The Awakening
The hinges gave a mournful creak.
My eyes darted to the contents of the kit. There, nestled in velvet, was a long, shimmering needle filled with a liquid the color of bruised violets.
Wolfsbane.
The hope died so fast it left me dizzy. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. "No," I whispered, scrambling backward until my spine hit the cold stone wall.
"Mali, please. Not that. Anything but that."
"Mali, please look at me," I begged, my voice cracking.
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