“Did he even struggle?” Stella couldn’t stop the question.
It wasn’t as if she’d wanted him to fail, but he’d been a distraction when she needed focus and wanted it to have been as hard for him as it was for her. After his patronizing advice before the event, she had hoped that, at the very least, he might be marginally humbled.
Rainer appeared in the doorway. He gave her the same assessing look her mother had and nodded once. “You’re okay, Stell-bell.”
It was more statement than question and Stella could tell that he’d done it for Cecilia’s benefit as much as Stella’s.
“I’m fine. Don’t cry, Mama,” Stella said, gesturing to her body.
But her mother’s eyes continued to well and Stella knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Her mother reached to pull her into a hug.
Stella ducked her grasp and tried to ignore the hurt on Cecilia’s face. “You should wait until I’m not filthy and bloody.”
She wasn’t trying to be cruel, but if her mother hugged her, Stella would fall apart. She needed her strength now.
Rainer put an arm around Cecilia’s shoulders. “She’s right, sweetheart. We should let Lyra heal her up.”
“I should do it,” her mother insisted.
Rainer caught Stella’s eye. “I think the tournament requires theirofficial healers work on all contestants, to avoid any accusations of cheating. Isn’t that right, Stella?”
Stella was so grateful for the way he always read her so well. She nodded vigorously but her mother didn’t look away from the blood crusted on her side.
“You said you just needed to look at her to know she’s okay, Cece,” Rainer murmured in her mother’s ear. “Let Lyra work on her and we’ll see Stella when she’s done.”
Her mother nodded and curled into Rainer’s side as he guided her out of the suite.
“Good job, Little Star. We’re proud of you. You fought smart, and that was an amazing shot. Not sure your mother could have made it.” He smirked as her mother smacked his arm.
“Absolutely could have. I know what you’re doing, but I will let it happen because I love you for it,” her mother said.
Her father grinned at Stella before they ducked out of the room and left her alone.
A moment later, the door opened and Aunt Lyra smiled and clapped her hands.
“There’s my little victor,” she said cheerily as if Stella had won the challenge instead of barely surviving it.
Lyra was not her aunt by blood, but she had delivered Stella into the world and had basically helped raise her. With the number of hours Cecilia spent working at the clinic, most of Stella’s early memories were of huddling in her mother’s office or spying on Lyra and her partner, Mika, as they spoke to patients in their gentle, caring way.
Lyra and Cecilia had that same way of setting anxious people at ease that Stella had always been in awe of. It was not a skill she possessed—other than that rare moment with Teddy before the announcement ceremony. Then, it had seemed quite simple, like she intuitively understood the call of their bond and responded in kind.
Tears burned in Stella’s eyes, but she forced them away.
The healer’s face softened. “Sweet girl, what have you gotten yourself into? I thought I was going to have to give your mother a sedative.”
Stella pressed her fingers to her temples. “Please, no more lectures. I’ve had all the judgment I can take for one day. I just need my side healed so I can go home and drink wine and sleep.”
Lyra frowned and opened the cabinet beside the bed. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any wine, but Mika keeps some whiskey in here somewhere.” She rustled around in the cabinet for a moment before letting out a victorious whistle and holding up a bottle of golden-brown liquid.
She poured them both a glass and handed one to Stella.
“To one challenge down.”
Stella smiled and clicked her glass before knocking back the whiskey. It burned pleasantly in her chest as she swallowed. She held out her glass again, and Lyra chuckled and refilled it.
“Last one. I need your senses duller, but I want you awake to heal,” Lyra said.
