***ALARIC’S POV***
I stand outside the warehouse in the cold, a cigarette between my fingers, smoking. All my guards are with me, and I have no guard in the house to prevent anyone from finding out where I am.
It's very cold, and the cigarettes and drinks we drink do nothing to help. Every two hours, I step inside, the wooden door creaking as it swings open to check on Camilla.
It's two hours already, so I walk in, and she lies there, pale and fragile, looking white like a ghost.
I walk to her, holding the vial in my hand. I measure out a careful dose of the antidote and pour it into her mouth.
I have to keep administering it in small doses until she wakes up. Her breathing remains steady, her chest rises and falls slowly. I sit by her side, watching her, waiting for the moment when
