Chapter 5 The base doctor: Blake

Zephyra

One moment, Carina's hand was tangled in my hair, the next, Maria was yanking me away, her grip surprisingly strong. She didn't stop to argue with the shouting rogues or the grim-faced enforcers.

She just dragged me, practically pulling me through the throng, her eyes fixed on some unseen destination. My ears still rang with the echoes of jeers and bets, the familiar, bitter taste of public humiliation stinging my tongue.

That destination, it turned out, was a small, well-maintained den tucked away from the main thoroughfares of Inferno's cavern system.

Maria steered me towards one of the chairs and gently pushed me down. "Stay put," she ordered, her voice firm despite the slight tremor in her hands. She hurried to a small, built-in cabinet, pulling out a basin of water, clean cloths, and a jar of thick, pungent salve.

"That... that was unnecessary," I muttered, my cheek stinging. But I know it's a lie, I thought-my jaw ached where Carina had landed a blow, and strands of my hair felt tender at the roots. Not to mention my muscles protested with every shift, reminding me of the exhaustion that still clung to my bones.

Maria knelt before me, carefully dabbing a damp cloth around a cut on my chin. "Unnecessary? Zephyra, she would have kept going until you were unconscious. You need to be careful here." Her concern was genuine, a fragile beacon in this harsh new world.

"I was careful," I retorted, wincing as she pressed the cloth harder. "We were on our way to leave, and she attacked me." The injustice of it still burned.

Maria sighed, her gaze softening with a familiar pity. "Carina...well, uhm" hesitant, she looked around as if someone could hear even when we're at their home. Then slowly, she leaned in, whispering the next words.

"She's been the most favored bed warmer here. And then you came. She feels... replaced. Besides, Carina has always been the bully so most girls don't dare cross her path." sighing, she continued.

"She's always picked on me when Deliah isn't around." She looked up, her kind eyes clouded. "Anyways, even with that trait of hers, she's careful when to mess around. His Majesty doesn't like unruly crowds in the base, so the knights won't tolerate open brawls like that, not unless it's in the training pits."

She applied the salve, its coolness a soothing balm. "Here, this will help with the bruising."

"So, what? I'm just supposed to let people walk all over us?" The words tasted bitter. It was the same feeling as Moonstone. The whispers, the shunning, the targets on my back. Just a different set of bullies.

"I'm tired of it, Maria." At least on here, I am not in a cell...I can at least put up a little fight to defend myself.

"No," Maria said softly, her hands now wrapping a fresh bandage around my forearm where Carina's nails had scratched deep.

"But you have to choose your battles. Deliah... she usually deals with Carina. That's because she's too much for me to handle alone." She looked away, a hint of shame in her expression. "It's how things are here. The strong rule, the rest... find their place."

The door creaked open again. The scent of fresh k*ll, bl*od and pine, filled the air. Deliah stepped inside, a large deer slung over her shoulder, its antlers brushing the top of the doorframe.

"What happened?" Deliah's voice was low, devoid of emotion, but there was an intensity that made the air thicken.

Her movements were fluid, powerful, her face streaked with dirt and a smear of blood near her cheekbone, but her eyes, as sharp and dark as ever, scanned the room. She froze when she saw me, her gaze flicking from my bandaged face to Maria's ministrations.

"It was Carina," Maria began, her voice still timid. "Again."

Just behind her, stepping through the doorway, was a tall, lean figure. He moved with a quiet authority that spoke of practiced command. His dark hair was neatly combed, his uniform pristine, despite accompanying someone clearly fresh from a hunt.

Perhaps my gaze lingered too long that he smiled and fixed his glasses. "Greetings. This is the first time I've seen you awake, Zephyra."

"You're Doctor Blake?"

With a nod, he cleared my suspicion before following Deliah to the round table, with her settling down her hunt, and him pulling a chair towards Maria and I. "I hope you didn't mind you're being examined unconsciously. It was the way of the base-healers move when the patient can't."

"I should have expected it. That viper never learns." Her voice was still flat, but I could feel the simmering anger beneath.

Blake Hemsworth stepped fully into the room, his gaze moving over me like a clinical scan. "Injuries?" he asked, his voice calm, direct, cutting through the lingering tension.

Maria nodded, gesturing to me. "Just some scratches and bruising. Nothing deep. I was just finishing up the first aid, doc."

Blake approached, his movements precise and unhurried. He knelt, not quite as close as Maria, but close enough to make me feel acutely aware of his scrutinizing gaze.

His fingers, surprisingly warm and calloused, gently tilted my chin, his gaze unflinching as he examined the cuts. He didn't just glance; he observed, his eyes taking in every detail of my face, my neck, the visible portions of my bandaged torso.

"Hm. These aren't just surface scrapes," Blake murmured, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw where a bruise was already blooming. "For someone I've been treating daily, you're quite brave to put more bruises for me to tend to."

"I just defended myself, doc."

"Naturally," Blake replied, a faint, almost imperceptible curl of his lip that might have been amusement, or perhaps just a trick of the light.

"But discretion is often a better weapon here than a fist." His gaze dropped to my hands, still trembling slightly, then moved to the bandages covering my forearm. "And your previous injuries... Moonstone was not gentle with its 'false luck,' was it?"

My breath hitched. How did he know about Moonstone? About my past injuries?

...ah. Malachi. He must have told his doctor everything.

"They had their reasons," I said, my voice defensive, though I knew it sounded weak even to my own ears.

Blake merely hummed, a noncommittal sound, his green eyes boring into mine. "Reasons born of fear, perhaps. Just like here. Fear, ambition, resentment drive most packs, no matter the name." He straightened, his gaze lingering on my neck.

His fingers, cool this time, brushed lightly over the sensitive area. "And this... thing," he said, his voice dropping slightly, a note of detached fascination in it. "Unusual. Powerful. Bet it causes a great deal of strain, doesn't it?"

A jolt of alarm went through me. He knew. He could feel it. The constant pain of my bond with Emerson's that he desperately wishes to break, while I am moving heaven and earth to keep it as mine.

"It's none of your concern," I snapped, pulling back instinctively.

Blake's expression remained unreadable. "Oh, it's very much my concern," he stated, his voice flat, professional. "You are the King's...property, for now. And his property must be in optimal condition, especially given the potential for...complications."

"Complications? With what, doctor?"

Blake stared for a while and then chose to dodge the subject. "You'll recover fully within a few days," he spoke, pulling out a small vial of clear liquid.

"This will dull the pain and speed up healing. Take a drop morning and night. Maria, ensure she rests." He handed the vial to Maria, who took it with a respectful nod.

Deliah, who had been silently butchering the deer on a nearby block, glanced up, her eyes meeting Blake's. A brief, wordless communication passed between them before Deliah grunted, "Good. More useful healed than whiny."

Blake then turned to leave, his presence fading as quietly as it had arrived. "I'll check on you again tomorrow," he said to me, his gaze lingering for a moment, an unsettling depth in his intelligent eyes.