Alien Healer’s Mate (Latharian Mate Program #7)

Chapter 1

Kellat had lost count of how many hours he’d been staring at the same bank of readouts, and they stubbornly refused to change.

The medical bay on Devan Station ran quiet this late in the station’s night-cycle.

The lighting was dim, the soft hum of the atmospheric recyclers in tune with the rhythmic beep of each bay’s monitors.

It was peaceful. Calm and serene… unlike in the day when the place was little more than organized chaos.

Folding his arms, he stood at the foot of the bed in the first high-dependency bay and watched the slow rise and fall of the chest of the female who lay there. Delilah. He’d said it so many times to himself over the last few days that it had stopped sounding foreign and just sounded like his.

His gaze roamed over her. She was tiny and beautiful, with a small, heart-shaped face, a button of a nose, and full, pink lips.

Her pale hair fanned out on the pillow around her.

He curled his hand into a fist, fingers itching to reach out and run the silken strands through them.

He’d kept it combed and nice, but dark roots showed through the blonde.

A small smile curved his lips… if she cared enough to change her hair color, she’d probably be pissed about that when she woke up.

His smile faltered. If she woke up.

His jaw tightened, and he forced the thought aside. She was stable. Her vitals were good. The brain activity the monitors picked up was… unexpected, but not dangerous. She’d wake.

“You’re staring again.”

Kellat didn’t turn. The voice came from his left, where Miisan had projected herself into the physical plane.

The AI’s holographic form was precise down to the last detail.

A Latharian female in neat healer’s robes, dark hair pinned back, hands clasped in front of her.

She could have passed for one of his junior healers if not for the faint shimmer at her edges and the way the light didn’t quite land right on her skin.

And the fact that the lathar had precisely one full-blooded female left.

“I’m monitoring,” he said.

“You’re brooding.” Miisan’s lips curved upward slightly. “My sensors indicate a thirty-seven percent increase in brood-intensity over the last hour.”

“Your sensors need recalibrating.”

“My sensors are operating at optimal efficiency.” She moved to stand beside him. “You should eat something. Or sleep. Preferably both.”

He grunted but didn’t move.

Miisan tilted her head, studying the readouts. “Her neural patterns continue to shift. The remapping is progressing faster than your initial projections.”

“I noticed.”

“It’s remarkable. I’ve run the comparison you requested against the Latharian genome database.

” She produced a dataflex from thin air, the holographic object solid enough to cast a faint shadow.

“The divergence between baseline human genetics and the sequence markers in this female’s DNA is extreme. Nearly incompatible.”

Kellat slid her a sideways glance. “We knew that. Humans and Lathar share an ancestor species. The genetic drift is significant, but the base code is the same.”

“Significant is an understatement.” Miisan held the flex out so he could see. “I’m flagging four hundred and seventeen points of major divergence. And yet the healing response I’m observing…”

“Run the analysis again,” he said. “Full genomic mapping. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with before she wakes.”

“Before you tell her,” Miisan corrected.

He shot her a look, but the AI didn’t flinch.

“Your match data is flagged in the system,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“You’ve been standing there for three hours.”

Kellat turned back to the bed. Delilah’s fingers twitched.

A dream, maybe. The neural scans said she wasn’t conscious, but her brain was active in a way he hadn’t seen before…

rewriting pathways the crash should have destroyed, which shouldn’t have been possible, not in a human.

Some of the older clans with regen capability, maybe, but not in a human…

“Kirr M’Aab commed you,” Miisan added. “He’s requesting a status update on Delilah.”

“He can wait.”

“He’s been waiting for two hours.”

Kellat scrubbed a hand over his face. His braids had come loose on one side. He’d deal with them later. Or not. It wasn’t like Delilah was going to care what his hair looked like. She wasn’t going to care about anything until she opened her eyes.

If she opened her eyes.

Draanth.

Shoving the thought away, he turned back to the readouts. She was going to wake up. She had to. She was his match…

“I’ll take the call in my office,” he said, pushing away from the bed. “Keep monitoring her. If anything changes, even a blip…”

“I will alert you immediately.” Miisan’s form flickered as she shifted her attention to the readouts. “Go. Eat something. I have the patient.”

He nodded and headed for his office, just over the corridor. It was a compact space crammed with data consoles and a desk that hadn’t been clear of work since he arrived. Kellat dropped into his chair, and no sooner had his ass hit the leather than the comm system chimed.

He sighed, looked like he wasn’t getting anything to eat, not yet anyway, and hit the answer sigil on his console.

Kirr M’Aab materialized in front of him, the war-commander’s broad shoulders and dark braids rendered in crisp blue-white light. He looked tired, but a grin, not a scowl, crossed his face.

“Healer,” Kirr said. “Tell me you’ve got good news.”

“Define good.”

“Harper’s been asking about her cousin every hour since we left the station. I’m running out of ways to tell her to be patient without her threatening to steal a shuttle and fly back herself.”

Kellat’s lips quirked. Harper. Delilah’s cousin. He’d only met her a few times, in the chaos after the crash, but he remembered a small human female with a spine made of steel and a mouth that never ran out of words.

“She’d have to get through station security first,” he said.

Kirr snorted. “And? You think they’d stop her?”

Kellat shook his head. “Your mate is… determined.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it. The last time I told her to rest, she threw a dataflex at my head.” Kirr’s expression shifted, the tension around his eyes easing. “She worries. Delilah’s the only family she has left.”

“They were raised together. Yeah, I read the files.”

“Then you know Harper’s not going to relax until she hears Delilah’s voice.” Kirr paused. “I’m taking her somewhere quiet for a few days. Somewhere without comms, and a dozen warriors hovering around every corner. She needs the break. After everything…”

Kellat nodded. A newly bonded pair needed time alone to solidify the bond and let the mating marks settle. Time for the couple to get to know each other and settle into their new life together. But he knew that Harper wouldn’t go anywhere if she thought her cousin was still in danger.

“She’s stable,” Kellat said. “Vitals are strong. The brain activity is… promising.”

“Promising how?”

“She’s healing, and faster than I expected. The brain trauma was extensive, but her neural pathways are remapping themselves. I’ve never seen anything like it in a human before.”

Kirr’s holographic eyebrow rose. “That’s good, then.”

“It’s fascinating.” The word came out before Kellat could stop it, and he caught the slight narrowing of Kirr’s eyes. “Medically speaking. She’s going to be fine, Kirr. I give you my word as a healer.”

“When will she wake up?”

The question Kellat had been asking himself for days. He looked at the secondary monitor on his desk, the one showing Delilah’s vitals in real time. They were steady.

“Not for another few days,” he said. “The healing process needs more time. She won’t wake before then. I’ve got her under constant monitoring.”

“So we can stay away three or four days…”

Nodding, Kellat leaned back in his chair. “Yes. Let the bond settle. By the time you get back, Delilah will be awake, and Harper can talk to her herself.”

Kirr was quiet for a moment. “You’re sure?”

Kellat arched an eyebrow. “I’m the lead healer on this station. I don’t make guesses about my patients.”

“Fine.” The big war commander’s shoulders dropped a fraction. “I’ll tell Harper. She’s not going to like it, but she’ll listen if I tell her you gave your word.”

“She can be as angry at me as she wants when she gets back. Better me than you.”

The ghost of a grin crossed Kirr’s face. “You haven’t seen her angry. I’ll comm when we’re back in range. Keep me updated if anything changes.”

“Of course.”

The call cut out, and Kellat sat in the silence of his office, staring at the space where Kirr’s image had been.

Then a female scream ripped through the air like a blade through flesh.

He was out of his chair before his brain caught up. His shoulder slammed into the doorframe on the way out, but he didn’t register the impact. That scream was coming from Delilah’s bay.

He ran.

Oh shit. They were going to hit the wall.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t steer, couldn’t do anything except watch the concrete barrier fill the viewscreen of the flyer.

The scream from the rental’s safety alarm ripped through the air.

Or maybe it was Harper… or her. She didn’t know.

The wheel was torn from under her hands, and the world spun sickeningly.

Then there was nothing but the wall, rushing up to meet them.

Oh god, she was going to die; she was going to kill them both…

The scream tore from Delilah’s throat as she scrambled backward to get away from the wall.

Her hands shoved against whatever was under her as she dragged air into her lungs in a raw, heaving gasp.

Then her back hit something solid, and she pressed herself against it.

Her heart hammered, and her chest heaved as she looked around herself, blinking.