Chapter Forty-Three Corrina
I wake slowly to pain and murmured voices. I blink my eyes, trying to orient myself. I remember fighting with someone and being afraid and… “Davix,” I gasp, and then Curran is leaned over me.
“Thank the stars. You’re awake,” Curran rumbles.
“Davix?” Flashes come back to me. Davix’s face twisted in despair and pain. And blood. So much blood. My blood. “Wasn’t him,” I croak, trying to reach for Curran.
“Take it easy, Corrina,” Curran says softly, capturing my grasping hand.
“The haleens are safe as far as I know, but they’re prohibited from entering the base until you can give us some answers.
I need to know what happened.” I nod and try to sit up.
I wince in pain as Curran presses my shoulders back to the bed.
“Not now, you idiot,” he says, and the endearment loosens something in my chest. “You were practically disemboweled two days ago. You’re going to eat and drink a little something, rest, and then in a few days you can give an official statement. ”
He glances around to make sure no one else is close.
“Did Davix hurt you?” he asks. I shake my head vehemently.
Curran nods. “Good. I don’t have to kill him.
Now, get some rest.” I want to protest, but even the act of trying to sit up exhausted me.
I lay back in the bed and let Curran feed me a protein slurry and then hold a straw for me to drink a nutritional supplement.
When I finish, I drift into a medicated slumber.
???
Wenschel is sitting beside the bed when I wake up. “Do you need anything?” she asks, leaning forward. I shake my head slowly. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I reply, hoarsely. Better is, of course, a relative term. I glance down at the bandages around my midsection.
“You were pretty badly wounded,” she says, her voice shaking uncharacteristically. “The tissue knitters have repaired the worst of the damage, but your body is still going to need time to recover.” I nod dejectedly.
“The haleens?” I ask. “Are they okay?
Wenschel looks uncomfortable for a moment. “I think so. Commander Curran is keeping them off base, but he says it’s for their safety.” She pauses. “I have a message from Krish, though. If you want to hear it.”
“Please,” I say earnestly.
“He said there would always be a place for you in their nest if you want it.” I swallow slowly and let out a ragged breath.
Over time, I’ve learned that being asked to share a nest is no small act in haleen culture.
It is a way of telling another that you trust them even when you are most vulnerable.
It is also something that Krish told me the day after Slade arrived, and that I was afraid to dwell on too deeply.
I blink my eyes against the tears that threaten to form.
“Should I not have told you?” Wenschel asks worriedly. “It seemed like a sweet thing to say, but I don’t honestly know.”
“No, I’m glad you told me,” I murmur, swallowing back the wave of emotion.
“Thank you.” I close my eyes and let the possibility and promise of Krish’s message wash over me.
I missed them all desperately in the days leading up to my attack.
The thought of never being able to tell them how I feel, regardless of how complicated it might make things, has been heavy on my mind.
I know Curran did the right thing by restricting their access to base given the circumstances, but it’s been so hard not to see them or talk to them.
???
“You’re what?” I ask irritably. Curran just crosses his arms and stares at me.
“I’m sending you to a safe house to continue your recovery.”
“This is ridiculous,” I snap. “I can recover just fine here.”
“I’m acting commander,” he retorts, “and it wasn’t a request. I’m sending you off base to a secure location for at least two weeks to continue your recovery.
” His expression softens somewhat. “Besides, it’s confusing to have you here and not in command,” he admits.
“Not to me, ‘cause I didn’t listen to you half the time anyway. But for the soldiers, it’s strange.
And I think it would be better for you to take some time and return with the same invincible reputation you’ve always had than let some of your admirers realize you’re only human. ”
“You’re shipping me off because you don’t want to deal with me,” I grumble.
“That, too. You’re a miserable fucking patient,” he adds. I start to laugh and then wince. “I’ve got a detail that will deliver you there before dinner.”
“Curran,” I say, and I hate the nervousness I hear creep into my own voice. “You’re sure I’ll be safe there?”
Curran stares at me for a moment. “I don’t think there’s anywhere you could be safer,” he says softly. Then he straightens. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks or whenever you’re up to being back on active duty.”