The Midwife

POV Rhea By the time they carried the fourth wounded wolf into my tent, the blood on my hands had started to dry. “Set him there,” I said, pointing to the cot beside the brazier. The men carrying him hesitated. The cot was already occupied by a young scout with a bandaged leg and a fever. The other two beds held wolves who’d been brought in before dawn. “There’s no room,” one of them said. “Then put him on the floor. Carefully.” They lowered the unconscious wolf onto a folded blanket. His breathing came in shallow, ragged pulls. I pressed my fingers to his throat and felt his pulse fluttering beneath the skin. “How long ago was he hit?” “An hour, maybe.” An hour. He’d been bleeding in the cold for an hour before someone carried him here. I reached for clean cloth. “Keep the brazier going. He needs warmth.” The scout on the cot stirred and groaned. I looked from him to the new arrival, trying to decide who needed me most. There were only two of my hands, two eyes, and one body that tired like any other human’s. Outside, the battlefield rumbled with distant shouts. The injured kept coming. The able-bodied kept carrying them back to me. I could help them once they reached the tent. I could clean wounds, stitch torn flesh, set bones when they weren’t too badly broken. I could keep pressure on a wound and talk a frightened wolf through the pain. But I couldn’t reach them where they fell. “Rhea!” Alpha Pluto’s voice cut through the canvas. I nearly dropped the cloth. He strode inside, bringing the chill with him. His gaze swept over the crowded tent and stopped on the wolf on the floor. “How long has he been here?” “Just arrived.” “And how long before that?” “I don’t know. They said an hour.” His jaw tightened. “You need to be closer to the fighting.” I looked down at my bloodied hands. “I can’t work out there.” “You’re a healer. The wounded need you where they fall, not after they’ve been carried halfway across the field.” “I know.” My voice came out too small. “But I can’t...” “Can’t what?” I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk back. I didn’t want to sound like I was making excuses while wolves died outside. “I can’t shift,” I said. “I can’t keep warm out there. I can’t move quickly enough to reach everyone. If the enemy gets close, I can’t protect myself.” “You have guards.” “Guards who are fighting.” His eyes hardened. “Then stay behind the line. I’m not asking you to win a battle. I’m asking you to save lives.” Heat crawled up my neck. I wanted to tell him I was trying. I wanted him to look at the crowded tent, at the wounded I’d kept breathing through the night, and see that I was doing everything I could. Instead, I lowered my eyes. “Yes, Alpha.” He watched me for a moment, clearly waiting for more. When I said nothing, he turned toward the exit. “Tomorrow, you’ll set up closer to the eastern line. I expect you to be ready.” The canvas flap fell behind him. I stood still, listening to the battle beyond the tent. My hands trembled. I pressed them together until they stopped. I was almost thirty years old. Every wolf in the pack had shifted by now—or at least had a wolf they could call on when they needed strength, speed, warmth. I had only this human body, and every day Pluto made sure I understood how little it could do. The injured wolf on the floor groaned. I knelt beside him. “I’m here,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure he could hear me. “I’ll do what I can.” So I did. I cleaned the wound and stitched it closed. I kept the brazier fed. I moved from bed to bed, checking fevers and changing bandages until the sky beyond the tent turned gray. By the time the fighting eased, the scout with the fever had stopped shaking. The wolf on the floor was breathing steadily. I sat back on my heels, exhausted, and let myself imagine that it was enough. A runner appeared at the entrance. “Alpha Pluto wants you in the hall.” My stomach tightened. “Now?” “He said now.” I washed my hands as best I could and followed him through the camp. Wolves moved around me with purpose, carrying weapons and supplies. I kept my head down, careful not to get in anyone’s way. Pluto stood at the head of the hall. A few senior wolves sat around the table, their faces drawn from days of fighting. He didn’t invite me to sit. “You’ll turn thirty in six days,” he said. “Yes, Alpha.” “It’s time you were settled. Your wedding will take place on your birthday.” My fingers curled against my palms. “Who am I marrying?” “Grud.” For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I knew Grud. I had stitched the split skin over his knuckles after he struck one of his mates. I had treated the woman’s bruised ribs the next morning. I’d cleaned blood from another woman’s mouth while Grud waited outside the infirmary, impatient for her to return to his house. Pluto watched me. “You’ll do your duty to the pack.” I lowered my eyes. “Yes, Alpha.” But inside, something had gone very still. Six days. Then Grud would have the right to take me home with him. And I had finally run out of ways to tell myself I could endure it.