Page 108 of Silver Elite

“Hello, Wren,” he says, approaching the bed. His presence exudes an aura of calm assurance, but his piercing eyes seem to see right through me. “I’m Ellis. Heard you broke your wrist.”

“Who are you?”

“I just told you.” He chuckles.

“You know what I mean.”

He notes my gaze on his wrist and smiles. Instead of answering my question, he says, “You must be very important.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because they dispatched a speed craft all the way to Red Post to collect me. Flew me back here without even letting me gather my gear.”

I know from the study sessions Lyddie’s been cramming down my throat that Red Post is the Command outpost that’s farthest north. At the very tip of Ward A.

“Who are you?” I repeat.

He ambles toward the wall that contains the X-ray screen. He flicks on the light and studies my scan while I continue to studyhim.He’s wearing khaki trousers and a white collared shirt. He’s not a soldier. A doctor, maybe.

“Are you the surgeon?”

His lips curve. “Something like that.” He’s eyeing my injured wrist as he walks back to the bed.

The closer he gets, the higher my guard rises. Everything about this man unnerves me.

Ellis rubs his hands together. “They don’t usually request my services for recruits,” he admits.

His services?

My gaze sharply returns to his hand, but the black band is no longer the mark that matters. Another one has caught my attention: the bloodmark on the center of his palm, a perfect circle about an inch wide.

He offers a shrug. “Like I said, you must be important enough to merit healing.”

I recoil at that, my heart pounding in my chest. “I don’t need healing. I need surgery.”

“Surgery to fix your wrist.”

“Yes.”

“The wrist I can fix right now in less than five minutes and with zero recovery time.”

My mind reels from the implications of his words. I brokebonesand instead of permitting me to undergo surgery for it, they flew in a healer to fix me.

Defeat crashes over me as I realize I’m out of options. I tried to chew my way out of the trap, and I failed.

I’m never leaving this base.

Cross isn’t going to let me.

“May I?” Ellis nods at my arm.

Bitterness churns in my stomach. With it comes a sense of resignation and the urge to burst into tears.

I nod back.

Ellis places both hands on my forearm and gently pulls it straight. His movements are firm and measured, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through me.

“It’ll stop hurting soon,” he promises, then wraps his fingers around my wrist and forearm.

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