“A squad with ten riders enforcers. Almost sixty officers on foot. Both ground and air surveillance.”

The man was pacing back and forth, his eyes not meeting any of their gazes.

“A national broadcast. Six months of planning. Support from both the royal family and the organizations—not even mentioning all the investment we received, solely for this operation.”

Although there were others in the room, somehow it felt as if the man was talking directly at her.

As if he was blaming only her.

“You had all of these, and still… The target got away?”

Alantra Harris said nothing.

As a new intern, she knew it was unreasonable to blame her for their failure. All the other chiefs said so. She had been with the force for no more than six months and had only received her temporary permit to ride during office hours a couple of weeks ago.

However, the feeling of utter defeat and overwhelming shame would not dissipate from her heart and mind. 

I had him.

Until that moment, everything had happened exactly as she had predicted. All their moves, all their calculations—everything had been correct. Perfect.

First, they forced Jackal out of hiding. After he left, it would only be a matter of time before he was spotted. Then, all they had to do was deploy the enforcers and force his hand. And those things happened, one by one, almost by the clock. Exactly like their informant said they would. 

And she had him.

Alantra had Jackal right under her, ready to be cuffed and sent away. 

The number one ringleader, one of the personifications of everything wrong with their races—their society. The man who made a business out of others’ misery and desperation, who exploited their weaknesses and broken dreams.

She had that criminal right under her thumb.

But then he got help.

Their internal sources had sworn on their life and soul Jackal had no allies. That the number one ringleader didn’t rely on anyone, no matter the situation he was in. That he was arrogant, selfish, presumptuous, and conceited. 

Then what was that? 

Either someone helped Jackal out of their own volition and Jackal simply took advantage of the situation, or he was more two-faced than Alantra had predicted. And in the end, it didn’t matter which case was. What mattered was Jackal’s escape and their loss.

The Commander’s voice, although maintaining a normal volume, carried the power and rage of a thunder. 

“I’m sure you all know what words people associate with the authorities these days. What every newspaper says about what we strive for. Incompetence. Indulgence. Negligence.”

With each word, the man dropped a newspaper at their feet. Alantra had no need to lower her gaze to know each one of the headlines.

[ANOTHER MISS: AUTHORITIES FAIL TO ARREST MYSTERIOUS ROBBER]

[STARWING PRIZE COMPROMISED? AUTHORITIES STILL INVESTIGATING INVADED SITE]

[THE FALL OF THE WHITE RAVENS: WHO SHOULD THE PEOPLE TRUST AFTER MERAKI MUSEUM INCIDENT?] 

“You know full well what this operation meant to us. What it was supposed to show the people of this city. Why it was fucking broadcast.”

Some officers beside her flinched. 

Alantra had the desire to cry. In rage, in disgust, in defeat. Yet her eyes could not be drier. 

She had no right to shed tears.

The Commander took a long sigh, staring at the ceiling with both hands at his waist. 

“Since it seems my team is, indeed, incompetent, I am forced once again to lie to the press so the authorities can at least keep a shred of dignity. Because nobody cares about what you have to say about this—they care about what Commander Ravenfield has to say about this mess. Isn’t that so?” 

No one uttered a word. 

He sighed again, placing his hands on top of the table. Leaning against it.

“Now, before I go outside and make an utter fool out of myself…I want to hear all your excuses.”

Silence.

Deafening, crushing, and shameful silence. One none of them wished to break, not when it could cut their skins and make them choke in their own words.

“I was the leader of this operation. The fault is mine, Commander.” 

Which was why Alantra was the first to speak. She deserved to be cut and choked, to feel the weight of her failure.

“I blindly trusted our sources regarding Jackal’s behavior without preparing countermeasures, and failed to consider the possibility of him relying on external help.”

The Commander let out a weak, pitiful laugh.

“Though I admire Harris' commendable effort to assume responsibility where is due…to publicly state our star, summer intern was the reason this operation failed would do nothing but bring us more shame. Alas, this excuse is not good either. Anyone else wishes to give it a try?”

When no one else spoke, the man sighed again, his voice lacking patience and energy.

“Everyone but Harris, leave. Otherwise, I may kill you all.”

The room was emptied in a matter of seconds, the door closing behind them as if it had its own will. 

Once they were alone, Commander Bran Ravenfield walked toward his desk and took a seat. Alantra did not move.

“Miss Harris, do you know why you were chosen as the leader of this operation?”

In the past months, she had heard many theories from other officers. Not only regarding the operation but for her being chosen as the new intern.

Sometimes people would ask to her face, while in most cases she would have to pay attention to the whispers and murmurs that got too carried away.

Her mouth suddenly became dry, the words scratching her throat as she spoke the main reason for those theories. 

“Because of my family.”

The man chuckled, shaking his head once.

“I do acknowledge the prestige and importance of the noble house Harris, especially in the force. Many Commanders and chiefs carried the Harris name, and every single one of them retired with honor.”

She shifted in her place, her clothes suddenly feeling too tight. 

Itchy.

“I’ve heard the stories, yes.”

As the Commander laughed, the sound airy and lighthearted.

“Of course you did. Your old man can hardly shut up about them.” Then all that remained of that laughter was a hollow echo as the man’s smile disappeared, a new shadow crossing his gaze. “I will ask again. Do you know why you were chosen to represent the authorities? To be known as the leader and have your face shown to thousands?”

“Because of my academic performance, and—”

“Because the people like you.” Bran Ravenfield was quick to silence her. To make sure she wouldn’t embarrass herself even further. “Because you are from one of the big prestigious families, a contender of the StarWing race, and a woman pleasant to look at, on top of it all. Because people would rather see the beautiful Alantra Harris dressed in a uniform while making an arrest, than Officer Collin who is just another old man nearing his forties, lacking any kind of charisma and good looks.”

She could feel her face burn, the Commander’s words punching her in the guts as if they were made of stones.

“You were a stellar intern here, I won’t take this credit away from you. Yet what we needed most for this operation—for the face of this operation—was not someone stellar or capable. But something entertaining.”

The reality of his words was something Alantra should not be surprised to find out. It was predictable, almost natural. Yet somehow the naked truth Bran Ravenfield was revealing to her, the fact her efforts and her beliefs meant so little at the end of the day…

It made those stones all the heavier.

“As we are now, we cannot do anything. And because we can’t do anything, we must lie under oath, we must make unsavory deals and arrangements, all so we can fulfill our mission.”

The room was spacious, yet it was so hard to breathe.

“If the authorities lose the grace of the people, our power weakens. If our powers weaken, then we cannot do our job anymore. We cannot protect the ones we swore to protect. Do you understand?”

Alantra Harris had never felt so small.

So insignificant and helpless.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Good. Then I believe what I demand of you now will be quite obvious and easy to perform.”

Alantra frowned, shifting in her place. “Do you still want me here? After everything that happened?”

The man laughed, as if she had just said something stupid.

“Why would I want you out? You are a Harris and have the brightest of futures ahead. I see no reason to sever your path with us like that. Now, what I want you to do is simple. It will be as easy as breathing for someone like you.”

For a split second, Alantra could see the wild glow in the Commander’s eyes. And even before his lips moved, she knew what he was going to say. 

What he wanted from her. 

“I want you to climb your dragon and ride.”

And the words he uttered left a bitter echo behind, the sound and its weight sinking deep into her chest.