I swallowed hard, my mind sprinting through every so-called "stamina" food I'd ever heard of. Eel, black goat, medicinal roots that looked like shriveled fingers, things I couldn't even pronounce.
Please don't let it be some kind of concentrated animal extract.
If it was, I was going to throw up the expensive porridge she'd fed me for breakfast. I liked medicinal chicken soup as much as the next person, but I had limits.
"What if this ruins my liver?" I muttered. "I heard you have to be careful with concentrated herbal tonics."
"That won't happen," she replied.
She sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped one long arm around my shoulders, drawing me into her side. Her temple rested against mine, her black hair spilling over us both like a curtain.
"It's certified. It's for your recovery."
"Still..."
"Lyra," she murmured, dropping the formal distance she usually kept. "After you drink this, you won't collapse during your next rut."
