MY HEALER

CHAPTER TWO

Luther’s POV

Omega barracks were located at the far end of the Pack grounds, away from training fields and away from the larger dens occupied by ranked wolves. In my younger days, I had passed the building many times but had never really thought about it.

The building was a simple and shabby one with a drooping roof and small windows that admitted as much cold as light. The wolves that were assigned there were the ones that no one noticed unless they had failed in something. I was one of them now.

My two warrior escorts were silent on the trip. They didn't have to. They were silent with a sort of contentment. Before we were even in the barracks, I could see eyes watching me from all directions. Some wolves gaped at me. Others averted their gaze, but their noses revealed their curiosity. The fallen heir was back. Not to take back what he has lost, but to seek assistance.

One of the warriors opened the door and indicated that I should come in. The first thing I noticed was the smell of sweat and damp earth, the musty odour of too many wolves in too little space. There were narrow cots in rows along the walls.

The moment I went inside, there were no more conversations. Twelve pairs of eyes were looking at me. A few people remembered me. There were some surprise faces and some amusement faces. Most of them looked on the matter with a curious introspection and a sense of expectancy, as if they had heard rumours and were waiting to find out if it was true. One of the escorts spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Luther is put here by order of Alpha Lucas. Until further notice, he has no rank and is subject to the same rules as all the other wolves in this barracks.”

There was a rustle of whispers around the room. The warriors left without another word. I stood there for a few moments, each muscle in me screaming to take a step back and continue with my journey until the Pack borders were behind me. Rather, I tried to get moving.

A wolf with a scar across his jaw, an older one, shook his head towards an empty cot, near the back wall. “That one’s yours.”

His tone was not hostile, but only very practical. I put my little pack on the cot and sat down slowly, waiting for the dizziness to go. This noise slowly resumed until it was back to the normal level, but the tone was kept low. I knew what they were thinking; I would have thought the same thing once. What a fall this was for him. I would never have expected it to be as far as the answer was.

Before dawn, the healers came to me. Two wolves brought me to the infirmary, a big stone building near the centre of the Pack. I remembered things I didn't really want to think about again: the smell of the medicinal herbs.

When I was a child, I had spent more time there than most wolves my age. I had been suffering from recurring fevers and unusual spells of weakness for as long as I could remember, and my mother had always insisted that they needed to be addressed. I had taken her concern on the chin when it was offered, at the time. Now, when I was lying on a treatment table with the healers looking at me, those memories came back vividly, and to me, they were disturbing.

A stern woman named Miriam pressed a cool hand to my forehead, a healer.

“Your fever is still high,” she said.

A dark liquid was made with a mix of crushed herbs. They asked questions that I couldn't answer. For how long had the symptoms been getting worse? Could I have been tainted with poison? If I had met new scoundrels or monsters? Do I have strange dreams?

I had an unfinished thought in my mind, the last question. I had. For months, sleep had become increasingly restless. My sleep was filled with images I didn't know, voices I had never heard. Whenever I had to get up, I could only remember that something was calling me to something I did not understand. I didn't want to bring that up.

At the end of the examination, Miriam folded her hands and looked at me thoughtfully. “Well, we don't know why,” she said, “but your body is being strained to an extreme; whatever it is, it is causing changes we don't yet understand.”

I met her gaze. “Can you treat it?”

“We can control the symptoms and stabilize you, but we'll need to wait and see.”

It was not the certainty that I had hoped for, but it was more than the rogues had been able to offer. It was the first time in weeks that I felt something dangerous, like relief.

The life lived in the Omega barracks had taken away whatever pride I had. I got up before dawn and did all the same chores that were given to wolves half my age and suffered the humiliation of living at the bottom of the hierarchy that I had hoped to ascend. I washed the training fields. Stacked firewood. Washed the blood from the floors of the infirmary. Some of the wolves didn't look at me at all. Some enjoyed reminding me that I was now a new man.

As I walked by, one of them said, “Careful with that bucket, prince.” Laughter followed. I kept walking.

The disease got better gradually. Fevers were not completely eradicated, but became less frequent. Sometimes, at random times, a burst of energy would flow through me so strongly that I would not have been able to fit anything under my skin. My senses were heightened to excruciating levels. I could hear voices from far, far away, and smell fragrances hidden in the depths of earth and stone. Then the feelings would die down as suddenly as they had come. It was the healers' word for progress. I was not so sure.

Lucas summoned me two weeks after my return. The Alpha house was the same one I remembered, but not quite as large as it once was, as if my years away had taken some of its former glory. When I entered, Lucas was by the window. He slowly turned to take a measured look at me, like he had done the day I returned.

“You're better looking,” he told me.

“You have skillful healers.”

A slight smile played on his lips. “High praise.”

I remained standing.

He poured himself another drink and pointed at the chair across from his desk. I didn't accept the invitation. His eyes squeezed shut slightly.

“Still stubborn.”

“Still standing.” That elicited a short chortle.

“Well,” he said, “I wasn't sure that you'd live long enough to be of any use.” There it was. The truth, casually offered as the word for the weather.

I folded my arms. “So, how are you going to make use of me?”

Lucas took his time to respond. “The Pack remembers you,” he said. “They know what you were meant to be; they're sending a helpful message when you take your new role.”

My jaw closed up. “There are no people higher than you are.”

“Exactly.” He took a sip of his drink, never taking his eyes off of me. “But humiliation is not a good use of your abilities; this Pack can use you still.” I waited. “When you've recovered, you'll be training the lesser-ranked warriors and helping with border patrols.”

I took great note of his words. It was designed to be a very small assignment, but it was a valuable one to me. Access the Pack. It's politics. The advantages and disadvantages of it.

Lucas sat back in his seat at the desk. “You should understand,” he continued, “I don't confuse your willingness with your surrender.”

“We understand each other, then.”

Something flashed between us for a moment, like when we were children, a shared look that had to be understood. Then it vanished.

Lucas put his glass down. “Don't do anything rash while you are in my house, or I will complete what I started years ago.”

The threat was given in a calm tone to make it seem more believable. I held his gaze. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

His calmness was slightly disturbed this time, and his interest became palpable. I didn't have time to react before a blinding weight slammed into the back of my head. I clung to the edge of the chair to keep myself from falling. The room was made smaller. Every scent intensified. The heartbeats of Lucas resounded in my ears. He went silent.

“Luther?” I barely heard him.

A hotness I'd never felt before came rushing through me. The world was suddenly so sharp, so focused, it was like a different world. I could see dust motes floating, wolves practicing their hunting skills hundreds of yards away, and feel the unknown energy that had been itching under my skin for some time, until it had finally had enough. Then the feeling faded away.

I straightened slowly, trying to make my breathing normal. Now Lucas was looking at me with suspicion. “What was that?”

I released my grip from the chair. “Oh, I wish you could tell me.”

Sleep was plentiful and deep that night. I had a very vivid dream for the first time in months. Under a silver moon, I was in a large forest. I stood among the trees, which stood tall and silent before me, their trunks glowing with the light of day. There was a hint of familiarity in the air that I couldn't articulate. There was a figure standing in front of them, partially hidden in mist. I couldn't see its face. He didn't come up to me, but I sensed his presence, and I felt a sense of familiarity.

He lifted one hand and pointed somewhere in the distance, where a light was burning through the trees. Before I could call out, there was one flash of light. Then the forest was broken apart. I woke up suddenly, my heart pounding against my rib cage. The barracks were quiet around me, but the feeling of the dream remained heavy and profound.

I stood in silence for a few moments, looking into the darkness, hoping it was merely a feverish dream. But something had changed within me. It had been a desperate step back to the Pack. I thought that I would have to deal with Lucas' control until the healers gave me my strength back. I now began to suspect that the illness was merely the tip of a much more disturbing reality.

Lucas had been privy to even a bit of the drama in his office; it would not be long before he’d begin asking questions that I wasn't ready to answer.

As morning came, I lay awake, listening to the breathing of the surrounding wolves. I knew that my healing would attract more attention than I ever could with my weakness. But somewhere beyond the limits of my understanding, there was something, or rather someone, fighting to resurface.