Following our departure from the dining room, Conner seems agitated, almost like he isn't sure whether to say something or stay silent. In the end as we walk down the hall, I decide for him.
"Conner, why are you angry with your father? And why did Alec seem guilty and afraid?"
Conner's brow furrows in concern as he contemplates telling Ren the truth or dodging her questions again.
"How about we make a deal," he finally states. "For every question of yours I answer, you must answer one of mine."
"Okay, then. What made Alec act so submissive at breakfast?"
"Alec defied a direct order from my father and told me something my father tried to swear him to secrecy about."
"Interesting. It must be serious if Alec defied Alpha's orders."
"Yes. Now, I believe it is my turn to ask you a question. How did you get all your scars?"
I show him a small smile and then look down at my feet while we walk. "Not even going to build up to the big questions huh. Alright, fair enough. When I was younger and our parents still talked, I was kidnapped and tortured. I don't like to talk about it and so keep my scars hidden. When my family finally got me back, they were no longer on speaking terms with your father. I am still not sure how long I was there, but am sure it was several years."
Conner doesn't seem surprised by my answer, but does show remorse. "Do you remember it? What they did to you?"
"Strangely, yes and no. I remember the pain, but nothing else. Its almost like there is a wall that only lets through flashes of the past. There is a gap in my memory that I have no idea what happened."
By this point we had made several turns and were now in front of a large set of double doors. Conner seems almost disappointed that we have already reached our destination. Within a second it is gone replaced with a sad smile. "Shall we continue our questions inside?"
"Of course. It is my turn to ask one after all."
Conner pushes open the door and a room that is much more of a warehouse is filled with shelves upon shelves of books. "There must be millions of books here," I whisper in awe.
"There are 1,287,456,209 books in this library, give or take a few."
Conner follows me inside as I walk through the shelves. Conner suggests we pick up our questions after I am able to look around a bit. I nob in a numb and shocked silence. Conner walks to a table in the middle of this enormous library and picks up a book to begin reading. I am left to explore and brouse at my own leisure.
As I walk through the stacks, a chill sweeps across me and goosebumps begin to rise. I am drawn by a pull I can't ignore. I keep walking following the force through the library until I stand before an average bookshelf with only two shelves of books in its center. As I reach forward I feel the sudden urge to run away, to snatch my hand back and call for Conner. I am frozen as I watch myself reach out for a book bound in a strange leather that is a dark and withered grey color. The binding is hand stitched and old enough it seems to be coming apart. The writing on the spine is a black and red mixture that seems to have been writen by two different pens at the exact same time and in the same place.
As I touch it I am thrown into some kind of grey scale past. The vision seems familiar but I can't place where I have seen it before. A sudden realization causes me to fall to the ground. The panic begins to sink in as I an forced to remember an account of everything he did to me, what he made them do.