Margery stepped away and faced Donal. He was a superb healer, she knew. Someone she admired for his work. A male who drew her as powerfully as his brother did.
That he disliked her so openly… It hurt. A lot.
But, over the past few days, she’d thought of how much she’d loved caring for Breanne’s injured wrist. How much she missed tending the ill and injured. Being a waitress wasn’t going to be enough for long.
It was time she told this…this badger-butt exactly that. She lifted her chin, stared him straight in the face, and ignored the quiver of anxiety in her gut. “Your clinic is your own, healer, and you choose who helps you.”
Donal gave her a very human look. Like, well, duh.
She flushed. Of course, it was his clinic; he sure didn’t need her permission to keep it the way he wanted.
When he started to turn away, she sharpened her voice. “However, elsewhere? I’ll tend wounded shifters and sick shifters if they need and want my help.”
Donal’s face darkened. “You aren’t—"
“I’m a banfasa, and it appears that you don’t like my profession much. I don’t care. In fact, you can take your opinion and shove it in a gnome-hole.”
The healer stiffened like she’d stomped on his tail. “You…” After a glare at Tynan, he turned and stalked out of the clinic.
Oh Goddess, what had she done? Clutching the counter edge, she kept her knees from buckling and dared to look up at Tynan. Did he hate her for angering his brother?
“He sure got his fur ruffled.” Tynan stared after his brother, then met her gaze, and his eyes softened. “Meggie, relax. You were right to set out your limits.”
“Maybe.” Her stomach jittered. It hurt to have the healer act like she was pond-scum. Because Tynan loved him. Because he was someone she would have loved to work with.
Setting limits was one thing. Her harsh words hadn’t made her feel good at all. “You’d better go help.”
He stroked her hair, the touch soothing. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.” She started to push his hand away and couldn’t help but kiss his palm and breathe in his scent before stepping away. “Go, Tynan. The injured shifter needs help, and they come first. Always.”
“Sounds familiar.” He touched her cheek tenderly, hesitated, then motioned toward the spinach and vegetables. “If you could start on the salad, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As he walked out, she narrowed her eyes. Sneaky mentor to assign her a task so she wouldn’t follow her inclination to slip out while he was gone.
Her unsettled feelings eased as she ripped spinach into small pieces and cut up carrots. Tynan hadn’t been upset by her behavior or Donal’s. No, he’d been as undisturbed as a mountain in a spring thunderstorm. Solid. Unmoving.
And simply wonderful.
Ten minutes later, still unsettled by what had happened in the kitchen, Donal finished with his patient and dismissed the young male. “Be more careful, aye?”
“Aye.” Pulling on his bloodstained shirt, Warren headed out of the clinic, calling back, “Thanks, healer.”
With Tynan standing near the door, Donal shook his head, washing his hands. “Who knew hardware stores could be so dangerous?”
A worrisome silence was his only response. Tynan wasn’t easy to rile up. Didn’t spit out his emotions like Donal did. But when he did get angry, the wolf could rip and tear with the best of them.
In fact, if Tynan had been a werecat, his claws would be embedded in Donal’s ass about now.
Donal sighed. “Since you’re not heading back to the female in the kitchen, I’m guessing you have something to say.”
“Aye. That I do.”
Donal turned. “Let’s hear it then.”
Rather than furious, his brother looked perturbed. “Even a wolverine guarding our den would have behaved better than you did. Why, Donal? Has she been rude to you in some way?”
Donal rubbed his jaw. He could hardly admit he’d never said more than a few words to her. “When I was apprenticing, the master and I had constant problems with a banfasa. I’ve had altercations with others since then.”
“But not with Margery.”
“No.” Donal shrugged. “It’s not as if she’s working as one. It’s that I’m not of a mind to encourage her.”
“Which is why you refused to let her help, even though she’d have been a better choice than me.”
“True. I simply have no interest in working with a banfasa, brawd.”
Tynan gave him an assessing gaze. “And no interest in being with any female outside of full moon Gatherings.”
Donal sighed. “That, too.” Although it wasn’t…exactly…the truth.