Chapter 3: Unfamiliar Feelings
1612 Words
Cara's POV
"I need to go out and gather some herbs," I said, keeping my voice casual as I stirred the tea in my hand.
The man—whose name I still didn't know—looked up at me from where he sat on the bed. His face fell immediately.
"You're leaving?" He sounded like a child being told his mother was going away.
"Just for a few hours. I need to restock my supplies." I held out the cup to him. "Here, drink this. It'll help soothe the pain in your throat."
He took the cup but didn't drink. He just stared at me with those eyes. Big and bright and sad, like a puppy watching its owner walk away.
My chest tightened. "What?"
"Can't I come with you?"
"No. You're still healing. You need rest, not a hike through the forest." I pushed the cup closer to his mouth. "Drink."
He pouted but brought the cup to his lips and drank it all in one go.
"Good," I whispered, taking the empty cup from him. "Now please lie down."
"You'll come back soon?" His eyelids were already getting heavy. The sleeping potion was working fast.
"Yes."
"You promise?" His words were starting to become slurred.
"I promise."
He smiled, soft and sleepy, then lay back on the bed. “What's your name, beautiful healer?”
My heart fluttered, “I'm Cara,”
“Cara,” he repeated slowly, as if trying to memorize every detail of the name. I wanted to ask him about his, but paused. I don't even know if he remembered that part of himself.
As if reading my mind, his grin widened. “I'm Uriel. At least that's the only thing I can remember.”
I nodded, watching his lashes finally flutter shut.
I let out a deep breath I never knew I was holding and adjusted him properly on the bed. But before I could withdraw my hand, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist and I almost yelped.
“Please…don't leave me…don't go…please, I don't want to be alone...” He murmured, his eyes still shut. His voice was soft, broken… like someone familiar with pain.
My heart raced so fast, I couldn't hear the rest of the words he said because his voice got more low, fading off.
My heart clenched like a string was being pulled.
Why did it feel so familiar?
Why did it remind me of myself.
I stared at him for a long while, feeling my heart soften dangerously the more I look at him.
Within seconds, his breathing evened out and he was unconscious.
I stood there for another moment, just watching him sleep. His face looked peaceful now. The lines of pain that had been etched around his eyes and mouth were gone.
“Are we going to heal him before he wakes up or not?” Mia's voice drew me back to reality.
I shook my head and turned away. I had work to do.
Once I was sure he was completely out, I sat down beside him and placed my hands over his chest. I closed my eyes and let Mia take over.
Warmth spread from my palms into his body. I could feel the damage inside him—the bruising in his lungs, the inflammation in his throat, the small fractures that hadn't fully healed yet. Mia's healing power flowed through me like water, finding every injury and mending it piece by piece.
Sweat beaded on my forehead. This kind of deep healing always drained me, but I couldn't do it while he was awake. He couldn't know what I really was. Not yet. Maybe not even ever.
After what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, I pulled my hands back. His breathing was deeper now, stronger. The worst of his internal injuries were healed.
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and stood up, my legs a little shaky.
"Good work," Mia said softly. “You're getting stronger.”
"Thanks."
Mia once said a healing vessel needed to be very strong. She said I needed to get stronger to wield more healing powers.
That was why the healing of my eyes was taking longer than supposed. She couldn't exert all her energy when my body wasn't ready.
After another quick glance at the sleeping man, I grabbed my bag and headed out into the forest.
The mountain was quiet except for the sound of birds and the wind moving through the trees. I walked through the familiar paths, gathering the herbs I actually did need. Yarrow for wounds. Chamomile for sleep. Feverfew for headaches.
My hands moved like they knew what they wanted, picking and sorting, but my mind was somewhere else.
Back in that room with him—Uriel.
I kept seeing his face. That look he gave me before I left. Those big, hopeful eyes watching me like I was the only thing in his world that mattered.
Something in my chest shifted. Something I hadn't felt in a long, long time.
It was warm. Soft. Almost painful in how unfamiliar it was.
I stopped walking and pressed my hand against my beating chest.
When was the last time someone looked at me like that? Like they wanted me to stay? Like they'd miss me when I was gone?
Not since before the m******e. Not since my parents were alive.
For months, it had just been me and Mia. Alone on this mountain. Training. Planning. Surviving. Every day focused on one thing—revenge. Getting strong enough to go back and make them pay for what they did.
My world had been nothing but anger and hate and the cold, empty ache of loss.
But now…
Now there was someone else in my space. Someone who smiled at me. Who looked at me with warmth instead of fear or hatred. Who made me feel like I was more than just a weapon being sharpened for violence.
"You like him," Mia said suddenly.
I nearly dropped the herbs in my hand.
"What? No."
"You do. I can feel it."
“There's nothing you're feeling. You're in my head. Any feelings you're picking up are your own."
Mia laughed. "Nice try. But I know the difference between your emotions and mine. And right now? You're practically glowing."
Heat rushed to my face. "I am not."
"You are. Every time he looks at you with those puppy eyes, your heart does this little flutter thing. It's actually kind of cute you know."
"Mia, stop." I shoved more herbs into my bag, harder than necessary.
"I'm just saying—"
"I don't like him. I don't even know him." I started walking again, faster now. "I've just been alone too long, that's all. Anyone would feel... something... if they suddenly had company after months of isolation."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm serious. It's not feelings. It's just... loneliness. My brain is just confused because I'm not used to having another person around."
"Sure. That's definitely all it is."
I stopped and glared internally. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to be honest. With yourself, at least."
"I am being honest." My hands clenched around the strap of my bag. "Look, even if—and I'm saying if—I did feel something, it doesn't matter. We have a plan, Mia. We've been working toward this for months. Revenge. That's what matters.
That's the only thing that matters."
Mia was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, warmer. "Revenge isn't going to fill the emptiness, Cara."
My throat tightened. "It's not about filling anything. It's about getting justice. It's about making them pay for what they did to our family. To our tribe."
"I know. And we will. But that doesn't mean you have to cut yourself off from everything else. From every other feeling."
"I'm not cutting myself off from anything. I'm just staying focused."
"You're scared."
That word hit me like a slap. "I'm not—"
"You are. You're scared that if you let yourself feel something for him, it'll make you weak. It'll distract you from the plan. You're scared of losing someone again."
I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out.
She was right.
I was terrified.
Because the truth was, every time I looked at him, every time he smiled at me or said something sweet or looked at me like I was important—I felt the ice around my heart crack just a little bit more.
And that terrified me.
Because caring about someone meant having something to lose. And I couldn't afford to lose anything else.
I can't drag him into my dark world.
"We stick to the plan," I said finally, my voice sharp and resolved. "He'll heal. And then he'll leave. That's it."
Mia didn't respond.
I finished gathering the herbs in silence and started the walk back.
When I got back to the cave, he was still asleep. I put my bag down and sat in the chair across from the bed, just watching him.
His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. One of his hands was curled up near his face, relaxed and peaceful like a young pup.
My heart did that stupid flutter thing again.
I quickly looked away.
"Stick to the plan," I whispered to myself.
But even as I said it, I knew it was already too late.
Something had changed. Something in me had woken up that I thought had died.
And I didn't know if I could put it back to sleep.
- Writer
