Chapter Forty-Five

The trickling of water was the very first thing Ryanne heard, the moment he woke up with a pounding headache. Slowly opening his heavy eyelids, the view of the dirty ground came into view. Groaning for the position was not comfortable, he splayed his hands on the unfamiliar cloth underneath him and pushed himself up. Cracking his neck for pain had also developed from the intimate position he had slept in; he leaned against the surprisingly warm wall.

Passing a hand through his damp air, he finally examined his environment to find that he had woken up in a somewhat oval-shaped and shallow cave. Swallowing, he winced, for his throat felt dehydrated as if he had not drunk water in a long while. Moving his arm, he frowned when he saw numerous black patches decorating the surface. He depicted it as an odd herbal ointment applied to his flesh.

He sniffed the substance, and his nose instantly twitched, for the scent smelled disgustingly awful.