"That," Blake said, leaning back in his chair, "is the question, isn't it? The Gavel's granddaughter is taken, and he doesn't rain hell down on the fucking world?" He shook his head, expression thoughtful. “No, if he were even remotely aware that his precious granddaughter was missing, then he would be here in the thick of it.” Blake let out a short laugh. “I am actually surprised that you boys aren’t the ones missing after delivering the second punishment protocol a couple months back.” Ryder winced. I knew that it was still a sore subject for him; it was for us all, really. But Ryder lost something in those couple of weeks that I still didn’t think he had gotten back.
Logan sat back in his chair, his form deflated.
“Fuck,” he huffed. “This just got so much fucking worse.” He looked up at Blake. “If you didn’t take her, and her grandfather is the fucking Gavel, then who the fuck is crazy enough to go up against him?” Blake just grinned.
“I suggest the best way to find out is to ask the old man himself.”
The silence in Headmaster Williams's office was suffocating. Two days since our encounter with Blake, and the world had shifted on its axis once more. I sat rigidly in my chair, acutely aware of Ryder's barely contained energy to my right and Cole's steady presence to my left. Across from us, Headmaster Williams perched behind his desk like a man awaiting execution,his normally ruddy complexion ashen and damp with sweat. James Killingham stood by the window, impeccably dressed as always, his aristocratic features carefully composed. Blake leaned against the bookcase, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.
And then there was Bruce Turner.
Cade's grandfather didn't pace, shout, or make grand gestures. He didn't need to. He simply stood in the centre of the room, one hand gripping a polished wooden cane, and radiated a quiet, devastating fury that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Despite being in his seventies, Bruce Turner looked powerful, shoulders squared, spine straight, his weathered face set in hard lines. It was impossible to reconcile this man with the kindly grandfather Cade had talked about.
.
This was The Gavel. The enforcer. The bogeyman that haunted Trivium nightmares.
"I trusted you," he said to Killingham, his voice low and controlled but vibrating with rage. "I trusted you to keep her safe, James. I should have been told the moment she went missing. Not five fucking weeks later." Killingham's jaw tightened.
"We had the situation under control-"
"Under fucking control?" Bruce cut him off with a bark of laughter that held no humour. "My granddaughter is missing, possibly dead, and you call that 'under control'?" He slammed his cane against the floor with such force that Williams visibly flinched. "After all I did for your father back in '77, this is how you repay me? By keeping me in the dark when my own flesh and blood is in danger?" Something flashed across Killingham's face then, not just guilt or anger, but a deeper pain, almostfamilial in its intensity. He stepped away from the window, his composure cracking slightly.
"I've exhausted every resource I have to find her," Killingham said, his voice strained. "I never wanted her brought into this world, Bruce. You know that. I tried to keep her away from the Regents, from all of this."
“And yet you were the one who gave her the fucking scholarship to this blasted place in the first place,” Bruce snipped, and Killingham flinched.
“I was just trying to…” he trailed off before turning to look out the window. I frowned, sensing undercurrents I didn't fully understand. The way they spoke to each other was too intimate, too loaded with history. This wasn't just about Cadence's disappearance. There was something else, something personal between them.
"P-perhaps we should all take a moment to-" Williams began, his voice quavering.
"Shut up," Bruce snapped without even looking at him. "You're lucky I don't gut you where you sit for your part in all of this." Williams shrank back in his chair, visibly trembling. Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel a dark satisfaction at seeing him reduced to this state, the man who had presided over Cadence's punishment now cowering like a scolded child. It was less than he deserved.
Bruce turned his attention to the three of us, his eyes cold as they swept over our faces, lingering on the bruises that still marked mine from my bar fight.
"And you three," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You were supposed to protect her. You were her fucking Regents. Instead, you tortured her, humiliated her, and then fucking lost her." Each word landed like a physical blow. The memories flooded back, Cadence tied to that post in thewoods, the crack of the whip against her skin, her screams as we branded her with the Covenant sigil. My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain was welcome. It was nothing compared to what she'd endured.
"You followed the First Protocol, then the Second," Bruce continued, disgust dripping from every syllable. "You should count yourselves lucky I haven't killed you where you stand."
"No one would blame you," I said quietly, meeting his gaze. I wanted him to see that I accepted every ounce of his condemnation. That I carried the weight of what we'd done to Cadence every waking moment, and into my nightmares. "We failed her. I failed her." Bruce's eyes narrowed, assessing me with cold calculation. Before he could respond, Ryder lurched to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the hardwood floor. The past weeks had hollowed him out, leaving him gaunt and wild-eyed, perpetually on the edge of collapse. But there was a terrible clarity in his gaze as he stared directly at Bruce.
"If we had any other choice," Ryder said, his voice trembling with intensity, "I would never have hurt her. Never." He took a step forward, hands outstretched, palms up, a gesture of surrender. "I love her. More than my own fucking life. And I will lay down that life to get her back safely." His voice dropped to something darker, more primal. "And then I will burn the world to the ground to make sure that everyone who has hurt her suffers before I slit their throats and dance in their blood."
A heavy silence followed his declaration. Cole shifted uncomfortably beside me, but I remained still, recognising the raw truth in Ryder's words. He meant every syllable. Something flickered across Bruce's weathered face, not quite approval, but a grudging recognition.
"Does that include yourself?" Bruce asked, his voice dangerously soft. "Because the way I see it, you three have hurt my granddaughter as much as anyone. Would you hold yourself accountable for that pain?"
"Without a fucking doubt," Ryder answered immediately, his conviction absolute. "When this is over, when she's safe, I'll face whatever justice she or you demand. My life for hers. That's the deal I'm offering." Bruce held Ryder's gaze for a long moment, taking his measure. I watched the interplay, my chest tight with a mixture of pride and sorrow. Ryder was spiralling, had been since Cadence disappeared, but there was something brutally honest in his desperation that even The Gavel seemed to recognise.
"Touching as this display is," Blake interjected smoothly from his position against the bookcase, "I'm more interested in how you could have not known your granddaughter was missing, Bruce. Especially given your... particular set of skills." Bruce turned to face Blake, his expression hardening.
"Cade has been keeping us at a distance since she came to university. Elena and I assumed she was trying to spare our feelings while she searched for her mother." His mouth twisted in distaste. "We've been receiving texts from her, speaking through messages. I had no reason to suspect anything was wrong." Ryder's head snapped up, a new alertness in his posture. "Texts? Recently?"
"The last one was three days ago," Bruce confirmed. "Saying Merry Christmas and that she was having fun with her friend Luce, saying she was sorry she couldn’t come home, but she had too much coursework."
"May I see them?" Ryder asked, his voice tight with sudden intensity. Bruce regarded him warily, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it andhanded it to Ryder, who began scrolling through the messages with feverish concentration. I watched his face, noting how his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched; he'd found something.
"You're saying you had no idea Cadence was looking into her mother's whereabouts?" Killingham asked, drawing Bruce's attention back to him.
