Chapter 60: A Special Shrimp Salad
"No, Charlotte! You’re right!" Diana suddenly grabbed her hand, her eyes wide with realization. "Drugs! Maybe this is all happening because of some kind of drug!"
But the thought still didn’t fully add up. What kind of drug could possibly make a werewolf lose their healing ability? It made no sense, yet it seemed like the only reasonable explanation.
"We need to get a doctor to run some tests on his blood," Damon muttered, his gaze narrowing as he watched the rogue werewolf, who was now drooling and eerily still, like some kind of lifeless statue. "But ... I have a feeling he’s not going to make it before the doctor arrives."
"Get out, Charlotte," Damon said softly but firmly, stepping in front of her to shield her view. "This isn’t something you need to see."
Charlotte knew she could handle it, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized Damon was probably right. Watching a werewolf die like this wasn’t going to give her any pleasure—it would only leave her with a nightmare.
"I’ll wait outside," she said quietly.
As she turned toward the door, she caught a glimpse of the rogue werewolf’s eyes bulging, as if they were about to burst from his skull. His skin turned a sickly green, and the wounds on his body started to rot.
How could something like this happen?
But she didn’t ask. She simply stepped out of the room, leaving Damon and Diana to handle it.
The pack of werewolves stood outside the door. They all glanced at her briefly but said nothing.
Charlotte sighed. They weren’t rude; they probably just felt awkward speaking to her since she hadn’t interacted much with them yet.