I pulled the cork from the vial with my teeth.
Inside sat a pale, odorless powder Morgath had given me before I left the ravine—a mild weakness potion designed to sap a wolf's strength, clouding their senses and making their limbs feel like lead within minutes of drinking it.
I didn't dare try to trick Chloe into walking to the southern ridge on her own. She was too smart, too resilient, and too suspicious of me. But if I slipped this into her morning tea, she'd be too weak to fight when I guided her out the rear postern door under the excuse of taking her to Doctor Luther's infirmary.
I stepped quietly over to the wooden tea tray sitting on the kitchen prep counter.
A steaming porcelain cup sat beside a small pot of chamomile, prepared by the kitchen staff for Chloe's morning routine.
