Chapter 82 The Only Cure Is Death

• Rowena
• I hovered anxiously over the warrior’s bedside, my teeth gnawing at my bottom lip as I watched him strain against the thick leather restraints binding him to the cot. A thin sheen of sweat glistened across his brow, his eyes wild and glazed as he thrashed around—growls and snarls ripping from his throat like a feral animal.
• He had been sedated, which reduced his fury immensely. I wondered what it would be like if he hadn’t been.