Page 19 of Her Orc Healer

I kept my expression blank, but my eyes flicked toward the back room, listening. No small footsteps. No curious voice piping up with a question. Maeve was still napping.

Good.

If she wanted a fight, I’d give her one.

"Finn’s been gone a long time, Drev." My voice was flat, unimpressed. "You’ll have to find someone else to shake down."

She laughed softly, shaking her head like I’d said something funny.

"Whatever Finn did, it’s got nothing to do with me."

"That’s where you’re wrong," Drev said. "Because debts don’t just disappear, Ro. Someone has to pay."

Her eyes flicked, just for a second, toward the back room, and a cold weight settled in my chest.

Because I knew Drev.

Not just as the girl who had grown up two streets over, the one who used to race Finn through the market stalls, stealing apples when they thought no one was looking. Not just as the reckless teenager who dragged my sister into trouble, laughing as they tumbled through the door at odd hours, breathless and wild-eyed.

I knew what she had been after the war.

It was four years ago. The war had ended, but the city still felt cracked—wards broken, supplies low, people rebuilding with whatever they had left. And Finn… Finn couldn’t sit still. Pregnant and pacing, chasing scraps of the life she'd had before. Or maybe chasing something else entirely.

Drev was still in the picture then, always at the edge. Smirking. Sharp-eyed. Bringing strange coin and stranger stories.

That night, I’d woken to voices outside the shop. Low. Urgent. Something about the tone scraped against my bones.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Finn whispered. Her voice was frayed at the edges.

“And yet,” Drev said, too calmly, “here you are.”

“It’s different now. I can’t be—” a pause, tight with something like fear. “I can’t.”

“You already were,” Drev said flatly. “You think backing out now makes a difference? You think that thing isn’t already set?”

I moved to the window, slow and quiet, heart thudding. The moonlight caught on something in Drev’s hands—a vial, maybe, or a charm.

“You said it would be controlled,” Finn said, quieter now. Almost pleading. “You said it would make me stronger.”

“It was controlled,” Drev hissed. “Until you panicked and ran. You opened the circle and left the gate swinging behind you.”

I never asked what gate they’d meant or what had slipped through it. I never asked Finn why, when she came back inside, she wrapped her arms around her belly like something might be stolen from inside her.

And now Drev was back. Looking at the back room like she already knew what had followed Finn home.

“You’re wasting your time,” I said. “Whatever Finn owed you, it left with her. I don’t have anything for you.”

Drev tilted her head, mouth twitching. “You sure about that? Because word is she left something behind. Something real important.”

Maeve’s face flashed in my mind unbidden. I kept my voice steady. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

Drev’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling. Not obvious. Just enough. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Some things have a way of circling back, Ro. Unfinished business doesn’t stay buried forever.”

Something inside me went cold. “You touch her,” I said, voice flat and iron-hard, “and they’ll be cleaning you out of the floorboards.”

Drev chuckled low. “Easy. I’m not here to start trouble.” Then, after a pause—just quiet enough to sting: “I’m here to make sure your sister’s mess doesn’t get worse.”

My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it.