{SOL}
I scoffed weakly, even as another cough rattled out of me.
I was not a man who trust easily—least of all trusting in strangers. And certainly not in werewolves. Unshifted, arcaneless ones at that. She's so weak . . . desperate.
And yet…
Why had I believed her?
Who was really the desperate one here?
It was true that she possessed an abnormally fast healing ability. That much I had confirmed with my own eyes.
I had purchased her precisely because she recognized my sickness with a single touch—something even court physicians had failed to do.
Whether she could consciously manifest that healing as arcane magic was another matter entirely.
But desperation does strange things to reason.
At that moment, she had felt like my only hope.
And when I saw her hand split open under the shadow guard's blade—only to knit itself back together with terrifying speed—I knew her abilities were no illusion.
That cut had not been an accident.
