Page 85 of Wanted By the Alien Warden

Istared, half confused and half in awe, at the confident, commanding male who’d taken over the scene just about as quickly as he’d come upon it. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have assumed he was a warden.

But I was pretty sure I’d just heard him refer to himself as Zohro. The last man from Tenn’s province I was meant to meet.

I was also pretty sure I’d heard him call himself a surgeon. Which seemed… Dubious. Unless he meant a veterinary surgeon to the animals on his farm.

But honestly? At this point?

I’d take whatever help that I could get. Even the delusional sort.

And seeing the way Zohro so easily took command of the chaos inside the saloon made me feel like maybe, just maybe, this might actually be OK.

“You,” Zohro said, pointing a knife directly at Rivven’s chest. “Get me a sewing kit.”

Rivven instantly turned and ran to the back of the saloon. He didn’t stop when he reached the bar. He simply leaped right over it.

“You,” Zohro said, this time using his dark pink tail to point at Dorn, since his knife was now busy slicing away Tenn’s shirt. “Get me clean towels and hot water.”

“What can I do?” Xennet asked.

“You…” Zohro squinted at him, then scowled. “You just stay out of the way. And you.”

I stiffened, realizing Zohro was addressing me.

“Tell me what happened.”

“We were outside,” I said, my voice cracking. “We took shelter from the storm inside an old shed. But the roof….”

“It fell?” Zohro finished impatiently when my words trailed off. I nodded mutely.

“You are uninjured?”

“Tenn, he… He pushed me out of the way.”

I wasn’t sure if Zohro caught that last bit. He was now muttering away to himself. “Dislocated shoulder. Broken collarbone.” But he didn’t seem to actually be paying much attention to those injuries right now. He’d dropped his knife, and both of his dark pink hands were now entirely devoted to holding my soaked shirt against Tenn’s torn neck. “Where the blazes is the sewing kit?”

“I’ve got it!” Rivven slid across the bar. His boots hit the floor hard when he landed. “I sterilized the needle.”

“Good,” Zohro said. “Get it threaded for me.”

I reached for the sewing kit, not wanting to waste any time in case Rivven couldn’t do it one-handed.

But he didn’t need any help. His tail proved nearly as dextrous as a second hand would be. He was able to hold the needle perfectly still between his right wrist and the tip of his tail, which meant his left hand was free to thread it.

By the time that was complete, Dorn was back with the water and towels.

“Mop up whatever blood you can,” Zohro instructed, “so I can see what the blazes I’m doing.”

Then, he pulled my shirt away.

I wanted to collapse when I saw how much blood came pouring out of Tenn. But Zohro had none of the same freezing fear that I did. Instantly, he was bent over Tenn’s neck, his arm moving in sharp, precise motions. Dorn and Rivven did as Zohro had commanded them, their towels soon soaked through with black.

So much black.

Please, please, please…

“Are you alright?”

I swallowed a yelp, then turned to find that Xennet was right beside me. He wasn’t as large as Dorn, but compared to a human, he absolutely towered. I tilted my face up to better meet his white gaze.

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