43. CHAPTER 43
Second Lieutenants kept first-years in the courtyard.
Flight Guides, Wing Commanders, Executive Officers, and Platoon Leaders were led to the administrator's building.
My chest tightened when they told us to report to the large conference room, where important decisions were made and punishments were enforced.
The space was stark and cold, with a U-shaped table dominating the center, wrapping around like an arena. At the far end, a wide table stood alone, accompanied by two enormous chairs carved from dark oak. We filled the open seats, and some stood along the walls.
At the head sat General Blackcreek—my father—and beside him Major General Kamban, their uniforms immaculate, their expressions carved from stone. The air thickened just seeing them there, command radiating like a pressure you couldn’t escape.
Brigadier General Scullin, the male who oversaw the Rider branch, leaned forward in his chair, sharp eyes cutting across the room as though daring anyone to meet them.
He wasn’t alone—other brigadier generals lined the table, representing the branches I didn’t know well enough to name.
Infantry, Healers, Historians, Shapeshifters, Sorcerers, and Drusearon—faces I’d only seen from a distance, all gathered under one roof.
Professor Melamora stood near the left side of the table, dark purple robes contrasting against the pale stone wall, her presence cold as iron. Professor Pascal sat closer to the right, his hands folded on the table, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his eyes sharp .
The weight of them all, gathered here at once, pressed heavily on my chest. This wasn’t a lecture. This wasn’t another curfew, another list of restrictions. This was a council.
The hush that fell over the room when my father stood was absolute. Every scrape of boot leather, every cough, every nervous shuffle stopped. His presence alone pressed like a weight on my chest. My father didn’t need to raise his voice to command silence—he carried it in his blood.
“We are past the point of whispers and speculation,” he said, his tone sharp enough to cut. “Six cadets murdered. Three strung up in public as if this campus were a stage. If this continues, the campus itself will collapse from within.”
My stomach twisted. He spoke as if we were nothing but numbers on a ledger, assets to be lost.
Major General Kamban leaned forward. “The question is whether we’re facing an outside infiltrator… or a predator among the cadets themselves.”
“Among them,” Brigadier General Scullin snapped, his voice like gravel. “Who else could move so freely? Who else could silence six cadets without being noticed?” His sharp gaze swept the room, lingering on the Rider leaders.
Professor Melamora adjusted her cuffs, speaking in a cool tone. “If it is a cadet, they are highly skilled. That alone should give us pause. These murders are not random. They are calculated.”
Pascal’s reply was softer, but no less firm. “Fear is spreading faster than we can contain it. Sending the cadets home will slow the panic. But it will not stop the killings.”
My father raised a hand, and the room fell silent again. His pale eyes cut across us, merciless. “Speculation wastes time. We need the truth.”
I stiffened in my chair.
“My gift,” he continued, his voice level but cold, “is classified.” He let the word linger, heavy.
“And today you will learn it and keep it classified. I can see what others have seen. Hear what they have heard. If necessary, feel what they have felt. I will use it. Every cadet who remains on this campus will be subject to interrogation. ”
A ripple of unease shuddered through the room, low gasps and muffled protests.
Zane went rigid at my side, his jaw tight. I kept my face blank, though my pulse hammered so hard I thought it might split me open. Alex and Lili both shot each other a look, then looked at me at the same time.
I was the only cadet present who wasn’t in shock.
I knew my father could read memories. He would interrogate me as a teen, way too often.
Honestly, probably for good reason, I was a little unhinged.
If contact had been made, he would see everything since I’ve been here. A hard swallow was forced down.
Fuck.
He would learn about Zane and my bond, and he would be aware of the letters my mom wrote to me. He would learn that Zane’s dad was part of a mutiny… Fuck.
My father’s gaze swept the room once more, daring any of us to challenge him. “I will find the truth. One way or another.”
I clenched my fists in my lap, my nails biting crescent moons into my palms. Because for the first time, I realized the murderer might not be the only threat waiting for me on this campus.
The silence didn’t hold long.
One of the Brigadier Generals stood, his voice taut with anger. “With respect, General, memory reading is a violation. We’re not criminals to be dragged through like archives.”
“Sit down,” Scullin snapped, his chair screeching as he half-rose. “Six cadets are dead. We don’t have the luxury of privacy.”
Murmurs broke like sparks across the room, cadets shifting uncomfortably, others bristling with fury. A few brigadier generals glanced at one another, uneasy.
“Quiet!” My dad said in a voice that shook me to my core. “According to MCOE 1.5.1, any interrogation methods may be used with cadets or officers when a threat is present, at the discretion of the General. As a reminder, I am the fucking general ! ”
I hadn’t seen him this angry or riled since someone attacked me. My heart pounded so hard I thought it skipped beats.
“Zane,” I pushed through the bond, my pulse loud in my ears. “He can’t do this. Not to me. If he touches me—”
“Breathe,” Zane cut in, his voice was low and firm, steady as iron. “Don’t let him see fear. That’s what he looks for. That’s what he presses into.”
“You don’t understand," I shot back, my nails bit harder into my palms. “He’s done it before, when I was younger. He’s gonna know about us. About my mother’s letters. About your father—”
“Stop.” His word struck through the bond like a blade, but his presence stayed steady, wrapping around the panic clawing at my chest. “If he finds out about us, it’s okay.
He may already know, because he is bonded to one of the most powerful dragons, who is the mother of your dragon.
As for my dad, we need to get rid of that thought before he starts touching.
Build the biggest wall you have. And if he tries to harm you…
Well, it will be the last thing he does. ”
I risked the smallest glance at him. His jaw was still tight, but his eyes—dark, unyielding—burned with promise.
The silence after my father’s outburst was suffocating, the words I am the fucking general still echoing off the stone walls like a lash. The brigadier generals shifted uneasily, exchanging sharp glances.
Major General Kamban cleared his throat, his voice calm and measured. “With respect, General Blackcreek, the regulation does not dismiss the consequences. Memory reading is invasive. If you push too far, you risk breaking the minds you intend to protect.”
Scullin snorted, slamming a fist against the table. “Six cadets were already broken—in blood. I’d rather lose a little trust than lose more bodies strung up by dawn.”
Professor Pascal leaned forward, his tone quiet but cutting. “And when cadets realize their thoughts are no longer their own, that their memories were weapons for leadership to plunder—what then? Fear will no longer come from a murderer in the shadows. It will come from us.”
A ripple of agreement moved through the room, low and nervous.
“Fear already comes from us,” my father snapped, his gaze cold and merciless. “That is the point. Order comes from fear. Without it, we have chaos. And chaos is where killers thrive.”
“Zane,” I whispered through the bond, fighting to keep my expression still, “he’ll tear me apart if he looks too closely. I can’t bury everything. Not the bond. Not your father. Not—”
“Stop spiraling.” Zane’s voice pressed hard into me, steady and fierce. “Build the wall. Stone by stone. Let me anchor it if you can’t. I’ll keep you steady.”
“What if he sees you, too?”
“Then let him.” His reply was sharp as a blade, his bond wrapping around mine with iron certainty. “ If he touches you, he won’t get what he expects. I’ll be there, pressing back. He won’t take anything I don’t allow. I'll push out the memories of you sucking my cock—”
I choked out loud, and everyone shifted their eyes to me. My cheeks turned seven shades of red. “Fuck Zane!”
“Sorry.” I dropped my gaze to the table. There wasn't an excuse to throw out that came to my mind.
At the head table, Melamora finally broke her silence, her voice smooth as silk over steel.
“Then perhaps, General, we can compromise. Limit the interrogations to cadet leadership alone. If there is rot, it will be most evident in those closest to the command. Spare the first-years until necessity demands otherwise.”
My father stared at me. I felt like he could see right through me.
He straightened himself and looked around the room.
“First off, this isn’t a negotiation, not a compromise.
Every cadet in this room is in leadership, which is why I ordered this meeting.
Furthermore, no one will know that I have used my gift on them, because I am that good.
I am informing you all. These cadets and anyone who didn’t know just got briefed on classified information.
I am reminding you that MCOE 1.1.3 states that any member of the military who shares classified information with anyone who does not have the clearance will be punished by death. This is your warning, in that regard. ”
Professor Pascal cleared his throat, as if he were almost afraid. “Clearly, we will not be talking you out of this. How do you want to proceed with this little mind violation?”