Page 3 of Alien Healer’s Mate

Kellat arched an eyebrow. “I’m the lead healer on this station. I don’t make guesses about my patients.”

“Fine.” The big war commander’s shoulders dropped a fraction. “I’ll tell Harper. She’s not going to like it, but she’ll listen if I tell her you gave your word.”

“She can be as angry at me as she wants when she gets back. Better me than you.”

The ghost of a grin crossed Kirr’s face. “You haven’t seen her angry. I’ll comm when we’re back in range. Keep me updated if anything changes.”

“Of course.”

The call cut out, and Kellat sat in the silence of his office, staring at the space where Kirr’s image had been.

Then a female scream ripped through the air like a blade through flesh.

He was out of his chair before his brain caught up. His shoulder slammed into the doorframe on the way out, but he didn’t register the impact. That scream was coming from Delilah’s bay.

He ran.

Oh shit. They were going to hit the wall.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t steer, couldn’t do anything except watch the concrete barrier fill the viewscreen of the flyer. The scream from the rental’s safety alarm ripped through the air. Or maybe it was Harper… or her. She didn’t know. The wheel was torn from under her hands, and the world spun sickeningly. Then there was nothing but the wall, rushing up to meet them. Oh god, she was going to die; she was going to kill them both…

The scream tore from Delilah’s throat as she scrambled backward to get away from the wall. Her hands shoved against whatever was under her as she dragged air into her lungs in a raw, heaving gasp. Then her back hit something solid, and she pressed herself against it. Her heart hammered, and her chest heaved as she looked around herself, blinking.

Not dead. She wasn’t dead. Why wasn’t she dead? And where had the wall gone? She wasn’t in the flyer anymore. She was in what looked like a hospital room, on a hospital bed. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the fuzzy feeling. What had happened? Where was she?

“Easy.” A voice said from her side. It was deep and calm. Male. “You’re safe. You’re on Devan Station. You’ve been in a medical coma. You’re going to feel disoriented for a few moments. That’s normal.”

She dragged in another breath and forced her eyes to focus as she looked around.

Then utterly forgot how to breathe.

The man standing beside the bed was not human. That was the first thing her brain managed to process, and it didn’t even begin to cover it. He was huge. Easily the biggest person she’d ever seen, broad-shouldered and built like someone had designed a sexy as sin man and then decided the blueprint wasn’t intimidating enough. Silver hair fell past his shoulders in intricate braids, shot through with something that caught the light, and his face…

Okay. Okay, yeah. Wow.

She’d never used the word stunning for a man before, but there was no other word. Sharp cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass, and eyes that shaded from violet into blue like a stormy sky. He wore a leather outfit, the jacket fitted across broad shoulders and open to show hardened cobblestone abs. A teal sash wrapped across his chest, cutting off her view, which was irritating. Then she realized she was staring and yanked her gaze up to his face.

Shit, she knew that face. How did she know that face?

Frowning, she tilted her head. “Do I know you?”

A strange expression flickered in the back of his eyes, but it was gone before she could name it. “No,” he said. “But you may recognize my voice. I’ve been monitoring you since the crash.”

“The crash.” The nightmare surged to the front of her mind again, but she shoved it back down. “Harper. Where’s Harper? Is she okay? She was in the flyer with me, we were—“ The words tangled in her throat, and she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “Where’s my sister?”

The doctor held up a hand. Bloody hell, it was huge. “Harper is fine. She wasn’t injured in the crash.”

Relief hit her hard and fast. Blinking, she fought the tears back. “Then where is she? Why isn’t she here?”

“Your cousin was mated recently. To War-Commander Kirr M’Aab.” He paused, gaze sharpening on her face. “They’re off-station at the moment.”

“Mated? You mean married? Oh my god!” She gasped. “Harper is married? To an alien?”

He inclined his head. “To a latharian War-Commander, so yes, for you that would count as an alien.”

Delilah blinked as the words caught up in her brain. Harper was married. Harper, the sensible one, the one who did the budget, while Delilah never thought about the end of the week after the money had run out. Harper, who had shouldered everyone else’s burdens for as long as Delilah could remember, had gone and married an alien while Delilah was in a coma.

And then the rest of it came crashing back.