“I get the point.” A smile curves my mouth. “Thank you for caring, Professor Emetterio.”

“I never said I did.” He turns his attention to the Gauntlet, where Sloane has just crossed the fourth ascent.

“Right. Of course not.” I grin as I walk away, taking the rocky path to the quadrant, then fight the fear of my upcoming punishment. If Varrish tries to kill me, I’ll fight. If he wants to torture me, I’ll deal with it. Or maybe I should go straight to Panchek?

The path is crowded as another squad passes by for their turn at Gauntlet practice, and I stop stressing about stashing the dagger in my bag. At this rate, I’ll make it to my room without anyone seeing the alloy-hilted dagger.

By the time I reach the second-year floor, I’ve gone through about a dozen different scenarios of how to turn myself in.

Professor Kaori looks up from his book as he walks toward me in the main corridor, his brows furrowed in concentration, and I wave before turning into the little hallway that houses my squad’s chambers.

I stop short, my heart seizing for the length of what should be two beats when I see them.

“There she is.” Varrish’s greasy voice lifts the hairs on the back of my neck as he and his two henchmen push off the wall and head my way. “We’ve been waiting for you, Sorrengail.”

“I was going to wash the flight off and then present myself for judgment.” Close. I’m so fucking close to the safety behind my door.

“Oh, so you do realize you were absent without leave,” Varrish says, his smile anything but reassuring. The trio passes by my door and Rhiannon’s across the hall, then approaches Sawyer’s to my left and Ridoc’s to my right.

“Of course.” I nod.

Rhiannon’s door opens silently, and she peeks her head out, her eyes flying wide.

I subtly shake my head in warning, and she nods, ducking back inside and closing her door almost all the way. Good. I don’t want them looping her in on my punishment as soon as she inevitably tries to defend me as my squad leader.

“Bag,” Varrish orders.

Oh. Fuck. At least I didn’t stash the dagger in there. My mistake might just save my life.

Nora holds out her hand, and I slip my bag from my shoulder and hand it over.

“You couldn’t be bothered to wear your own uniform?” Varrish eyes Xaden’s rank on my collar. “You do know that impersonating a commissioned officer is against the Codex, do you not?”

Nora dumps my bag onto the stone floor, breaking the binding on my history book. Ouch. “Look, she has another one here.” She hands Bodhi’s jacket to Varrish.

“Collecting them, are we?” Varrish takes the jacket without looking my direction. His focus is on the bag with the other two riders’.

He’s going to take Xaden’s jacket. I fucking know it. Panic wells in my throat, threatening to cut off my oxygen. I glance up at Rhi, locking eyes with her through the slit she’s left in her door.

She cocks her head to the side silently, and I look pointedly to the dagger sheathed at my shoulder before lifting my brows at her.

“It’s just books, some flight goggles, and the jacket,” Nora says.

“A jacket that isn’t hers,” Varrish corrects her. “Just like the one she’s wearing.”

Rhiannon’s door squeaks, but she manages to close it before they swing their gazes her way.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m on my own. The dagger is more than enough to implicate me if he knows what it is, and if he doesn’t, Markham will. But worse, it will implicate Xaden. They’ll kill all the marked ones for what they’ll perceive as his betrayal.

“Check the one she’s wearing,” Varrish orders. “Since it’s clearly not regulation.”

“I’m sorry,” Professor Kaori says as he comes up behind me. “Did I just hear you order your…aides, or whatever it is you’re calling them, to strip a cadet?”

“It’s a jacket. She’s in violation of Article Seven, Section Three, which states that impersonating a commissioned officer—” Varrish starts.

“It’s Article Two, actually,” I interrupt, folding my arms across my chest. The shoulder has way more give to it than what I’d expect, but I’m not foolish enough to draw attention to it by glancing down again. “And it says impersonating a commissioned officer is a punishable offense, not wearing someone’s flight jacket. As you can see, I’m not wearing anyone’s name tag, nor am I claiming to be someone I’m not.”

“She has you there, Vice Commandant.” Kaori tucks his book under his arm. “And since when do we search cadets’ bags?”

“Since I took over as vice commandant.” Varrish lifts his head, standing to his full height. “This doesn’t involve you, Kaori.”

“Nevertheless, I’ll be staying,” Kaori retorts. “Power must always be kept in check, don’t you think, Major Varrish?”

“Are you accusing me of abusing my power where this cadet is concerned, Colonel Kaori?” Varrish moves to step toward us, but my bag is in the way.

“Oh, no.” Kaori shakes his head. “I think you abuse your power in general.”

It takes every muscle in my body to keep my features schooled.

Varrish’s eyes narrow on Kaori before turning to me. “I will have that flight jacket.” He holds out his hand.

I undo the buttons, begging my fingers not to tremble, and hand it over.

Varrish goes through every. Single. Pocket.

I don’t need to warn Tairn—I can already feel his quiet presence in the back of my mind.

“Hmm.” Kaori leans my direction and cocks his head, sweeping his gaze over my uniform. “Her name tag here clearly says Sorrengail, and I note two of her squad patches. Doesn’t seem to be impersonating anyone to me.”

“She is…” Varrish’s face blotches as he comes up empty on the jacket. “She is still due to face court-martial for departing campus without leave—”

“Oh.” Kaori nods. “That explains it. You haven’t talked to Panchek this afternoon. I turned in my expert opinion that Sorrengail not be punished for what was clearly the choice of her dragon. Her very powerful, very worried, very mated dragon. Panchek agrees. She’s clear of all charges.”

“I’m sorry?” Varrish drops Xaden’s jacket on the floor on top of Bodhi’s, and his henchmen stand.

“Come now,” Kaori says as if he’s talking to a child. “We can hardly expect a second-year to shield out the overpowering emotions of her dragon when even we struggle as officers, let alone one as strong as Tairn.”

“Maybe you struggle,” Varrish snips, losing his customary slick indifference. “Some of us do not bow to the whims of our dragons. In fact, we influence them.”

“Well, that’s certainly a theory worth contemplating.” Kaori pauses, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. “Odd. Would that mean you influenced Solas when he set fire to that squad of bonded riders after Parapet?”

Varrish glances between us. “We’re done here.”

The trio sidesteps the mess they made of my things and pushes by Professor Kaori.

“You’re making enemies, Sorrengail,” Kaori says softly after waiting until they’ve left.

“Not sure I made that one, Professor,” I tell him honestly, dropping to the ground and shoving my things back in the bag. “Pretty sure he came that way.”