Chapter 22 Healing Power

Chapter 22 Healing Power
Clara's POV

"Hold still or I can't stitch this properly."
My hands shake as I thread the needle through torn flesh. The warrior, his name is Greg, ironically, grits his teeth but doesn't make a sound. Around me, the medical bay is chaos. Five wounded wolves from tonight's raid, and I'm the only one treating them.
The pack healers refuse to work alongside me anymore.
"Done." I tie off the last stitch and reach for bandages. My vision blurs for a second, and I have to grip the table to stay upright.
"You okay, Doc?" Greg asks, concern replacing the pain in his eyes.
"Fine. Just tired." I wrap his wound quickly. "Change the dressing twice a day. If you see any red streaks or feel fever, come back immediately."
He nods and leaves, making room for the next patient. But there is no next patient, just Kael, standing in the doorway covered in blood and soot.
"Your turn," I say, gesturing to the examination table.
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding from at least three places. Sit down."
He reluctantly takes Greg's spot, and I start assessing his injuries. Claw marks across his ribs. A deep gash on his shoulder. Burns on his forearms from the fire.
"What happened out there?" I ask, cleaning the wounds.
"Marcus Bloodfang was waiting for us. The whole raid was a setup." His jaw tightens. "Someone told him we were coming."
The traitor again. Always the traitor.
I press gauze against his shoulder, and the bond flares automatically. Heat rushes from my core into him, and I watch the wound begin closing faster than it should.
But this time, the cost hits me immediately.
The room tilts. My legs buckle. I grab onto Kael to keep from falling, and suddenly I'm not standing anymore, I'm on the floor, staring up at fluorescent lights.
"Clara!" Kael's face appears above me. "Damon, get a healer!"
"No healers," I manage. "They won't come."
He lifts me onto the exam table, the same one he was just sitting on. The irony isn't lost on me.
"What happened?" he demands.
"I healed five wolves tonight before you. Then I started healing you." My voice sounds distant to my own ears. "It's too much. The bond can't keep up."
Damon appears with a glass of water, but my hands shake too badly to hold it. Kael has to help me drink, and I hate how weak I am.
"That's it," Kael says firmly. "No more healing anyone. You're done."
"People need help…"
"And you need to not die in my medical bay." His voice is sharp with fear. "Do you understand? You collapsed, Clara. Your lips are turning blue."
I touch my mouth and feel how cold my skin is. He's right. I pushed too hard.
"The bond is accelerating," Damon says quietly. "She's not just healing them, she's giving them pieces of her life force. At this rate..."
He doesn't finish, but he doesn't need to. We all know what happens at this rate.
Footsteps echo in the hallway, and Helena appears with Elder Thorne. Their faces are hard, judgmental.
"We heard you collapsed," Helena says, but there's no sympathy in her tone. "How many times must you prove you're a liability before you accept reality?"
"She was helping wounded warriors," Kael snaps.
"She was draining herself healing people who would have healed naturally anyway." Thorne crosses his arms. "Our kind don't need human doctors, Alpha. We certainly don't need ones who faint at the sight of blood."
"That's not what happened…"
"Isn't it?" Helena moves closer, and I see calculation in her eyes. "Five healthy warriors came to you tonight with minor injuries. All five walked out healed completely. And now you can barely stand. Tell me, Clara… was it worth it?"
I want to argue, but my body betrays me. Another wave of dizziness hits, and I have to close my eyes.
"Get out," Kael orders. "Both of you."
"The pack has a right to know what's happening," Thorne argues. "She's becoming weaker by the day, and you're becoming more distracted. Marcus knew exactly when and where we'd raid tonight. That's not coincidence, that's leadership failure."
"I said get out!"
The Alpha command in his voice makes them both flinch, but Helena doesn't back down completely.
"Two warriors died tonight because we didn't have enough support," she says coldly. "How many more will die while you're busy protecting your dying mate?"
The words hang in the air like poison. Kael looks ready to attack her, but Damon steps between them.
"Helena, Elder Thorne… leave now before this gets worse," Damon says evenly. "We'll discuss pack business tomorrow."
They leave, but their accusations echo in the empty medical bay.
"They're wrong," Kael says, but I hear the doubt in his voice.
"Are they?" I force myself to sit up despite the spinning room. "Two warriors died tonight. How many were at the raid?"
"Fifteen."
"And the Bloodfangs knew you were coming. Knew exactly where you'd be." I look at him. "That's not bad luck, Kael. That's systematic failure."
"Because of the traitor…"
"Because you're fighting a war on three fronts." My voice is stronger now, anger giving me energy I don't really have. "External enemies, internal betrayal, and a dying mate who keeps collapsing. They're right to question if I'm worth it."
"Don't say that."
"Why not? It's true." I slide off the table, testing my legs. They hold, barely. "Every day I stay here, I become more of a burden. I can't fight, can't heal without nearly dying, can't even walk through the mansion without guards following me everywhere."
"You're not a burden…"
"Then what am I?" The question comes out sharper than intended. "What exactly do I contribute here besides drama and division?"
He opens his mouth, closes it. Doesn't have an answer.
Because there isn't one.
"I think Helena might be right," I say quietly. "About me being more danger than help."
"Clara…"
"No, listen." I force myself to look at him. "I love you. I chose to stay, chose to fight. But what if my choice is killing people? What if staying here is selfish?"
"Leaving would kill you faster. The bond…"
"Is going to kill me anyway." The words feel like accepting defeat, but they're true. "At least if I left, you could focus on finding the traitor. On stopping Marcus. On keeping your pack safe."
"I can do all that with you here."
"Can you?" I gesture at the medical bay, at myself. "I collapsed healing minor wounds tonight. Next time it could happen in the middle of a battle, or during a council meeting, or when Marcus attacks. And when it does, you'll be distracted trying to save me instead of leading your people."
The truth of it settles between us. He knows I'm right. I can see it in his face.
"I won't send you away," he says finally. "But you're done healing anyone. If someone needs medical attention, they go to the pack healers."
"They won't accept treatment from me anyway."
"Then they heal naturally or not at all." His voice goes hard. "I'm not watching you kill yourself one wound at a time."
I nod, too tired to argue more. He helps me back to my room, and I notice how carefully he's moving, like I'm made of glass that might shatter.
Maybe I am.
In bed, staring at the ceiling, I think about Helena's accusation. Two warriors dead because Kael was distracted.
How many more will die before this ends?
How many deaths will be on my conscience before I accept that staying here is destroying everything Kael's built?
The bond pulses weakly in my chest… a constant reminder that I'm running out of time to figure out the answer.