Dagger of the Blood Moon
“Consider it done. They won’t see it coming.”
As Dax leaves, the pack link chimes again. It is Miss Ophelia, her mental voice tight with worry. Alpha. Get to the infirmary. It's Mara.
I don't hesitate. I sprint down the halls, throwing the clinic doors open.
The smell of burnt flesh and sour pine hits me instantly. Mara is writhing on the cot, her face deathly pale, sweat soaking her hair. Torin is holding her down, tears tracking through his beard. The poultice isn't working; the silver poison is spreading, glowing with a faint, sickly violet light beneath her veins. Witch-taint.
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