"If you ask me if I'm okay one more time, I'm going to wish I’d never got out of that damn river." He winced, clearly remembering Stephen and sighed. "Fuck. I'm managing, Ellie. Promise. Whatever that big bloke packed around my leg is actually helping. The pain's... duller than it was."
I looked at the splint. It was crude by modern standards but the alignment was solid, the binding tight without cutting off circulation. Whoever this healer was, he knew what he was doing.
"He's good," I said quietly.
"He's bloody brilliant, is what he is." Dev shifted slightly and winced. A shadow fell across us, blocking the firelight. I looked up, startled, and found the healer standing there. He'd moved so quietly I hadn't heard him approach, and now he was just... there. Huge and solid and watching me with an expression I couldn't read.
I froze, my breath catching. He was even bigger up close, towering over me, his presence somehow both intimidating and oddly comforting. This close, I could smell smoke and leather and something spicy, herbs maybe.
He said something in his language, low and soft, the tone gentle despite my complete inability to understand the words.
I just stared at him, helpless.I don't know what you're saying. I don't know what you want.
He held my gaze for a moment longer, then slowly reached out and rested one large hand on Dev’s leg and looked down at him. Dev got it immediately, and nodded. I shifted to Dev’s other side as the healer unpacked the bindings and examined Dev’s leg. Whatever he saw must have pleased him, because he gave a soft grunt and nodded, then added fresh herbs and bandaged the leg back up again.
Then he turned to me.
I knew what was coming before he even reached for me. The way his gaze dropped to my thigh, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the shift in his posture from satisfied to concerned. He'd been watching. Of course he'd been watching. He'd probably smelled the blood hours ago and been biding his time until Dev was sorted.
He gestured at my leg, then at the ground beside the fire. Sit.
"I'm fine," I said automatically, even though he couldn't understand me. "It's nothing. I'm fine."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me with those warm brown eyes that missed absolutely nothing. Then he pointed at my leg and said something in that rolling, unfamiliar language. His tone was firm. Not aggressive, not demanding, just certain. The way a doctor spoke when they weren't asking your permission.
"Really," I said, pulling my leg closer to my body, wincing at the movement. "It can wait. Save your supplies for Dev, he needs them more than—"
Dev snorted from his pile of furs. "Ellie, you've been limping for five hours and there's blood soaked through your trousers. You need help."
I looked down. He was right. A large patch of blood had grown over the day’s march, and the sight of it made the pain suddenly sharper, as if my body had been waiting for my brain to acknowledge the injury before turning up the volume.
"It's not that bad," I said, but my voice wavered.Shit. That's... that's not good.
The healer crouched down in front of me, and the sheer size of him at this proximity stole whatever argument I'd been building. His knees were level with my chest. His shoulders blocked the firelight, casting his face in shadow except for the amber glow that caught in his eyes. He pointed at my leg again, then at theground beside the fire, and made a firm, downward gesture with his palm.
Sit. Stay. Let me look.
The healer moved before I could protest, reaching toward my leg with clear intent. I flinched instinctively, not because I was scared of him, but because I wasn't used to people touching me. No one had touched me since Nathan. He paused, his hand hovering just above my knee, and looked up at me. Waiting for permission.
Something in my chest cracked a little wider.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He made a sound that might have been approval, then called out something over his shoulder. The authority in his tone was unmistakable, and another wolf immediately appeared with a leather pouch and a water skin, handing them over without question before moving away.
They listen to him. Respect him.
The realization was oddly comforting. If these people trusted him to treat their injuries, maybe I could too. He stood, offering me his hand. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, but I took it anyway. His grip was solid and warm as he helped me stand, supporting my weight easily when my injured leg threatened to buckle. He said something, pointing with his other hand at my waist, and I frowned, not sure what he meant.
Dav laughed. “You need to drop your trousers, El. He can’t help you with your clothes on.”
Shit. I was suddenly aware of the six other men in the camp with us and I blushed hard, hoping the firelight wouldn’t reveal my embarrassment. The healer frowned, then glanced behind us, and his expression cleared. Still holding my hand, he guided me around the other side of the fire, and knelt, his large body blocking me from the view of everyone else.
He reached for my boot and paused, looking up at me questioningly.
I nodded, and he carefully unlaced it and eased it off my foot along with the sock, filthy and blood-stained. He glanced with interest at my boot, before doing the second one, and setting them aside. I reached down, face burning, and fumbled with the button and zipper on my trousers, clumsy from cold and exhaustion and the mortifying awareness that I was about to strip in front of a stranger. He’s a doctor, I told myself. Just another doctor.
I shoved the trousers down over my hips, hissing as the fabric peeled away from the wound. The makeshift bandage, which was only a strip torn from my thermal undershirt, had fused to the edges of the gash with dried blood, and pulling it free sent a white-hot lance of pain up my thigh that made my vision swim.
