“If that’s their opening, what’s next?” Ridoc asks. His cheek is split wide open.

“They’ll try to turn us against one another,” Rhiannon answers. “We don’t break. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” We all say it.

The worst part isn’t the pain or the swollen eye. It’s the hours of waiting, the not knowing when they’re going to come back and dish out worse. And then worse comes and leaves us all with more bruises in various places.

I’m pretty sure that last blow left Sawyer concussed.

Without windows, it’s impossible to know how much longer we have to hold out for when we don’t know what time it—

“What time is it?” I ask Xaden, lifting my shields just enough to communicate.

“Almost midnight,” he answers. “Are you—”

“Don’t finish that question. You know what happens down here.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“It’s almost midnight,” I tell the others quietly. “We still have all night to go.”

“Is Tairn listening for the bells?” Sawyer asks, turning his face against his shackled arm to clear some of the blood off.

“Not exact—”

The door opens and the man walks in carrying a pewter mug. “Who’s thirsty?” He drops down in front of Sawyer, blocking my view of his face. “It’s right here. And you don’t even have to give me your secret. You just have to tell me one of their personal ones.” He motions down the line. “It doesn’t count as breaking. It’s just a personal detail that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Fuck you.”

“Pity.” The man tilts his head. “You’re just not thirsty enough yet. Don’t worry. You’ll get there.” He moves to Rhiannon, then Ridoc, then me. Our answers are all the same.

“Tight-knit group, aren’t they?” Chills race down my spine as Varrish walks in, eyeing us all with unfettered joy.

“They are, sir,” the man says.

Varrish rubs his thumb across his chin. “Doesn’t someone usually give up a personal detail by now?”

“They do, sir.”

Pride flares behind my ribs.

Varrish leans down and flicks the green Iron Squad patch on Ridoc’s chest.

“I’m guessing that’s how they earned this last year.” He stands and sighs. “This is taking too long.”

“Sir, we’re using standard interrogation protocol,” the woman says, entering the chamber.

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m here.” His cheery disposition scares me more than the woman’s fist. “This is my area of expertise—interrogation. And I have just the thing to crack them in record time.” He looks toward the hallway, then crooks his fingers. “Come on in. Don’t be shy.”

Rhiannon’s eyes flare, her gaze jumping from the doorway to me. The fear I see there hits me like a punch to the stomach.

“I believe you all know Wingleader Aetos?”

Every few years, a squad comes along that defies all expectations. They rise through the ranks, secure every patch, win every challenge. And then…they inexplicably falter, then fall. They call it the burnout effect: they flare too fast, too bright to sustain the pace. Sad, really, but mildly entertaining to watch them turn on one another.

—MAJOR AFENDRA’S GUIDE TO THE RIDERS QUADRANT (UNAUTHORIZED EDITION)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Dain steps into view, and my heart hits the stone floor as he surveys my friends, then turns toward me. His eyes widen as he takes stock of my bruised and swollen face. “Violet.”

“Dain is here.” I reach for Xaden even as fear freezes me in place. This can’t happen. I’m unsure how much Dain knows, but it’s definitely not as much as I do.

“I’m on my way.” The tense tone of Xaden’s voice is all it takes for me to know how deep the shit is about to get.

“You can’t do anything.” I reinforce my shields, putting all my mental energy into the task and drawing power from Tairn to bolster them, stacking the bricks two deep around my mental Archives.

“I don’t understand,” Sawyer says. “Why is our wingleader here?”

“He’s advocating for her like Riorson said a wingleader should,” Ridoc answers, hope in his voice. “Aren’t you?”

“He’s not,” I answer, keeping my eyes on Dain and his hands.

“Regulations state that riders should be healthy before beginning interrogation assessment,” Dain barks, ripping his gaze from mine to address Varrish. “Cadet Sorrengail is clearly not healthy.”

I blink in sheer surprise.

“Such a rule follower.” Varrish clucks his tongue. “Regulations say they should, not that they have to be. It’s more realistic that a rider would be wounded when captured.”

“What am I doing here?” Dain demands.

“Testing a theory.” Varrish smiles. “But while we’re waiting for our guest to arrive, you should practice on her.” He points to me.

Guest? My fear is replaced with anger. “Don’t come. Varrish wants to see if you will. I think he’s testing the bond-blocking mixture.”

“If he sees your memory, the entire movement is at risk.”

“And if you come in here, whipping shadows around, he’ll know I have something to hide, and this will become a real interrogation. Your only option is to trust that you trained me well enough.” A rescue sounds great in theory but would fuck all of us.

“Violet—” The plea in his voice nearly breaks me.

I shove that last brick in place and block Xaden out.

“You want me to…” Dain lifts his brows.

“Yes. Use your signet on her. Only to draw out the secret phrase, of course.”