Batista's POV
Kai led me straight to the healer's tent, his grip like iron on my arm.
According to him, we needed confirmation — to be sure it was really Varynthorn running through my veins.
I'd heard of it before. The elders in our pack had spoken of it in whispers, around sacred fires and inside locked council chambers.
An ancient poison.
Banned centuries ago.
It was crafted for one purpose — to bring down Alphas.
The stories said it attacked not just the body, but the bond to the pack itself. Stripping away an Alpha's connection to his wolves, his power, his claim.
The poison was a colorless, odorless liquid, made from the crushed petals of a mythical plant called Nightfang Bloom — a black flower said to only grow in the shadows of cursed forests, the kind no pack dared claim. Mixed with powdered bone ash from a dead Beta wolf and venom from a Shadow Viper, a serpent believed to exist only in ancient pack legends.
Well, the elders were right about one thing.
