lip. She wanted the cure to her lycanthropy, and though that’s what I also
wanted, something about it still stung.
A muscle in my jaw tensed as Alia dumped the cup of Savannah’s urine
into the beaker. I leaned forward, anxious for the solution to turn red. But it
didn’t.
Alia gasped and took several steps back as the contents of the beaker
turned a blueish purple and began bubbling. “Oh, no!”
She dropped into a crouch as the beaker exploded, sending glass shards
across the room.
I was up in a flash, drawing Savannah’s body to my chest as the scalding
projectiles embedded into my back. Growling at the pain, I looked down at
Savannah, who was trembling.
“It didn’t turn red,” she whispered.
I said nothing because I’d seen it, too, and I had no fucking clue what that
meant. The wounds on my back began to heal, and the glass shards dropped
to ground as my body ejected them. Once I was certain Savannah was
unharmed, I turned to Alia, who was inspecting the mess on her table.
“Damn. That’s never happened before,” she muttered.
“Yes, but what does it mean?” Savannah crossed toward Alia, wringing
her hands in worry.
The potion maker inspected the base of the beaker with a frown. “Well, it
means that it’s not fucking lycanthropy, and now there’s pee everywhere.”
Savannah braced herself against the table. “So I can’t be cured?”
My stomach knotted. What the hell had they done to her?
Alia sighed, traces of remorse in her beautiful features. “I’m sorry. I don’t
know what this is, and the only cure I have is for lycanthropy. If you were to
take it, it would likely kill you. It’s too risky.”
Savannah strode to the window overlooking the balcony, hugging herself
tightly. Her deep melancholy tore at me, and my wolf surged in my chest. I
stepped close and gently touched my hand to her back, subtly pushing my