Chapter 14 Welcome
The days start to blur, the bruises don’t.
The new classes are harder than I thought possible. Strategy lectures that make my head spin. Guild ethics where every answer feels wrong. Combat drills that leave me gasping for breath, my muscles screaming before we even hit the halfway point.
And always… them.
They take turns picking me apart.
Jace never touches me during sparring, but his words cut like blades. “You’re not fast enough.” “Maybe you’d be better at playing victim again.” “You’re wasting space.” He never raises his voice. He doesn’t have to.
Luca teases with a grin and a voice like silk, but there’s venom behind it. “Nice stumble, sunshine. Want me to tattoo a target on your back so they know where to hit next time?”
Tex is worse in silence. He hits hard and holds back just enough to remind me he’s choosing not to break me. His eyes are haunted. And when I catch him staring too long at the scars on my arm, he looks away in disgust.
Noah barely speaks. When he does, it’s surgical, like he’s dissecting me. “Emotion makes you predictable.” “If they know where your weaknesses are, they’ll never stop exploiting them.”
They don’t let up. I don’t back down.
Every time I get knocked flat on the mat, I stand up. Every stare, every shove, every cutting remark—I swallow it like bitter medicine and keep going.
I train until my knuckles bleed. Run laps and simulations until I throw up. I learn. Adapt.
I’m not leaving until I earn my place here and every last one of them knows they picked the wrong girl to underestimate.
The school looks older at night. Colder. Shadows move differently. The hallways are dead silent when I creep out, dressed head to toe in black. My hair tied back in a sleek ponytail.
I follow the directions that were sent. Down a back stairwell. Behind a locked panel that opens with a thumbprint I don’t remember giving. The air changes. Damp stone. Hidden heat. The weight of something ancient presses against my ribs.
Two massive oak doors, carved with the Guild’s crest—a fox head and a blade—open easily as I push.
The chamber beyond is lit by fire. Torches flicker in sconces.
Candles burn on iron stands. A wide circular space stretches out like a coliseum, shadows rising into an unseen ceiling.
At the center, a black stone table. Around it, maybe twenty figures, all in black, masks obscuring most of their faces.
Except one.
Lucian.
He stands at the head of the table, tall and composed in a charcoal suit, no mask on, only power.
And to the side are rows of initiates that I’ve seen in my Guild classes, including the four boys.
They don’t wear their uniforms. Just black, plain and clean.
I walk and take my place next to Dakota.
Lucian raises his hands.
“Tonight,” his voice commanding, “we welcome a daughter of legacy. A name thought lost. A bloodline reclaimed.”
My chest tightens. I don’t want more spotlight on me.
“This is Isobel Grace Ashthorne,” he continues. “My daughter. The rightful heir to the Ashthorne seat.”
Some heads turn toward me. Others stay stone-still.
“She will begin her initiation this month,” Lucian says. “As all of you once did.”
He turns to me. “Step forward.”
I do. I press my hands to my thighs.
“Do you accept our code?”
I nod.
“Say it,” he prompts.
“Steal from anyone, never from the Guild. No killing—not unless the choice is death or the fall. And above all—honor above chaos. We do not burn the world to rule it. We slip through its cracks to own it quietly.”
“And our creed?”
“Honor amongst thieves, bound by blood.”
“Welcome to the shadows, Isobel.” Lucian smiles.
A small box is placed in front of me. Dark green velvet. Inside, a gold, intricate ring with a purple-red stone.
“The stone is an Alexandrite, to represent your birth stone. It changes colors in different light sources. The Guild mark is underneath the stone, embedded in the gold.”
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Every ring is designed for each initiate to wear for the rest of their Guild career. Wear it with pride. Or not at all,” he says.
I slide it on. The ring feels heavy on my finger. Not from the weight — it is featherlight, the gold shines. But from what it means. Legacy. Power. Expectation.
Lucian gives me a subtle nod, then gestures with two fingers. I step back in line. Dakota grabs my hand and squeezes it.
There is a space between the boys and me, but the space between us is electric with tension. The air around the boys always feels charged — like lightning could strike at any moment, and they’d enjoy the chaos.
One by one, initiates are called up and given their rings.
Then across the circle, a masked woman rises.
“Quarterly reports. Eastern Sector. Inventory discrepancies noted.”
A man steps forward, bowing his head slightly. “A rogue cell in Prague. Handled quietly.”
The words are vague but cold. Handled.
Another figure reports on political funding, another on surveillance updates. I catch phrases like ‘extraction team’, ‘coded ledger breach’, and ‘vault breach contained’.
My stomach flips. This isn’t just a secret society. It’s an empire. With rules, reach, and ruthlessness.
I listen and watch. Because if I’m going to survive this world — if I’m going to rule it — I have to know how it works.
The final reports end. One by one, members began to slip back into the shadows.
But Lucian doesn’t dismiss us. Instead, he steps to the center of the chamber, eyes sweeping across the circle, then landing on the six of us still standing near the table.
“The Guild thrives because we remember what it takes to earn your place,” he says. “Legacy may open the door, but blood, skill, and sacrifice are what keep you inside.”
He turns to us — to me — last.
“Now comes your first task.”
Lucian gestures, and a second Guild member — a tall man in a sweeping black coat, face covered by a sleek, hawk-like mask — steps forward, holding a small metal box.
One by one, we are called by last name.
“Ravencourt.”
Jace steps forward and takes his envelope without a word.
“Silvain.”
Luca’s mouth twitches. He bows and saunters back with his task in hand.
Lucian shakes his head.
“Ward.”
Tex steps forward stiffly.
“Vexley.”
Noah scans the envelope like he can see inside.
“Brennan.”
Dakota steps up and takes the envelope.
And then. “Ashthorne.”
My name echoes against the stone. It feels heavier than ever, because there’s meaning now. I step forward. The man holds the envelope out but doesn’t release it right away.
“Good luck,” he says, voice muffled behind his mask.
Lucian meets my eyes. I take it.
After we’re dismissed, after the torches are snuffed — I open the envelope alone in my room.
It holds only a dark green card with gold ink:
Infiltrate Sablehall Auction. Acquire the Sunrise Ruby, 25.59 carats, value-estimate: $30.42M. Deliver within 7 days. All tasks must be completed alone.
I exhale slowly and flip the card over.
There, in smaller writing, it reads:
We’ll know if you cheat. We’ll know if you fail.
Welcome to the Guild.