Jeffrey Dean Morgan Walking Dead Negan นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He looks down and says, "Morgan... Morgan... Morgan... It seems that your involvement in our little arrangement has come to its end." "Please, Norman, I can still be of use..." Both Norman and Nathan chuckle as Norman leans down and connects the cuffs he always keeps in his office to her wrists, they don't have the same effect on her as they do on werewolves but it allows them to string her up against the wall and enjoy some fun, some pleasure and giving some pain before they both sink their fangs into her and drink until there is nothing left.

Claire returned a moment later, her expression unreadable. “What did he say?” I asked. “He knows Liam’s armed,” she replied. “He thinks Liam might flee if he feels too cornered. Or worse... he might not.” A chill swept through me. That wasn’t just fear. That was foreshadowing. _____ We met Morgan that evening. He looked older than ever—grief etched into every line of his face. Sadie’s death had taken something out of him. Etian’s had taken the rest. “I’ll fund the leak,” he said before we even sat down. “Whatever you need. I’m in.”

“Sinclair Media’s losing legacy weight, but it still holds assets worth salvaging. If Damien’s housecleaning reveals enough damage, then let's just say that people will be looking for a new center of gravity.” “And that’s you?” Morgan didn’t answer directly. He simply extended a crisp, gold-trimmed business card. “Think about it,” he said, then turned and disappeared into the crowd. Spencer looked down at the card, there was no title, just a name and two words: Morgan Hale Correction Division Back at the penthouse, Celeste had moved from the balcony and was standing in front of the fireplace, her tablet buzzing with updates. Damien’s voice came low behind her. “You okay?”

Morgan was placed on an oak table, the one at which holidays and meetings had previously been celebrated. The pack gathered around and stared at Reed in silent question. Such strong werewolves, but without their leader, they looked like blind puppies. They need someone to take responsibility. "Trent did it," Reid said. Standing behind everyone, I felt rather than saw their dumbfounded faces, - He gathered the renegades, with the help of Fred, lured ... Morgan, - the name of his uncle was not easy for him, his voice trembled, but he gathered himself and continued firmly, - Only he could inject him a tranquilizer from the back.

“So rare that most packs don’t have a single carrier. Even among Alphas, it’s uncommon.” Everywhere became silent again, then a voice broke through it. “I’ll do it.” I turned and saw Morgan. He stood near the door, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He looked tired, darker shadows under his eyes than usual. “I’ll donate,” he said again, calm and direct. “I’m not fond of him, but I’m not so small-minded that I’d watch him die.” My mother looked startled. My father studied Morgan closely, as if weighing his words.

“Morgana tried to attack me with a shiv, Austin. I was so focused on you passing out on the gurney and getting into the ambulance, that I didn’t react quickly enough. Grandpa shifted and jumped in front of me, taking the blow of the shiv on his side. It punctured his lung, and he was bleeding pretty badly. Everyone had been close to the silver, and everyone was weakened to some degree. So, after the ambulance took you away, another one arrived for grandpa and brought him here too for surgery.” Austin growls lowly. “Tell me Morgana isn’t still running around free.” “No, baby. She is in the deepest and darkest part of the dungeon at the central council. Stefan said she is going to die there. I

Xavier froze, his hands moving to the back of his trousers. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Xavier Remus. I don’t want to cause any trouble. I want you to know that this pathetic excuse for a pack is surrounded by my men. They are not just some weak werewolves, they are lycans and with a snap of my finger, this place will burn…everything you’ve ever owned or possessed will come to naught. All I need is Morgan. He is already dead. What use do you have of him again”? Morgan stirred and groaned behind me. Even in his state, he still exhumed his alpha pheromones.

It all came back to him. He was Morgan Garren, the former Alpha of the Bluemoon Pack, unjustly stripped of his leadership. Accused of treason, he was cast into the dungeon and left to rot with no food and no water. The guards beat him mercilessly, day after day. Then, Declan, his loyal beta, saved him. Declan had given him a powerful herbal tea that would stop his breathing for hours. When everyone thought he was dead, he was buried on the ground, but Declan dug him up and took him away.

“Tell me again why I agreed to this?” Morgan’s tired voice carried through the static. Damien finally reached for the radio and pressed the button quietly. “Because somewhere deep down you enjoy chaos.” A short laugh came through the line. “No, I think I officially crossed into insanity tonight.” Morgan lowered his voice slightly. “You realize I followed two men into the middle of nowhere because they told me secret laboratories are kidnapping supernatural children.” Zane smirked faintly beside Damien. Morgan continued. “I’m starting to think retirement would’ve been healthier.”

“Mr. Broot? The leader of “I is Free?” “Yes! Thats the one” The clicks intensified. “Mr. Morgan is a slave trader, it make perfect business sense.” A round of silent OH’s circuited the council. By the time everyone was walking out of the park, everyone inCanneti was convinced Kane Morgan had killed an innocent dwarf.