Page 41 of Lost in Fire

“I’m sure she’s beautiful,” I say, though I’ve never seen her.

“She is.” Vanya’s voice catches slightly. “And she’s in danger.”

“The purification protocols.”

“They’ll identify her. Discover what she is.” She turns onto a narrow road that winds through wooded hills outside the city. “Once they know that—”

“They’ll kill her.”

“Or worse. Use her as leverage against me. Against you, once they realize the connection.”

My hands clench into fists. “We won’t let that happen.”

“No.” Her voice carries absolute certainty. “We won’t.”

The trees close around us as we climb into the hills, providing cover from surveillance satellites and magical oversight. After minutes of winding roads, she turns onto a gravel drive that disappears into heavy forest.

“Here,” she says.

The house that emerges from the trees is modest—two stories, weathered wood siding, the kind of place that blends into the landscape so well it’s almost invisible. But I can feel the magic radiating from it in waves, protective wards layered so thick they make my skin hum.

“Emergency contingency,” Vanya explains as she parks. “I’ve been preparing this place for years. Even Cassia doesn’t know about it.”

I climb out of the car, testing the magical defenses with careful probes. “Good magic. Impressive work… for a dragon.” I smile at her, hoping the teasing note in my voice will take the edge off the conversation.

“I had good teachers.” She moves toward the front door, which opens at her approach. “And plenty of motivation.” She removes her mask and I realize she’s taken the entire trip with it on, still clinging to the persona.

The interior of the house is sparse but comfortable—functional furniture, a modestly appointed kitchen, bookshelves lined with books. It feels like she wanted it to be a home, not a safe house.

“Motion detectors throughout the perimeter,” she explains, moving through the house to activate additional security measures. “Magical dampeners, early warning systems. If anyone approaches within a mile, we’ll know.”

She pauses at a window that overlooks the forest, her fingers tracing patterns against the glass that make the wards pulse brighter.

“How long have you been planning this?” I ask.

“Since the day she was born.” The words are quiet, heavy with years of preparation and fear. “I always knew this moment might come. When keeping her secret would no longer be enough.”

I move to stand beside her, close enough to catch the familiar scent of winter roses that clings to her hair. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin despite the ice that seems to be running in her veins.

“What happens now?”

She turns to face me, and for a moment, the Shadowhand’s persona slips completely. I see the woman I fell in love with—vulnerable, desperate, terrified for her child.

Our child.

“Now we wait,” she says. “I’ll bring her here tonight. Under the cover of darkness.”

My heart races at the prospect. “And then?”

“Then you meet your daughter.” Her eyes search mine, looking for something I’m not sure I can give her. “And we figure out how to keep her alive.”

The weight of it settles over me. Years of not knowing I had a daughter. Years of believing Vanya was dead, only to discover she was watching from the shadows. And now, in the space of hours, everything has changed.

I feel like my world is about to implode.

Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!

“Hargen.” Vanya’s voice is soft, uncertain. “I know you have every right to hate me. For the lies. For all of it.”

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