Percy's POV
This harsh, clinical side of Henderson catches me completely off guard. I take a step backward and strip off my shorts before climbing onto the examination table.
"You failed to mention your encounter with Beta Deryl last night when you returned to the packhouse," I state, watching her examine the wound with focused intensity.
"Would that information have changed anything? You still would have refused my medical assistance. You made it abundantly clear that Usher possesses sufficient strength to handle your healing needs. The level of pride displayed by you and this entire pack is truly remarkable."
"My pride?" I question, suppressing a sharp intake of breath as she begins scraping at the wounded area. She examines the collected material, angling it toward the light before giving a satisfied nod and depositing the scrapings into a glass container. The equipment appears brand new. My brow furrows with confusion about how she anticipated needing these specific supplies.
