Declan: Declan stood in a dark corner, watching the sleeping girl on the bed. Every breath was a struggle, and he could smell death’s approach. She wasn’t long for this world, and it was clear that even in her sleep, she couldn’t fully escape the illness that ravaged her. Quietly, he glided out of his hiding place, and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. It was difficult connecting with a dying mind. Sometimes they were filled with anger and fear, more often with peace – but all of them were difficult. He had to try though – had to see how far gone she was. It would be easier talking to her in her dreams, where people tended to let their barriers come down and showed their true selves. Very gently, so as not to disturb or cause her pain, Declan took the girl’s hand in his. Her mind was quiet, almost blank, then suddenly the darkness broke open, and bright light flooded in. They were in a sunny meadow. Flowers of all types and colours cove

Declan: “Stop screaming,” he said as he tried to hold on to the fighting girl in his arms without hurting her. He realised his mistake the minute he picked her up. He really should have taken an extra minute just to let her know he was coming for her, but his nerves got the better of him and he grabbed her before he could change his mind and run away. Aster kept going. He didn’t know it was possible for one, frail, sickly girl to bellow so loudly. “Jesus Christ, will you stop?” Gently, he lowered her to the floor, and she abruptly stopped hollering. At the same time, her legs gave way, and she crashed to the floor. Declan caught her just before she cracked her head on the hardwood. “Why? What?” she asked, looking confused. “I’m sorry,” he said, and helped her to her feet. “I should have warned you.” “It’s okay,” she said, but he could hear the fear in her voice. “It’s me – I’m so high strung.” God help him, he liked her. Every

Declan: Declan struggled to open his eyes. It was daytime, and the light stabbed him like millions of tiny needles, burrowing under his skin. Something, someone, repeatedly punched him in the chest though he barely felt the blows, and somewhere, far away, he heard a girl screaming and crying incoherently. It took his foggy mind several minutes to register where he was. He tried to force his eyes open. Being awake during the day was difficult. Painful. He didn’t want to do it, but Aster was in full-blown panic mode; and why wouldn’t she be? She thought he was dead. Summoning all his strength, Declan somehow managed to open his eyes, and struggled upright. The room was too bright, and the whole place looked like it was hazed in a mist of red. “Aster,” he said, but the word came out as a barely audible croak. He tried again, but she was so frantic that she didn’t hear him. Groaning loudly, he willed his muscles to move. Somehow, he manag

Declan: Declan woke right after Aster left the room. He listened to her padding down the hallway to the shower, heard the rattle of the old pipes as she opened the taps, and then soft singing while she readied to take her shower. He enjoyed the moment; could even see himself wake up just like this every night. For a few minutes, he allowed himself to think about it. The what if of the future, unencumbered by Rowan, Katelynn, his brothers…just him and Aster, living their own little life somewhere far away. It wasn’t at all an unpleasant fantasy. But then he remembered that he barely knew anything about her, and there was still a good woman out there whose heart he'd have to break – and he still didn’t know what his father had planned. Sighing, he got up from the floor. His body still ached, and while it wasn’t as bad as before, he knew that if he didn’t get some nourishment, he’d be in tremendous pain and half dead by the time he had

Declan:  It was a beautiful night. The full moon bathed the garden in a white, ghostly glow, and the hidden lights twinkled in the dark giving the grounds a magical, fairy tale appearance. Like the mansion, the garden was absolutely devoid of any human life, but he heard animals all around them. Frogs croaking in the ponds, rabbits hopping through the grass, birds chirring softly in their sleep. Declan stopped, and turned to Aster, “Take me to your favourite place.” “Why?” Now that she felt better, he had the feeling she won’t submit so easily to him. Unlike the previous night, she now questioned everything. “If you are in a place you love, you’ll fight harder to come back.” “I don’t understand what that means. Tell me what it means.” He glanced at the moon, then at his watch. They had precious few hours left. “I’ll tell you on the way.” She nodded. “This way.” They walked side-by-