Large hands snaked out faster than should’ve been possible, closing around mine and keeping me from cracking my head open on the tile. The moment his skin touched mine, I was assailed with images. The first was a young boy sitting alone in a treehouse. I could feel his sadness, the deep ache in his chest and longing for someone. Then it was replaced with an entirely different image. It was an older guy, maybe eighteen or so, with white-blonde hair and gray eyes that turned silver as he gazed down at a girl. At me.
Declan—white blond hair, gray eyes that turn silver, same height as Ronan, broad shoulders, muscled, a hulking mountain, husky rough voice with layer of tenderness, in English Lit with her, family drama/Ronan’s twin
