No Longer Luna novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Healer's Hands

The Fernbank clinic had one exam table, one lamp, and a window that never fully closed.

I put Rhys on the table and cut off his sleeve with the big scissors.

"You'll need stitches," I said. "Eleven, maybe twelve."

"Do them."

"It'll hurt."

"Then do them fast."

I washed my hands twice, because it gave me something to do.

By then the pack had gone home. My father had taken the prisoner to the cellar with four wolves to guard him, and my mother had brought tea that nobody drank.

The clinic was quiet.

It was just the two of us, and the tear in his forearm, and the lamp.

I sat on the stool and pulled the arm into my lap.

His skin was hot, much hotter than a man's should be, and the bite had gone deep above the wrist.

"Terms," Rhys said.

I looked up.

"No private touching," he said. "You're about to touch me for twenty minutes."

"This is medical."

"Medical wasn't on the list."

"Then add it. Medical is exempt, and so is anything that bleeds."

His mouth moved at one corner.

"Fair."

I started on the first stitch.

He didn't flinch, and he didn't look away from my hands.

Every time I pulled the thread, a muscle jumped in his forearm and settled again.

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