Page 67 of In Her Own Rite

“What?”

“I heard you, in the kitchen with Kieran. You said you’d give me three weeks. I still have six days left.”

“Em.” He shakes his head, his eyes firm. “Six days is nothing. If it’s not getting better, why would you torture yourself? Look at how good you’re getting as a healer. Why not focus on that? You’ll overtake Saga soon enough.”

I shake my head. I can’t explain why, but that’s not enough for me.

“Six days,” I say.

He sighs, looking down at his healed hand.

“Fine,” he says finally. “Six days.”

25

KIERAN

When Seb and Em come home that night, I can tell something’s happened. Seb and Maren eat in their room, and Em immediately disappears to go shower upstairs, even though she already showered after their morning training session. When she comes down again, she goes directly to the formal living room, where we set up the bed for Gabe.

I walk in to find them sitting on the couch together. His shirt is off and her hand is over his chest, a few inches between them. I can see her head bowed, pooling her concentration. I watch as the scarring on his chest seems to move under her hand. It’s not healing, exactly, but it’s…reacting, somehow.

She lowers her hand and lets out a sharp exhale, as though she’d been holding her breath.

“Sorry. I used most of my healing energy on Seb today.”

“What? What happened?” I ask, and she looks over her shoulder to look at me.

“Oh. I shifted,” she says, and I feel surprise and—I can’t help it—pride overtake me.

“Hey, that’s awesome!” Gabe says.

“Yeah. But I couldn’t shift back, and I panicked. I scratched his hand by accident.”

I can scent the disappointment and frustration coming off her, and I walk into the room and sit on the couch across from them.

“Still, that’s amazing, Em,” I say. “You haven’t done that in years.”

“I guess.” She turns to Gabe. “I’m sorry I can’t help, though. I was hoping we’d get rid of some of this today.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Gabe says, sitting up straighter on the couch and grabbing his shirt. “I didn’t expect this to respond to any more healing magic, after what Mom and Helen already tried. The fact that you’ve healed so much of it is amazing. And it’ll help you in the ring.”

“Huh? How?” I ask.

He looks at me like I’m stupid. “When a healer goes into the ring, she can heal herself if she gets hurt. That’s what my mom did, way back. So if you bring enough energy, you can buy yourself more time. And it might make up for what you lack in other areas.”

“Like strength,” Em says quietly.

I look at her. It’s only been two weeks, but she’s already changing, her body more susceptible to muscle as a shifter. I can see the slight cuts in her arms, showing the first hints of triceps emerging. When I massaged her back yesterday, I could feel some of the new muscle definition coming in. It’s slight, but it’s there. My wolf respects it, mostly because it speaks to her inner strength—her commitment, her unwillingness to take no for an answer. I wonder if she gives herself that credit.

“We should eat,” I say, standing. “You need to get some of your energy back.”

“Where are the others?”

“Seb and Maren are upstairs,” Gabe says. “And Quinn’s at the gym, teaching an FMA class.”

“Wait, really?” Em’s eyes go wide.

“Yeah. The owner offered her a teaching trial, since he saw you guys together,” Gabe says. “She was telling me earlier. She’s psyched.”

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