(Kaelen)
The healer's name is Mira and she has the particular quality of someone who has seen everything and is not impressed by any of it, including an alpha who will not move.
"I need room," she says. Not unkindly. Firmly.
"You have room," Theron says. He's still holding my hand. He hasn't let go since the forest. We're in the healer's wing now — I'm not entirely clear on how we got here, the journey from the eastern border has a blurred quality, pain doing what pain does to time — and I'm on a low bed and Mira is trying to get to my shoulder and Theron is directly in her way and showing no awareness of this whatsoever.
"Alpha." Mira looks at him. "I need to clean the wound and I cannot do that with you sitting where you're sitting."
He looks at her. Then at me.
"Move eighteen inch
