The first time Lucas woke, it was to a blur of light and sound. He tried to open his eyes, but it was so bright it almost blinded him. A searing pain bit into his wrists. He tried to yell, but his mouth was too dry to make a coherent sound; tried to move, but something held him fast. He panicked, wrenching himself this way and that, but the pain only got worse. He felt blackness coming to swallow him. Gratefully, he let it take him.

 

The second time Lucas stirred, he heard a voice. He’d heard voices before, floating around him, harsh and unfriendly, but this was different. This sounded like Faye. She was upset, crying, calling his name. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Faye wasn’t here.

 

Lucas tried to remember where ‘here’ was. The pain tore through his arms again. He sank once more into darkness, with Faye’s voice following him down, down into the depths.

 

The third time, there was silence. No – not silence, just peace after the storm. Or perhaps before it. Lucas waited for the pain, but it wasn’t as bad this time. He took a gulp of air, gave a sigh of relief.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

The light was fierce. It flooded everything, turning Lucas’s world into a halo of white. He blinked, this time determined to beat it. He wanted to see where he was. He wanted to understand what was happening to him, and why. It took several attempts, but Lucas managed to keep his eyes open longer and longer. He still couldn’t quite focus, but he tried to look around.

 

Everything was white – sterile, like a hospital room. It was cool too, bordering on cold. Lucas shivered and looked down at himself. He was in jeans and his David Bowie T-shirt. He remembered putting them on for the last day of school. But then . . .

 

He couldn’t remember what had happened next, but there was a rip in the knee of his jeans, and he could just make out smears of what looked like blood, stiff on his T-shirt. So whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been much fun.

 

A sound came to him from the other side of the room. Lucas stilled, listening, his heart racing into overdrive. Was there someone else in here with him? Or was it something else?

 

Lucas turned his head slowly, skirting the edges of the white, white room. His eyes hurt and his mind still couldn’t make proper sense of what he was seeing. Everything was blurred, out of focus, as if he was trying to look through water.

 

A black bulk interrupted the white. It was lying in the corner. Lucas froze, trying to focus on it. He felt he should know what it was. It moved, but did not come towards him.

 

A memory surfaced – of a girl’s voice.

 

‘Faye?’ Lucas asked, his voice a croak. ‘Faye . . .’

 

He suddenly felt very, very tired.

 

He slept.

 

 

Finn sat against the wall of the cell, knees up, arms still tied uselessly behind his back. He didn’t know how long it was since Faye had gone. Time had become meaningless.

 

Lucas was slowly spending more time awake. Finn had sat and watched his half-brother silently as he stirred. To begin with it had been for only moments, but then it had been for longer and longer. Then he’d managed to speak. And the first words Lucas had uttered for days had been for Faye.

 

Finn hadn’t replied, not on that first occasion, nor when Lucas had woken since – even though Lucas was now with it enough to realize that it was Finn in the chamber with him, not Faye. When Lucas had realized that, he’d panicked. He’d tried to get Finn to talk to him, to tell him what had happened and where Faye was. Finn hadn’t answered. He preferred it when Lucas was unconscious. Whether he was awake or asleep, Lucas couldn’t help Faye, so Finn had no reason for wanting him awake. He had no reason for wanting anything at all any more. Nothing seemed to matter.

 

‘Finn . . .’

 

Lucas was awake again. Finn didn’t look up.

 

‘Finn . . . Come on . . . You can’t just sit there for ever.’

 

Lucas’s voice was barely audible. It was easy to ignore him. But still, Finn wished he would just shut up. He rolled his shoulders, the most movement he had managed in hours, then leaned forward until his forehead rested against his knees. He shut his eyes, his mind full of nothing but Faye.

 

Why hadn’t he looked after her better? Why hadn’t he loved her better? How could he ever have thought she loved Lucas more than him? After everything they’d been through together, everything she’d been willing to sacrifice? How could he have let something as meaningless as jealousy come between them? She’d been his second chance, and he’d just let her slip through his fingers . . .

 

‘Finn,’ came Lucas’s voice again. ‘I don’t know what’s happened, but I know it must be bad. Faye was here, wasn’t she? Where is she?’

 

Finn didn’t answer.

 

Lucas coughed – speaking was obviously difficult, but he didn’t seem inclined to give up.

 

‘Come on, Finn. You can’t just sit there saying nothing for ever. Tell me what happened. Tell me – tell me where we are.’ There was a rattle as Lucas struggled against the bonds strapping his arms to the chair. ‘You’re stronger, Finn. Get me out of here. I’ll help you . . . I’ll help you find her.’

 

Finn felt something stir in his heart, and realized it was anger. Pure, unadulterated fury. It raged through him – enough to wake the wolf if it hadn’t been for the silver keeping the beast at bay. He was angry at Koskay, at the weak people who had let him suck them dry to feed his strength. He was angry at Lucas – for being his brother, for showing Finn what his life could have been if he’d been born a little different. But most of all . . . most of all Finn was angry with himself.

 

He kept trying to find a reason for all of this, trying to work out what he should have done differently. And really, there was only one answer.

 

You shouldn’t have let her love you. You should have left her alone. She wouldn’t be dead if you’d just . . . left her alone.

‘Finn?’ Lucas asked again, his voice fading. ‘C-come on, Finn. You’ve got . . . got to . . .’

 

Silence returned as Lucas passed out again.

 

Finn didn’t move.