Elara’s POV
The stranger’s eyes flutter open as I rummage through my supplies. They’re the most striking blue I’ve ever seen—like cobalt touched with ice. Even poisoned and in pain, there’s an intensity to his gaze that makes my mouth drop open.
“You need to lie down,” I tell him, pulling out my mortar and pestle. “That wolfsbane is going to spread fast.”
“I’m fine,” he grunts.
“You’re not fine.” I grab several herbs from my dwindling supply—silver-root, moonbell, and the precious healing moss I’ve been hoarding. “Wolfsbane thrives on how strong you are. It’ll kill you within an hour if we don’t neutralize it.”
He tries to push himself upright, but the movement makes him hiss in pain.
“I don’t need—”
“Please, just let me help you.” I start grinding the herbs with urgent efficiency.
