The drive from the Dravik estate to the heart of the city was far less peaceful for Amara than the morning's quiet breakfast had promised. She sat in the back of the armored limousine, the plush leather of the seat feeling more like a cage than a luxury.
Amara's mind was a storm of its own. Hansen. The name felt like a bruise. Darien's cryptic warnings from the night before were clawing at her thoughts, shredding the sense of safety she had felt while cooking with Feralia. What could he have found?
"Darien," she whispered as the car glided to a halt in front of the Ispire tower. "Just tell me now. Whatever it is, I can handle it. Is he in trouble? Did he get mixed up in something with this beastmen world? God, is he a beastmen?"
Darien finally looked at her. "It is better if you see the evidence as a whole, Amara. If I tell you pieces of it, you will think I am merely trying to isolate you. I want you to understand the reality of the person you've invited into your confidence."
