“Yes,” Thane says simply.
“Even though my body responds.” The confession tastes like bile. “Even though I’m aroused watching her—”
“That’s not your fault,” Stellan says, and there’s something almost gentle in his tone. “Visions aren’t passive observation. They pull you in. Make you feel what the subject feels.”
“She was terrified,” I say, looking up at him. I know he can see the shame in my eyes. “And aroused. And I felt both. But my body only responded to one.”
“Because that’s what she was feeling strongest,” Thane says quietly. “You’re not aroused by her fear, Theo. You’re responding to her desire. To her pleasure. That’s what the vision showed you most clearly.”
“While someone I can’t see touches her,” I whisper. “While she’s trapped somewhere and I just—I just watch and feel—”
“You’re seeing her,” Stellan interrupts. “That’s what matters. You’re the only thread we have to wherever she actually is.”
Across the hall, Rhett’s demonstration is wrapping up. The refugees are dispersing. Soon they’ll notice us huddled in the corner, notice the tension crackling between us.
“What do I tell them?” I ask quietly. “When they ask what happened?”
“Nothing,” Thane says immediately. “Not yet. If the others think something’s wrong—if they start questioning her—whoever’s wearing Bree’s face will know we’re onto them.”
“So we just pretend everything’s fine?” The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. “While the real Bree is trapped somewhere being—” I can’t finish.
“While we gather information,” Stellan corrects. “While we use your visions to figure out where she is and how to get her back.”
“And if I’m wrong?” The question comes out broken. “What if these visions are just my fears? My desires twisted into nightmare? What if I’m seeing what I’m afraid of instead of what’s real?”
“Then we’ll figure that out too,” Thane says. His silver eyes meet mine, and for once there’s something almost gentle in his expression. “But right now, those visions are all we’ve got.”
I close my eyes, trying not to see her face. Her fear. Her need. The way she looked directly at me without recognition, like I was just another shadow in her nightmare.
“Okay,” I say finally. The word tastes like surrender. “I’ll keep looking.”
Even if it destroys me.
Even if every vision drives the guilt deeper.
Even if I never wash the shame of being aroused by her suffering.
I’ll keep looking.
Because if I don’t—if I let fear or shame stop me—then she’s lost.
And I can’t live with that.
Thane nods once. Stellan’s expression doesn’t change.
“One more thing,” Stellan says as we prepare to rejoin the others. “Don’t tell Wes. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s already unstable,” Thane says bluntly. “His feeding patterns are erratic. His control is slipping. If he knows the real Bree is trapped somewhere, being touched, he’ll spiral.”
I remember the way Wes looked earlier. The wary watching. The tension in his shoulders.
“He already suspects something,” I say.
“Let him suspect,” Stellan replies. “But don’t confirm. Not until we know more.”
I nod slowly.
