Miranda glances at me.
“Don’t look at him,” Sera says pleasantly. “He’s in trouble.”
She examines the bruising with her hands and her eyes and asks three short questions that Miranda answers in monosyllables. She unwraps the soaked bandaging with care, cleans the skin beneath, and presses two fingers gently against Miranda’s ribs. Miranda’s breath catches. She doesn’t make a sound.
“Breathe normally,” Sera says.
“I am.”
Sera works without rushing. Then she looks over her shoulder at me. “Get her something dry. What are you standing there for? Do you want her to freeze to death?”
“You told me not to move.”
“Don’t talk back. Just do what I told you to.”
Grumbling under my breath at the completely unnecessary tongue lashing, I go to my closet and pull out a white button-up shirt and a pair of sweats. Sera takes them from me and tips her head at the door.
“Out.”
I go.
I stand in the hallway with my back against the wall and listen to the low murmur of Sera’s voice on the other side of the door and the silence where Miranda’s responses should be.
When Sera opens the door again, Miranda is sitting on the edge of the bed in my shirt, the hem falling to her thighs, her damp hair loose around her shoulders. The sweatpants are so big on her that they’re pooled around her legs.
Sera rebinds the wounds in clean gauze, ties it off, and opens a small cloth pouch from her bag that produces three tablets and a cup. “Drink.”
“What is it?”
“It will bring the inflammation down and help you sleep.”
Miranda drinks it.
Sera sits back and looks at her for a moment. Then she packs up her bag and tips her head toward the doorway. I follow her out.
In the hall, she keeps her voice to barely audible. “The injuries are mending. But she’s human. Her skin has healed but not completely. If my healing magic works too fast, it will destroy her psyche. She’ll be fine in a few days. Keep an eye on her.”
“I will.”
“You said that before as well.” The older healer frowns. “Don’t go getting her wet again!”
I run my fingers through my hair. “As you can see, I was also in the water, Sera. She wasn’t acting like herself. I was trying to snap her out of it. She was—She was going to get herself killed.”
Sera glances at the door and sighs. “There’s a reason we don’t use our healing magic on humans. I warned you, Grayson. It will mess with her head. In this case, I think her survival instincts were numbed. Give her time.”
My wolf is prowling inside me, anxious to return to Miranda’s side. I see Sera out and return to where Miranda is still sitting on the side of the bed.
I fetch a towel and come to stand before her. She goes still as I take her damp hair gently and press the towel against it. A long beat passes.
“I can do that,” she mutters.
I don’t respond, and she doesn’t stop me after that.
The hallway creaks. The door pushes open two inches, and a small face appears in the gap, clutching the worn ear of a stuffed bear, eyes enormous and fixed on Miranda.
“Miranda! You’re back!” Ethan rushes toward her, and I pluck him into the air by the back of his shirt.
“I don’t think so. Be gentle.”
