Jonathan's P.O.V

"I don't like this at all, Jonathan," Sterling whispered, his dark eyes haunted by wildness; as he paced the chambers we had been assigned, he resembled a caged beast.

"We don't have to like it," I said at last. "But we do need to accept it. Even we cannot deny what is right in front of our eyes, no?"

And what I had seen had been crazy, impossible, even. But then again, I had witnessed a toddler transform into a tween. What exactly counted as impossible anymore?

"Nothing is making sense." Pivoting on his heels, those wild eyes transfixed on me, holding me prisoner until he blinked, releasing...