By the time they reached the furthest edges, Whelon could not believe his eyes. The buildings were not fit to be lived in. The people were thin and dirty. He consoled himself that it must be a prison of some kind, but… but then he saw the children.
His wings faltered, his progress slowed, and his beast and mind focused on something other than the loss of his mate. For the first time since he’d lost Sasha, something tore through the pain of watching her taken from him. He was enraged that anyone lived in such a manner, let alone children. As he and the rest of those accompanying him spiraled down onto a cul-de-sac, he took in his surroundings.
It was exactly as it appeared. Not a prison—these were not unwelcome refugees—this was a place of free people. He understood they did not choose to live in this way, they did so because they had no choice.
Wealth. Class systems. His mind worked properly once more, processing information from the Knowing. A terrible surge of rage at the rulers of the city overtook him because they knew of this place but did nothing because it was “too expensive.”
Whelon shook his head. There were always more riches. The only thing that mattered were people. They were finite. Priceless.
The four other warriors, including Radoo, soon grew nervous as the residents approached. Whelon’s dragon wanted to fly on, to fly forever if necessary, but his healer’s heart would not let him leave.
“Hello.” A little girl shyly waved. “You’re a pretty dark dragon. I’ve never seen one with such deep colors! Well,” she cocked her head, “I’ve never seen one before, really.”
Whelon’s heart broke. The child’s hair was twisted in dirty locks. She wore a filthy rag of a dress, had no shoes and was far, far too thin.
A crowd had gathered around them now and the other Preors’ wings fluttered, revealing their nervousness—probably because of the gathering growing in size and Whelon’s mental state. Whelon held up his hands, calming his friends as best as he could because he did not believe the humans were hostile.
The little girl took a step away and took the hand of an even smaller boy. He had dull, blank eyes and could hardly stand. Sores had broken out across his small lips and his skin was dry and flaked.
“This is my brother, Jenkins,” the girl introduced the small boy. “He’s sad.”
Whelon crouched down, spreading his wings slightly for balance as he took in the boy, and his heart twisted in his chest. The child was literally starving to death. A quick sniff of the air around the child and Whelon scented infection in him, bacteria burrowing into the soft tissues of the child. The young one should have been able to fight off the ordinary, everyday bacteria easily—if he had been properly fed.
We live in luxury in the tower! he thought in shock and distaste. Feather beds and satin pillows… We throw away food every day and they have nothing. Nothing!
The rage he experienced in that moment almost obliterated his good sense. He was too stretched emotionally to react well. Fighting his dragon’s desires and the Knowing sickness was taking the last of his strength. When he stood, he did not see a single hostile face, but he did see desperation, pleading and hope.
“Radoo,” he snapped. “Go to the nearest store and secure food. Lots of food. Bottles of drinks with electrolytes, juice, soda, vitamin water. Secure transport if you must, but bring it here as fast as you can.”
Radoo ran his hand through his maroon hair. “Ah, Whelon—”
“Do it!” he snapped, his status as healing master still overriding the male’s simple warrior status.
Radoo sighed, shrugged, and took to the air. The crowd of people murmured and looked around in shock. Whelon knew they hoped he had come to save them and he was going to try.
“You!” He pointed at one of the other Preor warriors and realized he did not recognize a single male. All the others he knew must be back on the ship, fulfilling duties left open by mated Preor. “What is your name? Rank?”
“I’m Amryn, Third Healing Warrior, Healing Master Whelon.” A young Preor with pale, milky wings and equally pale hair saluted, pressing his closed fist to his chest.
“Good. You will know what is needed. Go to Preor Tower. Get a carrier and load up with medical supplies. Tell Chashan he can resupply the clinic from the ship’s supply. I want everything brought back here to me.”
Amryn saluted once more and smiled, his face tightening as he glanced at the children. “I will return swiftly, Healing Master.” He took to the sky, not shifting until he had put greater distance between himself and the humans.
Whelon took a look around and spied a vacant lot that held a mostly crumbled house. It had two remaining rooms with a roof still on top, and he saw that it was fortified with extra beams. Other, newer parts of the building had fallen in, but this older section was still secure.
He raised his voice to be heard over the growing murmurs of the crowd. I want everyone to line up over here. I will see you one by one. Food and medicine is on the way.”
A few people cheered, but for the most part, the reaction he received was tears that touched him so deeply he almost cried as well.
“What would you have us do, Healing Master?” One of the other young Preor questioned him.
“Two of you, search the area for my mate.” Whelon was certain she wouldn’t be nearby, but it didn’t hurt to search. When he thought of her, his heart twisted and his dragon screamed, but Whelon pushed the feelings aside.
“You,” he pointed at the last remaining Preor. “Boil water. Find rags. Basic supplies.”
The Preor saluted and took off.
Whelon dragged his attention back to the crowd of people, the group growing by the second as more came out of their homes along the street. He knelt beside the little girl again, attempting to keep both his rage at their circumstances and the Knowing sickness at bay.
“Your brother is Jenkins,” he spoke softly and attempted not to stare at the boy’s sores. “What’s your name?”
“Katie.” She smiled at him and Whelon’s heart broke. How could she still smile when she was in such a poor state?
Whelon took her hand and stood, leading her toward the remains of the building. He would set up an emergency clinic and free dining room right there. His heart might yearn for his mate and his dragon might be full of fury… but his duty held sway over all else.
Whelon had the soul of a healer. He could not ignore suffering.
I will not waste time here, he swore to himself and his dragon, but I could never be so selfish as to put my own desires above those in desperate need!
Chapter Eleven
Sasha continued to suffer as the sun climbed higher in the sky and painted the room with a deep gold glow. Coated in sweat and her mouth dry, all of her muscles ached and the headache pounding in her temples blurred her vision.
She heard her mother moving about the room but didn’t bother to open her eyes. Her mother could give no help. Jenna had not even asked if Sasha was feeling better, or worse, or brought her water. The mercenaries Jenna hired were outside, and most seemed scared to come near her because she was “contaminated.”
Even if I were, she thought furiously, it’s not like you could catch it!
A wave of pain rolled through her, her stomach clenching into had knots, and she moaned and squeezed her eyes shut. She just wanted it all to be over.