Chapter Forty-Nine

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Darkness.

Darkness rolls over me and swallows me whole like a tidal wave, slowly drowning me. I can't breathe, my mind is foggy, and my eyes are sealed shut, unable to be opened. My heart is thumping loudly against my chest, so loud that its erratic beat drums in my ears and adds onto the pain that the headache brings me. My muscles are sore, the whole of my body seems numb, and I can't move a single limb. I seem to be paralysed and trapped in my own self. The only thing that I can do is hear and taste. I taste the nothingness in my mouth and my throat is completely dry, like scraping sandpaper that grates against my throat irritably. I can hear the clanking and clicking of heavy metal, like the sound of chains being dragged harshly against a smooth stone surface, and the sound of an icy wind whooshing through gaps and holes and stabbing me with invisible icicles on my cold skin.

I can still feel that strange sensation of a poignant pressure pressing against itself from the inside of my veins, running through my blood like poison. I feel like I've been gone for a few seconds and I can't remember how I got where I am.

I don't even know where that is.

Slowly but surely I feel my drugged state slowly evaporate, and I manage to rip my eyelids apart so that they open, but black spots still cloud my vision. My lips are still dry, and when I lick them it stings slightly, as if they've had ice cubes on them for too long and are all cracked and shrivelled.

I let out a sigh of relief when the black splotches fade and I eagerly take in my surroundings. I've never been here before, and the dim lighting from the stars and the moon filtering through the narrow gaping squares serving as windows are just enough for me to actually see the outline of the place. It seems to be an old warehouse, with the noises of heavy objects and metals being pulled and dragged and placed down below the stone-cold floor on which I'm seated. The walls are cracked bricks, worn and crippled from age, and the air smells damp and humid, hard to breathe. There's even a slight sent of ash lingering that makes it inevitable for me to cough now and then. The cold breeze flowing through the gaps in the walls and letting view to the ink night sky outside is the only thing managing to cool me down: I'm somehow plastered with sweat to the clothes that I wore when I was in the forest with Killian, Asher and Jasper-

Jasper!

My breathing picks up at the thought of that name. First, confusion settles in, but then it vanishes and an explosion of anger, grief and sadness clouds my mind and envelops my heart. I remember him sticking a needle into my arm and drugging me completely, but then - blackness. How could he do this? What has he done?

I don't even know why I'm here, but I vaguely remember Killian warning me that he'd get me when I least expected it. You could say that he caught me by surprise.

Then Emma and Mary fill my mind: where are they? Is Killian holding them here as well? Where is this so-called here anyway?

"Stop asking yourself so many questions princess, you're giving me a headache." Killian fills my head with sharp stabs and an icy voice, and I repress the urge to groan in pain. Instead I narrow my eyes as I imagine him standing right in front of me in the darkness of the apparent warehouse's cellar-looking room, and not in my head.

"Stay out of my mind then, and you might not get those so-called petty headaches arsehole." I hiss, instantly apprehensive of what's to come. I really shouldn't be acting witty, but I can't really suppress the bitch face when he acts like such a smartarse.

"You're in no position to make me, princess, or maybe you haven't noticed that already. I'd say that Jasper did quite a good job with you. Well, I'll have to leave you to yourself, I've got business to attend to. I'll come for you soon enough Camilla."

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