Even Neeve goes still at the front, her encouraging smile falters, and my stomach drops.
Shit. I told her I was from the Air Realm. It wasn’t a lie. I was born there. But I never told her the rest?—
“She’s an Outerlander?!”
The bark snaps my head toward the back of the tent, where a male recruit with an eyepatch makes no effort to hide the disgust twisting his face.
“We were told we were getting a Citadel officer. A rider. Not…this.”
A sharp sting radiates through my palms as my nails bite in hard enough to break skin, and suddenly I remember why I hated Innerlanders so much.
They’re so goddamn entitled.
Magic twitches at my fingers, but I grit my teeth and force down the barbed reply already sitting on the tip of my tonguebecause I’m here to learn to lead. To earn respect,notto make enemies.
“I understand your concern,” Magda keeps her tone calm and composed. “But this is not up for discussion. While as Innerlanders you have all learnt to listen to your Threads,noneof you have been to the Citadel andnoneof you have had the training Lyra has received. Yes she is from the Outlanders, but Merrin assures me she is one of the best cadets they have seen in generations.”
Beside me, Magda smiles, her silver tooth catching the morning light as she gestures me forward like she’s not casually throwing me to a pack of pissed-off lions.
“I don’t agree with how Merrin handled this,” she murmurs, her voice dropping low enough that it doesn’t carry. “And I’m sorry he put you in this position, but I do think this will be good for you.”
“Thanks,” I manage, as a nervous tick starts pulsing behind my temple and every part of me thinks about running.
But if I’m too scared to stand in front of a room of recruits, I have no bloody chance of facing Serrane. So I suck it up and step to the front, Magda’s footsteps disappearing outside the tent behind me.
“Right, listen up.” I push my voice out and lift my chin. “Today, we start with the fundamentals of Thread Theory.”
At first, no one reacts. Then, one by one, benches start to creak in front of me as bodies lean toward each other, low voices slipping between them. It spreads—small at first, then catching—heads turning, attention sliding sideways, until the only two faces still on me are Neeve and Ezzy, both seated at the front.
“Thread Theory,” I go on, determined to earn their respect, “is the foundation for everything.”
“Andtheoryis what’s meant to stop Serrane from killing us?” The male recruit with the eye patch scoffs from the back, foldinghis arms as he glances around, pulling a few nods from the others with him.
“Yes.” I bite out, forcing my arms steady at my side. “If you can’t control your Threads, Serrane won’t have to kill you—you’ll do it for him. This isn’t the Citadel, I'm not going to have you fight each other until only the strongest survives. Theory is what you need first.”
“Lee’s right.” A female with short black hair joins in, turning toward him instead of me. “Thisispointless.”
This time the agreement lands louder, and I feel it, control slipping further out of reach.
“Look,” I try to rein it in, keeping my voice steady. “If you want to survive, youneedto understand this.”
“We don’t need a lecture.” Lee pushes to his feet. “We need someone who’s actually led. Darren is an officer, a rider. What exactly have you done,Scraplander?”
The question hits like an arrow through my chest, spiking my heart rate, because what exactly have I done? Nothing except get a bunch of people hurt, killed. Still, I drag in a breath that doesn’t quite fill my lungs and lock my focus on Lee, who is still standing.
“Sit down.” I demand, holding his stare and willing it to land.
Lee cocks his head. “Or else what?”
Magic sparks at my fingertips, my Threads waiting just beneath the surface, and I feel how easy, how satisfying, it would be to let them out right here. To blast the smirk off Lee’s face. But if I do, they won’t respect me. They won’t follow me. They’ll only hate me more.
Still, if I back down now, they’ll think I’m weak.
Ahria will think I’m weak?—
“Screw this.” Lee decides for me, already moving. “I’m out of here.”
“Lee!” I command after him, my voice sharper than I feel, but it’s too late. He’s already halfway to the exit, and everything unravels fast after that.
