"Touch the door, the vampire dies. Touch the window, the vampire dies. Touch any kind of weapon-"

"The vampire dies. Got it." Camila jumped in, interrupting Zora's monologue. Alex and she had surrendered quickly. With Zora's powers and the twelve werewolves behind her, not to mention Declan, it had seemed prudent to save their energy and not start a pointless fight.

The witch didn't seem to mind the interruption. She nodded briefly in acknowledgement. Gruffly, she asked, "You doing okay?"

"We're not friends," Camila snapped, vividly remembering the sharp terror she'd felt when Zora had knocked on the door, the ultimately pointless attempt to fight back, and the shock rooting her to the spot when she realized Declan was free.

"Certainly not with that attitude." Zora clapped her on the shoulder. Her lips didn't twitch when she talked. Her thin black eyebrows stayed firmly in one spot and her eyes would look more natural on a dead body. "Hang in there. We're not pure evil."

"Just mostly evil." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Apparently, her etiquette skills weren't thriving under a climate of kidnapping and surprise attacks.

Zora surprised her by laughing.

"At least you're honest," she chuckled, opening the door. "Remember, touch the door-"

"I think I got it, thanks."

Zora's thin lips tilted upwards. She smiled awkwardly, like she didn't quite know how. "You're welcome. It'll be nice to have another woman around here."

The metal door—a silver and steel alloy built specifically to keep werewolves captive—slammed shut behind her. She didn't trust Zora. She was a Vindicator, a powerful witch with a reportedly impressive kill count.

Even so, something like gratitude settled in Camila's heart. It was nice, she thought, to know that someone cared.

The room was clearly where the Vindicator's kept prisoners. It was perfectly square. A single window—enchanted glass, Zora had been happy to inform her—sat in the middle of the wall to her right. Everything was bleached white: the floor, the ceiling, the walls, even the chair nailed to the floor in the center of the room.

Declan didn't keep her waiting.

Camila had barely sat down when the door swung open again. He took a second to look at her—hunched over, hands clasped in her lap, hair hiding her face—before stepping inside.

"Anything you want to say to me?" He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

His knuckles were scraped raw, the skin an angry red. As if he'd hit something.

"Don't kill Alex," she said, peering up at him through long black eyelashes. "He's a good man. He doesn't deserve to die."

"No one deserves death." Declan glanced over at the door, almost like he was looking for an escape. His gaze darted back to her. His eyes were cold and hard, his mouth set in a thin line, and he was barely moving. It was like looking at a stranger. "But people die every day."

"Please," she whispered.

A muscle in his jaw tensed. "Anything else?"

"...What do you mean?"

"I said," He stepped closer. His eyes were dark as the depths of an emerald sea. If looks could kill, Camila would have been dead and buried the moment he stepped into the room. "Was there anything else you wanted to say to me?"

Camila gulped.

She pictured Alex: trapped in some other room, chained up, probably injured. She couldn't imagine Declan treating him with the same odd courtesy he tried to show her.

"Declan." She raised her chin, staring straight into his eyes. "I'm sorry I betrayed you. I imagine you're upset, and rightfully so, but taking your anger out on Alex isn't rational and-"

"Stop." He spoke softly, but with a confidence that made it clear he expected to be obeyed.

Her voice died in her throat.

Declan took another step closer, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. He was so close it was impossible for Camila to look away. "I don't want this- false, pleading apology."

"Well, then tell me what you do want, because I could really use a hint here" she snapped.

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"You're going to have to be a little more specific."

He just looked at her expectantly. Camila poked his chest with her finger. "Back up a little, would you? I need to focus."

She'd hoped for a slight smile, a sigh, a joke, any kind of reaction. Declan released the chair and moved to stand against the back wall.

When it was clear Camila wasn't going to reply, Declan said, "I want to know whether it meant anything."

Right. That.

Camila clutched the sides of the chair. The metal was hard, cool to the touch, but somehow comforting, almost like a stress ball. She wanted to have this conversation about as much as she wanted to be torn to pieces by hungry sharks.

"I assume you mean the kiss?" Her voice came out smooth and confident. Inside, Camila felt like a hive of bees had made a home in her stomach.

"Kiss might be underselling it." He wandered over to the window, peering out at the night sky. The moon cast a bright silver glow through the window, speckling the floor in rays of soft light. "Go ahead Camila. Don't be afraid to hurt my feelings."

"Declan..." How was she supposed to explain that she'd planned the whole thing? All while trying to stay on his good side? "...It wasn't a bad kiss."

"I'm so relieved," he drawled. Declan didn't look at her, his body still facing the window, but his fingers flexed like he wanted to hit something. "Quit stalling. Was it all part of some complicated plot?"

"I- It was part of a plan, yes. But I do think it meant something and I'm not just saying that to keep you happy-"

"Just stop talking, Camila."

"No. You're obviously spinning this as some horrible betrayal and you're going to take it out on someone and that's not reasonable. We're mates. Of course it wasn't meaningless. It just-"

Declan turned. He glowered at her. "Stop talking or Alex dies."

Camila stopped talking.

"You know, it meant something to me." He'd turned to look out the window again. Maybe he didn't want to see her. He tapped his fingertips against the windowsill.

It was quiet.

"I'm sorry," Camila tried.

He laughed. The noise was wild, almost manic, and the smile didn't reach his eyes. "What am I supposed to say to that, Camila? It's fine?"

"Say you'll let Alex go."

"Oh, I'm supposed to let him go now? That's rich." Declan stepped away from the window. He paced back and forth, every movement tense and fluid. "You know, every time I mention Alex, you just roll over and do whatever I want. Why is that, Camila?"

Camila jumped to her feet and stepped into his path. Declan came to halt, breathing hard. "Frankly," she said, straightening her back and looking him in the eye. "It's none of your business. But Alex is a friend who I grew up with. Nothing more, nothing less. And if you hurt him, I'm not going to forgive you."

"Maybe I don't care whether you forgive me. You've made it pretty clear there's no future for us." He loomed over her, a full head taller than she was, and for the first time since leaving the palace, Camila missed her heels.

She tried to work up her courage. "...Are you going to kill him?"

"Probably." He shrugged. "He knows too much. He's not particularly useful. And I don't really want to watch the pair of you dance around some- misguided perception of love."

Her heart sunk to her stomach.

"Really Declan?" She tried to convey a sense of bravado, of confidence, but her voice sounded high and reedy. Desperate. "You're exaggerating. You have other options."

Declan tilted his head. Contemplating. For a split second, Camila thought she'd gotten through to him, that maybe he'd seen reason.

"No. I don't think I do." His eyes traced her features, hovered over her lips. He looked away. "Sorry, Camila. I'm done playing nice."

Declan strode to the door.

Her heart thumped in her chest. A crazy, stupid idea burst into the forefront of her mind. Declan's hand wrapped around the doorknob-

"Wait!" Camila cried out. "Wait."

He paused.

"I'll marry you." She gasped the words out. "If you let Alex go, I'll marry you."

We have a second proposal! What do you think Declan will say? What's your first impression of Zora? Where is Spoon?

Thanks for reading!!

-Harley