Cain’s office is cold and hard. The floors are black marble, and where the walls aren’t slatelike in color, they are covered in heavy, black drapes. A glossy black desk sits just before a single, exposed window so crowded with trees, no light seeps through, and there Elite Cain stands, one hand behind his back, the other resting lightly on his desk. My father stands to the side.

Natalie and I come to a stop a few feet before them and salute, though Elite Cane doesn’t lift his eyes to us.

“It appears I’ve caught you two in a web.” Those words make my heart fall right into my stomach. “Knight-in-Training Rivera, you failed to inform us that Knight-in-Training Savior did not report for patrol last night.”

Natalie blanches. Well, at least she wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t report my absence.

“Where were you?” my father asks.

Simple question with a not-so-simple answer. I can either admit I was checking up on Anora, something that doesn’t look good, especially following Lily’s transgressions, death-speaker or not, or admit I was attacked by hellhounds and seek medical attention. How much more can I get tangled?

“I was attacked by a hellhound,” I say. For effect—and as evidence—I pull up the sleeve of my suit to show off my wounds.

Silence follows my admission, and I feel like I’m standing at the center of a frozen pond, the ice buckling beneath my feet.

“And you didn’t think it was important to report the attack? Or seek medical attention?”

That question doesn’t really require an answer, so I report what I discovered while fighting the hounds.

“The hellhounds didn’t react as they do in simulation,” I say.

“Hounds? There was more than one?” Another fact that contradicts my training—we’d been taught hellhounds don’t travel in packs.

“One attacked and I skewered its head. When it fell dead, I thought my job was done, but it multiplied, and then, no matter how many times I took a knife to their brains, they did not die.”

“And where did they go?”

“They disappeared.” Those words are thick on my tongue, like oil, black and sticky. My father and Cain exchange a look, and I wonder what they’re thinking.

Cain clears his throat. “In your absence, Knight-in-Training Rivera reported the soul of Vera Bennet missing. Were you aware?”

I’d say yes, but I’m already in deep. “Only this morning when she wasn’t in her place over Emerson.”

“And neither of you have any idea where she might have gone?”

Just when I am about to say no, Natalie opens her mouth.

“I have suspicions, Elite Cain.”

He raises his brows—most likely because of the use of suspicions and not evidence. The Order is a stickler for evidence before action is taken. “Go on.”