With a swooshing sound in the background, a half-empty glass and a bottle of whiskey were left on the table, wobbling for a moment before it settled back on its place.
Upstairs, a dash of air swished over Blair's ashen face. She looked up just in time to see the image of Lucien standing in front of her.
Despite her sudden visitor, she didn’t have the energy to play host. Blair grimaced, whining and groaning over the pang her foot was giving her. The veins on Blair's neck started appearing as she tried to hold her scream and fight over the pain.
Lucien felt a little discomposed but still displayed calmness as he moved over to check Blair's foot.
His eyes squinted, and he shook his head as he stood back and said, "It's not looking good. I thought you'd be fine and could heal yourself. Yet, these wounds seem to get worse every second." He looked at her with a questioning look.
