Chương 92: 092

He stared at me. Unblinking and unmoving, for so long I almost wondered if he'd drifted off mid-thought. Then, finally:"You… want to heal me?" Behind me, fabric shifted softly. Dura, no doubt, bracing, ready to step in if this went sideways. I waved her off without looking, my attention locked on Dominicus.

"Yes." I kept my tone even.

"Why is that surprising? I'm a healer. Despite my issues… that's still the truth." His brow furrowed, gaze flicking past my shoulder before settling back on me.

"I'm not complaining, but you seemed… livid, to put it bluntly. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well, it isn't one." I shrugged.

"I didn't want you hurt like this. The antenna was for insulting Karma, that was enough for me." I let the words hang, then tilted my head.

"So. Do you want healing or not?" He hesitated, just a beat, then nodded, slow and cautious, like he was still searching for a trap.

"I would appreciate it." Ignoring the scrutiny, I stepped closer and pressed my hand lightly against the worst of his wounds. Mana stirred at my palm, rising in a familiar hum as I shaped the spell, picturing moss spreading and flesh knitting.

"Verdant Renewal." Green bloomed outward, swallowing his face in a living mask. When it faded, I pulled back, watching as he stripped the moss away, revealing smooth skin. No bruises. No cuts. No lingering damage. His fingers brushed over it, slow and absent, like he wasn't entirely convinced it was real. After a moment, he exhaled.

"…Thank you." A pause, then he flicked a glance over me.

"Are you not angry anymore?" I snorted.

"Oh, I'm still furious. Don't get that twisted. Did you even stop to think about how badly that stunt could've gone?" A grimace flickered across his face.

"I was there to stop things from going too far."

"That wolf was inches from Thomas's throat," I snapped.

"If I hadn't stepped in, he could've died." He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

"At the time, I assumed you'd heal any injuries inflicted." I raised a brow.

"And now?" His gaze slid away, something quieter settling in.

"Now… I'm seeing I may have been hasty. My method would have worked, but…" His jaw tightened.

"It was too similar to how she would handle it." Stolen novel; please report. Fate. He shook his head, eyes hard and distant.

"I don't like that I acted like her." Progress. Small, but I'd take it.

"Then learn from it." My voice softened, but only slightly.

"Think about what your actions cost people before you act. If the end goal matters more than the people caught in it…" I met his eyes.

"You're no better than her." A dry, humorless huff left him.

"I used to believe that." I leaned in slightly.

"Then why'd you stop?" Something dark crept into his expression, slow and suffocating.

"Because she doesn't care. Not about the people her orders hurt. When I hesitated, when I tried to find better ways…" His jaw clenched.

"Punishment always followed." He looked away.

"I had two choices. Keep fighting to spare strangers and pay for it with my own body…" His fingers curled faintly at his sides.

"Or obey, and survive. I chose the latter." There it was, buried under layers of detachment. Guilt.

"Saving people wasn't worth the pain it brought." I didn't let that sit.

"The people you saved wouldn't agree." He flinched, subtle, but there. Then his gaze snapped back to mine, something sharp igniting behind it.

"And what do you know of that?" he hissed.

"You, with your kind patron. You, who were handed your title without half the fight I endured?" Behind him, Time shifted faintly, just enough to make both of us freeze. We waited, but he settled again. The tension eased, just barely. I turned back to Dominicus, voice steady.

"You'd be surprised what I understand." He rolled his eyes.

"Sure I would." Something in me snapped.

"Roll your eyes at me again," I said, voice low and sharp, "and I'll hit you hard enough they roll out." I took a step forward, meeting him head-on.

"You don't know a damn thing about what I've survived. So maybe keep your judgments to yourself." He didn't back down.

"Then explain it," he challenged.

"Tell me what 'horrors' you lived." The idea alone made my skin crawl, being vulnerable with him of all people? Everything in me wanted to shut down. To walk away. To bury it like I always had. But something else pushed forward, something jagged, stubborn, and unrelenting. He thought he owned suffering, had the market cornered on the 'woe is me, my life sucks'? Well, he was in for a rude awakening.

"Doing the right thing has always cost me." The words came fast and harsh, like if I didn't say them quickly, I'd choke on them.

"It always has. It probably always will." Memories surged, ugly, festering things clawing their way up. I didn't stop, even as the taste of bile hit and the stagnant air of the basement pressed into my lungs.

"When I was a kid my aman was kidnapping children. Using me as bait to lure them in. I turned her in. For them." My jaw clenched.

"She tried to kill me for it." A breath that might've been a laugh passed through me.

"She would've succeeded too… if someone hadn't stepped in." Something flickered across his face, regret maybe, but it vanished just as quickly. I pressed on anyway. Because he needed to hear this. Because pain didn't excuse becoming the thing that caused it in others. I'd grind that into his head, and if this was what it took to make sure it stuck? So be it.