Hearing his loud grunt, Callus let out a low, mocking chuckle.
And somehow within that enclosed space, that intimidating atmosphere ran a chill down Zion's spine as if his instincts wanted to warn him about something.
Callus lit out another cigar before he marched a few steps closer, his voice almost dropping to a lethal whisper.
"You've been sick for years, Zion. If there was another way to recover your sense of touch, you would have found it by now. Unless..."
All of a sudden, Callus paused, his sharp eyes narrowing a little when he scanned Zion's furious face.
His expression depicted as if he was searching for any hidden weakness when he uttered, "Unless you've already found someone else who can cure your condition? Is that why you are resisting that healer so fiercely?"
Zion's breath hitched, as if his heart had stopped for a second.
Within an instant, a terrifying image of Earl's smiling face flashed through his mind.
