They Called My Father a Traitor, So I Learned Every Secret They Buried novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: The Seal That Lied

Kestrel caught my wrist before my fingers touched the clinic register.

'Why is my name beneath a false patient entry, Wynn?'

His grip was firm enough to stop me and careful enough to leave no mark. He had learned where my bones were weak. I had taught him.

'Because your real name is currently attached to a charge that ends with your body on a post.'

'That is a serious administrative inconvenience.'

'You're welcome.'

His thumb shifted once against the inside of my wrist. The contact lasted longer than it needed to. My hand stayed where he held it.

Kestrel watched my face. He always watched too closely when pain made him quiet. Fever had sharpened him instead of dulling him, and now his attention moved over me with the same care I used on torn muscle.

'You altered the register before Breda arrived,' he said.

'No. I left the old entry and added a second one.'

'That distinction appears important to you.'

'It is important to the person who reads the page after you're dead.'

The corner of his mouth moved. It was not quite amusement. Kestrel had a dry sense of humor and an unfortunate habit of using it when blood loss should have been his only concern.

He released my wrist.

The clinic door opened above us. Boots struck the watchtower stairs. Three people came down, and only one of them knew how to touch a sick animal without making it worse.

Breda entered first with a sealed order in her hand. Oswin followed, carrying a folded document against his chest. Two patrol guards came behind them with their hands near their knives.

Breda had trained me in this room before the pack decided my hands were useful only when they belonged to someone else.

Her gaze moved from Kestrel to me, then to the register.

'Wynn Sablewood,' she said. 'By order of Alpha Corvin, I am to inspect the enemy Alpha held in this clinic and determine whether you have unlawfully assumed possession of him.'

'You may inspect his wounds.'

'That is not what the order says.'

'Then the order is badly written.'

Oswin unfolded the paper. His face held the careful blankness of a man who had spent years making ink responsible for his choices.

'The order permits examination of the prisoner, the premises, and all records relating to his treatment,' he said. 'It also requires immediate surrender of any claim you have made over him.'

'My claim is healer's duty.'

'That category does not appear in the order.'

'It appears in every wound you sent me.'

Breda's fingers tightened around the seal. She had once told me I possessed a gift the pack had never seen. She had said she would sponsor my certification when the time came.

Now she looked at my hands before she looked at my face.

'You should cooperate,' she said. 'If I refuse the inspection, Corvin will close this clinic.'

There it was. The old promise, stripped down to its useful part.

She would preserve the room. She would let them decide who was allowed to work inside it.

Kestrel moved between us, one hand braced against the table. His injured side pulled tight beneath the bandage, but he did not show the pain.

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