18 WEEK ONE
Maeve
The Guild lounge is too quiet.
It’s always felt like a pocket universe—cut off from the rest of Blackmoore, all polished wood and heavy shadows, the hum of security tech disguised as antique charm. But tonight, the silence buzzes under my skin.
When Lucian first broke the news to me about the Thieves Guild. I thought Isobel had looped Lucian into some sort of prank. But when I heard about everything, I just felt it in my gut that she really did need me. The only other time I felt this way was Isobel’s birthday, and now tonight.
I lean against the edge of the table, arms folded, trying not to check the time again.
“They should’ve been back by now,” I say, not even bothering to mask the edge in my voice.
Kellan doesn’t look up from the chessboard he’s setting. “It’s the Guild, Maeve. They’re on a mission. Not students coming back from a ski lodge.”
Felix lounges sideways in one of the leather chairs, head tilted, playing with a coin between his fingers. “Maybe they stopped to grab food. We did have those mystery meat sandwiches for lunch.”
I give him a look. “You really think Isobel would stop for food?”
His smile dims just enough. “Okay, maybe not.”
Kellan moved a knight across the board with careful precision. “Worrying won’t make them walk through the door faster.”
“I’m not worried,” I say.
Felix arches a brow. “Says the girl who’s been pacing the rug bare.”
“I’m not pacing.”
“You are. For twenty-three minutes. I timed it.”
I glare at him, but it lacks heat. Because the truth is, I am worried.Obviously.
Something feels off. Wrong in the way the air goes still before a storm breaks. Isobel would’ve sent a message. Luca usually texts something ridiculous by now. Even Jace, for all his broody silence, isn’t this…absent. If anything he’d be the first to hear, he’s with Lucian, watching over controls.
“They're fine,” Felix says without looking up.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know they’ve done worse jobs than this. And I don’t know Isobel, but I know the guys, they’ve got it.”
I know Isobel. I watched her pick herself off the ground more times than I could count. And if anyone could crawl out of hell and still manage to throw a punch on the way up, it was my girl. Still. I didn’t like this.
Kellan sighs, looking at Felix. “I mean, what if they aren’t fine?”
Felix’s jaw ticks.
“What if something went wrong? What if?—?”
The door slams open. We all jump. But it isn’t them. Just one of the senior Guild members, eyes scanning past us. No announcements. No news. I feel my pulse echo in my ears.
Kellan finally stands up from the chessboard, arms crossed. “I’ll check the Guild comms.”
“I already did,” I mumble. “No updates.”
Lucian had shown me how to check them earlier in the night. But I didn’t want to just sit at the desk. The three of us sit in silence, the flickering firelight casting shadows across ourfaces.
The sound of boots echoes down the hall before the door opens. Lucian steps into the lounge. Felix straightens instantly, his usual grin vanishing. Kellan stops mid-move at the chess table, his expression unreadable but his shoulders tense.
