The doctor finally left Damien’s room, bowing low, leaving behind the scent of herbs and the sharp truth of his words. Ivy had been poisoned with wolfsbane, a dosage high enough to kill most wolves. Yet, her body had resisted. Tolerance, he called it. Strength that wasn’t supposed to exist in someone so small.

Damien stood by the window, the glass trembling faintly in his palm as he replayed the doctor’s voice.

“She should be dead, my lord. But her wolf, it’s unlike anything I’ve ...