I rarely talked about dreams. Actually—it was a rule I made.
This life in Anarchy was all I’d ever known. What lay beyond? It seemed impossible.
Unknown.
A part of me wondered if the appeals were real at all—or if on the other side of that waiting room they called us into was a firing squad to clear out space for more alphas down here. I’d never say it out loud, but I knew the others had considered it from the occasional flutter of doubt, or coldness, or fear when we brought up the chance of escape.
It was hard not to feel like animals in Anarchy, at the mercy of the faceless men above deciding our fate upon a whim.
Packswererejected for their appeal, though, if they didn’t qualify—were too feral for normal life. That gave me hope that it wasn’t all just a ruse, and I had to hold on to that.
Though it was a dream that I couldn’t hope for too hard, or I was afraid it might turn to smoke.
The funny thing was, I don’t think I’d ever spoken my dreams out loud. I might just have stared at those murals so long, the others had read into it.
But Crescent looked so hopeful. She’d been here for such a short time, maybe none of this felt so impossible.
Maybe for her, I could say one thing.
One time.
“It would be nice to see a forest,” I said.
Maybe I had. Perhaps before experiments had stolen my memories away.
Sometimes, if I stared at the mural long enough, I caught the faint smell of something earthy, as if there were memories in there somewhere.
She glanced around the rest of the room. “There’s so little of it here. You’ve been here, what, a year and a half?” she asked. She looked sad for me.
I nodded.Vandle and I had arrived about the same time, and Phantom and Karma had been here twice as long, though they hadn’t found a pack until we came along.
Crescent looked curious. “Why don’t you remember before?”
“There are quite a few down here that came from experimentation or trafficking rings that don’t. Vandle’s another one.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Means there are some people out there that like to gamble with nature, but they don’t like the evidence getting out.”
Another reason to be nervous of our appeal.
Another thing I needed to push away.
She bit her lip. “The world out there… They shouldn’t be able to get away with that. They teach us no one is supposed to be above the law.”
“In the Convent?”
“Everywhere.”
“Do you believe it?”
She peered up at me. “I don’t think so. It just felt like something people say to feel better. Kinda like the sermons…” She trailed off, then her cheeks went pink, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t say that,” she mumbled, her voice muffled.
I chuckled, but her expression was crestfallen. “Don’t make me even prouder of you, Firefly.”
She unwound at the nickname, her eyes twinkling as they held mine.
God, I loved her so much.