The watching elites have shrunk away from me and the other royals—even the demons who were fawning over Arga—as if they think they can be poisoned by proximity.
In contrast, Tyrus and his men have remained with me. “Go, Nova,” Tyrus says, glancing back at Arga.
Roman’s focus is also on Arga now, who is in turn watching me and Koda with an intensity that makes me shudder.
Roman leans in close and I sense the effort it’s taking for him to remain calm. “When you find a vial, drink it right away. Don’t hesitate. If Arga sees you with it, he will kill you for it.”
WhenI find a vial. His belief in me is all I need.
There are six rooms. One of them could hold all of the antidotes. Or none. In fact, the odds of choosing a room with no antidotes could be high.
On either side of the main room, the walls transition to transparent again. The room directly to my right is filled with flowers, all seeming to grow up from the floor. Some resemble tulips, others look like lilies, along with other bulbous blooms I don’t have names for. A vial of antidote could be hidden in any one of them.
The room next to it contains antique furniture—drawers, closets, trinket boxes, a horde of places to hide a vial.
The room next to that is like a seascape, the floor covered in undulating sand dunes, the wind whistling through the door and carrying the scent of the sea. A vial could be buried anywhere deep within the sand.
I’m aware of Koda running into the room that contains the sand dune and—briefly—I catch a flash of sapphire light around his shoulders and face that disappears so fast, I’m sure it was just his hair catching the brilliant lights around us.
Farther away from me, Esta is dashing into one of the rooms on my far left that I can’t see into from where I stand.
But Arga is watching me, his fists clenched, shoulders hunched, as if he’s getting ready to run after me the moment I make a choice.
I fight my rising panic, focusing back on the glass, inhaling its bitter grape scent. If Crone is smart, the antidote won’t have a scent that I can follow, but it’s my only shot.
I need my wolf.
I hit the rune on my left wrist. “Unclothe!” My evening gown peels back, and I drop into a crouch for the split second it takes me to shift into my wolf form.
The nearest elite demons scream and jump backward, but I ignore their reaction. I guess they’ve never seen a shifter in action.
My wolf’s senses drive my panic into submission. Her black-and-white vision clarifies the room for me, cutting through the countless perfumes and isolating a hint of something bitter wafting from my right. I follow the scent, leaping over the back of the couch as the elites scatter ahead of me.
I dive into the room with the flowers, tracking the scent through the stems.Bitter grape… bitter…
There.
A golden tulip shoots up from the floor ahead of me, surrounded by white lilies. I run toward it, my wolf’s paws light among the flowers, sensing the hardness of the floor beneath—possibly marble. I’m also aware of Arga running up behind me.
Rapidly shifting back into my human form and returning my clothing, I hit the rune again for my protective suit. As my evening gown transforms across my body, I reach for the flower, my fingertips brushing it.
I don’t have time to grab it before Arga reaches me. I duck to the side, but his fist catches the edge of my shoulder.
Thump!
Pain explodes across my back, and I crash into the floor, my palms hitting the marble just in time to stop me cracking my cheekbone against it.
I spin to defend myself as Arga’s large shadow looms over me. He’s partially crouched, his fist swinging toward my face again.
I throw myself to the side, my foot kicking through the movement and knocking him backward.
He stumbles, rights himself, and a grin grows on his face. “Even my own pain makes me stronger, Nova. You can hit me all you want, but I’ll only return the pain to you tenfold.”
“If you can catch me,” I say, leaping back to the flower, scooping it up.
A hard object rests inside it, and I rip apart the flower as I continue to run, circling wide of Arga.
I nearly stop dead in my tracks.
