Mara
Austin finally arrived with my sandwich and orange juice. I gave him a quick nod of thanks, and he left without a word—just as instructed. Only he touched my food.
As I took a bite and sipped the juice, I could feel the weight of the room pressing back in. Time to get back to it.
I swallowed and fixed my eyes on Lacy, whose tears had long dried. Her eyes were empty now. Hollow.
“What did your father tell you about Luna Natasha?” I asked, calmly, but deliberately.
I knew Lucian and Alpha Vander were waiting on this answer more than any other. There was a crack in the foundation—something had been left out of the family history, and we were circling it now.
Lacy blinked slowly, then spoke, her voice dull.
“Ini—initially,” she corrected herself, “he said he used to go by Tom Alari
