Aria had never cursed so much in her entire life—not even close. She glared furiously at the deranged healer, the only sign of his madness being the sick calmness on his face as he tinkered with something inside a small, gleaming vial.
He looked disturbingly normal, which only made it worse.
It had been a while since he started mixing the contents, and though Aria couldn't quite make out what was in the container, every instinct in her screamed that it wasn't meant for her benefit. Her eyes bore into him with all the hatred she could summon, watching from where she lay restrained on the bed.
Bovan, however, was the picture of indifference. He hummed lightly to himself, almost cheerfully, as he finished preparing the mixture and began to approach her.
"You're completely out of your—!" Aria began to snarl, only to be cut off as he moved too quickly, grabbing her by the neck with firm hands and tilting her head back.
