"Ha… ugh." Addison let out a bitter, mocking laugh that quickly turned into a pained groan as a sharp jab of agony from her ribs reminded her of her injury. The pain shot through her side, a cruel reminder of Claire's framing—and Zion's blind trust.
The pack doctor hadn't even looked at her before they threw her into the dungeon. The shard of glass lodged in her knee was still there, untouched, and by now Addison couldn't even tell where it hurt the most—everything just throbbed in agony.
She wanted to cry, to scream out the injustice and betrayal, but maybe the shock had gone too deep. No tears came. Her eyes were dry, her chest hollow, but the ache was still there—sharp, suffocating. She felt utterly miserable, inside and out, so much so that she couldn't even bring herself to pity her own state.
