Avery’s POV
I pressed my palm against the cut, trying to slow the bleeding, but it was pointless. The wound pulsed, the edges burning as if something was crawling under my skin. My heart was racing, too fast and too loud, drowning out everything else. The room tilted slightly, my vision swimming in and out of focus. My fingers felt numb, yet my body was slick with sweat.
What kind of poison was this? The symptoms weren’t adding up. My pulse was erratic, but I wasn’t losing consciousness. My muscles ached, but I could still move. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, but it wasn’t metallic like blood. It was something else. Something foreign.
What was it? Wolf’s Bane? No, my senses weren’t dulling. Belladonna? Possible, but my heart was racing, not slowing. Hemlock? The symptoms weren’t
