Ronan tosses his head back with a sigh, as if he too is already exhausted by the conversation, though he knows Declan has every right to wonder. To worry. In fact, everything Declan ever cautioned him about had come true, which makes Ronan the loser of every argument they've ever had.

He hates it.

"Look, before you piss yourself, I'm not dead. Alright? We got away." Ronan throws his arms in the air and stomps a half-circle around the counter before wheeling back and gesturing widely. "Those dreamkilling fucks were there when we woke up. I don't know how the hell they found us, but there were at least sixty of them. Armed like a goddamn SWAT team. Surrounding us. We couldn't even move and they were gonna shoot us anyway."