Zielle
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The next morning, the taming quarters smell faintly of iron and bitter herbs. The maids had tried to clean the place, but no amount of scrubbing could erase the scent of blood and wolfsbane that clings to the air.
It stings my throat.
I walk in quietly, holding a bowl of water, fresh cloth, and a vial of medicine.
The guards posted by the entrance bow when I pass, but they don't meet my eyes. After what happened last night, no one dares to.
When I enter, the alpha is lying where he always does, on the low cot in the corner of the cage. His body looks unnaturally still, his skin pale against the dull gray of the sheets. His shoulder is bound tightly in bandages, stained through with dark red.
The healer said the wolfsbane will stay in his system for another day. It'll burn, weaken him, strip his strength down to nothing until his body fights it off.
Even now, seeing him like this, something tightens in my chest.
