The Brave Human Mate

20.

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Healer Rhea's POV

Rhea's comment about all Healers knowing the dark and light side of the craft had stuck with Osmin, and it was clear at every waking moment that she had witnessed of him at her side, that he was dawned at the very inkling that Rhea—The sweet and feeble little human who had just lost a pup, was at the ready to mass produce a poison.

But that was just the issue, how would one—Two, including Lillian, as Rhea heard her scoff at the idiotic question Osmin had asked her about her crafting poisons. As if it was too taboo to possibly manage to inflict a poison on an entire pack of wolves?

That was beside the point, as of right now, two hands weren't enough, even if they were the masterminds behind the invention. Poisoning was a delicate art and needed calculations, but how else would one manage a population than to tamper with the food supply, the communal food at that.

The only issue is the calculations, as neither Rhea nor Lillian knew just how much would be needed in order to successfully to overload their system. And that was based on what was local—Granted, with Rhea's now-known miscarriage, she walked through the camp with a bit more lenience than she was prepared for.

Whatever type of lie Osmin had run with, she was thankful. Even if the grunts had given her a few weary eyes—Clearly, they were either scared of her or scared for her.

And Rhea didn't know which was worse.

Besides the fact that most of the humans wouldn't look her directly in the eyes, it was almost impossible to get word to her men. It seemed like the Mad King had finally given some thought about being careful with his product. Meaning that there weren't as many men coming and going in the infirmary, making Rhea's guilt in having Lillian take over as Healer not too high.

Granted, over the last few days, Rhea had seen too much of the inside of the tent's ceiling and she didn't care who would be gull enough to tell her back inside, but she needed the fresh air if she was ever going to conjure up a high-intensity poison to manage through the entire camp.

As of right now, Rhea could count out the different factions—But getting it into their communal cauldron without suspicion was bad enough, especially when Osmin had a good group of wolves that were considered safe in her mind.

So, a poison with a possible cure, in the event someone it wasn't designed for has taken it. Rhea would need to hear the next time Osmin would travel, yet that plan would involve absolutely no aid if something were to go wrong.

No, this was near impossible, and poison wasn't exactly that easy to come by. Whichever neck of the woods they were in, it seemed to be absolutely depleted as is.

Yet upon her journey down the familiar path where most of the territory left their carriages and such, the traffic seemed much too busy to catch the ill Healer and her endeavorers than what the King has ordered of them.

Instead, she eyed the humans, not necessarily asking if they needed help, but she wasn't opposed to making an emotional scene to try and get them a bit of the same tenancy she's faced with.

In the midst of it all, she caught sight of Gilroy, and after a quick smile on his part, he hurried forward and continued to load another barrel of whatever substance the mad King was selling now.

Rhea was curious about the actual net worth here, but that was easy to push to another day. Especially when it was all going to come crashing down soon.
It was almost cruel of her to think of something so vengeful.

But that thought disappeared when she saw a new lineup of product being dropped off for the King, and the newest wolves had started to go about to shove and taunt the entire group.