  &quot;What? Why? Do you think I m lying?&quot; The sudden rise of emotion in him has me on edge, too, and I panic that I m scaring away my only ray of hope to escaping. He appears to be running away, but as he turns to close the door, the tear I catch in his eye silences me and he pauses, taking a deep breath and lowering his hands. The open door between us keeping us a couple of feet apart, but his sadness overwhelms me.
  &quot;Eight years of silence. Eight years watching her sleep. Eight years hoping that one day the things she said … I d accepted that my friend had lost her mind completely. Eight years ... and I convinced myself that her visions and stories were that of a madwoman, broken by a battle that convinced her that her mate was an evil player in some bigger plan, and her confinement here was a betrayal to silence her. Eight years justifying that she was better off asleep t

  &quot;What?&quot; it s like every cell in my body stops as a deathly silence fills the air, shock stilling my thoughts, my lungs ceasing to move, and you can hear a pin drop as his words sink in slowly—so fucking slowly. 
  Juan executed my family. They didn t die in battle. 
  That s a lie. It can t be true because they weren t the only pack to never return. The entire Whyte line, among others, all died protecting our kind. It was a war, for God s sake, and we had many casualties. Did Juan kill them all, too?
  The doc has to be playing me, lying to mess with my head for some kind of ulterior motive, and I m falling for it. Maybe it s a test to see if I m strong enough to turn, despite being in this isolation tank. Maybe I was wrong to trust him, and this is all a ploy to break me down and get intel he thinks I may have ... but how would he know her name?
  I take a much-needed breath

  I hate being stuck in human form and completely powerless to even get out of this dumb glass. Everything in here is bolted down, probably because they don t want prisoners throwing things at the window, and I am not about to kill myself by hurtling my body through it to see if it breaks. Without being able to turn, I would probably bleed to death. Be that unlucky girl who brought down a shard over my neck or something, and still be stuck here. A shriveled, empty corpse to stink the place up. 
  That jerk didn t even let me eat like he said and my stomach growls angrily at the lack of having food since God knows when. I don t even know what time it is, morning or night, or how long I was sedated in that room, considering there are no windows underground. I last ate in the day before sleeping in that damn tree, where all my possessions are, and I m starving. It s no wonder I feel weak an

&quot;What? Why? Do you think I m lying?&quot; The sudden rise of emotion in him has me on edge, too, and I panic that I m scaring away my only ray of hope to escaping. He appears to be running away, but as he turns to close the door, the tear I catch in his eye silences me and he pauses, taking a deep breath and lowering his hands. The open door between us keeping us a couple of feet apart, but his sadness overwhelms me.
  &quot;Eight years of silence. Eight years watching her sleep. Eight years hoping that one day the things she said … I d accepted that my friend had lost her mind completely. Eight years ... and I convinced myself that her visions and stories were that of a madwoman, broken by a battle that convinced her that her mate was an evil player in some bigger plan, and her confinement here was a betrayal to silence her. Eight years justifying that she was better off asleep than to be tortured by an illness of the mind.&quot; I don t know if he s saying this to me or himself

chapter 41