Poison From The Same Vine Novels & Stories

"Damon, wake up. Come on, brother, I need you conscious." Nothing. No response. His eyes didn't even flutter. "What's wrong with them?" Marcus appeared beside me, his face grim, his hand already on his weapon. "Sir, we need to move them. Get them somewhere defensible. The rogues are pushing through our lines." "They've been poisoned," I said, my mind racing through possibilities. "Something in the wine, has to be. Look at their symptoms—sudden collapse, unconsciousness, but vital signs are stable. This is wolfsbane. High concentration, designed to incapacitate but not kill immediately."

With that, Vicky and the others quickly surrounded Frank, relieved as they really thought that Stanley's machinations had really killed him! Frank shrugged with a confident smile. "I'm a miracle worker. What's easier than stopping mere poison?" "But that doesn't make sense! How was Stanley not aware? Why was he so sure that you were dead?!" While others would not know, Vicky was well aware that Stanley was not your average Joe and would not show himself unless he was definitely going to succeed. "That's why I know that Stanley wasn't lying. The poison he gave contained king mamba venom—it's a species that went extinct decades ago. If I hadn't even seen it, there was no way Stanley could have

scoffed Mist, with that, his blade flew past, and another was dead. “Master, what do we do?” Lewis asked, his body quaked. Mist was a Strength of level nine, it would not take much for him to kill Lewis. Worst still, he saw Zephyr drink from the wine! “Don’t worry, even if the wine was poisoned, it won’t get the better of me! Go and hide!” Zephyr replied calmly. Zephyr knew the wine was poisoned. He reckoned the wine was poisoned with knob root. Knob root had the special characteristic of paralysing those who ingested it, thus, it would render them incapacitated.

But here, in the dim, flickering light of the dying fire, he looked up at Ivy with eyes that were no longer just golden; they were shattered. The scratches on his arm, where Ivy’s nails had carved into his skin during the peak of their visceral union, were not glowing with magic—they were weeping a dark, sluggish fluid that seemed to drain the very iron from his resolve. The "poison" Ivy had mentioned wasn't a supernatural curse; it was a potent, concentrated sedative found in the hidden compartment of the 1890 box, a "last resort" the first Isabella had prepared for a Moretti who refused to be tamed.

Now he was not a mate alone, he was a king, the best king magical world ever got. The environment of the packhouse seemed tense. Abner and and my gamma, Ivan was helping those distressed pack member to feel relief. Pack doctors had been busy all the time. I noticed Ven clenched her jaw while her hand tangled into a tight fist. "Alpha, I think someone spread poisons in air. Maybe it was our rival pack." A pack doctor said, "We have detected some Oleander in the air though it was faint. If it was intense, the whole pack would have died till now."

She sobbed and pleaded, "I'm already poisoned! How can you do this to me? "We can't even win against them! If you want to die, go die on your own—why are you dragging me into this?" But her lies were instantly exposed by the enemy wolves standing across from them. "You're still carrying that witch in your mouth? Guess we really did catch the wrong mate of yours!" One of them sneered and added, "You got played, Louis. She tricked you into thinking she was poisoned. When we caught her, she sold out your Luna just to save her own life."

I gawk as one of the warriors hands Crimson a torch from his pack and a box of matches, only realizing when he spoke in his gruff voice, that that was the man who took me down. “What did you poison us with?” I finally ask, only thinking of and wanting to know now. “A thorn from the bush of Manchineel dipped in Nightshade.” He speaks. “And what did you give Tawny the night of the full moon?” Crimson growls out the question. This time Arik answers, “She was given Jimsonweed in her wine.” At least he looked guilty as he told us. “That and nightshade grow abundantly on our lands. Mix them together and you can take down anything and have them seeing shit for weeks.”

Every black vine that sprouted from the ground had been immediately cut by the frozen blades. Arth was about to take a step back, but then he never noticed the vine that pricked its thorn on his leg. He clenched his teeth, grunting out the pain of the poisonous thorn. His left leg burned with pain inside as if he had been stung by a snake or a bee. He immediately cut the vine to prevent it from sucking his blood out.

Doctor Abbott responded nonchalantly. Upon receiving the Pure Spirit Ganoderma, his eyes widened in anger. "To go as far as using the Turtle Dove Poison, it's a meticulously planned scheme with a malevolent intent." "Is it highly toxic?" Alexander inquired with curiosity. "Absolutely," Doctor Abbott confirmed, proceeding to explain the poison's potency and the intricate process of its refinement. "This poison acts swiftly, sealing the throat upon contact with blood. Ingestion by mistake can grant survival for only a few minutes," explained Doctor Abbott solemnly.