Lucian continues. “Trust is currency in our world. Without it, we are nothing but rabid dogs with knives.”
He surveys us all. “So. You want to play the game? Fine. Play together.”
A shuffle, murmurs between the elders.
“Ravencourt, Ward, Silvain, Vexley.”
“Sir,” they answer in unison.
“Recite our creed.”
“Honor amongst thieves, bound by blood.”
Lucian nods.
“Your second initiation will be completed as a team. You rise as one… or you fall as one.”
I glance sideways — Jace’s jaw ticks. Tex dares to look at me.
I don’t give him anything.
Lucian’s voice cuts again. “You’ve all passed your first tasks, but the Guild does not function on solo acts. Trust—whether earned or forced—is nonnegotiable.”
His gaze sweeps across each of us. Jace. Luca. Tex. Noah. And finally, me.
“Your second initiation will be completed as a unit.”
Jace shifts beside me, jaw tight.
“You will infiltrate a secured convoy transporting black market weapon prototype—originally stolen from the Guild. These people are highly dangerous. Lethal. And the buyer is a known Guild traitor. You are to infiltrate, retrieve, and return the cargo.”
My throattightens.
“If one of you fails,” Lucian says evenly, “you all fail. And failure…means removal from the Guild track. Permanently.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
“The route is protected. Armed. And mobile. You’ll have to strike fast, in coordination, and adapt in real time. You leave tomorrow at nightfall. You will be supervised, and if you so need it, they will step in and help you. But you are all driving this mission. Act as if they aren’t there.”
No further questions are allowed. Barely time to breathe. The boys begin to filter out.
Jace is the last to go, tossing one last sharp glance over his shoulder as if expecting me to follow. I don’t.
Lucian doesn’t look at me right away. He waits until the heavy iron doors seal with a deep groan, until the hush of the chamber settles like dust in the air.
Then he speaks. “Gracie.”
His voice is softer now, no longer the Guild master addressing his initiates, but a father speaking to his daughter. I turn to face him but I don’t approach. My shoulders are tight, my arms crossed to hold myself together.
He steps down from the dais slowly, revealing the weary lines around his eyes. He looks furious. And regretful.
“I should have stopped this before it got this far.”
I don’t respond. I’m too tired. Too raw.
Lucian sighs, rubbing a hand down his jaw. “I’ve let you walk into fire expecting you to endure it… and you have. But what they did… those photos…”
His jaw flexes, barely contained anger beneath his calm.
