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Derek tried to sit up, but after trying and failing, he settled for resting his head farther up on the throw pillow.
“Is this about the bonding?” Derek asked, seeing a bit of warmth had entered her expression.
Rather than replying, she looked down at the mixture in the bowl and, with a satisfied expression, stood and cleared the threshold, bowl in hand.
“Drink this,” she said. “It will help ease your pain.”
Derek mulled it over. It occurred to him that if she were trying to kill him, she probably would have done so while he was unconscious.
He nodded before reaching up and taking the bowl from the healer. He craned his neck back enough so he could gradually tip the mixture into his mouth.
With every sip, he resisted the urge to spit it back up. It burned his nostrils and his throat. It smelled a bit like sulfur and tasted like old tires. It had the consistency of molasses or pancake batter.
He tilted the bowl back. “I don’t have to drink all of this, do I?”
The healer shook her head, almost laughing in response.
“Good. Because I can only handle so much deliciousness right now.”
This made her actually laugh out loud. “You’re so full of shit,” she said.
He handed the bowl back to her, having only drunk a small quantity. “If I’m honest, it could use a little sugar.”
She took the bowl from him, this time stifling a laugh successfully as she stuffed the container inside her refrigerator.
“I know it tastes terrible,” she said from the kitchen. “But it’s going to help your pain.”
“Hey. It’s just been so long since I’ve had a good home-cooked meal. I appreciate the effort, anyway.”
Smiling broadly at him, she returned from the kitchen. “I’m Iris.”
At that, Derek rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. I know whoyouare.”
She recoiled, becoming sadder and more distant as her hospitable smile turned into a frown.
“Why? Because all packless healers are the same?”
He grinned in response, ignoring the sudden change in tone.
“Well, no. I would never be so judgmental as to dismiss somebody based on their rank. It’s because it would have been impossible not to notice your beauty and talent.”
At first, Iris said nothing, even as she raised a fisted hand to cover her cheeks. Then Derek noticed the faint crimson hue of a blush overtaking her.
“So what do we do about this?” Iris asked, her hand still covering her face.
“Well, I suspect I’ll be back up to walking before long. It’s going to be difficult, but I’m very well provided for in your care.”
At that, Iris shook her head.
“No, not that,” she said. “About the bond.”
Derek thought for a moment, taking his chin in hand.
“I don’t know what there is to do about it. It feels like it’s already kind of been decided.”
He noted the despair in Iris’s eyes at the mere suggestion.
“But I don’t even know who you are. Are you really okay with the trajectory of our lives being decided by this?”
