"He comes with me." Kalyndi's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
The guard blinked. "Kali, you can't be serious. That thing… "
"That 'thing' is my protector." She placed a hand on my arm, her touch burning through my hide. "I need him with me."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Protector? We both knew that wasn't the agreement. She was my claimed mate, brought back to her people only to heal their sick before returning to my territory. Nothing more.
"The Council won't like this," the guard muttered, but lowered his spear.
"The Council doesn't treat fever-sick children," she snapped back. "I do."
The guards reluctantly parted, and I ducked to follow Kalyndi through the archway. The settlement's inner sanctum closed around us like a trap. Stone walls, narrow passages. Too many humans, too close.
"You didn't need to claim me as your protector," I murmured as we walked, my senses hyperalert to every sound, every movement.
Kalyndi glanced up at me, her dark eyes unreadable. "Would you prefer I told them the truth? That I'm your..." She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Mate," I supplied. The word hung between us, heavy with all it implied.
The healing quarters smelled of herbs and sickness. Sweat prickled along my spine as memories flooded back, my only other time inside human walls. I'd been younger then, curious about the strange soft creatures. That curiosity had cost three of my hunting party their lives and left me with the scar that ran from shoulder to hip.
"You're tense," Kalyndi observed, her healer's eyes missing nothing.
"Last time I was inside a human settlement, I left with more holes than I arrived with."
Her face softened. "No one will harm you here. Not while you're with me."
I wanted to believe her. But trust wasn't in my nature, especially not trust in humans.
Small beds, each holding a child, crowded the healing room. Sweat-slicked faces, flushed with fever. The smell of sickness hung thick in the air, making my sensitive nose burn.
Kalyndi transformed again before my eyes. She moved from bed to bed, her hands gentle but sure. She spoke softly to each child, mixed remedies with practiced precision, gave instructions to the attending women. I stood against the wall, trying to make myself smaller, less threatening, as I watched her work.
A small boy, only six summers, stared at me with wide, fearless eyes while Kalyndi checked his fever.
"Are you really a mapinguari?" he asked, his voice raspy.
Before I could answer, Kalyndi smiled. "He is. The strongest and smartest one in the forest."
Pride bloomed in me at her words. I stepped closer, conscious of the mothers tensing around me.
"Does it hurt?" the boy pointed to the thick hide covering my body.
"No more than your skin hurts you," I answered, surprised by the gentleness in my voice.
"Redmon knows all the secrets of the forest," Kalyndi told the boy as she pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. "Which is very useful for a healer like me."
Her skill was undeniable. The children responded to her touch, their trust absolute. Even as their mothers watched me with suspicion, they handed their most precious treasures to Kalyndi without hesitation.
"The fever's too deep," she murmured to me hours later, her face drawn with concern. "The usual remedies aren't working."
I leaned closer, inhaling the scent of the sick children. "It smells different from regular fever."
"You can smell the difference?" Her eyebrows rose.
"My kind can detect illness before it shows on the skin." I hesitated. "This has the aroma of the blackwater marshes."
While Kalyndi continued her work, I retreated to the shadows in an open window, trying to escape the press of humans and their stares. Two men stood just outside, their voices carrying clear to my sensitive ears.
