THREE YEARS FOR NOTHING

The Healer 1

Dorian and Margot crawled across the marble floor of the Obsidian Lounge, the chains on their wrists clinking with every humiliating move. Cordelia’s security officers walked beside them, watching without emotion as the crowd stepped aside. People laughed, jeered, and whistled mockingly, shouting crude comments that would haunt them for years.

Dorian’s face burned with humiliation and rage. This disgrace, this public destruction of his dignity, was entirely Thaddeus Crane’s fault. The worthless ex-convict had somehow ruined everything. As the doors closed behind them and the night air hit his face, Dorian made himself a promise. He would make Thaddeus pay for this. No matter what it took.

Inside, Thaddeus lifted Elspeth carefully into his arms. She weighed almost nothing, her body fragile from years of neglect. His coat wrapped around her shoulders, but she was still shaking.

“Brother,” she whispered, her voice tight with fear. “Dorian’s family—the Blackwells, they’ll come after you. They won’t let this go.” Her fingers clutched at his shirt. “We got away today because Cordelia helped us, but they’re one of the four great families. They have power everywhere. We should run. We should disappear before—”

“Elspeth.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Listen to me. From now on, you will never have to fear anyone again. Do you understand? Never.”

She wanted to believe him. He could see it in the way her expression shifted, hope warring with years of learned helplessness. But she didn’t argue further, just pressed her face against his shoulder.

Thaddeus turned to Cordelia, who stood nearby with her phone already in hand. “Prepare a new residence for us.”

“Of course.” Cordelia’s fingers moved across the screen without hesitation. “I’ll arrange for you to move into Silvercrest Manor. It’s the most secure property in the city.”

Thaddeus nodded. “Take Elspeth there first. Make sure she has everything she needs—medical attention, clean clothes, food.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “And make sure she’s safe.”

“Where will you be?” Cordelia asked.

“I need to find some herbs. Rare ones.” He looked down at his sister, whose unseeing eyes remained fixed on nothing. “I’m going to cure her blindness.”

Elspeth’s breath caught. Her hands trembled. “Brother, you can’t, that’s impossible. I’ve been blind since birth. The doctors said—”

“The doctors were wrong.” His voice carried absolute certainty. “Augustine taught me more than just how to fight. He was a master physician. I can restore your sight, Elspeth. I promise you.”

She was crying now, though she tried to hide it. “I don’t need to see,” she whispered. “I don’t need anything except to stay with you. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.”

Thaddeus kissed the top of her head. “You’ll have both.”

He passed her carefully to one of Cordelia’s officers, a woman with kind eyes who took Elspeth with practiced gentleness. As they carried his sister toward the exit, Thaddeus called after them. “I’ll be there soon.”

Elspeth nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see the gesture. “Be careful.”

Then she was gone, and Thaddeus turned toward the city’s largest herbal medicine store.

The storefront of Ashford Remedies was chaos when Thaddeus arrived. A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, their voices rising in panicked concern. Some were crying. Others spoke frantically into their phones. Through the glass windows, he could see people clustered around someone on the floor.

Thaddeus pushed through the crowd and stepped inside.

The elderly man lay on his back near the counter, his face ashen and his breathing shallow. His expensive suit was rumpled, one hand clutching weakly at his chest. Around him, employees and customers hovered uselessly, too afraid to touch him but too concerned to leave.

And kneeling beside him was a woman.

She was stunning in a way that had nothing to do with makeup or carefully chosen clothing. Her features were elegant and sharp, her dark hair pulled back in a practical bun that had come partially loose. She wore a business suit that suggested authority, but her face was pale with fear and her eyes brimmed with tears she was fighting to contain.

Thaddeus assessed the situation in seconds. The old man’s lips had a faint blue tinge. His pulse would be erratic, weakening with every passing moment. Internal injury, old and aggravated. Without immediate intervention, he had maybe two minutes before his organs began shutting down.

“I can save him,” Thaddeus said, moving forward.

The woman’s head snapped up. Through her tears, her gray eyes fixed on him.

“Who are you?”

“Someone who knows what he’s doing.” Thaddeus was already kneeling, reaching for the old man’s wrist to check his pulse. “Move aside.”

She blocked him, her hand shooting out to push his arm away. “Don’t touch him.” Her voice was authoritative despite the tremor in it. She looked him up and down, taking in his worn clothing—the same outfit he’d left prison in that morning. “What are you, some street doctor? My grandfather needs real medical attention.”

“Your grandfather doesn’t have time for that,” Thaddeus said calmly. “The ambulance won’t arrive in time.”

“They’ll be here in three minutes. The city’s top physicians are on their way.”

“He doesn’t have three minutes.” Thaddeus met her gaze steadily. “Without immediate treatment, he’ll lose all vital signs within sixty seconds. If you want him to live, let me work.”

The woman—she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, paled further. Her hands shook. “You’re not even a certified doctor, are you?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not letting you touch him.”

“Vivienne.” The old man’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes fluttering. “Let him… try.”

“Grandfather, no—”