CHRONICLES OF THE FLAMEBORNE (THE WEREWOLF'S CURSE)
The magic was brutal, the poison in him relentless.
Lucian groaned softly.
Hope flared. I pushed harder, pouring everything into the words, my strength, my will, my breath. For a moment, it felt like my soul was tearing free. The world dimmed. I slumped forward onto the bed, clinging to consciousness.
When I came back to myself, I jerked upright. Lucian’s forehead was beaded with sweat. His eyes fluttered open, and his breathing deepened.
I quickly tucked the spell book deeper into my robe in one smooth motion, thankfully, it was small enough to escape notice.
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