and girl with torso slashes, Margery smiled at them. “Hi there. Let’s get you fixed up, shall we?” As she pulled more gauze from the box, she stroked the quieter cub’s back in a comforting movement.
He stopped crying, big blue eyes full of tears.
Unbuttoning his ripped-up shirt, she smiled. “I have a job for you. Take a big breath and say fart really loud.”
As he giggled and yelled, “Fart,” she quickly pulled the fragments of his shirt from the wounds.
She stared at the torn flesh and long ugly gashes.
What kind of a werecat would hurt a cubling? With an effort, she pushed her anger aside.
“That was nice and loud. Good job.” She laid the gauze over the wounds and applied pressure.
Behind her, the girl started to scream.
A quick look showed the pup hysterically shoving away the hands of the young adult who pleaded, “Robena, please.”
Tiny Robena wasn’t hearing any of it.
“Hey there.” Margery put a reassuring hand on the dismayed adult’s shoulder. “I’m Margery. How about we trade places?”
“Nia.” Nia’s gaze swept over Margery’s calm patient, and she gave a shaky laugh. “Please, yes. I’ll take Kinnon.”
They switched, and Nia settled beside the sweet little boy who was asking if he should yell fart again.
Young males, old males—they were all alike.
Robena couldn’t be more than four, reminding Margery of when the captives were that age.
“Come here, sweetling.” Ignoring the ear-piercing screams, Margery gently drew the flailing little girl into her arms. So light, so young. Oh, childling.
First calm her, then deal with the blood.
“Shhh, I have you, lambkin. Shhh.” In her mind, she settled at her still mountain lake, breathing in cool, moist air, feeling the peace grow deep—deep enough to share with the tiny soul in her lap.
After a second of struggling, the cubling quieted and nestled closer. “Hurts,” she whispered, her cheek against Margery’s breasts.
“I know. I’m going to fix it.” Margery reached for more gauze, covered the ugly cuts on the girl’s belly, and pressed firmly enough to slow the bleeding.
Before she could do anything else, a big warm hand covered hers.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” At the sound of a male’s smooth, deep voice, Margery looked up into silver-blue eyes.
Black hair, lean face. The healer.
Donal gave her an unreadable look, before his gaze shifted to the pup in her arms. His smile lightened his eyes, and his voice changed to a smoky croon. “I’m going to fix you all up, Robena. As the scratches go away, it’ll feel all sparkly inside. Like stardust.”
Margery blinked. Really? That sounds so cool.
Robena pushed at Donal’s hands, starting to panic. “No, no, no, I don’t—”
“I like stardust,” Margery murmured. “Maybe Donal should do the other cub first, and I’ll go watch Kinnon getting stardust.” She rocked as if to move.
The girl latched onto Margery tighter than a baby possum. “No, me first. Stardust,” she demanded of the healer.
His lips twitched before he lifted the gauze to expose sluggishly bleeding cuts. “Ah, not very deep at all.” He pushed the edges of one laceration together, as if gluing them shut, but as he held the wound, his other hand traced over the pinched line—and the skin melded together. The wound closed.
Tears prickled the backs of Margery’s eyes at the wondrous sight. No hurting for days, no scars for this little one. Thanks to the Goddess—and the healer.
“It sparkses in me,” the girl whispered…although her grip on Margery didn’t relax.
The healer’s deep chuckle was like dark velvet. “Excellent. Let’s do another scratch.”
Slowly, he healed the long ugly gashes until nothing was left. “There we go.” After giving the cub a smile, he turned to the boy. “Kinnon, your turn.”
The boy cub scrambled away from Nia to dive at Margery. She barely had time to free an arm to grab him.
Now she had two cubs in her arms. Big blue eyes, freckles dotting flushed faces, red-brown hair. She was holding littermates.
At the silence in the room, she looked up.
All the adults in the room stared at her.
As her face heated, she murmured, “Cublings like me,” and turned her attention to the little boy. With some repositioning, both younglings were settled and comfortable on her lap.
Thumb in his mouth, Kinnon stared up at her, big eyes heartbreakingly worried. With his other hand, he took one of her fingers and rubbed it against his cheek.
The curvy blonde had a melodious laugh. “That’s what Minette does with my hair. I bet he’ll be a cat when he grows up.”
“Any comfort I can give is good.”