Asher sat back on the bench, his back relaxed against the desk, his affected arm stretched out across the table.
Sinnett stood beside Cinder, watching as she downed a bottle of vinegar while doing little jumps and warm-ups, trying to increase her manner and poison production, and the toxicity of it.
Nova, who had been a little uncomfortable with Cinder being so close to Asher, had gone to fetch what Sinnett had demanded:
Three syringes, rubber gloves, water and disinfectant, and Emma and Tay.
It had been five minutes since she left, and Asher was getting worse by the minute.
His breathing had grown shallow, his amber eyes had dimmed, and the veins in his eyes were becoming more pronounced. His sclera was darkening too, and not in the good way like during his transformation.
He was so terribly weak he couldn't even keep his eyes open anymore. He just sat there, exhausted, silent, and suffering.
