“Heal him,” Cassian said as he gestured towards the unconscious person not too far away from me. From his uniform, I could immediately see that he was one of Cassian’s lieutenants. “As fast as you can,” he ordered.
I gave a curt nod and moved to the wounded lieutenant, deliberately keeping my back to the physician who stood a few paces away, the same man who had examined me earlier. He was no doubt acting on Cassian’s orders. I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew what I could do.
“Poisoned…” I muttered as I knelt beside the lieutenant’s lifeless form, the lantern light dancing across his ashen features. Rain from my hood dripped faintly onto the floorboards, but I barely felt it. My focus was on the wound just beneath his collarbone, a dark stain in the pale expanse of his chest where the poisoned blade had struck.
My fingers brushed away the torn fabric to expose the entry point as though the assassins had practiced their aim. I broke off a corner of my cloak and folded it into a makeshift bowl, dipping it into the pail of water I’d fetched. The cold water hissed as I poured it over the gash, carrying away coagulated blood and revealing the milky white tissue beneath.
“Keep it clean,” I murmured, pressing the cloth firmly against the wound until every trace of impurity was gone. Then, I laid my hand flat on his chest. A dull warmth spread from my palm, pooling beneath the surface of his skin, knitting flesh and closing the incision with such speed it looked as though my hand blurred against the lieutenant’s sleeping form. When I lifted my palm, not a scar remained, only the gentle rise and fall of his breath.
“He’s going to wake up soon,” I told the physician as I brushed back my hood, letting the lantern’s glow illuminate my face. “He needs to be carried out of here before he stirs.” The doctor glanced at me, respect flickering in his eyes, and together we eased the lieutenant’s arms beneath his shoulders. When he stirred, he blinked twice against the dim light and managed a weak nod towards Cassian.
“Mendez saved you,” Cassian declared the moment the man opened his eyes. Mendez–yes, that was the old physician’s name. I didn’t ask why Cassian wanted them to believe it was him. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. It was because my ability wasn’t mine anymore. Not really. It belonged to him now. Just like everything else I signed away in that contract.
The Lieutenant looked at the old physician and nodded before he steadied himself. Then his eyes found me standing behind Cassian.
“No questions, Rio. Not now.” Cassian pointed toward the corridor. “Bring the next wounded
in.”
Rio, that was the name of the Lieutenant. I silently took my time remembering their names.
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Chapter 12
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Cassian didn’t have to say it out loud, but I knew that from now on, I would be working with them, especially when we get to the north.
“Understood, my lord,” Rio said, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weariness of near–death. He turned to study me, eyes dark as storm clouds, but offered only a curt nod before disappearing into the shadows to carry in the next casualty. The candle sputtered, and in its flicker I saw Cassian’s unreadable expression as he watched me stand, cloak drawn close.
“How did you learn to examine wounds like that?” he asked.
“I used to work in the infirmary,” I said, head bowed. “Fetching supplies, assisting the pack doctors. It was the only place I felt… useful.”
“My lord she- ” Mendez suddenly said.
“Later Mendez…” Cassian said. “But as you already know, she isn’t one of them.”
Mendez stared at me before he nodded. It didn’t take too long before Rio took in the next wounded person.
“Quickly…” Mendez said as he helped Rio. “This one’s about to die.”
I stepped forward before Rio could protest, my fingers already brushing aside the blood–soaked cloth to reveal ragged flesh puckered with swollen veins, this poison had eaten deeper than the last, a blackened stain spreading like ink across bone.
“This is worse,” I murmured, voice low enough that only Rio and Mendez could hear. “They’ve laced the blade with wyrmroot extract, potent enough to stop a dragon’s heart.” I glanced at Rio, whose jaw had gone slack, and offered him a steadying look.
“Fetch me water and clean this,” I instructed, nodding toward the wound as though it were merely a stain on my own sleeve.“Hurry!” Without a word, Rio dipped the hem of his tunic into the pail I’d left by the door and returned to gently flush the gash, his fingers trembling.
As the rancid odor of poison ebbed away with the soapy water, I pressed my palm against the lieutenant’s chest once more, feeling the chill of death flash through his veins before my warmth chased it back.
Around us, Mendez sucked in a breath so sharp I flinched, yet neither man moved to intervene. Within heartbeats, the skin drew taut, the discoloration faded, and the wound sealed cleanly as though it had never been.
I pulled back, allowing the lieutenant’s chest to rise in a steady, unlabored breath, and pressed a finger to his neck to count the pulse that fluttered like a wounded bird’s.
Cassian’s voice cut across the quiet: “Before he wakes fully, bring him outside. No questions
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Chapter 12
until later,” he said. “Then bring in the next one.”
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Rio straightened, eyes still wide with disbelief, then crossed to the lieutenant’s shoulders and, with surprising gentleness, lifted him into his arms. I stood back as Rio carried him past Mendez and out into the corridor, the lantern light following their passage like a silent
witness.
He paused at the threshold, meeting my gaze for a moment that felt heavier than a sentence, then inclined his head and vanished. Mendez exhaled, shaking his head, but said nothing.
I watched the last flicker of Rio’s lantern recede and felt a strange flutter in my chest, something like relief, or even pride. They hadn’t recoiled in fear, hadn’t whispered “witch” under their breath or backed away from the miracle I’d performed.
Instead, they trusted me to save another life. That simple acceptance warmed me from the inside out. It felt like a tiny spark against the cold dread I’d carried since signing that damned
contract.
I took a step forward, brushing ash from the tent’s threshold, and let the quiet settle around me. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, in Cassian’s world of blood and steel, there was room for someone like me. Someone who healed instead of killed.
Then a voice interrupted my thoughts. “My Lord, Alpha Collin Black… is asking for an audience.”
田
