"Jasper, where are we?" I lower my voice, hoping he will trust me and share something useful. I need to escape this hellhole before they break me.
"My family's basement," he answers without hesitation.
"Your family's house?" I echo and he nods once.
"Do you live..." Pointing up, I shrug.
"I moved out a couple of years ago. Needed some space."
"Can't imagine why,” I say dryly.
"This used to be my room," he says, leaning against the cushions.
"You had a whole suite down here," I say, hoping he’ll keep talking and let something slip.
He shrugs. "My sister still lives here. Up there.”
I had no idea he had a younger sibling. "How old is she?"
"Ember is sixteen."
"What is she, evil like you?" I say with narrowed eyes.
He sighs. "Ember is a lot like my mom, unfortunately."
"Oh, no,” I breathe out.
His eyes are almond-shaped, decidedly unlike Sienna and Slate. I see the similarities, but there are more differences.
"You look like your dad," I say without thinking.
"So do you,” he replies.
"What?" My stomach flips. I inherited his tan skin, Greek nose, and wide-set eyes. But how does Jasper know that?
"I saw pictures. From when my mom was a teenager. Her, your dad, Clay, Heath, few other friends," he explains.
"Do you still have them?"
He shook his head. "Sorry, I saw them in my mom's things before I moved out."
"I wonder why she kept something like that," I muse.
Silence stretches between us again. Jasper looks apologetic. I don't care. He is still holding me hostage and I won't let him win me over like his mother wants.
But if he is truly a good person, maybe he can be persuaded to help me.
"What am I going to do?"
"Hazel." He turns towards me. "If you start acting like you like me, I can probably get you out of this basement."
"Like I can go home?" I ask.
"Sorry, no," he answers.
"What's stopping me?"
"About fifty wolves with anger problems," he says. "They wouldn't be gentle." His tone isn't teasing or even sad, it's resigned. Like he's already accepted this reality.