I try once more to summon my magic, to direct it toward my heart to slow the poison’s spread, but it evaporates like smoke. Whatever this toxin is, it’s deliberately blocking my connection to my power.
Time becomes meaningless as I drift in and out of consciousness. The room grows colder, or perhaps it’s just the poison’s effect on my body. When I hear the door open again, I can barely turn my head.
Daciana rushes to the bedside, her face tight with fear. “You’re worse,” she accuses, setting a small pouch on the table.
I try to respond, but my mouth refuses to form words. My vision darkens at the edges, narrowing to a tunnel with her face at the center.
Working quickly, she empties the pouch, revealing three bundles of herbs. Her hands move efficiently as she grinds themtogether in a small mortar, adding drops of water until they form a thick, dark green paste.
“Open your mouth,” she commands, scooping some of the paste onto a spoon.
I try, but I can’t move. My body no longer responds to my commands, the poison having spread too far, too fast.
Daciana’s expression turns from fear to determination. Without hesitation, she puts a spoonful of the paste in her own mouth. Then she leans down, pressing her lips against mine, using her tongue to push the bitter mixture into my mouth.
The taste is vile—earthy and sharp and metallic all at once—but I manage to swallow. She repeats the process three more times, each time lingering a moment longer than necessary.
By the fourth spoonful, warmth begins to spread from my center outward. Not the comforting warmth of health returning, but the burning heat of magic awakening. The herbs aren’t an antidote; they’re a catalyst, designed to break through whatever is blocking my natural abilities.
My magic surges violently, burning away the poison’s hold. I gasp, my back arching off the bed as power courses through my veins.
Daciana jumps back, her eyes wide with alarm. “Kieran? What’s happening?”
I can’t answer, lost in the battle raging inside me. My wolf claws to the surface, desperate to help fight the attacker in our bloodstream. For a moment, I fear I might lose control and shift right here in Daciana’s bed.
But gradually, the burning subsides, replaced by the familiar, cool rush of my magic flowing freely again. I exhale slowly, feeling my heart resume its normal rhythm.
“Better,” I manage to say, my voice still rough but stronger now. “It’s working.”
Relief floods her face, quickly replaced by annoyance as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “You could have warned me how disgusting that paste would taste.”
A laugh escapes me, though it turns into a cough. “My apologies, little wolf. Next time I’m poisoned, I’ll consider your delicate palate.”
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the small smile tugging at her lips. “Next time, try not to get poisoned at all.” Her expression grows serious again. “Who would want to kill you?”
“The arrow wasn’t meant for me,” I remind her, pushing myself up to a sitting position with only minimal dizziness this time. “It was aimed at you. Both arrows were.”
Her brow furrows. “But why? I’m just a soldier.”
“You’re the Queen’s personal guard and close friend,” I point out. “There are those who would want you dead. You have enemies.”
She crosses her arms, a defensive gesture. “So do you, apparently. That second arrow changed course. It was meant for you.”
I consider this. She’s right—the trajectory did shift. “Perhaps they didn’t care which of us they hit. Or perhaps…” I trail off, a suspicion forming in my mind.
“Perhaps what?”
I shake my head. “Nothing concrete yet.” I reach for her hand, surprising us both with the gesture. “Thank you for helping me.”
Her fingers tense in mine, but she doesn’t pull away. “I would have done the same for anyone.”
“No,” I say softly, holding her gaze. “You wouldn’t have.”
A flush creeps up her neck, and she withdraws her hand abruptly. “You should rest. The poison may be neutralized, but you still have an arrow wound.”
I lean back against the pillows, suddenly aware of how intimate this situation is, with me in her bed and her having just pressed her lips to mine, even if it was only to administer medicine.
“I’ll leave as soon as I can,” I promise.
