Page 130 of Black Wing and Shadows
I clung to him and pushed every thought toward his voice, his presence, his hand brushing mine under the table. My father slowed and faltered as he probed—redirected. He lingered longer with me, his jaw tightening, his expression flickering the same way it did with Zane. Then, finally, he lifted his hand.
Silence followed.
He gave no accusation or declaration of guilt.
He only flashed that sharp expression—a twitch of his mouth, a narrowing of his eyes—as if he brushed against something he couldn’t quite identify.
“Next,” he said.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I held, my hands shaking in my lap.
“We blocked it out, he didn’t see it...”
“We think we did,”Zane said, his own steadiness carrying a darker edge now.“But he knows we’re hiding something. That’s why he made that face.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse still thundering in my ears.
He hadn’t found the murderer, but he found enough.
When myfather circled back to the front of the room, silence felt thick enough to choke on. He folded his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable as stone.
“You all passed,” he said at last, his voice echoing across the chamber.
Every one let out a collective exhale, tension breaking in uneven gasps.
One of the brigadier generals from the Healer branch, I guessed, leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “You claimed you could take memories without detection. Yet everyone here felt it. Why?”
My father’s mouth twitched faintly without a smile. “I wanted you to know I was digging. All of you threw up shields—as I expected. That forced me to break through. When I pressed hard enough, people felt the intrusion. I meant for the discomfort to happen.”
Scullin grunted, leaning back in his chair. “Well, congratulations, General. You’ve put the fear of gods into all of us in one sitting.”
“That’s the point.” My father’s reply came flat, his gaze steady and cold.
Another general—Infantry branch, this time—snorted under his breath. “Gods, imagine what a hug from you feels like. No wonder your generals walk straighter than fence posts.”
A ripple of low laughter skittered around the table, sharp-edged and uneasy.
He didn’t twitch. “Which brings me to our next step. This leadership group will serve as a filter when the rest of the cadets return from winter break. They will not know it is happening. But I will touch each one of them—preferably when welcoming them back. A hand to the shoulder, a handshake, a hug. Enough contact to see what I need.” His pale eyes swept across us. “If there is rot, it will be cut out before it spreads.”
My stomach twisted. I flicked a glance at Alex and Lili across the table—both stiff, both pale, their gazes locked on my father as if they didn’t dare blink. They stared at a stranger, not someone who had been like their uncle for most of their lives. They knew what this meant, too. We all became his net, whether we wanted to or not.
“Before that,” he continued, his voice carrying an edge of finality, “I will speak with the first-year Riders in the courtyard. Briefly. I will be eliminating them before they leave. That will happen shortly.”
The air thinned, and every Rider cadet glanced at one another. My pulse hammered against my ribs.
My father straightened, his gaze sweeping the room. “Dismissed.”
Chairs scraped back in a rush as cadets and officers moved with speed toward the doors, none lingering.
“Except Cadet Blackcreek and Cadet Braegon,” he added, his voice like a blade through the din. His eyes fixed on us—Zane and me. “Stay behind.”
My stomach dropped. Lili shot me a knowing glance—the one I knew too well, when he dismissed her to scold me. The last chairs scraped back, the final cadets filed out, and the heavy doors thudded shut, sealing Zane and me inside with my father.
He leaned back in his chair, studying us in silence. Then, to my shock, his expression shifted slightly—softer.
“Congratulations,” he said, his voice low and steady. “On the bond. On the mate. I’m… glad you finally know, Auri. That you found him.”
Heat climbed my neck. My pulse jumped, my cheeks betraying me before I could compose myself.
