Frostfang
"I know, I know, just—DELTA!"
They came running.
Three of them. Faces pale. Exhausted. They'd been healing for over a day straight.
The lead Delta—dropped to her knees beside Maera, hands already glowing, and her face went white.
"Oh gods—"
"SAVE HER!" Silas screamed.
The Delta's hands moved over Maera's body, golden light pouring into the ruined flesh. The other two Deltas joined her, their hands glowing, working frantically.
"Massive trauma to the lumbar spine," one of them said, voice tight. "The cauda equina is—it's gone. Shredded."
"Bleeding out," another Delta said. "We need to stop the hemorrhaging first or she's dead in minutes."
"Do it!" Delta snapped.
Their hands pressed against Maera's lower body, light blazing brighter. The bleeding began to slow—vessels sealing, tissue knitting together.
But her legs—
Her legs lay at wrong angles, unmoving.
"Silas," The Delta said, not looking up. "You need to step back. Give us room."
"I'm not leaving—"
