Chapter 95: The Antidote
Charlotte waited anxiously, her eyes locked on the entrance to the underground tunnel. Greenish smoke continued to pour out, carrying a stench that made anyone nearby cough violently or even pass out.
If just a little bit of that smoke could do that... what was happening to Damon inside?
"He ... something must’ve happened to him in there," she whispered, gripping the sleeve of Diana’s coat, her voice full of fear. "Please ... we have to help him."
"I can’t," Diana said softly, turning her face away. She swallowed hard, fighting the knot in her throat. "He told us to leave. And even if we went back in, I don’t know if we could get him out. Not with all that smoke."
Louis had already sent the werewolves to grab protective gear—gas masks, special suits—but they were still at least thirty minutes away. And with so little time, no one could say for sure if Damon could hold on.
"He’ll make it," Louis said, placing a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. "He promised he’d find the antidote for you. That means he’s not giving up."
Like the others, Louis was just as worried. Deep down, he wasn’t sure his brother could survive the poison gas either, but he buried that doubt and chose to believe that Damon would crawl out of that hellhole.
Besides, they still weren’t sure if the gas was truly poisonous or simply meant to knock them out. So far, no one has died because of it. Most only fainted, and their vitals remained stable, no signs of it being fatal.
And for that reason, maybe, just maybe, Damon would survive.
But even with all the logic, all the hope, Charlotte couldn’t stop the fear from clawing at her heart. The thought of losing Damon, of never seeing him again ...
It was almost too much to bear.