Page 57 of Specter Bred

I opened my mouth, but she kept going.

"Actually, all of them watch you."

I laced another stitch and tied another knot, but Maeve’s focus wasn’t on the pain. She talked faster now, temper flaring hot.

"They watch how you treat people. Especially who you respect and who you don't."

"Archer—"

"Every nickname. Every public humiliation. Every time you single me out. Every time you treat me differently..."

She paused, reeling in her temper, evening out her voice and regaining her composure before she said something she would regret.

"The see it all and they take their cues from you, sir."

"Redwood would've hated you regardless of my opinion," I said as I tied off another stitch.

"Maybe," she reasoned. "But the rest of the class might have respected me by now if you at the very least treated me like every other recruit."

A short, humorless laugh burst from my lips.

"Men like Redwood will never respect you, Teacup."

"Exactly!"

That wasn't the response I expected.

Her eyes locked onto mine.

"Those are the men you consider worthy of Specter candidacy!"

"Meaning?" I asked with a frown.

"The men who walk into a room and demand attention."

I continued stitching.

"The men who think confidence and competence are the same thing."

Another stitch.

"The men who mistake intimidation for leadership."

I suddenly understood where she was going.

"The men whose dominance and aggression is always one fragile moment away from violence."

I looked up.

"The men who see a woman and immediately decide what she's capable of before she ever has the chance to prove them wrong," she said, lower than before, her voice wavering slightly.

The needle paused in my hand.

"Men like Redwood don't want evidence that contradicts their assumptions."

Her voice quivered slightly, but there was conviction behind her words.

"They don't want to be challenged. They want to be right."