Redo The Healer Novels & Stories

Reid says from behind me, his head dipping into a bow as well. “Beta Reid,” he says, acknowledging my mate. “And you must be his mate, Taryn, the healer?” he adds, holding his hand out to me. I give him a weak smile as I shake his hand. “I’ve healed one person and eased the pain of another. I may have healing powers, but I wouldn’t qualify myself as a healer.” “My understanding based on conversations with the royal healer is it’s mostly instinctual, and there is very little training needed for a healer to perform their job, especially since it is passed down through genetics.”

It was tantamount to a great insult and disrespect. Healers were professions commonly held in the highest regard across the Violet Manor. Conjurers and cultivators could achieve accomplishments through sheer hard work and limited talent. But the same could not be said for healers, who required extraordinary potential lest they become only as useful as glass hammers. This made healers extremely valuable, more so than conjurers and cultivators that a mere Tier-Four healer could easily demand greater reverence than a cultivator of the Nascent Soul Realm.

I had to know two major things from her. With a finger to her cheek, her gaze pierced into my soul, "The bond will be restored once the destruction magic is eradicated. Spell leaves invisible residues. Healers are whitelighters that can remove the bad and reinstate the good. Therefore healers can repel dark energy. Look....."

“You really know nothing of the Night Shadows; one scratch, and you are as good as dead. The deeper your injuries, the faster you die. You don’t try to be a hero when you come across one, you do yourself a favour and run.” I stood there, speechless, thinking of what could had become of Trisha and I if the Shadows successfully caught up with us. I was deep in regrets of what could have been, till Elera snapped me out of it. “Healer.” She said, in a low tone. “What?” I asked. “You taking care of that werewolf victim is the work of a healer. Healers deal with most cases caused by the supernatural. You are a healer, and trust me, you’ll encounter more failure than success. You will watch many pe

I’d already sold pieces of my soul to keep Dad safe the least I could do was try to protect some of them. “I want to come with the warrior.” He studied me for a long moment. Then he laughed, “You want to come on the raid? After everything?” “ As a healer, not as… anything else, I’m the head doctor,” I said, lifting my chin. “If people get hurt , I'm the only one who knows how to put them back together fast enough so they can go back to the field. You want this done clean? You need me there.” He pauses and thinks long and hard like he is calculating if he really needs me.

He didn't care about the opinion of a loser. I took the chance to raise my hand. "But our sources told me that Mystic Tiger has no Healers. The only one is gone, isn't she?" "That's nonsense!" one of Joshua's sycophants retorted. "Our Healer, Irene Shaw, made this elixir! She's inside our base!" "Really? But I thought you stripped me of my Ability, gave it to her, and then stripped her of that Ability as well."

He didn’t think so. There was something else going on. He just couldn’t tell what. Either the moon goddess had some big plans for him and Dhara or she was merely getting a kick out of his pathetic circumstances. Pathetic because the one woman he and his wolf agreed upon—wanted nothing more than to just claim her—was neither their mate nor someone they could mark. Healers were never known to be mated to anyone. They lived a solitary life. They were powerful but they were alone. It was just hard to say if that was a curse or a blessing.

"Let's get to it. What are the terms of this... alliance?" The next hour was spent hammering out the details. Territory divisions, spoils of war, command structure—it was all tedious and predictable, the kind of conversation I had mastered long ago. I let Darius and Sylas argue over the finer points, playing mediator when necessary while weaving my own web of influence. "The human healer," Sylas said suddenly, breaking the flow of the conversation. His dark eyes locked onto mine, sharp and calculating. "I've heard whispers about her. They say she has unusual abilities."

“ she has come “ the Sharma stated. who has come? “ the one to finally grant the goddess her wish after thousands of years. the moon has chosen her to birth heirs for Lycan.“ Kaliel sighed and sheathed back his sword, at this point he was convinced that not only was the Sharma fake, he was also mad and might need to be cured. he watched the old Sharma dance about and chant some ancient tongues happily, conversing with beings only he was able to see. “ worry not Sharma, I'll see to it that you are cured“ he stated in pity for the old man, instead of appreciating him the Sharma used his walking stick to hit him. “ curse you boy ,for thinking that I'm mad. I am not mad , I have seen the wonderf

"Now stop this foolishness and accept that you belong here. This is your new family." I glare at him, shaking my head furiously. "Don't fight me, little girl," he warns. "The last thing we need is another problem." "Then leave me alone!" I yell. "I don't belong here! Leave me alone!" His eyes narrow menacingly before turning back to normal. "Never! I'll never give up on you," he whispers. "You're too valuable for me to let you go. Having a healer gives us an advantage over the other packs. We can heal our injuries faster than they can theirs."