was one thing to hear this over the phone, another in person. She set her jaw.
“Nothing could be worse than this. I need to be myself again.”
My stomach twisted as my desire to protect her wrestled with deep
resentment. Her blatant disgust and horror at being a wolf was infuriating.
The sooner we got rid of her wolf problem, the sooner I’d be rid of the
bond.
Lies.
Alia nodded. “Okay, then. You have the wolfsbane?”
“Jaxson has it. I hope it’s enough,” Savannah said, taking in the huge
space Alia had decorated with plants and books and faerie lights.
I gave the vial of the cloudy mixture to Alia, my claws aching at the
thought of that poison. If Savannah knew how many people had been killed
by that stuff, she might think differently of the LaSalles she called family.
Or maybe she wouldn’t.
The apothecary shook the vial as she crossed to a table in the corner that
was covered in bottles and bundles of dried herbs. “This will be more than
enough. I just need one more ingredient—your blood.”
Savannah spun around, her eyes dropping to the small gold knife and dish
that Alia picked up from the table. She crossed her arms. “Absolutely not. If
there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s don’t give your blood to anyone.”
Alia shrugged. “Wise. I understand your mistrust. You don’t know me,
and blood is a very powerful magical component. Thankfully, we can make
do with other things.” She rummaged around on a shelf and held out a
disposable plastic cup. “Fill this up a little. In the bathroom.”
Savannah looked on for a second without comprehending, and then her
eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Your choice. We need to test how it reacts with an essence from your
body.”
Savannah turned red, and I could smell her embarrassment. I smiled and
took a seat on the sofa, amusement replacing my earlier sour mood.