Evangeline gripped the silver needle and plunged it toward her heart.
The moment the silver needle pierced her skin, she shuddered. The color drained from her face, leaving it as white as paper, and large beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. A moment later, her trembling fingers pulled it free.
The once-gleaming tip of the needle was now completely coated in thick, dark blood.
Forcing herself to endure the pain, she held the blood-soaked silver needle over the cream. The coppery-sweet blood ran down the tip, dripping into the mixture like a string of tiny beads.
In an instant, the nauseating stench in the room dissipated, replaced by a soul-refreshing fragrance. The aroma spread, with delicate wisps drifting into the nose, instantly revitalizing one's senses.
What makes a medicine forbidden? Those with dubious origins, those imbued with a sinister aura—these are considered forbidden.
