Terrorist attack

With Roman's help, I manage to get Thorne into another bath. His body is burning, muscles tensing at every slight touch, a sure sign they've given him some sort of rut-inducing drug. My stomach churns at the thought, but I know how to fix this. Thank Luna, my mother's teachings on herbs have always been invaluable, and right now, I need them more than ever.

"Drink this, love," I murmur softly, coaxing him to swallow the bitter mixture. He barely resists, his feverish state leaving him pliant, his eyes glazed over but trusting. I dry his damp hair with a towel, trying to soothe him. "See? You're not dirty anymore," I whisper, more to comfort myself than him. His low murmur of agreement is enough to make me breathe just a little easier.