Chapter 6 The Healer's Quadrant

• [XENA]
• I return to my quarters drenched, water dripping from my gown and hair, my slippers leaving a trail of wet footprints behind me. I peel off my clothing piece by piece, my fingers stiff from cold, while Kasumi kneels by the hearth, coaxing the fire to life.
• Without my wolf, I am fragile. A stray breeze chills me to the bone; a simple cold could kill me just as easily as it kills humans.
• Kasumi pats my hair dry in soft strokes. I murmur my thanks, dismiss her gently, and wait until the door closes. Only then do I wrap the towel tighter around my head and step into my bedchamber.
• The moment I enter, I halt.
• Rose petals cover the sheets in a delicate scarlet scatter.
• My breath leaves me in a single, painful rush. I almost forgot.
• I had told Kasumi to prepare the bed—to decorate it beautifully—because tonight was supposed to be the night I tell Cassian I am ready. My lunar energy is stable, so I can give him a child.
• I believed he waited for me. I thought he’d been patient, that he withheld himself to keep me safe.
• But all along… he was getting everything he wanted—just not from me.
• I walk to the bed and grab fistfuls of petals and sheets, tearing them apart with a savage strength I didn’t know I still possessed. Fabric rips. Feathers spill. The bed looks as ruined as I feel.
• I storm back out and snatch Morrin’s scroll from the table where I left it before going to the temple. The parchment trembles in my hands.
• I read the words one last time—Lunar essence steady. Conception viable.
• Hope. A future. A lie.
• I lower the scroll to the hungry mouth of the hearth. Fire catches instantly, devouring ink and promise alike. I let the flames lick up the final corner before I turn away and carry it to the bed. Our marriage bed—the place Cassian touched me while lying in another woman’s arms. The stage where he played the part of a devoted husband while betraying me in silence.
• The scroll drops from my fingers and lands atop the shredded sheets. Fire spreads in a breath, racing across the fabric, consuming rose petals and pillows and memories.
• I stand there silently, watching the bed burn, along with my marriage.
• ***
• “Luna… how did this happen?” Kasumi asks, wringing her apron, worry etched across her face as she steps closer to where I lie wrapped in linen bandages on one of the beds in the Healer’s Quadrant.
• I turn my face toward the wall, wincing as the movement pulls at the burn along my neck. “A candle fell,” I lie. “The flame caught my gown. I wasn’t careful.”
• I’m too tired to invent anything better.
• Stupid. Reckless. Heartbreak made me blind, and now my arms and stomach carry the price.
• I’ve been here since last night. Morrin and her assistants come and go—checking my pulse, changing wrappings, whispering about my wolflessness and slow recovery. But through it all, I only wanted Kasumi beside me.
• Cassian hasn’t shown up.
• Hours pass. I know he’s aware of what happened. He simply doesn’t care.
• When I try to sit up, pain slices through my stomach. The few injured wolves scattered across nearby cots glare at me like I’m a curse come to life.
• I close my eyes, inhaling slowly to steady myself—until a familiar scent hits me.
• Cassian’s scent. Except it’s not him.
• Astrid walks in, clutching her sleeves. She pales when she meets my stare, eyes darting away.
• My fists curl. “What do you want?”
• “Alpha Cassian sent me,” she whispers. “He wants to know… when you can leave for your father’s name day celebration. He says there’s been too much delay.”
• I snort. That’s his concern? Prompt arrival at my father’s estate?
• I tilt my head, masking my disappointment. “Why did he send you? You’re a healer. Conveying messages between an Alpha and his Luna isn’t part of your duty.”
• “He—he thought—perhaps—”
• “That’s enough.” I lift a hand. “I’ll see the Alpha myself.”
• I swing my legs off the bed. Pain tears through me as the bandages stretch, but I bite it back.
• Kasumi rushes forward. “Luna, you shouldn’t walk—please—lie down—”
• “I’m fine,” I grit out.
• I’m not. My body feels aflame. If I still had Vera, these wounds would be nearly healed. But without her, I’m nothing more than a breakable woman.
• Still, I move forward.
• ***
• Cassian sits at his desk, reading scrolls with the ease of someone who cares about nothing outside himself. When he looks up and finally notices my condition, he pauses.
• “I didn’t know you were hurt so badly,” he says—then sighs like my injuries inconvenience him.
• I steady myself against the bench. “You’d know if you came to the healer’s quadrant.”
• His eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting me to respond at all. “Oh. Well,” he mutters, clearing his throat, “I was busy. I didn’t think you expected me to come.”
• “I didn’t.”
• He shifts. Where is the meek woman he married? The one who bent under every word he uttered? Perhaps he thinks pain makes me bold. He puts away his scrolls and stands.
• “You’re not a pup to be coddled,” he snaps.
• “Right,” I hum.
• His gaze drops to my bandages. “What did Morrin say? In the scroll you received?”
• I meet his eyes. I know exactly what he’s asking, but I play dumb. “Scroll?”
• His jaw tightens. “Xena. I heard you received one.”
• “Oh.” I nod slowly. “It said what it always says. My lunar energy is still unstable.”
• His shoulders drop instantly, relief softening his expression before he masks it. He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.
• “Someday soon, Xena. You’ll be alright. And then we can try to have a child.”
• I turn my head away, disgust curling inside me. “Of course.”
• He moves back to his table, picking up a ledger. “Go now. We leave in two hours. Be ready.”
• My face stays neutral. Inside, rage burns.
• ***
• Morrin scolds me the moment I return. “You shouldn’t be walking! Your burns won’t heal.”
• I lower myself onto the bed, the pain sharp enough to bring tears to my eyes. Kasumi arrives with a bowl.
• “It’s from the healer,” she says.
• I freeze. That smell. That murky green tint. The same broth I’ve been forced to drink every morning for three years.
• I always wondered why it never helped.
• Knotgrass. A poison. One that suppresses lunar energy. One Cassian ensured I drank.
• My hand shoots out, gripping Kasumi’s wrist. The bowl crashes, spilling across the floor.
• Kasumi gasps. “L-Luna?”
• “Do you know what you’ve been giving me?” I demand.
• She shakes her head, trembling. “N-no! Luna, I swear—I only bring what I’m told! I don’t know what’s inside!”
• I release her. She rubs her wrist, eyes wet.
• “Where do you get it?” I ask.
• “T-the medicine division,” she whispers. “It used to come from Niveen… but lately… it’s the healer—Astrid—who gives it to me.”
• Of course. Astrid again.
• When Kasumi finally recovers, she kneels beside me and gently cleans my burns. The cool water stings, but I don’t flinch. My heart feels heavier than any wound.
• Nothing and no one. I’m alone.
• I can’t trust Cassian. Can’t trust Davina. Can’t trust the healers. Not even the Goddess who let this happen.
• Only myself.
• I stare into the water. My reflection stares back—pale, hollow, bandaged—until the surface ripples.
• A wolf’s head flashes. Dark eyes blazing.
• I jerk back, heart pounding. I know that mark.
• The man at the temple. The stranger I handed bread to.
• Who is he? And why does the thought of him pull at something inside me?
• Kasumi touches my arm. “Luna? Are you alright?”
• “Yes,” I say—but my mind drifts far away.
• I want to go back to the temple, see him again. I want to know why that mark appeared in the water. Why my reflection changed.
• I want answers.