Sincerely, Marlena

4

Sincerely, Marlena.

The air was thick with tension, and despite the pain still coursing through my body, my mind was alert. Every conversation, every glance exchanged between the people in the fortress felt like a weight pressing down on me. It wasn't just about me anymore. They were trying to pull something from me, and I had to stay strong.

I thought of my brothers—Mylo, the youngest, always full of hope, and the older ones, hardened by the world we had grown up in. If they knew where I was, they would tear this place apart to get me out. That thought gave me strength. I just had to hold out long enough for a chance to escape.

The door creaked open, and I instinctively tensed, expecting the leader of the group, Lucien, or one of the others to press me for information again. But it wasn't him.

Nolan entered the room, his eyes flicking over me briefly before settling on the supplies on the table nearby. I didn't know much about him, only that he was sharp and observant in a way that made my skin crawl. He moved with quiet efficiency, checking medical equipment and jotting down notes without saying a word.

I watched him carefully, though I tried to appear uninterested. His silence unnerved me more than Lucien's questions. Lucien wanted answers—he wanted to know who I was and where I had come from. But Nolan? He seemed to already know something or was simply waiting for me to slip up.

"You're healing faster than expected," he finally said, his voice cool and matter-of-fact. "It won't be long before you're back on your feet."

I didn't respond. There was no point in trying to engage with him. He wasn't like Lucien, who seemed to want to understand me. Nolan just saw me as another piece of information he could use to manipulate the situation.

He turned to face me, leaning against the edge of the table. "You should know, they're still debating what to do with you. Lucien thinks you could be useful—once you decide to talk."

I met his gaze, refusing to let him see any fear. "I don't plan on talking."

A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. "We'll see."

I hated the way his eyes lingered on me, calculating and cold. I wasn't some puzzle piece he could solve. I was more than whatever they thought they'd captured in that raid.

Nolan finally left, and I was alone again. But not for long.

A few hours passed before Lucien appeared, his footsteps heavier than Nolan's, more deliberate. He wasn't as unreadable as Nolan—there was something else in his expression, something almost... conflicted. He closed the door behind him and sat down across from me, leaning forward with an air of reluctant patience.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice softer than I expected.

I looked away, refusing to give him anything.

"You're not making this easy," Lucien continued after a moment of silence. "I don't want to push you, but we both know you can't keep quiet forever. Eventually, the others will demand answers—answers I may not be able to protect you from."

Protect me? I nearly laughed at the absurdity. He wasn't protecting me. I was a prisoner, and no matter how gentle he tried to seem, I wasn't going to trust him.

"I'm not asking for much," he said, his voice low and almost pleading. "Just tell me where you're from. Who your people are. I don't need all the details, just enough to make sure we're not walking into something worse."

I clenched my jaw. "You think I'm stupid? I know exactly what you're doing."

Lucien leaned back, his dark eyes searching mine, but he didn't say anything for a moment. It was as if he was trying to figure me out, trying to get past the wall I'd built.

Finally, he sighed. "You're not stupid. You're a survivor. I get that. But you're also here, and whether you like it or not, we need to know who you are and why you were out there."

I stayed silent, keeping my eyes locked on the floor. My identity, where I came from, and who I was... none of that was their business. Not while I was stuck here, bleeding and broken in their care.

"I can't help you if you don't give me something to work with," Lucien said quietly, frustration creeping into his tone. "You don't have to trust me, but this can't go on forever."

"Help me?" I scoffed, turning to glare at him. "The last thing I need is your help."

Lucien's gaze hardened, the patience in his expression fading. "You've made it clear you're not going to cooperate. But that doesn't change the fact that we need answers. You're a liability to us right now, and liabilities don't last long out here."

I felt my pulse quicken, but I kept my face neutral. I wouldn't let him see that he was getting to me.

"I'm giving you time," he continued. "But not everyone here will be as patient. Remember that."

He stood up, casting one last glance in my direction before leaving. The door closed with a quiet thud, and I was left alone again.

My chest tightened, anger simmering just beneath the surface. This wasn't just about survival anymore. Lucien was right about one thing—time was running out. I had to find a way to escape, to get back to my brothers. But until then, I had no choice but to endure.

Whatever they wanted, they weren't getting it from me.