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“Yes, please.” I push my empty mug across the bar top.
She gives me a sympathetic smile as she takes it, refills it from the tap, and slides it back toward me.
I take another sip of mead.
Then another.
Warmth spreads through my chest, chasing away the cold ache that’s been festering there ever since that fire ferret died.
Around me, the tavern carries on as if nothing happened. Laugher rises from a table near the hearth. Someone slaps a hand against the wooden tabletop as a dice game ends in a burst of cheers and groans. Glasses clink. Boots scrape against the floor. The fire crackles, filling the room with a low, comforting warmth.
I take another drink.
The edges of everything begin to blur. My thoughts feel slower too. Foggy. Lighter. Easier to carry.
I stare down at my mug, watching the amber liquid ripple as I turn it lazily between my hands.
A large palm lands on my shoulder.
I blink, then look up to see Lucan standing beside me.
For a moment, I just stare at him. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, and there’s still a faint smudge of soot across his cheek. He looks tired too, though somehow he’s still unfairly handsome.
“Hi, Lucan,” I mumble. “What’re you doing here?”
“Was walking through town and saw you sitting here alone. Looked like you needed some company.”
His arm brushes mine as he pulls out the stool beside me. The chair creaks beneath his weight.
He catches Clarette’s attention with a nod. “Beer, please.”
She grabs a bottle and sets it in front of him.
Lucan takes a long drink before turning toward me. “Long day, Doc?”
A frown tugs on my lips. “It was rubbish.”
His brows draw together. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not a good vet.”
Lucan blinks. “Huh?”
“I lost a patient.” The words come out thick and slurred. “It died. I couldn’t save it.”
Lucan’s expression softens. “I’m sorry.”
I look down at my mug. “I should quit. I’m a bad doctor.”
“That’s not true.”
I shake my head, the motion making the room swirl. “Yes, it is.”
Lucan sets down his beer. “I’ve never met anyone with a bigger heart than you, Micah.” He pauses, then adds, “And I come from a village full of giants.”
A quiet laugh slips out before I can stop it. I hide my giddy smile behind another sip of mead.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Lucan insists, squeezing my shoulder. “You’ve saved far more patients than you’ve lost. Focus on those instead.”
