan has the most rapport with her,” Haelian added. “And as he said, we must keep Adskow free in case of attack. He is the correct choice.”

  I appreciated their kind words toward me but resented that they needed be said at all. I could fight my own battles with Idria if she doubted me. I did not need my superiors to do so in my stead.

  “But he is so green, Generals, do you not think? So little time has passed since he was but a warrior himself. Not to mention that he is so young. Handsome.” Idria’s tongue flicked in the corner of her mouth. Her smile did not wane. “If it were up to me, I would fear for the human’s safety, being left in such close quarters with such a virile, youthful male.”

  “I have no such intentions toward my patient.” I had to suppress a groan at her words. For a female whose job was meant to be leading the Lunarian intelligence forces, did she think of nothing but mating and sex? “The human’s safety is assured.”

  “I am happy to hear that, Coplan. And what of her health? My little ghosts tell me that she was taken from a Rutharian stronghold. Did they ruin her there, or did she manage to make it out with all of her limbs still attached and her teeth in her mouth?”

  I gritted my own teeth. The way she spoke of Savii, as though my patient was some kind of animal, did not bode well for the rest of this conversation.

  “She is healing. That is what is important.” Kloran waved Idria’s concerns away with a flick of his fingers.

  “But perhaps more important right now,” Haelian jumped in, “is what you want, Idria. We have a ship to run and no time to play your ridiculous games.”

  “No games, Generals,” Idria cooed. “If the human’s health is improving, then I am pleased. Though, not as pleased as I will be when she is sent back to Earth where she belongs.”

  I bit back a growl. Of course, that was Idria’s true desire. When Kloran had first brought Bria to Lunaria as his bride, she had been welcomed as nothing short of a goddess. Our planet’s salvation. But thanks to Idria’s resentment when Haelian took his Sawyer for a mate as well, the tides had since been turned against further humans in our midst. She had stirred ill will toward them among the High Ladies, sowing jealousy with her every word. Now, Lunaria would be a dangerous place for Savii to reside, no matter how much she may have wished to see my homelands.

  Where the other humans we had rescued had been given the chance to make lives among my people, Idria was now making it clear that for Savii, her only option was to return home.

  “We do not know that Earth will be safe for the humans we return there.” Kloran was doing his best to keep his voice level, but it was not his strong suit. “Those who are abducting them are obviously hand-picking females from Earth’s flocks. How can we be sure that if she is returned to Earth, she is not merely taken again—this time, to somewhere more difficult to recover her from?”

  “True,” Idria allowed. “But how do we know she will be safe on Lunaria? It is illegal to keep human slaves, General, and for an unmated human female, Lunaria’s political sphere could prove to be…treacherous.”

  “A treachery of your own doing,” Haelian was quick to remind her. “We are aware of the dangers. My own mate is human, Idria. Have you already forgotten?”

  Idria’s eyes twitched. Haelian had gotten under her skin. Once, she had sought to take Haelian for a mate herself—a desire that had been dashed when the human Sawyer turned his heart instead.

  “Be that as it may. It would be unwise to burden Lunaria with another refugee. You do not wish to add fuel to that fire, do you?” Idria shrugged. “I am merely suggesting that, if the human is healthy, her place is among her own people. Though, given the species of your wives, Generals, I can see why you would struggle to agree.”

  “The human is not healthy,” I corrected her. “She is only healing. Surely this talk of where she will go once she is well again can be tabled until she no longer requires care?”

  “Oh, Coplan. You poor thing. Do not think I do not know exactly what happens to humans who remain in the care of warriors aboard your ship.” Idria’s smile broadened, but it did not meet her eyes. “Of course, I cannot prevent you fierce soldiers from seducing this one as you have the rest, but I feel I should warn you that you will need to suspend your rescue efforts of further humans from here on out. I have a team of my own specters who will be recovering any remaining stragglers in the galaxies, seeing as you all are unable to save even one without finding some way to keep her.”

  “That is not your place,” Kloran warned her. “You have no right to determine the missions of this ship.”

  Idria laughed. “But the High Council does. And they have, General. A vote was taken shortly before you left. Such a shame that you set off before the ruling could be passed onto you.”

  Kloran and Haelian exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance as if they were trying to decide whether or not to call her bluff.

  Then, Haelian called it. “If the High Council wishes for us to discontinue our mission, we will take it from them ourselves—not from a potentially unreliable messenger.”

  “Unreliable?” Idria laughed again, pressing her long, black-lacquered claws to her collarbone. “Oh, Haelian. You do wound me.”

  “Then seek out your own healer,” Kloran told her. “Until we receive such word from the High Council, we will continue on our course.”

  “And I will continue on mine.” Idria turned her black gaze to me again. “Healer Majari, might I speak with you privately?”

  “Anything you say to me, you can say to my generals as well.” I crossed my arms over my chest, standing firm. “You are not my superior, Lady Idria. I have sworn you no oath and take no orders from you.”

  Idria sniffed as though my defiance was a small annoyance for her. “It was not an order. Merely a request. As a show of goodwill, it would be wise for your commanders to accept it.”

  Kloran and Haelian shared another look, then rose. Each clapped me on the shoulder as they took their leave.

  Apparently, they needed Idria’s goodwill more than I had imagined.

  “Good luck,” Kloran said beneath his breath.

  Haelian patted me on the back. “You likely will need it.”

  The two of them might have been easily swayed, but I cared little for fostering the whims of a snake like Lady Idria. The fact that Kloran and Haelian were still forced to hold audiences with her at all was proof of the corruption in the High Council and beyond. I heavily suspected that she had been behind a Rutharian raid on the royal palace in the capital, as well a number of other indiscretions. Jeorkanian ships entering Lunarian airspace, which had nearly led to the kidnapping of Kloran’s own wife. An act of mutiny by a traitor that had put Nion’s mate—and my friend—Alyse in danger. A slew of guards abandoning their positions at the most inconvenient moment possible and Rutharian dreadnoughts being tipped off to our position just when we thought we had the upper hand for attack—Lady Idria held all t
he strings of Lunaria’s intelligence corps, and she tugged them at will with the intent of leading us to our doom at every turn.

  And now, I was being forced to answer to her in private.

  I clenched my jaw and stared her down, bristling at the very thought.

  “You do not need to fear me, Coplan Majari.” Idria must have seen the tension in my body as I stood before her projection. “You are a proud warrior and, from what I have heard, a fair healer.”

  “That is not what you implied just a few moments ago,” I pointed out. Green, she had called me—and now, she sought to flatter. What a wicked web she wove.

  “Politics, my darling. You saved my agent Daran’s hand once when you were in training, you know. He spoke fondly of you when I informed him he would replace the agent Apex aboard this ship.”

  I did not recall saving Daran’s hand, but I could remember a dozen such procedures that I had carried out in the field. As little as I welcomed Daran’s presence here on the ship in Apex’s place, it was possible. And knowing that our resident specter, despite being under Idria’s thumb, was in my debt was a useful thing.

  But why was she telling me of this? Why now?

  “I am not here to order you, Coplan. As you said, you are not beholden to my words.” Idria chuckled to herself. “I merely wish to learn more about the human’s status. Savannah, her name is. Correct?”

  Savii, I nearly told her. Her friends call her Savii. But Idria did not need to know Savii’s nickname, nor anything else about her if I could help it.

  Savii was not a pet, and Idria did not own her any more than anyone else did.

  “I have told you her status already. What more do you wish to know?”

  “How soon will she be well again? We simply must get her back to her home planet, Coplan. When can her mind be wiped so she can return to Earth?”

  I considered the question carefully. I did not like the idea of sending Savii back to a planet where she would once again be defenseless against additional abductions, but I also knew that these were questions Savii would likely want answered herself.

  “She is healing.” That was my professional opinion and as close to the truth as I was willing to get. “It will take time.”

  “How much time?”

  I raised my palms up solemnly, like I was praying to our gods. “Only the moon knows.”

  It was hard not to smirk as Idria was forced to mirror my motion and echo my words.

  “Only the moon knows—but the sooner, the better, Healer Majari. Rush her, if you can.”

  “I cannot.” That was a strict truth. No embellishment or concealment there. “Wiping her mind before she is ready would lead to memories of her time beyond Earth resurfacing. There is a chance she would remember all of it—every brutality she has faced and every bit of information about non-human lifeforms she has gleaned. The other humans would think her mad—or worse, they might actually believe her.”

  “Would that be so bad? Perhaps it’s time Earth realized what fortunes might await them in the stars,” Idria said with a glint in her eyes.

  “Surely you do not mean that.” Earth had not yet discovered other sentient species for themselves. It would be irregular at best to introduce ourselves to them first—and at worst, it could be disastrous for their planet and people. Not every species was ready to learn they were not alone in the universe.

  “It doesn’t matter. I do not want you concerned for what life she may have on Earth after this—your job is to help her return. It is what she wishes, I am sure, and more importantly, it is what I wish. You may not take orders from me, but please me and I will reward you handsomely anyway.”

  “I am an heir to a Lunarian High House.” I felt it prudent to remind her. “There is little you can offer me that I could not claim for myself.”

  “Perhaps. But things are changing, Coplan. Some of them already in motion, some of them yet to fall into place.”

  Idria disappeared abruptly, ending the call without another word. The projectors whirred softly as they shut down once more.

  I found Kloran and Haelian in the hall, looking eager for news.

  Unfortunately, I was walking away from my audience with Lady Idria feeling like I had gained nothing but unease.

  “She merely wished me to ensure Savii’s recovery moved along as quickly as possible,” I told them. “She truly wants her sent home.”

  “We already knew that.” Haelian stroked his chin. “So why speak with you privately at all?”

  “She spoke cryptically toward the end,” I added. “The implication was that she is planning something. Surely, she expected I would tell you as much, though.”

  “Guessing at Idria’s meddlings is like trying to catch air with a net,” Kloran scoffed. “Luckily, the High Council has not contacted us yet. My gut says we should continue our efforts to recover Savii’s sister.”

  “Agreed.” Haelian nodded. “If they both wish to return to Earth after they are reunited and their health is assured, then the rescue will allow everyone to get what they desire.”

  “Even Lady Idria,” I said with a grimace. “Now that she has made her wishes clear, that is what I am most worried about.”

  7

  Savannah

  When I woke up again, for a little while, I was at a loss. Caring for myself was all I could do right now, but even after a shower and some food, I didn’t really feel any better at all.

  My body was mending. My legs were getting a little stronger with every passing day. But that part of me that Coplan seemed so concerned about—my soul—even I knew it wasn’t healing the way it needed to be.

  I’d been treated like a possession—and not the valued kind. How many different Rutharian warriors had come to me in that cell and used me like I was something they owned but didn’t care about? Dozens, at least. Maybe more. I couldn’t even recall every individual incident anymore. They all blurred together, like a terrible, drunken night stretched across weeks, months, infinity.

  When I looked into the mirror, I couldn’t see anything I liked anymore. When I closed my eyes and let myself feel the spaces in between my heartbeats, I felt broken. Ruined. Used up and thrown away.

  I could only push it all down for so long. Either I could go on ignoring this, letting my body heal while ignoring the rest of me, or I could do something about it.

  But in order for that to work…

  I couldn’t do this alone. I knew I had to ask for help.

  “Good afternoon, Savii.” When Coplan came in to check on me, stretching and yawning like a cat that had just been napping in the sunshine, I almost smiled.

  There was something good about him. I didn’t know why I hadn’t noticed it sooner. It radiated off of him like light from the sun, even in the dark of my little room.

  If anyone could help me, he would.

  “Did you get some more sleep?” I needed to figure out how to broach this topic with him. Asking for painkillers or something to help me sleep would have been easy by comparison. But how could I ask him to heal what pills and needles couldn’t touch?

  “I did. Eventually. Forgive me, Savii. I am…a little groggy from it still, I think.” Coplan yawned again and rubbed his eyes. It was kind of cute, the way he was checking up on me even though he still seemed a little sleepy. He must have just woken up. “How are you?”

  “I’m…” I wracked my brain for the right word. My inclination was to say that I was fine, but that wasn’t honest—and I knew better than to lie to a medical professional when what I really needed was help. “I’m not doing well, actually.”

  “No?” Coplan immediately looked concerned. “What is wrong? Your ribs—have you hurt yourself? Did you fall?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” I hugged my arms around my chest and squeezed my practically nonexistent biceps. “My body still hurts a little, yeah. But…” I glanced down at the bed next to me, then back up at Coplan. “Do you maybe want to sit down?”

  Coplan nodded and moved to si
t on the bed. He was careful to leave a few inches between my body and his, which I was grateful for.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about being touched right now.

  “I don’t like how I’m feeling. You know. In here.” I tapped my fingers over my heart, then to my temple. “Or up here. When I think about what’s happened to me, everything I’ve been through…it all feels too disjointed sometimes to even hold together in my head. And when I can…it makes me feel sick to my stomach, Coplan. I can’t think about any of it for very long, or else…”

  “You can tell me anything, Savii. As I have said before, it is not only your body we have to return to good health. If I can do anything to help you, I will. But for that, you must be honest with me.”

  I nodded, then sighed and stared down at my knobby knees. “I just don’t know where to start.”

  “Hmm.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Coplan stroking his chin in thought. “Perhaps I can assist you with that, then. If you will allow it?”

  “I’ll take just about anything right now, honestly.” I turned to him and forced myself to meet his eyes. In the dark, they looked slightly less purple than they normally did. There was something pale and sad in his irises. I felt a weird kind of kindredness to them. I was kind of pale and sad myself. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Lie back,” Coplan told me. “You can lay your head on my lap, if you wish.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him as one corner of my mouth turned upward into a smirk. “This doesn’t sound like a very traditional healing technique.”

  Coplan laughed. “Not for you, perhaps. But among my people, touch is an important aspect of dealing with trauma. It helps remind you that you are safe. Cared for. Not alone. But for this to work, Savii, you will have to trust me.”

  I shrugged and shifted so I could lie back on the bed. The thick muscles of his thigh were kind of hard for a pillow, but to my surprise, it wasn’t exactly an uncomfortable position to be in.