“He takes control. And the Guild becomes a weapon in the hands of a man who thinks honor is weakness.”
I let out a shaky breath, the weight of it crashing down. No wonder they want me broken.
“And Jace?” I whisper. “Does he believe that too?”
Lucian hesitates. “He was raised to. Trained to. But what he truly believes… only he knows.”
I don’t reply. I can’t. My mind is racing. Fire licking at the edges of my resolve. They tried to humiliate me. Now I know why. And it only makes me more certain.
“Then I’ll make damn sure they never get what they want,” I say, voice steady, low. “Not from me. Not from this Guild.”
Lucian just nods. Silent. Proud.
“Good,” he says. “Because they have no idea who they’re dealing with.”
20 ALL FOR ONE
The wind bites colder at the edge of one of the Guild’s warehouses, where an unmarked van and unmarked bikes wait, humming like living things. Black gear. Black masks. A wall of silence as we load up.
No stars above tonight. Just a moon like a blade’s edge.
I strap on my utility belt, fingers trembling only slightly as I adjust the fastenings on my gloves. Tex silently double-checks his weapons near the bikes. Jace stands near the exit, still as stone, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like he’s calculating how many of us are going to screw this up.
Noah passes me a discreet comm device, brushing my fingers briefly. “It’s encoded. I’ll be in your ear if anything goes to hell.”
“Nothing is going to hell,” Derek calls over us.
“I mean, you can give them hell.” Max laughs.
Preston rolls his eyes, tapping away on his own tablet.
Luca pulls his mask up over his face and says, “Try not to die, yeah? I’m still trying to decide if I like you.”
“Same,” I say, deadpan.
He chuckles and disappears into the van.
Max drapes an arm over my shoulder. “Definitely no dying. Your dad would throw me off a cliff if I let anything happen to you.”
I giggle and nod. “I’ll do my best.”
Max disappears behind the van.
Tex stops beside me just as I reach for the zip-up on my vest.
“You ready?” His voice is quiet. Less armor than usual.
“As I’ll ever be,” I say.
“Stick close to me.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know,” he says, not moving. “But if something goes wrong out there, I’d rather it be me.”
The words hang there between us, suspended like breath in cold air.
I give him a tight nod, heart thudding louder than it should.
