Bringing Langston back to Havenridge was the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Not because it was dangerous—though it definitely was—but because the moment she walked into the mess hall with him cradled in her arms, silence shattered the room.
"A familiar?" one boy whispered.
"Is she allowed to do that?"
"She's dead," someone muttered. "That cat's gonna eat her in her sleep."
Ryan ignored them all. She went straight to General Kael.
The General stood like a cliff—broad, motionless, with frost in his eyes. His uniform was crisp, every inch of his presence screaming order.
"You can't keep it," he said flatly. "No bond, no entry."
"He's not *it*," she shot back. "He's Langston. And he passed out from blood loss saving himself from a dark arts ambush. He's a survivor."
The General narrowed his eyes. "Do you know how many spies wear innocent fur?"
"He'll take a soul test," she said before she could think better of it.
Gasps filled the hall. Soul tests were ancient. Dangerous. And very final.
Langston stirred from her arms. "I will."
The General turned to the mages. "Prepare the sanctum."