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“Yes,myhuman.”
The healer took a step backward and swept his arm out to usher the general superior forward. “Human Louella offered to assist and has already proven herself quite helpful.”
“Assist?” Yas’kihn echoed, crest flattening against his scalp. He itched to draw his claws across the smug healer’s body and disembowel him, but the ship and crew could not afford to lose their only healer.
“She said she was anurseback on Earth and wished to put her training to good use here,” Epsilon explained. “And, truly, she has been more helpful than I could have anticipated. I could use several more such nurses.”
Yas’kihn forced himself to calm. He exhaled a long, low breath and searched the busy space with piercing eyes.Ah, there she was!He observed her finish changing a bandage and giving the patient a gentle pat and a few kind words. When he shifted focus to speak to the healer again, the male had already moved away and … oh, no, the healer was not going to speak tohishuman female alone!
The general superior prowled through the medical bay like a frigate cutting through a crowded harbor. Lesser beings moved out of his way, rapidly clearing a path. He only stopped when he loomed close behind Louella.
“You will say nothing to her that I do not also hear,” he growled and settled a big hand on her shoulder.
“We are merely reviewing the patients she has cared for today,” the healer answered in a mild, dispassionate tone as though he dealt with overly possessive males every day.
Louella shrugged, but did not dislodge the big male’s possessive grip. She shot him a disgruntled look and said, “I can speak for myself, thank you, Healer Esillon.” Glowering at Yas’kihn, she said, “I’m a nurse, Jax. Taking care of patients is what I do, and you’re not going to stop me.”
“Jax?” both males echoed in confusion.
Louella sighed. “Consider it a nickname.”
General Superior Yas’kihn mek Kuresh’Zha let the short, one-syllable word roll over his tongue. With a curt nod, he said, “I like it. You will call me Jax, but none else shall have that privilege.”
Louella rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “You’re lucky I don’t call you shithead.”
Yas’kihn pretended not to hear the comment and let it pass. He made a clicking noise in his throat which captured the healer’s attention. Fixing the healer’s gaze with his, he said at a register below human audible reception, “This female is mine. You will speak to and treat her with all due respect.”
The healer bowed his head and replied in the same language, “Yes, my lord.”
“What are you talking about?” Louella asked, feeling a subtle rumble of not-quite-sound and not liking that they were having a private conversation that was all too likely about her while she was standing right there.
“I am merely impressing upon the healer to keep you safe,” Yas’kihn replied smoothly and bared his teeth at the healer who understood the threat. “Our return to Ahn’hudin will be delayed, per the crown prince’s order.”
The healer frowned. “You command the military, not he.”
“True, but I agreed with his command and have reinforced it. Circumstances have arisen that justify our delayed arrival. We go to Kaan first.”
“What’s Kaan?” Louella asked.
“And what are we to do with all the refugees?” the healer asked.
“The Kaanians have an infirmary moon where the refugees will be welcomed, treated, and provided the opportunity either to return to their homes or to pursue other livelihoods,” Yas’kihn replied. “The Kaanian brides are showing signs of illness.”
Hearing the wordbrides, Louella pursed her lips and she pondered that. “Are their brides human, too?”
The healer nodded. “Kaan is part of the Triune Alliance and, as such, receives brides from Earth. They do not usually welcome Ahn’hudi warships into their space.”
“They welcome our arrival,” the general superior said. He refocused his penetrating yellow gaze on Louella. “You must be hungry.”
At his words, her stomach rumbled. She nodded. “Famished, but I can’t eat much.”
He held out his hand and felt strangely gratified when she placed her soft palm against his. Looking over her attire before heading back to his quarters, he decided she was inadequately garbed. Too much of her soft, sweet flesh was exposed for other males to covet while he was unable to protect her virtue, yet he had no alternative clothing for her. The ship’s crew had already depleted its stores of spare uniforms to clothe the refugees.
He shortened his pace when he noticed her struggling to keep up with his long, powerful stride. “My apologies, pretty spark. I forget your limitations.”
Panting and pressing one arm to the stitch in her side, Louella didn’t have the breath to speak beyond a gasped thank-you. Then, annoyed by the “pretty spark” appellation, she rasped, “Limitations?”
“Your legs are short—”
