“Casualties?”
“Luca Silvain got injured; he’s in medical now,” Derek says from behind me.
Another Guild elder leans forward. “And the mission compromise? Did anyone see your faces?”
“No.” I shake my head. “We stayed dark the whole way through.”
Lucian finally steps forward. “They succeeded,” he says, not as my father, but as Guild Master. “Despite a more complex route and heavier resistance than expected.”
“Impressive,” says a figure with a silver embroidered hood. “Perhaps the girl is more than just a legacy name.”
I can feel the backhand in that compliment. But I don’t rise to it. I just stand there, arms loose at my sides, blood on my sleeves, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest.
A new voice speaks. “You led?”
“I acted,” I reply. “We all did. It was teamwork.”
Lucian gives a slight nod. “Initiation task two: complete.”
The room murmurs in approval—low, like distant thunder.
Then the main doors open again. Jace, Tex, and Noah stride in, clothes torn, skin dusted with dirt and blood. Tex has a torn sleeve and a cut on histemple. His jaw works and he rolls his shoulders. Jace… his eyes meet mine once, sharp and searching, but he says nothing.
Lucian’s voice rings out again. “They fought beside her. As a unit. They passed not just the test but proved cooperation under fire.”
“They passed?” one of the masked councilmen says slowly.
“They did,” Lucian answers. “All of them.”
A slow ripple of nods followed. The Guild has seen us. And—for now—accepted us.
Lucian raises his hand and the room falls silent again, the weight of his presence immediate and absolute.
“This isn’t the end,” he says, his voice echoing through the stone chamber. “From this point forward, you all will rotate actively for Guild missions, you will remain under supervision by senior guild members.”
My pulse jumps.Active missions? That feels… fast.
“Hey! We are not seniors. We’re just experienced.” Max whines.
Lucian chuckles and continues, “You’ve passed your second initiation task, but the third is still ahead. Between now and then, you will be sent out regularly. Real assignments. Real consequences.”
Noah shifts beside me, eyes flicking up toward the council. Jace remains perfectly still, unreadable. Tex’s jaw twitches. None of them speak.
“The missions will not be ceremonial,” Lucian says, his gaze sweeping across the five of us. “You’ll be briefed only when assigned. You’ll work as a team, or you’ll fail. And failure is not tolerated.”
A pause.
“You want to wear the crest of the Guild?” His voice drops low. “Earn it.”
There is a final nod from the council. The torches hiss with a fresh burn. The chamber, heavy with tension moments ago, suddenly feels charged.
Lucian gives me one last glance—just for a second—and then turns away, his cloak swirling as he leaves the chamber.
The sterile lightsof the Guild infirmary waiting room buzz faintly overhead, a soft hum that only makes the silence between us heavier. I sit curled in one of the chairs, arms wrapped around my middle, eyes fixed on the scuffed floor tiles like they can offer answers.
Across from me, Tex leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight like he’s trying to keep himself from punching through the wall. He hasn’t spoken since we arrived. Jace stands by the far window, posture tense, his neck still stained with a splash of Luca’s blood. His fingers twitches at his sides, like he isn’t sure what to do with the rage coiling just beneath his skin.
Noah sits beside me, hood pulled up, earbuds in. Every now and then, he taps his foot or cracks his knuckles. Restlessness masked as calm.
