Page 46 of Alien Healer’s Mate

“You called her petty,” Amaelii hissed. “That woman risked her life for you, and you humiliated her in front of witnesses.”

His chest went cold. Delilah with her chin up and her eyes too bright, the smile snapping into place so fast it had to hurt. He’d watched her do it and called it petty.

The silence that followed was thick enough to feel on his skin, his pulse loud in his ears, and the warlady next to him tilted her head, the scar along her jaw catching the light.

“So what does that make you?”

Nothing. It made him the kind of male who let a female… his mate who didn’t even know she was his, fight for him alone.

Delilah, a tiny human female with more courage than most of the warriors he’d fought alongside and treated, had walked across that floor and challenged a female who could kill her. And he’d stood there and called her an embarrassment.

Draanth.

“I need to find her.” His voice came out scraped raw, but he was already moving, taking the same path as Delilah had across the hall.

The warlady’s voice followed him, cool and measured. “Go after her. Before you lose her for good.”

The side door swung shut behind him, and the air was cooler and staler. The corridor was narrow, the walls unfinished composite under flickering amber striplight. Definitely not part of the public areas.

“Delilah?”

Her name bounced off the walls and came back thin. No answer.

She was furious with him. Of course she wouldn’t answer. She was probably holed up in some corner somewhere. He just had to find her.

He rounded the first corner and the corridor narrowed more. The conference had taken over the main hall and the diplomatic suites, which were luxurious and polished, but the service corridors back here were a different matter. They were older and rougher, built for function rather than aesthetics.

“Delilah!” He called out, louder this time, but there was nothing but an echo.

He kept walking. She’d walked out of the hall ten minutes ago, fifteen at most, so she couldn’t have gotten far. He should have caught her by now.

He rounded the second corner and was confronted by a door, the panel beside it dark. He stopped in front of it and pressed his palm flat against the metal.

Turning around, he frowned. She’d come this way, but then what? She couldn’t have gone through the door; it was dead. But she hadn’t come back, and there were no other turns or doors off this corridor.

A furious female didn’t walk into a service corridor and just vanish. She turned around, found another way, or sat down on a crate in some corner and waited for him to find her so she could refuse to speak to him.

He turned, walking back the way he’d come. As he walked, he checked every recess and alcove in case he’d missed a door, but nothing.

She wasn’t here.

Keying his comms, he raised the station’s command center. The channel clicked open, but he didn’t give them a chance to talk.

“This is Lead Healer V’Raav. I need a location lock on a member of my party.”

“Of course, please go ahead, Lead Healer.”

“I need a trace on a human female… Delilah Sawyer of Earth. Last seen exiting the conference hall through the east side door around twenty-five minutes ago. I need her current position. I think she’s wandered off and gotten herself lost. She’s not familiar with non-terran installations.”

“Stand by, commencing trace.”

Kellat tipped his head back as he waited, looking up at the chandelier above him. It was designed to resemble the moons of the planet below. His lips quirked into a small smile as he remembered her amazement when she’d first seen it.

“Lead Healer.” The voice had changed, and ice raced down Kellat’s spine. “There are no human biological signatures on the station at this time.”

He froze.

“I’m sorry,” Kellat said, keeping his voice calm. “I thought you said that there are no human biological signatures on the station at the moment. Confirm?”