“You're letting her into the infirmary?"
Tormac's voice rang across the hall like a blade.
Kael didn't flinch. “She created the antidote. She administers it."
“She's not a healer. She's not even—"
“She's the only one who isn't dead or delirious," Kael snapped. “Unless you'd prefer to bury more warriors by morning."
Tormac seethed, but said nothing more.
Kael turned to the door.
“She'll be watched," he added. “Constantly."
---
Ilena stood at the edge of the infirmary, flanked by two silent guards. The room reeked of sickness and silver-burned flesh.
Pale wolves writhed on cots, claws twitching. Foamed breath clung to lips. Pupils blown wide.
She stepped inside, clutching a vial of glimmering silver-green serum.
“I need clean water, moonwort cloth, and two assistants who won't vo
