Page 107 of Lost in Fire

The crowd parts as Viktor approaches Ember with a ceremonial dragon-scale pendant—formal recognition of her status as an adult within our community. She accepts it with grace, then steps forward to address the room.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight.” Her voice carries clearly, confident without arrogance. “A few weeks ago, I thought I was alone in the world except for my mother. Now I’ve discovered I have a father who risked everything to find me, a bloodline stretching back centuries, and allies I never could have imagined.”

She finds my eyes across the room. “To my parents—thank you for the sacrifices you made to keep me safe. I understand now why you did what you did, and I’m grateful for every difficult choice that led us here.”

Applause fills the hall. I feel tears threaten and force them back.

No more hiding. No more masks.

“And to everyone here,” Ember continues, “thank you for proving that different doesn’t have to mean divided. We’re stronger together.”

As the applause dies down, Hargen and I make our way through the crowd toward her. She grins as we approach, her happiness infectious.

“Disgustingly adorable, you two,” she says, eyeing our joined hands. “The mate bond thing is really working for you.”

“Says the woman who just gave a speech that would make ancient diplomats weep,” Hargen replies, pulling her into a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

A flash of movement catches my eye—Iris Asguard near the windows, her face pale as she stares at her phone. She’s been quiet tonight, more withdrawn than usual.

“Excuse me for a moment,” I murmur to Hargen and Ember, concerned.

Iris looks up as I approach, quickly tucking her phone away. “Vanya. Hell of a party.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She laughs, but it’s strained. “Maybe I have.” After a moment’s hesitation, she pulls out her phone again. “My brother. Three years ago, the Syndicate took him during a raid on our territory. I thought he was dead, but…”

She shows me the screen—security footage, grainy and dark, but showing a figure walking through what looks like ancient stone corridors.

“This was taken yesterday,” she says quietly.

I study the image, and recognition hits me. “That’s the Sleeping King’s Chamber.”

“The what?” But Iris’s question is interrupted by Hargen appearing at my side, drawn by whatever tension he’s sensing in me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Someone’s been spotted near Kael Craven’s resting place,” I tell him, watching his face change. “The last Craven king.”

“That’s impossible,” Iris says. “Most records claim he died centuries ago—”

“He didn’t die,” Hargen says quietly. “At least, not according to Rossewyn histories. He chose dragon sleep.”

“And someone’s disturbing his chamber,” I finish. The implications make my stomach clench. “Iris, if that’s really your brother—”

“I have to go.” Her determination is absolute. “If he’s alive, if he needs help—”

“Wait, the Craven king is still alive?” Mara Jones appears beside us, her eyes widening with professional interest. “The dude who established the Oath of Fire?”

“This isn’t material for your next cover story, Jones,” Luke interrupts, materializing with that uncanny stealth all Craven fighters possess. “This is clan history.”

Mara crosses her arms. “You know perfectly well my ‘conspiracy channel’ exists to protect your kind, not expose it. That dragon battle above Seattle would’ve been all over mainstream news if I hadn’t convinced my followers it was viral marketing.”

“And you think ancient dragon kings will be as easy to explain away?” Luke counters.

Their tension is interrupted when Ember approaches, drawn by our huddled conversation. She glances at Iris’s phone, and something shifts in her expression—a flash of recognition, though she’s never seen the chamber before.

“I know this place,” she says softly, taking the phone with a slight tremor in her hand. “I’ve dreamed about it. These corridors, these markings…” She traces the carved symbols visible in the grainy footage.

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