The shifter guards opened the thick wooden door that slid on rails.
With trepidation, she entered the room, natural light flooding in from the thin windows near the ceiling. Hay littered the stone floor.
A dirty blonde male with wild facial hair was to her left, locked behind steel bars. Around his wrist and ankles were silver cuffs, linked together. Rem had learned that smell right away once her senses changed, the scent metallic and permeating, with a completely indistinguishable element that made it different from all other metals.
Deacon looked up, shifting his head so he could see through his hair. His round eyes widened as he pushed the hair out of his face with his bound hands.
How the scenes have completely flipped.
He smiled when he saw her. "Your eyes are orange.”
Rem only nodded, not sure what to say. How did she bring up her concerns? Just threaten him? She had dreamt of the day where she could throw this back in the Callon’s faces, but she had also never done this before.
"Furs look good on you, too," he said, shifting in his position, hay rubbing against stone.
Rem furrowed her brows. "That's what Mavis said."
His eyes slightly hardened, and then he blinked a few times before saying, "Well, clearly it's the look for you, then."
"I'd say the same to you about the silver chains, but you do look pathetic.”
He laughed. "That's how I felt when I took you. Knew it had to be done, but youdidlook pathetic."
"I mean they areslightlydifferent circumstances," she said with some derision, her pity fleeting. "Yours is earned. Mine wasn't."
"Well, we're even now, I guess. So, how do you like being a shifter?" he asked with alert eyes, contrasting his dirty, emaciated appearance.
"Not much has changed,” she deflected. “Look, I want to talk about something.”
“Is it your brother?" he asked. "How is the little guy?"
She glared at him, her body stiffening.
Rem didn't like him talking about Oliver like that.
"Ronan said he'd be safe, or at least, that’s what a messenger said. You don't have to pretend that you care, you know. I didn't come here for an apology or to be friends. We need to talk, and I need answers."
He leaned back, a small frown forming on his face. "Well, guess I can’t avoid the questions by saying I have somewhere else to be—” he gave a small chuckle “—and trust me when I say that I didn't take joy out of being the one to take you from your home. But it couldn't be helped."
"Yes, itcouldhave been. You could have denied Owen or denied Jackson."
"No, I couldn't. I felt sorrier for myself than for you, as much as I hate to admit that. I needed what Owen was offering. So did Jackson and Gally."
Rem took a step forward, furrowing her brow. "Whatdidhe offer?" she asked, trying to coax any details out of him.
He stared at her for a long time before his eyes darted off. "I don't know what I can say," he mumbled.
Rem breathed in quickly, lightly shaking her head as she took a step forward. She needed answers for herself as well as for Freya. "No,pleasetell me. Look, fine, I get taking me. I really do. I mean, I clearly have reservations about the morality of it, but Iunderstandit. You were looking out for your family… What I keep losing sleep over, Deacon, is why takeOliver?" she asked, kneeling down, his gaze still averted. "Why were Owen and Fiona so focused on Ronan choosing me? And don't say 'it was to gain his good graces'. That makes no sense. You don't threaten the family of a potential future Luna. You clearly didn’t fear Ronan in the long run. So, you expected something to have happened by now. What is therealreason? Something is clearly, obviously wrong. Please… If you ever felt bad,trulyfelt bad, help me now.”
He sighed through his nose as he pursed his lips, his eyes unblinking while he stared into hers. "Our brother Owen was offered something that he couldn't refuse, and then offered me somethingIcouldn't refuse. Same with the others.”
She got closer to the bars and sat on the cold, dirty floor, but she paid very little attention to the discomfort. "He was offered something? Did it come from Fiona?"
"I shouldn't have said anything," Deacon replied, looking away as more of his hair fell into his eyes. He didn't bother to move it.
The lighting gently darkened in the room.A cloud must have rolled by.It made her feel like someone was watching her, like Fiona haunting them even in death. She placed her hand on her chest where the crystal lay beneath her clothes.
"Because it's always useful to say thataftertelling me things,” Rem chided.
