Lucian
I couldn’t believe it.
Mara had managed to get the bastard to talk. Just like that.
I turned toward Darian. He was smiling—not smug, just impressed. Maybe he hadn’t been trying to paint me as a monster after all. Maybe he knew Mara would be the one to break him.
I looked at her—and she winked. Calm, confident, completely in control.
She walked over to a chair and sat directly in front of the man, legs crossed, eyes sharp.
“Let his arms down,” she commanded, her voice steady with that unmistakable Gamma authority. The men looked to me.
I nodded. “Do as she says.”
They untied him, and the man collapsed to his knees, barely able to hold himself up.
“What’s your name?” Mara asked, her voice softer now—almost soothing.
“Benard… Benard Garfield,” he rasped.
“Get him some water,
