Page 111 of Born in Fire

As we prepare to leave, I catch Juno’s expression. Her eyes have that distant look again, like she’s seeing something the rest of us can’t.

“Juno?” I touch her arm.

She startles. “What? I… Sorry. I was a million miles away.”

“Is everything okay?”

Her brow furrows. “I’m just getting a funny feeling, that’s all.”

“Probably has something to do with the fact that you’re about to go on your first dragon hunt, stargazer.” I keep my tone light, although I hate the idea that we may be walking into danger.

“Stargazer.” She smiles. “You used to call me that. Because of my name.”

I feel warmth build as I realize she’s just picked up another memory. “Yes,” I tell her. “Juno of the stars.”

“You two gonnna stand around here whispering sweet nothings all day?” Caleb is already at the door.

“Of course not,” I reply. “We’re right behind you.”

“Lucky you,” Elena grumbles.

“Be patient, my love.” Caleb softens his tone. “You’ll be safe with Lydia.”

We turn and leave the building.

Chapter 34

Juno

The abandoned warehouse looms above us, its brick facade weathered by decades of Seattle rain. Dorian places a protective hand on my lower back as we approach, guiding me toward a side entrance where a young man with auburn hair waits.

“Daniel,” Dorian nods. “Anything new?”

“Nothing since I called,” Daniel replies, eyes flicking curiously to me before returning to Dorian. “The place is secure. No one’s been here since I found it.”

Caleb pushes past, all business. “Show us.”

We follow Daniel through a rusted door into a cavernous space. Light slants through broken windows, creating grid patterns across the dusty floor. The air smells of mildew and something acrid that makes my skin prickle.

“I tracked them here,” Daniel explains, leading us deeper into the building. “Lost the trail after, but they were definitely here.”

The brothers move silently, scanning the space with predatory focus. I hang back, observing. Despite my lack of memory or experience, something about this place resonates with me. Heat flashes across my skin in unpredictable waves.

“Here,” Daniel points to a section of floor. “Found these.”

Scattered across the wooden planks are what look like metal fragments—iridescent, gleaming despite the dust. Dorian crouches, picking one up between his fingers.

“Dragon scales,” he murmurs. “Recently shed.”

I move closer, fascinated. “May I?”

Dorian places one in my palm. It’s surprisingly warm, lighter than it looks. As I turn it, catching the light, something stirs in me—recognition without memory.

“Multiple dragons,” Caleb notes, examining scorch marks on nearby support beams. “At least three, maybe four.”

I drift away from their methodical assessment, drawn to the far side of the room where the floor bears a perfect circle of char. The wood within the circle is blackened but not burned through—as if intense heat was applied with surgical precision.

As I approach, the temperature around me rises. My skin tingles, tiny pinpricks of sensation crawling up my arms. The air seems to thicken, making each step feel like wading through invisible resistance.

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