The Healer's Hellion - Miranda Bridges Page 0,12

to the Yalat back on Earth, but I thought that it was triggered because I was in danger. However, it appears as if my anger activates it as well.

“How?” I hold out my hands, looking at them as if they are foreign. In a way, they are. But I know he’s right about me. I felt the power within me surge and gather before streaming from my fingers just now.

“You have the gift,” he says simply, as if that explains everything.

Which it doesn’t.

I open my mouth to ask what in the holy hell he’s talking about when he lifts a hand, effectively silencing me.

“You are obviously regaining your strength if you are able to access your gift,” he says. “Why don’t you refresh yourself before we have this in-depth conversation? There is a lot for you to know, and not all of it will be received well.”

“But—”

He gets to his feet and offers me a hand, once again keeping me from talking. “Come, Skylar.”

I place my fingers on his palm, lightly grazing the callouses he most likely developed from wielding his sword. He helps me to my feet and escorts me to a bathroom filled with a mosaic-like tile, etched with gold symbols. There’s a large bathtub that’s more like a small swimming pool, a shower, a sink, and a toilet. It seems as if this room is just as big as the bedroom. Basically it’s every woman’s dream.

“Do you want a bath or a shower?” he asks.

“I don’t know why, but I imagined something more high-tech for bathing.”

“There are some pleasures in life that should not be rushed.”

I clear my throat to ensure my voice doesn’t come out as a squeak. For some reason, I’m greatly affected by hearing the word pleasure come from his mouth. “I’d like a shower.”

He drops my hand and shows me how to work the dials, which are not simple knobs like on Earth, and then points out the towels. “I will be right outside if you require anything, and I will have your clothing laundered.”

I look down at my filthy workout clothes and inwardly cringe. I’m so disgusting right now. I was already sweating and gross when the Yalat attacked, and then Braxton carried me to his ship. After that, I lay in a hospital bed unconscious for goodness knows how long.

“Thanks,” I say.

Braxton nods and then exits, leaving me alone for what feels like the first time in a long while. I lock the door and strip from my clothing, eager to jump in the shower. The warm spray of water is divine against my skin, but instead of enjoying it, I find myself rushing to bathe.

And the reason is that the idea of being alone terrifies me right now.

I need a distraction to keep me from thinking about my parents’ death, what Camille is going through, and the fact that I’m a mutant with powers. It’s too much to handle and process right now. There’s also a part of me that recognizes this defense mechanism is a recipe for an explosion of emotion at some point in the future, but I refuse to acknowledge the fact.

So instead I focus on Braxton’s warning from earlier. He said that I wouldn’t be able to handle whatever information he needed to tell me. So it must be bad. Really bad.

After rinsing off as quickly as possible, I step from the shower and dry off. I wrap a towel around my torso and then peek out from the bathroom.

“What am I to wear while you wash these?” I ask Braxton, holding my soiled outfit.

He takes it from me and hands me a neatly folded pile. “This should suffice for now.”

“Thanks.”

I duck back into the bathroom and discard the towel from my body. Then I inspect the clothing he handed me and frown. It’s nothing more than a simple white nightgown, and I shouldn’t be upset, but the idea of running around in this without a bra or panties bothers me. How am I supposed to have an important conversation while practically naked?

I hold the material up to the light and breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s not transparent. With no other options, I slide it over my head, happy to find it stops at my knees and not any higher. After combing my fingers through my hair, I exit the room, ignoring Braxton’s gaze as I take my seat.

“Better?” he asks.

I inhale a fortifying breath and then look at him. “Yes, thank