I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to budge as if glued together. I sensed what was happening around me, not as if I were truly there, but as if I was a blind observer unable to move or see.

"Lift her head and open her mouth," Alysha commanded whoever held me.

I felt nothing until something burned down my throat, setting my insides on fire. Something that tasted of fire, herbs, and blood. I choked, and only then did I feel myself turn my head and my lips pressed tightly together. My tongue began to feel more normal as I protested.

"No," I said, my eyes still closed as I violently shook my head. "Not bloo—" More searing liquid was forced down my throat, and then my lips and nose were closed, and I began to fight. Until I swallowed. The hold on me was released as my eyes flew open, and I tried to spit what remained in my mouth out.

Glaring at everyone in the room, Alysha stood over me with relief in her blue eyes as they softened on me. Alastair stood stoically close by, and I felt what I was laid back upon. It was a rigid body with hands still holding me loosely now in place. I turned my head to see Lore.

His stern glare seemed at odds with the situation. "A vampire that doesn't like blood. Imagine that."

"There's vampire blood in that." I clamped my lips together, refusing to take another drop even as I felt the effects begin to work.

The acrid taste of old blood. The slight taste of rot that came with the undead numbed my tongue, and then, in horror, I realized it turned sweet. I was ashamed to admit I enjoyed the taste.

“This… I…” I couldn't form words as I tried to process it. I'd drank vampire blood. The memory of the day my father had forced some down my throat and was planning to kill me only to conveniently forget. I'd waited all day for my mortal death. I'd never forget the taste.

"Yes, necessary evil to clear the poison." Lore shrugged unapologetically. Unaware of the turmoil boiling inside of me.

"I hate you." I spat whatever was left over of the tonic onto his face.

He didn't flinch; he only pushed me up, stood, and paused shy of the door. My mortification over slobbering on him ceased as I hoped he was drenched in it. Served the bastard right.

"And I hate you too, vampire," he barked as the door shut behind him.

He'd known. That bastard had known I'd hated blood and yet didn't care. Even if it was a tonic to save my life, he didn't have to use vampire blood. Though vampire blood wouldn't hurt me or turn me in such small quantities, having it in my system, anything could happen. If I died, it could be enough to transition me to a full-fledged vampire. The fear was enough to send a sharp pain of fear through me.

Yes, it had healing properties, but it had far worse consequences for me. It could entirely turn me. Anger boiled inside me as I thought about the possibilities. A little bit probably wouldn't affect me as much, which was a relief. I still felt the tenseness of my muscles as the anger dissipated. Soon, I forced myself to relax, and resolve filled me.

In that moment, everything clicked, and I knew exactly how to escape this place and save these people. All I had to do was take out Lore and break this cursed hold he had on us. It was nothing less than he deserved.

Only my dagger was now lost in a dangerous, poisonous jungle of thorns and vines.

I slowly stood up, then went to brush the dirt from my now bloodied clothing, wincing when I remembered my hand and the cut.

“Give me your hand.” Alysha held her palm out.

I stared at her palm for a long moment before my gaze traveled to look around. Alysha had supplies ready to clean and bandage it, and as my eyes met hers, I realized it would be a losing fight to deny her. With a sigh, I placed my palm in her hand and let her sit me in front of her as I watched her unwind the makeshift bandage.

"That was the last nice tunic in your size," Alysha chided. "You'll have to wear dresses from here on out."

She eyed the torn sleeve for a moment before going back to her work, tenderly cleaning the blood from the wound I now saw was deeper than I'd initially thought. Some green substance seemed to stick to my skin as she washed it away gently. I pressed my teeth together to keep from wincing from the pain, and then, as she began to clean the wound deeply, I bit my lip, stopping quickly when I tasted the coppery tang of blood. It was so different from the blood in the tonic, which had tasted like death.

I watched silently, already seeing the slow healing take place. It would be a few days, and only a red line and a scar would mar my hand.

"Do you know the story of how dragons came into existence?" Alysha asked as she leaned in close, sniffed the wound, and then pursed her lips together as if concentrating.

"The sun goddess created them." I shrugged, careful not to move. "Where I'm from, not much is taught about the sun clan other than they are the enemy."

"Seems not much has changed in the world outside our walls," Alastair muttered from close by.

"No, I suppose it never does." Alysha nodded as she used something sticky to press my cut together, holding it tight. I tried to jerk back, but her grip became firm. So, I relented.

"I'm sure some things have changed…" I trailed off, unsure of how long they'd been here. Leggings and long tunics were a style from long ago.

Alastair sighed. "For me, it's been a few centuries." He paused, his gaze going to Alysha and softening. "But for them it's been longer than they can even begin to remember."

Alysha nodded. "Our real curse is time, it's true."