Marcel felt the wrongness in the air even before his eyes were opened. A cold chill fell over him when he remembered what happened.
It was Luka!
He trusted him! Who knew he would betray him in the end? Even if a prophet had told him that would happen, Marcel would never believe it. They were not just superordinate and subordinate, they were brothers! They made sacrifices for each other, fought on the same side, and in the end, he was in league with his father.
Cold water was suddenly splashed on Marcel, erasing all traces of sleep from his eyes and he lifted his head with a gasp. Shivers danced down his spine, the cold seeping into his skin but he didn't take notice of it because his eyes connected not with the bastard that treated him that way, but rather the man behind him clapping enthusiastically.
Richardo.
With a low growl, Marcel lunged forward but the chains tugged him back and he couldn't go past a certain limit.
