Page 48 of Lost in Fire

“What happens now?” she asks, vulnerability breaking through her careful control.

“The Syndicate is going to hunt you,” I tell her bluntly because there’s no sense in sugarcoating it. “Your mother has risked everything to keep you safe. And I intend to do the same.”

“And if I don’t want your protection? If I want answers instead?”

A slight smile tugs at my mouth—so like her mother, demanding truth regardless of consequence.

“Then I’ll give you both,” I promise. “Protection and answers. Starting with this one: I don’t know you yet, Ember. But I want to.”

She studies me, judgment in her gaze. I stand unflinching under her scrutiny, allowing her to see me clearly—not just the Syndicate handler or the Aurora operative, but the man.

Her father.

Finally, she nods; a small gesture, but it’s profound.

“I don’t know you either,” she says. “But I’m willing to learn.”

It’s not forgiveness or acceptance. It’s something more tentative, more fragile. But I recognize it for what it is.

A beginning.

Chapter 18

Vanya

The pasta is simple—something I threw together from the limited pantry—but Ember devours it like she hasn’t eaten in days. She sits across from Hargen, stealing glances when she thinks he isn’t looking, her fork pausing mid-bite whenever he speaks.

“You said you’ve been reading magical theory,” Hargen says, scooping up a forkful of spaghetti. “What’s your favorite subject?”

“Mainly protection. I’ve been trying to reverse-engineer protection spells from the Second Age.” Ember’s eyes light up. “They achieved effects we can’t replicate today with half the energy expenditure.” She catches herself, face flushing. “Ugh. I probably sound like a complete geek.”

“No.” Hargen shakes his head. “Although that’s pretty advanced reading for someone your age,” he observes.

“Mom’s always said I have an old soul.” Ember grins at me across the table. “She started me on basic texts when I was six. I think she was tired of me asking questions she couldn’t answer.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Like why some dragons have to shift completely while others can maintain partial forms. Or why some lines produce such powerful seers when their magical signature should theoretically dilute over generations.” She takes another bite, speaking around it with enthusiasm. “Mom thinks it has to do with the original binding magics used to create the bloodlines, but I wonder if it’s more about selective breeding practices maintaining—”

“Ember,” I interrupt gently. “Let your father eat.”

The word slips out before I can catch it.Father.Not “Hargen” or “our guest.” The simple truth that’s been burning in my chest since the moment they laid eyes on each other.

Ember’s fork clatters onto her plate. “Sorry. I get excited about research.”

“Don’t apologize.” Hargen’s voice is soft. “I like hearing what interests you. Your mother’s right about the original binding magics, but your instinct about selective breeding has merit, too. Some bloodlines maintain power through very specific mating rituals designed to amplify latent abilities.”

“Really?” Ember leans forward. “I’ve read about the rituals, but the texts never explained the mechanics. How did they ensure magical compatibility?”

I watch Hargen’s face as he answers, noting the careful way he chooses his words. He’s protecting her from the darker aspects of bloodline politics while feeding her curiosity. Already learning to be her father.

“Blood resonance testing,” he explains. “Some beings can sense magical compatibility through close contact. The strongerthe resonance, the more likely their offspring would inherit amplified abilities rather than diluted ones.”

“That’s how you knew,” Ember says suddenly, looking between us. “That’s how you and Mom knew you were… compatible.”

The silence stretches taut. I can feel Hargen’s eyes on me, reading the careful neutrality I’m projecting.

“No,” I say simply. “We fought it.”

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