The vial sat upon the pedestal like a sun trapped in glass.
Every second its golden glow pulsed, the weaker Arina looked.
Her knees trembled beneath her. Her aura flickered, sputtered, barely more than a dying ember. Sweat slicked her skin. Each breath rasped louder than the last.
She reached for it.
Aiden caught her wrist.
Her eyes snapped to him, sharp even in her weakness. "Let go."
"Wait." His voice was steady, but his grip trembled. "You heard what she said. This isn't just a cure. It's a chain. Once you drink, you're… tied. With this tree, and me.."
Arina bared her teeth, half a snarl, half a plea. "I'm already chained, Aiden. To this sickness. To death. Don't you get it?" Her voice cracked. "If I don't drink, I'm gone. That's the only chain that matters."
Aiden's throat closed. He wanted to argue, to stall, to say to her, if she just let him fuck her, she will be cured. But her words carved the air raw.
