“The beast is a monster,” he muttered to her. He passed her and went back to his desk.

  Em looked over at the table.

  This one had many straps attached to it. She could tell based on where the straps were attached to the table, even though only three of them were fully visible. These three wrapped around the outside of Asher’s blanket.

  She glanced away when Asher looked at her.

  Her insides cringed with guilt. It was… horrible… to see him strapped down like that.

  “What are we doing today?”

  “There’s a scar on his left bicep I’d like to do our experime- our trial run on. Think you can handle that much for today? Or is it too much? I know you have a busy day tomorrow.”

  Em grimaced.

  “Don’t remind me,” she muttered. Then she cleared her throat. “How big is it?”

  As Sager described the scope of the task, she listened intently. Aware of a prickling on the back of her neck. If she turned around, would she find Asher staring at her? Her stomach clenched.

  Unconsciously, she pressed a fist to her stomach.

  The aching had gone from uncomfortable, emotional reactions to severe pain. Usually, the pain was worse in the middle of the night, but she could feel it creeping in now.

  As they talked, Sager was careful to avoid mentioning her healing ability.

  It was a secret that they hid even from the patients. That would leave Asher wondering why in the heck they were planning to do what they were doing. But as far as Sager was concerned, Asher didn’t have a voice in the proceedings, anyway.

  “That should be fine.”

  “Good.” Sager stood up, took one step toward Asher, then stopped. “I forgot something inside. Will you be alright alone for a moment?”

  Em nodded. The doctor once again opened the outside door and strode out.

  “Run in if your mistress screams,” she faintly heard him order.

  Em slowly approached the table, heart pounding. Her stomach twisted even more painfully, and she was unaware she was cupping it.

  For the first time, she met Asher’s angry eyes.

  What could she say? Sager was treating him like property, his new master wasn’t giving him any choice, and she… she was willingly complying because… because…

  And even though he’d been fighting his restraints, he seemed to know he had no power.

  Powerless.

  That was such an awful, awful feeling.

  She pulled a stool over and sat down so she was closer to his eye level.

  “I’m a healer,” she informed him. She couldn’t see his body, but she was sure it stiffened like his jaw. “We’ll be using an alchemy potion that deadens pain. You need to tell me if it’s not working.”

  It was a lie, but telling him anything else didn’t seem like a good idea.

  Yet.

  If ever.

  If she could get him all fixed up and send him on his way, that was the best thing to do for both of them. Then she could watch on the sidelines as he faced down Thiago in the future.

  He glared at her.

  “Today, we’ll try to remove one of your scars.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. Doubtful. Resentful.

  Angry.

  She read it all in his face.

  She tried to keep her eyes soft. Unconsciously hunching up under that harsh gaze.

  “If we succeed, we’ll be patching you up completely. It’ll take weeks, maybe months. Because we can’t make blood loss an issue. But then you’ll walk away without even a limp from that leg of yours. Can you imagine how it’ll be to be completely better? All your strength and movement back?”

  For the first time, there was a spark of interest in his eyes.

  Was that really all it took to smooth things over?

  Encouraged but still feeling sick, she tried to make her eyes smile. Unaware that it failed.

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  His voice was hoarse from growling.

  “Then you’ll be out of here a lot sooner. A few weeks at most.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He closed his eyes and turned his chin away. Thinking.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Em shifted uncomfortably. Clenching her fists in her lap.

  “Doctor Sager isn’t a cruel man. He cares whether his patients live or die, regardless of their status. He just… sometimes forgets that other species are also people.”

  “So?”

  “So, I thought you deserved to know what was going on. Instead of guessing and stressing about it.”

  He breathed slowly. Evenly. Then he opened his eyes again and looked at her.

  “I know your scent.”

  She stiffened. “What?”

  “I can’t place it, but I know your scent. Where have we met before?”

  She opened her mouth and closed it, aware he couldn’t see her face… and wondering if she was glad he couldn’t. Maybe she should tell him? We met at that hunting party eight years ago. Remember? I stopped you from attacking Thiago…

  Somehow, that didn’t seem like a good idea.

  Not knowing that he must’ve gone straight to the bottom of hell since then. He might even resent her for stopping him from taking both his enemy and an early death.

  She swallowed and was more than a little relieved when Sager suddenly returned.

  Sager wasted no more time.

  He undid the top straps and pulled the blanket off Asher. Revealing he’d already prepped the lycan, who was tied down with his arm propped at the right angle. And the drip was already attached to his other arm.

  Em turned on the drip and watched Asher fight until he couldn’t anymore. Finally, falling asleep.

  The theory was simple.

  Healing new wounds was easy. Infuse until the desired amount of healing was achieved (or the mage was exhausted). There was no guesswork beyond making sure the wound was clean.

  So, they simply made the old wound a new one.

  Sager carefully carved away the entire scar. Going down as deep as the scar tissue went. It was done bit by bit. So he didn’t cause excessive bleeding between Em’s intermittent healing of the new wound.

  It took over an hour to cut it away and re-heal it.

  The scar was about as big as her hand. Big enough that they would know without guessing if it was gone. Halfway through, Sager’s excitement was mounting. He started whistling as he sliced away skin, flesh, and muscle. Tossing it all on a small pile on the nearby worktable.

  It was disgusting, that growing pile. Exacerbating Em’s already painful stomach.

  Finally, they were done.

  Sager continued to whistle as he dumped the operation tools into a sanitation vault and started a cycle for cleaning.

  Em, meanwhile, touched Asher’s arm where the scar had been.

  You’d never guess he was ever scarred there.

  The skin was new and unblemished, as beautiful as his face.

  This is where I’m useful, she thought. I can do this. I’m a failure at business. I’m a failure at politics. I’m a failure at spying.

  But this… I can do this.

  She smiled.

  Maybe… maybe she’d be canceling more appointments in the future. Eileen will probably hit her again, but it didn’t matter.

  If I can get the ‘lost prince’ on his feet, there’s hope for everyone.

  ***

  He stared up at the man who’d murdered his whole family.

  Not only family. This was the man responsible for the takeover of his nation, the enslavement of his people, and gods knew what else.

  He was surrounded by other people who were determined to kiss his butt and keep him on his pedestal.

  Had it only been a few weeks since Asher nearly charged through a crowd to kill this man?

  No… no, this all happened years ago… both events happened years ago…

  But the shame of this moment was still there. It curled into his soul like a viper. Ready to strike his heart and poison him with its venom.

  Once again, he faced death.

  But this time, he couldn’t move. He knew who his enemy was. Crown Prince Thiago was right there in front of him… Around him, his memories blurred the people together. The ballroom dimmed.

  It was just him… and the monster.

  No, wait.

  It wasn’t just him and the monster.

  The little girl, holding the hand of someone he couldn’t remember, watched him with desperate, big eyes. He remembered. While the monster was talking about killing him, while he was freezing and panicking, he looked at her.

  She looked away at that moment. Talking to the man she was with…

  I’m dreaming.

  He stated it as a simple matter of fact, not sure if he spoke it ‘aloud’ or if he only thought it. Technically, he only thought it regardless of what his dream mouth was doing.

  Still, like then, he stared at her. As though the little seeress could save him.

  For some reason… despite his shame and fear… it was her features, her words from before, that offered comfort.

  Then even more agonizing shame.

  “Wait. You’ll get another chance.”

  He’d waited. He’d gotten another chance.

  But he wasn’t ready this time.

  And he froze.

  Completely froze.

  Asher opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Recalling the day Thiago had almost killed him in a ballroom eight years ago.

  “Emmaline Grimshaw.”

  That’s what the knight called her that day. He didn’t remember it right away afterward. It took a while to sift through the names Lady Arnold mentioned, but he was almost certain. And with some casual questions to other servants, he became even more confident he’d gotten the name right.

  She matched the description of the young lady the servants described.

  Emmaline Grimshaw.

  The sister of a Marquis who had taken over territory in his homeland.

  A high-ranking young noblewoman who should have been looking for a marriage partner.

  What was she doing wearing a veil and working as a doctor’s assistant? If he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, he could still faintly smell her scent. It lingered in the room like it was her ghost.

  Someone who had twice saved his life.

  He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  Emmaline Grimshaw.

  How many times had he growled that name under his breath? Just to make sure he didn’t forget. In case he ever talked to her again.

  He pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw.

  He didn’t know what she wanted. Or if she was on his side or not. Maybe she had some ulterior motive to make the claims she did (after all, she was a damned human).

  But, if he was going to be stuck here… strapped to a bed and forced to endure these surgeries… this was his chance to find out.

  Find out what she wanted.

  And what she knew.

  ***

  He wasn’t her primary reason for enduring the memorial. Her main reason was to keep a low profile and contact people who might be helpful with her ‘black market’ ideas. And, honestly, it had only been a few weeks since she last saw her brother.

  So why did she react like it had been years?

  When she was announced at the door, she saw him immediately abandon his conversation and come striding toward her. So, she couldn’t not be just as enthusiastic about meeting him.

  Lifting her skirts so they’d hang mid-calf, she went from a walk to a dash.

  All the while, she ignored the scandalous looks and mutters of “how childish” that swirled around her. And the feeling of Eileen’s angry glare on her back.

  Flint hugged her, which only made the whisperers comment more.

  “Not only childish… undignified… unbecoming display of affection…”

  “How’ve you been?”

  She swallowed. “Fine,” she lied.

  Actually, this morning she cried while dragging herself out of bed. Her stomach pains were so bad that Annie had to run for a glass of milk and honey. As well as some crackers. All to help her calm it down.

  Then she avoided eating all day to prevent agitating the problem.

  “Hmm.”

  Flint let her go and stepped back.

  Em would never be as tall as him, but she no longer had to crane her neck at a huge angle to see his face. With him only half a foot taller than her now, she only needed to tilt her chin a little to see his eyes.

  Which were full of concern.

  Could he tell she was lying?

  Fretfully, she put her hands behind her back to hide their fidgeting.

  Which only clued him in more.

  “When the memorial is over,” he told her gruffly, “you have two orders.”