Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“It’s not like her pregnancy is a security threat,” he said to Finn the next morning—because he had told their healer; Finn needed to be prepared in case shit went wrong.
“No,” Finn agreed as he danced out of the way of a kick from Remi.
Like most healers, Finn hated violence. But also like most healers, he had a protective streak so wide it was a six-lane highway. Add in the fact that he was conscious of RainFire being a small and isolated pack, and here they were.
“I want to be trained,” he’d declared. “I’m an adult in good condition. I need to be able to protect our vulnerable.”
He was right.
Despite knowing that, Remi had to force himself to carry through on any strikes that might land—alphas just did not hurt their healers unless they were unhinged assholes.
It helped that Finn hadn’t started out green as grass. He’d picked up bits and pieces during his sojourn as a relief healer in other packs, but had never done the full course intended to arm noncombatants in a pack.
Remi and his sentinels had fixed that.
The weekly sessions were to ensure he didn’t forget.
“And,” Finn said, his chest heaving as they circled each other in the small clearing they used as a practice ground, “I’d say it’s her personal business unless she makes it ours. Woman’s just minding her own right now.
“Plus, we’ve got no hard evidence that she was involved in what happened to Aden and Zaira in that bunker—didn’t Aden say she doesn’t appear to have had much power until after Shoshanna’s death?”
Remi launched another attack.
Finn kicked forest floor debris right up into his face before spraying him with a disgusting smelling spray that he’d pulled from his back jeans pocket. Because with Finn, they often trained as if he’d been attacked while at work in the infirmary. Today, that meant jeans and an old blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
And the foul spray.
Fuck, that was rank.
“What the hell?” Remi choked on the stink, his forearm raised to his face in a vain attempt at blocking it.
Finn backed off, coughing—while somehow grinning at the same time, his leopard a glow in the green of his eyes. “You and Angel both told me to play to my strengths. Lots of toxic stuff to throw and spray in an infirmary. Don’t worry, this one is just stinky.”
Healers. Smart and smartasses with it.
His leopard proud even as it wanted to bring down curses on Finn’s smart head, Remi held up his hands. “I surrender. Let’s get the hell away before that stench sinks into our skin.”
A smug Finn put away his dastardly concoction and did a graceful bow. “I accept your defeat.” His face broke out into another huge grin as he rose up from the bow. “I also plan to tell everyone.”
Remi growled without any real threat in it; it was good to see Finn happy. “I’m going to run up to the cabin again today,” he said after they escaped the biohazard area. “Check she’s doing all right.”
Finn pressed his lips together. “To be honest,” he said, hands on his hips, “I’d feel better if you did. She must have a senior M-Psy on speed dial, but that won’t help if she trips and falls and knocks herself unconscious.”
“Great, thanks for that image.” Which would now haunt him every hour that Auden was in that remote cabin. It didn’t matter that he barely knew her; protectiveness was built into his nature.
She was happy the last time she wore that watch. No pain, just comfort at being with you, at lying by the window in the sun, with the forest just outside.
His chest clenched. Because yeah, there was a little of the personal between them. Whatever had been wrong with Auden that first day, whether she was lying or not about the brain injury, she’d given him a gift beyond price when she’d spoken of his mother’s last days, leaving him with an image of a leopard at peace, happy and warm.
He owed her in a way he’d never forget.
“Welcome to the inside of a healer’s brain.” Finn’s voice brought him back to the now. “I am ever haunted by thoughts of future calamity.”
A clear ping of sound.
Glancing down, Finn grimaced at the message that had popped up on the mobile comm he never took off; the pack had funded that because, quite frankly, he needed it given their limited numbers and the youthful skew of their population.
“Talking of which,” the healer muttered, “possible broken ribs in a group of juveniles who decided they wanted to practice sparring without oversight. They’re about a thirty-minute run away.”
“How serious? You need me?” Remi was tied to Finn by a bond of blood, the act an intense and private one between alpha and healer that made Finn one of Remi’s in a way that had left Finn in tears for the closing of a circle that had been open too long in his life. It also meant Finn could pull the pack’s energy from Remi during a complicated healing.