“No.”
The word comes out harder than intended. She finally looks at me, one eyebrow raised in question.
“I don’t need to be fixed,” I say. “These marks are part of my history. My hunts. My trials.”
She shrugs, making notes on a crystal tablet that glows with soft blue light. “As you wish. The injuries won’t prevent you from completing the mission, though I recommend stretches for the shoulder. I can show you?—”
“I know how to manage my own body.”
“Of course you do.” There’s something in her tone, not mockery, exactly, but something that makes my leopard want to prowl closer, figure her out. “You’re cleared for field duty. We leave at dawn.”
She turns to go, and I find myself speaking before I can think better of it. “You’re not what I expected.”
She pauses at the door. “What did you expect?”
“Someone softer. Civilized healers usually are.”
She turns back, and for a moment I see something fierce in her that makes my leopard sit up and pay attention.
“Soft things don’t survive long in the mountains, Mr. Ironwood. Even civilized ones.” She tilts her head slightly. “You might want to revise your expectations. Dawn comes early.”
She leaves before I can respond, her scent lingering in the air like a challenge.
I pull my shirt back on, mind racing. This is... not what I planned. The mission was simple: find the missing traders, prove Mountain Cat innocence, evaluate whether integration is worthwhile. Nothing in Keira’s orders mentioned anything about a healer who makes my magic sing and my leopard act like a lovesick cub.
The main council chamber has cleared except for Kael and Elena. They’re speaking quietly, hands linked in the casual intimacy of a mated pair. My chest tightens with something I refuse to acknowledge as envy.
“Is everything satisfactory?” Elena asks.
“The healer is competent,” I admit grudgingly. “She found old injuries even our clan healers have missed.”
“Lyra is exceptional,” Elena agrees. “She’s also adapted to harsh conditions. She’s worked the frontier settlements, dealt with wild clan injuries. Don’t let her size fool you.”
“Size means nothing if she can’t keep pace.”
Kael makes a sound that might be amusement. “Storm Eagles train in the thin air above the peaks. Endurance is bred into us, and Lyra has trained with the best. She’ll keep pace.”
I want to argue, but something in Kael’s expression stops me. Pride, yes, but also warning. These are his people I’m dismissing. His healer I’m underestimating.
“Where are my quarters?” I ask instead.
“The eastern tower, third level. The guard will show you.” Kael pauses. “Magnus, this mission is important. Not just for finding the traders, but for proving that our clans can work together. That integration is possible.”
“I’m here to track, not to prove political points.”
“Sometimes they’re the same thing,” Elena says softly.
I leave without responding, following the guard through walkways that my leopard finds deeply unsettling. Too open. Too exposed. The room they’ve given me is comfortable enough—stone walls, thick furs, a window that overlooks the valley—but it’s still foreign. Still wrong.
I should focus on tomorrow’s mission. Study maps, plan routes, prepare equipment. Instead, I find myself thinking about the way her magic felt when it touched mine, strangely familiar and foreign all at once.
My leopard is restless, pacing in my mind. It wants to find her, learn her scent more thoroughly, understand why she looked at us with such fear. Not fear of a predator—I know that look. This was different. Personal. Like she knew something about us that we don’t know ourselves.
I’ve been on countless hunts, tracked through blizzards and avalanches, faced down rival clans and wild beasts. I’ve never been nervous before a mission.
But as I watch the sun set over these impossible spires, I can’t shake the feeling that tomorrow, everything changes.
She knows something. And despite every instinct telling me to hunt alone, to trust no one outside the clan, I need to know what she’s hiding.
