Adriel POV
"Drink it," Novalee said.
She slammed the mug onto the wooden table. The dark herbal tea sloshed over the rim, staining the pine.
Luka did not move. Robert did not move.
"Now," Novalee snapped, her fingers tightening around a silver dagger. "Before it cools. The magic requires heat."
Luka grabbed the mug first. He swallowed the bitter liquid in two heavy gulps and shoved it toward Robert. Robert grimaced, tipped his head back, and finished the rest.
"Excellent," Novalee muttered. She turned her sharp eyes toward the bed where Betty lay pale and silent. "Now for the blood. This blade has already touched the raw herbs."
She pressed the dagger into Robert’s palm.
Robert did not flinch. He dragged the sharp edge across his index finger. A heavy, dark red bead form on his ski
