“I thought it was time to rectify that,” he adds, as if I haven’t already put that together.
I manage a nod. “That was on purpose. It doesn’t need to berectified.”
“Doesn’t it?” His tone is almost amused, “You see, I make it my business to get to know all the players on the chessboard, Isobel Ashthorne. Daughter of Lucian. The girl who came back from the dead just to interrupt the game that was already in progress.” There it is. The veiled threat. The reminder that I’m not supposed to be here. That he saw me as a piece in a game I haven’t agreed to play.
“I’m not a player, I’m not playing anything.” My fingers curl at my sides.
“No,” Gideon murmurs, stepping closer. “You’re not playing, you’re being played. You think you’re rewriting your destiny, don’t you? Making a place for yourself in this world. But the truth is... you’re filler. A variable. A placeholder in a larger story.”
He circles me once, his footsteps measured. Hunting. I hate how calm he is. How quiet his danger is. The kind of danger that doesn’t need to raise its voice to slit your throat.
I bristle. “What do you want?”
He makes a soft tsk noise. “So hostile. No wonder Jace is so...interested.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
He strolls past one armchair, pausing to flick an imaginary speck of lint from his sleeve.
“You’re quite the distraction, you know. My son is usually focused. Mindsharp. Uncompromising. Then—suddenly—he’s skipping meetings with me. Missing calls. Ignoring texts. Mourningfriends.”
He says the word like he can’t fathom it exists. My stomach flips.
“Lucian will chew you up and spit you out the second you stop being useful. My son will move on the second he remembers who he is. And the Guild? The Guild doesn’t care who bleeds as long as the power stays intact.”
I swallow roughly. “If you think I’m scared of you?—”
He laughs then. It’s an empty sound.
“Oh, darling,” he says, “you should be.”
He stops in front of me again, examining me like I’m a mouse in a lab. “I expected more from you in this setting,” he says finally, tilting his head in a way that Jace does when he’s analyzing something. “More polished. More edge. More… something. For all the drama surrounding your name, I thought Lucian’s spawn would be formidable or intimidating perhaps. What are you instead? Just a girl clinging to the men around her to stay afloat.”
“I don’t need anyone to save me.”
“Oh, that’s precious.” His tone is sarcastic.
I say nothing.
His smile returns. “See? That’s the problem. You think silence is strength. But in this world? Silence is submission.”
He steps back, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “Tell me, Isobel—do you believe you belong here?”
“Yes.” I lift my chin. Faking bravado I don’t necessarily feel in his presence.
“Conviction,” he says. “That’s good. You’ll need it.”
I don’t respond. Just stare him down, refusing to let him out of my sight.
“Well. This has been enlightening.” He walks to the door, his voice casual now. “I do hope you and Jace enjoy your little romance. While it lasts.”
He opens the door, pauses, and looks over his shoulder one last time. Danger glinting in his eyes. “But when it ends? And itwillend—don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Click.
And I’m left standing there, heart racing, like I’d just sparred with the devil and survived—barely.
My conversation with Gideon,if you can even call it that, left me feeling unsettled. Adding on to the knowledge that Daniel seems to have an idea of who’s important to me.
