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Dozan raised an eyebrow at Fordham. “You can leave Red here, and we’ll take care of her.”

To Kerrigan’s surprise, Fordham’s grip on her tightened. “I think I’ll take her to the healer myself.” His voice held bite and possessiveness. Even his posture straightened.

She knew Dozan well enough that if he kept this up, a fight would break out, and she really didn’t have the time. This was about that absurd authority that men had to push against to see who was the alpha among them. If she wasn’t injured and half-falling over, she would hit them both up the side of the head.

“Stab wound, remember?” she said through gritted teeth. “Can we not do this right now?”

Dozan set his jaw. The look he gave her said that someone was going to pay for this later. But she was as stubborn as he was and didn’t care about the cost.

“Follow me,” he said tightly.

Then, the crowd parted for him in the Wastes and they moved past a bar full of regulars, girls in scandalously clad dresses who winked at Fordham as they passed, and past the stairs that led to level after level of debauchery far below. And at the center, on the very bottom floor, was the Dragon Ring. Even this high up, she could hear the cheers of the crowd, their thirst for blood. It made her skin tingle with want.

They didn’t head down. No, they headed up to Dozan’s quarters. The only area that actually existed up. No one was higher than Dozan Rook.

Kerrigan stumbled over the first few stairs. Her feet kept getting stuck under her. Blood loss? She didn’t know, but she felt sluggish and clumsy.

Fordham reached for her, and she held up her hand unsteadily. “I can walk.”

He sighed as if it were a great inconvenience and then hoisted her into his arms despite her protests. It hadn’t been that long ago that Dozan was the one carrying her through the Wastes after her fight with Basem. It felt like an eternity ago.

No one seemed to care about her protests to walk. Dozan opened a door and gestured for Fordham to put her inside. It was stark with nothing but a small pallet and a wash tin nearby. Fordham laid her down onto the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. Her head lolled back. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until everything finally stopped and she didn’t have to try anymore. She could just lie here and breathe. Maybe sleep.

There was a muffled argument that ensued while she tried to get her bearings, and she only caught pieces of it.

“I won’t leave her alone with you.”

“You don’t have much choice.”

“I can take her back to the mountain.”

“If you were going to do that, then you wouldn’t have even come here.”

“She wanted to come here, not me.”

“Then trust her judgment.”

“Hers… not yours.”

“Only at your own peril.” There was a soft pause. “And apparently, hers tonight.”

“Just get her a healer.”

And then, the strange conversation drifted off. Kerrigan felt like she was floating off and away. Everything went very fuzzy around the edges. What felt like minutes or maybe hours later, another man appeared in the room. He wore the red vest and black slacks of one of Dozan’s men, but he didn’t look like one of Dozan’s. He looked serene and calm. Clearly Fae, but he must not have been part of a tribe to be working for Dozan now.

“What are you?” she whispered, reaching up with her uninjured arm toward him.

“My name is Amond,” he said. “Now, lie back and stay still.”

Kerrigan did what he’d told her and waited for the slow work on the healing to take effect. Then, Amond pulled a glowing blue light out of thin air, and Kerrigan’s eyes widened in shock.

“What are you doing?” She jolted up at the sight.

“Lie back, please.” He gently pushed her back into place.

“That’s not how healers work.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s not how tribe healers work.”

Kerrigan didn’t know what he meant. The only healers who could process the craft, who were strong enough in healing, were tribe healers. Helly was the greatest healer in hundreds of years, more powerful than almost any who had been rumored to come before her, except perhaps the ancients. What would she have to say about this glowy blue light? What was the light?

But she didn’t ask those questions. She let Amond go to work. Really, she didn’t have the energy to fight him off anyway.

He took the light and first cast it across her body from head to toe. “Your shoulder is severe, but you have a cut on your arm and a contusion on your head. Also, you’ve suffered from a sprained ankle.”

She frowned. “Not recently.”

“No, it looks many years old. It never healed right.”

How could he know that? It hardly even bothered her anymore. She’d jumped off a dragon wrong and rolled her ankle. When the weather was particularly bad, it still irritated her.

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