Drakon leaned back in his leather chair, laced his fingers together over his stomach, and regarded me thoughtfully. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, inspecting every micro-expression on my face before he spoke.
"Can I trust you, Kira?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Or are you going to try to leave? Try to kill my crew?"
I paused, fork hovering in mid-air, as my tactical training automatically kicked in. My mind raced, weighing my options, calculating the layout of the compound, and analyzing the sheer, undeniable reality of my situation. I was a trained operative, yet sitting here, bound to him by a dark, magnetic pull I couldn't seem to rationalize. I set the fork down slowly, leaning forward against the edge of the desk.
"Will you truly let me go when I'm finished?" I asked,
