MAEVE POV
I decide not to give Dorian any answer. It is too risky.
Every offer Dorian makes could drag me into a trap far worse than anything I have faced so far.
As soon as dinner ends, I hurry out of the dining hall. My head feels like it is spinning, and the nausea keeps getting worse. Cold sweat clings to my back, damp and icy. I rush to the restroom because my stomach can’t hold out any longer.
Bang.
I shove the door open, and the smell of ammonia hits me immediately. The nausea becomes unbearable, and I throw up inside one of the stalls. Once again, Dorian was right. The ammonia is sharper than the rotten scent clinging to my body.
I sit there for a long time, hugging the toilet, gathering what little energy I have left so I can make it back to my room. Eamon’s potion is not
