Chapter Fifteen #2
“Then you understand what it means when I say the Citadel doesn’t make empty threats.
” Talen leans in, just enough to steal the air between them.
“This institution has protected your trade, your family, for generations. You don’t get to spit on it and cry injustice.
” A pause. No smile, just steel. “This is your only warning. Next time, I’ll drop you at the dragons myself and I’ll sleep just fine. ”
The merchant backs down fast, still nodding, still pale.
God, he means every word. Not because he’s trying to scare the merchant, not because it makes him feel powerful. Because he believes it.
He’s the perfect officer, efficient, composed, dangerously loyal.
The kind they shape from the inside out, until there’s nothing left but duty.
And I don’t think he even sees it. He thinks he's making things better, keeping order, serving something greater. But all I see is control dressed up as salvation. He doesn’t question the system; he is the system.
Strannt’s voice cuts across the square, loud, obnoxious and impossible to ignore. We all turn, instinctive, eyes snapping to where he’s pacing near an alley entrance, yelling something towards us that no one’s bothering to answer.
But out of the corner of my eye, I catch it. A flicker of movement, quick and practised.
Something small, folded, slides into the merchant’s hand from Talen’s. An envelope? The merchant blinks, startled, then his mouth moves, just a whisper of sound, too soft to catch, but for a second, I could’ve sworn he said thank you...
“I said, are we fucking going or what?” Strannt’s voice slams through the moment as he storms back in, scowling. I snap toward him, glare already rising, but by the time I turn back Talen and the merchant have stepped apart.
Whatever I thought I saw, it’s gone. Talen’s already rolling his eyes, leaning toward Lucien, muttering something low.
Lucien nods, then turns to the rest of us. “Right, cadets. Change of plans,” he orders. “Rowan and Elijah, with Strannt. Beth, Lyra, and Ryven—with Talen and me.”
My gut drops. What the actual fuck. My day just went from maybe bad to catastrophic in under a second. Rowan and Elijah were the only ones I was reasonably sure didn’t want to kill me. Now I’m stuck with Beth, Ryven and Talen—
“Let's go.” Lucien’s voice cuts in before the thought can finish unravelling.
Boots echoing against the stone as Lucien leads us out of the square. Talen lingers at the back, behind me, eyes practically burning a hole through my uniform. We take a small side street off from the main stretch and walk down a few paces before he stops and calls out—
“Go ahead Luc, I’ve got some things to finish up... but keep an eye on this prickly one.”
I don’t bother turning, don’t rise to it. The patrol’s nearly over and if I can just keep my head down, avoid Beth and Ryven’s stares and make it back to the dorm without another problem, I’ll call it a win.
Ahead of me, Lucien nods, then jerks his chin, motioning for Beth to take the rear before continuing down the alley. Behind me, Talen slips off without a word, vanishing into a storefront.
I recognise it immediately.
Same pink silk dress, scattered with tiny silver stars, same red door, same strange mark scratched just above the handle still there from last week. The tailor shop.
Through the glass, past the silk and shimmer, I catch a glimpse of Talen speaking to someone at the counter.
Familiar, relaxed, like they know each other.
Then Talen leans in and passes something across the counter, another envelope.
The man takes it without hesitation. I don’t know what’s in there, but by the look on his face it must be buying something. ..
I don’t even realise I’m staring. Not at first. Not until the envelope's gone and the man behind the counter is already turning. Then I look up—
And his eyes are on me. Talen. Not surprised, not curious. Just waiting.
Shit. A tight hitch runs through my chest, and I go to look away, pretend I didn’t see anything—
Someone slams into my side.
Hard.
Shouting. Fast, too close. My pack hits the ground with a heavy thud as the merchant from the square blurs past, all elbows and panic. A heartbeat later, Strannt barrels through after him.
“Grab him!” he yells as he tears by.
Lucien whips around and takes off after them without hesitation. I turn back to the tailor store but Talen’s gone.
I stay frozen for a second, then I blink, crouching down to grab my pack. But when I look up Beth and Ryven are already standing over me. A tremor runs through me.
Fuck.
Alone in the Innerlands, in a narrow alley and these two look hungry.
Beth shifts toward me, eyes bright, cruel. Curious. Like she wants to see what I'll do. I scan for exits, fast.
“You know.” Ryven says, rolling the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other with lazy precision. “I still can’t decide if what you did in our Demonstrations was skill, or if it was just luck. My bet?” A cold smile. “You’re a mess. One that’s just waiting to blow...”
My mouth goes dry. Because, fuck, he’s not wrong. I don’t know how I did it, and I definitely don’t know if I could do it again. I am a mess. And if it wasn't for this fucking duck, I would have probably exploded five times today already.
But I’ll be damned if he gets to see that. So I force a breath, hold his gaze and keep my voice steady. “Mess or not, you’re still the one who hit the floor.”
His jaw twitches, just once, but I see it. Beth too, that pointed smile of hers flashes, but not at me—at him. He blinks, tries to shrug it off like it’s nothing.
“You know that girl you nearly crushed?” he adds, voice tighter now. “She happens to be Elijah’s sister. How does that even happen? You must be really fucked up inside.” He leans in slightly, quieter now, meaner. “Then again... I’ve heard madness runs in those inbred Outerlander bloodlines.”
Fury sparks fast. Fists curl before I can stop them, the urge to lash out rising hard. Normally, my Threads would be biting by now, wild and ready to burn through skin, but they hold, just, thanks to the duck top-up earlier.
Jaw tight, I shift, ready to throw something verbal back—
But Beth gets there first. And that look she’s been throwing at me all day? It lands on him now.
“Careful, Ryven.” Her scar flashes as she turns to face him. “You’re sweating so hard I’d almost think you were scared of Lyra. And as for inbreeding?” She mocks. “We all know your dirty Fire Realm parents are cousins.”
“Second cousins,” he snaps, face red. “And one of them was adopted!”
Laughter spills from her lips; Ryven stiffens but Beth doesn’t slow.
She’s not defending me, she’s just enjoying this. Messing with Ryven, watching his jaw tighten, throat twitch. And I shouldn’t smile, I don’t mean to, but the corner of my mouth lifts anyway.
Whatever she says next hits harder than before, edged enough to drag a flush up his neck. They keep going. Snapping, spitting, closing the gap like they’ve both been waiting for an excuse to blow.
But I’ve stopped listening; doesn’t matter what they’re saying. They’re too locked in to notice anything else. So I look around.
It’s just us.
Outside the Citadel. No officers.
And for the first time in days—
I could run.
Ryven’s blocking the alley, but the square’s still open... Left, left, right, straight ahead, over the wall, and I’m home before sunset. Back to Bren.
But, shit, I don’t know how fast they are. If I bolt and they catch me—or worse, if Talen does—then what? Merrin’s deal goes up in smoke, journals gone, answers gone. I’ll be carted out to Dragon country before dinner.
But not running? If I don’t even try? What does that say about me...
Wood cracks as Ryven stumbles back, Beth’s shoving him hard enough to rattle the door behind him.
Fuck it, no time. Future Lyra can deal with the fallout, so I pivot hard and run, fast.
Lungs burning, I keep going, down the alley to the square, each step slamming through my legs like my body’s punishing me for deciding too late.
Footsteps slam behind me, closing in fast. A shout, maybe two. But I don’t look back, I don’t even blink. I just have to get across the square, past the stalls, cut left and vanish into the alleys, before they catch me, or worse, before Talen does.
But I can lose them, ten minutes to the wall, twenty and I’m home to Bren.
I push hard, a brutal rhythm crashing through me. I’m close now. So close I almost believe it, one more step and I’m clear.
Light slams into me—full force, no warning—burning across my vision as I break from the dark alley into the sunlit square. Too fast, too bright.
I’m running blind, legs still driving, vision blown open. I don’t see the apple, just feel it, round and solid, sliding under my boot, twisting my ankle sideways. Pain rips through the joint as the ground smashes up to meet me, shoulder-first.
Beth’s there before I can blink, towering over me.
Fuck, she’s fast.
Ryven slower, lingering behind, breathless at the alley mouth, but a slow smirk bleeds across his face like he’s already won.
Shit, shit, shit.
I try to move, push off the ground, ankle screaming, then the air shifts.
Pressure slams through the square, hot and heavy, laced with smoke and something else. A second later, something hits the ground behind me, vibrations kicking through the stone, through my palms, up my spine.
Beth freezes.
Ryven stares—smirk still stuck like his brain hasn’t caught up yet. Then his face drains, pale and stiff, hands lifting like it’ll help and he bolts—full sprint, gone down the alley.
Behind me, someone screams, voice high and cracked, all panic.
“D-D-D... DRAGON!!”