By the time the motorcycle roared back into the Blackthorn estate, the better part of the day had already bled away.
Selena remained lucid—sharp, even.
It was a stark contrast to the past six months, where every intense encounter had left her drained, her strength and senses harvested until she collapsed into a hollow unconsciousness. This time, there was only the slight, rhythmic ache of physical exertion. Mentally, she felt strangely invigorated.
Was the post-coital collapse also a side effect of the botanical suppressant? she wondered.
It seemed the toxin had been eroding her on every front—from her stamina to her perception, her supernatural abilities to her most basic bodily functions. Nothing had been spared.
It had been some time since the apothecary, Johnson, had visited and t
