Page 38 of Forged in Fire
I close my eyes and wait for him to decide which part of himself wins.
Chapter 12
Riven
The phone buzzes against the rough wooden table, vibration traveling through the grain.
Status report. Target neutralized?
My hand hovers near the Sig at my belt. Three steps away, Iris lies restrained where I positioned her on the couch. Her hair catches the amber lamplight, throws shifting shadows across pale skin that looks almost luminous in the dim cabin. Those impossible eyes watch me—no fear radiating from her now. Just cold calculation.
Strategic awareness. Unexpected in someone who walked into an obvious trap just hours ago.
The phone buzzes again, the sound sharp against the crackling of logs in the fireplace.
Confirm elimination.
A lifetime with the Guild. Never missed a target. Never failed to complete an assignment. Perfect record, until tonight. Until her.
The device buzzes again. A call this time. I reject it without conscious thought.
The screen flares bright blue, then dies.
Silence.
Iris studies me, chin raised in defiance despite her restraints. “So. We doing this or not?”
I turn toward the window, needing the distance.
“Hey.” Her voice is sharp. Demanding. “Is this some kind of sick game?”
If only it were that simple.
Outside, pine boughs sway in the mountain wind, their movement creating shifting patterns of black against the deeper black of the moonless sky. The cold glass fogs under my breath.
“We need sleep,” I say. “Morning will be clearer.”
“That’s not an answer.”
No. It’s a delay while I process variables I don’t understand.
Crossing the room, I settle into the worn leather chair, feeling it give under my weight. Close enough to intercept any escape attempts. Far enough to avoid the full impact of her scent, something wild and clean that makes dragon fire burn through my veins in ways I refuse to analyze.
She tests the restraints again. Enchanted metal scrapes against itself, the sound setting my teeth on edge.
“You can’t avoid this forever.”
“I can avoid it tonight.”
She rolls her eyes, and the small motion shouldn’t register as attractive. Shouldn’t make me wonder what she looks like when she laughs.
I’m compromised. Tactically. Professionally. Completely.
Fucked.
The Guild device buzzes again, persistent as a wasp. I shut it off completely, fingers steady despite the tremor running up my arm.
Silence returns, broken only by the pop and hiss of burning wood. I lean back in the chair, close my eyes, try to regulate my breathing like the Guild taught me decades ago.
