Chapter 240. Bring out the Dead

MORGAN

Abbas must have hit me really hard. I felt like he had knocked me into next week. I opened my eyes from what seemed like an eternity of blackness. Blinking slowly as the light filtered into them, brightly and without remorse. The smell of dampness and mold reached my nose and without having to look around I knew I was in some type of cell. Years of being held in one had the scent of cold stone and damp ground embedded into my senses. It seemed wherever I was—it was well-lit.

"The little witch wakes," I cringed at the use of the nickname Kian called me. It didn't have the same effect as this man's sinister and pompous meaning.

I wiped my mouth of the drool that had gathered and hoisted myself up from the front-lying position I found myself in. I slowly turned, feeling every ache in my bones, swung my legs over the cot I had been placed on, and pulled myself into a sitting position. Rubbing my temples to try and ease the pounding that was c