Page 71 of The Wolf King

He nods at the wound. “Go on.”

I grab the needle and thread. Hand shaking slightly, I hover above the wound. I am by no means queasy when it comes to blood and wounds, but this is something I haven’t done before.

Blake leans over me, and I catch the scent of dark forests as he pinches the flesh on both sides of the wound together. He takes the needle from me.

“Like this.” He punctures the skin with the needle, and Ryan shrieks again as he pulls the thread through. “Then, create a knot. Like this.”

He hands the needle back to me.

I mimic Blake’s movements as I pull the needle through his flesh.

“Wolfsbane is an intriguing poison,” says Blake. “It attacks the wolf inside us. Stops us from healing, lowers our temperature, drains our strength.”

With each pull of the needle, the wound gets smaller, and I feel more satisfied. My hand is no longer shaking by the time that I’m done.

“How does the antidote work?”

“It forces the wolf to fight back.” He points at the thread. “Now pull here, tighten it... There. Good. Now, cut the thread.”

He passes me some scissors, and I do so.

“How did you discover the antidote?” I ask.

He walks over to his workstation, and wipes his hand on a rag. “You don’t want to know.”

I focus on Ryan. He’s already less pale, and his breathing is steadier. “Will he be okay?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“The strength of the wolf.”

When Ryan faced Callum in the fighting ring, he was courageous. He faced his fate with strength and dignity. “He’s strong.”

“Not particularly.” Blake drops the now bloody rag, and smirks when I glare at him. “It was a weak strain of wolfsbane. He’ll recover.”

I breathe out slowly. It’s like a weight is lifted from my chest.

I don’t fight the smile that spreads across my face.

Blake looks at me curiously. Then his gaze flits lazily to the door.

“You seem to be in some pain yourself, little rabbit,” he says. “Muscular pain, from your journey here, I presume. If you come to my chambers tonight, I have just the thing to help.”

Callum strides back into the room.

“He’s in recovery,” says Blake, before Callum can speak. “You can take him to his chambers, if you—”

Blake’s gaze narrows on Ryan, and he snatches something from the boy’s pocket.

“What’s that?” Callum holds out his hand.

Blake turns over a bloody envelope. Instead of giving it to Callum, he passes it to me.

I frown.

Aurorais written in elegant calligraphy across the front.

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