ADREIN.
I stood frozen at the head of the cot, my broad palm pressed flat against Maria's smooth, ice-cold forehead.
The heavy scent of metallic blood and bitter herbs hung thick in the warm air of the infirmary, mixed with the quiet, rhythmic trickling of dark, poisoned blood draining through the copper tube into the basin below.
Physician Thorne adjusted the silver binding straps on her wrists, his fingers moving with practiced, frantic speed. "Keep your mind steady, Alpha Adrein," Thorne instructed, his voice low and tight. "Do not push your aura too hard. The wolfsbane has made her spirit fragile. If you force the bond thread, her body will fight it like an attack."
"I know what I'm doing," I muttered through gritted teeth, closing my eyes to shut out the sterile white walls and the glare of the lanterns.
