Page 18 of Her Orc Healer

He never asked if I’d eaten. Never made a show of it. Just set the food down, gave me that steady look, and waited. And, despite myself, I ate.

The three of us would sit together—Maeve practically vibrating with excitement as she unwrapped the parcels, Kazrek eating with the same quiet patience he seemed to do everything with, and me… pretending I wasn’t starting to look forward to it.

And then, after the meal was done, he’d stay—as long as he didn’t have any patients to tend to.

Some days, he only lingered long enough to make sure I actually ate before heading off to his clinic. Other days, when things were quiet, he stayed longer—and found things to do. Things I’d meant to get to for months but never had the time, the money, or the extra set of hands for.

The stuck drawer behind the counter? Fixed. The upstairs window that let in a winter draft? Sealed before the next cold night. The crate of supplies too heavy for me to move? He stacked them in the storage room without a word.

It wasn’t a big deal, though. He was helpful, sure. Reliable. Knew his way around a hammer. Maeve adored him. But I didn’t ask him to come. I didn’t expect him to stay. It was just… convenient. That’s all.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

So when the door opened today, I didn’t even glance up from my work.

"What did you bring this time?"

Silence.

No deep chuckle. No soft thump of a parcel hitting the counter. No steady footsteps across the floor.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

I looked up.

It wasn't Kazrek.

Drev stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like she owned the place.

For a second, I just stared. It had been years since I’d seen her, but she hadn’t changed much—still tall and wiry, still dressed in dark, well-worn leathers that made her look more like a sellsword than anything else. A new scar split the skin just beneath her left eye, but the smirk curling her lips was the same.

And just like that, I was a girl again—standing behind Finn, watching as Drev spun another too-bold scheme, another reckless idea, another promise that ended in trouble.

The air in my shop felt tighter.

Drev’s smirk widened as she stepped inside, slow and unhurried, her fingers trailing along the doorframe. "Can’t believe you’re still here, little Ro."

My jaw tightened. "What do you want, Drev?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" she asked, feigning a pout as she wandered deeper into the shop. Her sharp gaze flicked over the shelves, the neat stacks of parchment, the rows of carefully labeled ink bottles.

I crossed my arms. "Funny. I don’t recall us being particularly close."

Drev let out a short, amused breath. "That’s fair."

"Are you in the market for some ink or parchment? If not, I’m afraid you’re wasting your time."

Drev chuckled, slow and knowing, like she was the only one in on a joke. "Oh, I don’t know. I think I might find something of value here after all."

Something in her tone made the hairs on my arms prickle.

I straightened. "Cut to the chase."

Her smirk sharpened. "Alright, then." She leaned against the counter, her fingers tapping idly against the wood. "I’m here to collect on a debt."

My stomach tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. "Then you’ve come to the wrong place."

"See, that’s where we disagree." Her voice lowered, turning almost lazy. "Because your sister owes me. And since she’s not here to pay up, it falls to you."

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