standard treatment for suicide attempts. Unless I actually succeeded and I’m in hell? That would make the most sense.
“Your perception is astounding,” Declan says dryly.
“Well, clearly you’re not identical in every way,” I toss back. I shoot Declan a saccharine smile. “Dean was right. You are the rude one, aren’t you?”
Dean laughs, and a thrill goes through me at the sound. Something about the pleasure in it feels nearly impossible in a place like this. And somehow that makes it all the more precious.
“I’m a realist,” Declan says stiffly, but his eyes are gleaming now. Whether it’s in playfulness or he’s plotting my death, I can’t quite tell yet.
“Okay, then. Give me the reality of my situation,” I tell him.
He tilts his head as if gauging whether I can actually handle it.
“All right. Here it is. You’ve been kidnapped. Snatched away from your former life. A life, I can only imagine, empty enough that no one will even miss you. At least not in any way that would cause problems for the people who took you. And now you’re property of Le Rêve; a body they can use to continue the torture they’re so good at. There’s no escape and no end date to your stay here. And if that’s not enough of a nightmare, these accommodations,” he gestures to the damp cells we’re standing in, “while uncomfortable, are nothing compared to what awaits you upstairs. But don’t bother with fear or grief or any of those petty emotions that inevitably lead to hope. Because there’s none of that to be had in a place like Le Rêve. There’s only the cold. And the dark. And the silence. This is your life now. Best to try and accept it. Denial only makes it worse.”
When he’s finished, I lick my lips, trying not to show how much his words have scared me. I know that’s what he’s waiting for. To watch me fall apart. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“They really should hire you to write their PR,” I say, falling back on sarcasm. “You’ve got quite the sales pitch.”
Dean chuckles and Declan raises an eyebrow, then his gaze flicks to the bandage on my wrist.
His expression softens, and for a moment I can see the mask lift to reveal the vulnerability underneath. The pain there cuts deeper than any razor ever could, and I inhale sharply, blinking away instant tears at the brokenness I see in him.
Then, he blinks, and just like that, it’s gone.
“You tried to hurt yourself,” Dean says quietly.
I look at him, because it’s much easier than looking at Declan. And even if he is doing a terrible job of changing the subject, it’s better than the horror his twin described.
“Yes.” The word isn’t much more than a whisper as I remember the desperation I felt. Instantly, I’m aware of the silence ringing in my ears and hope blooms inside me. Maybe the voices are gone now. Maybe I bled them away. Like a poison to be let.
“What about you?” I ask. “Did you—”
I look away, unable to bring myself to ask such an intimate question. But Dean shakes his head.
“No.”
“Then how did they—I mean, why did they bring you here?” I ask.
Dean doesn’t answer, but Declan makes a sound, and I look over to see his lips curl into a hardened sneer. His eyes glitter with something that makes me want to take a step back.
He opens his mouth and utters a growl that rises from deep inside, a guttural sound that makes me wince. The air around him seems to crackle with a sudden energy that lifts the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Dec,” Dean warns, but he sounds more annoyed than afraid.
Declan snarls at him and drops to all fours.
I back away. Despite the bars separating us, fear laces its way up my spine. Declan’s expression contorts, pain and rage radiating in an energy that suggests he’s more than what he seems.
Everything slows as I watch a transformation that should be impossible. There’s a pop and crack of bone that makes me wince as Declan cries out—a human sound that turns fast to something much more animal.
My eyes close and when I open them again, Declan is gone.
A wolf with thick brown fur stands in his place.
“Is that—? Did he—?” I can’t make the words come.
“Yes,” is Dean’s quiet reply.
Declan turns to me, and I’m caught in the sharpness of his glowing-eyed gaze, still that deep green, still keenly intelligent and