Alexis POV

The healer pressed the cloth harder than necessary as the sharp pain flared up.

I hissed before I could stop myself.

“Easy,” I muttered. “I’m injured, not dead.”

She didn’t look up.

She just dabbed again, her firm fingers moving over the gash on my shoulder like she was scrubbing a stain out of fabric instead of patching up a living person.

“You were the one who insisted you didn’t need a stretcher,” she said calmly. “Or didn't need to go to the ...