The Lost Guard’s Healer (Heart of the Oathlands Duet #2)

Prologue

Galene

T he sight of him is a wretched thing.

He is Oathlander all over. From the precise shade of his skin down to the dark shade of his eyes that I’ve seen on the rare occasions they’ve been open.

I wish my father wasn’t foolish enough to ask me to heal him. Even more, I wish he wasn’t cruel enough to make it my Task.

Meaning I have no other option. If I ever want to be valued in this community—if I ever want to be someone or something beyond a whispered name and a stain of shame to my family, I have no choice.

Like clockwork, I rouse the bulky Oathlander from sleep with slow, gentle touches. Anything else and I fear I’ll frighten him into a stupor of an attack. Not that I couldn’t take him—especially with the rotten shape he’s in—but I’d rather he not ruin all my hard work and force me to start over with him again. I’ve already spent far longer in the presence of an Oathlander than I ever intended to .

What would my mother think if she knew I was caring for one of them? What would she think if she knew my father had all but forced me to?

I toss the questions aside. The answers don’t matter. It wouldn’t change anything. I would still be here, mixing tonic into a bowl of soup to keep the Oathlander from starving, mixed with something that I give him to heal him—and to keep him asleep a little longer. I’m not quite ready to face him, as harmless as he may be in his current state.

Not quite ready to look a monster in the eyes.