Page 3 of Forged in Fire
“Then you won’t go alone,” Ember says immediately, that steel in her young voice that reminds me of her mother.
“Absolutely not,” Vanya protests, her composed mask slipping. “Ember, you just turned twenty-one. You have no field experience—”
“But I have the connection,” Ember interrupts, and there’s something in her tone that makes everyone stop talking. “You heard what I said about the dreams. If I can help find Iris’s brother, if I can make sense of what’s happening in that chamber—isn’t that worth the risk?”
“No!” Vanya and Hargen say in unison, loud enough that the word bounces off the office walls.
I don’t say anything because my mind is too busy spinning in circles, trying to process my next steps.
“Nobody’s going anywhere until we know exactly where these chambers are located,” Viktor declares firmly. “And when we do move, it’ll be with a carefully planned operation. Not some half-cocked rescue mission.”
“Agreed,” Caleb says, stepping forward. His presence shifts the energy in the room—suddenly, we’re not just talking about a rescue, we’re talking about war. “If this involves Kael Craven’s resting place, then the Craven clan needs to be involved. Our ancestors’ legacy, our responsibility.”
Luke straightens, already shifting into tactical mode. “How many people are we talking about? What kind of opposition should we expect?”
“According to legend, the chambers would be heavily fortified,” says Viktor. “Kael’s people would have made sure of that. No easy access, clearly underground.” He glances at the footage on my phone again, studying the stone walls visible in the background.
“Underground means limited escape routes,” Hargen observes, his military instincts kicking in. “Easy to get trapped.”
“It also means that if the Syndicate is there, they can’t bring their full force to bear,” Dorian adds. “Confined spaces work both ways.”
The conversation swirls around me—entry points, backup plans, extraction strategies. I should be contributing. These are my skills, my area of expertise. Endless tracking, infiltration, and survival tactics have taught me how to think strategically.
But something’s wrong with my head. The voices blur together, and underneath it all, there’s this terrible urgency building in my chest.
Time’s running out.
The thought hits me from nowhere, urgent and undeniable. My hand finds the dragon pendant at my throat, fingers workingover the familiar ridges. The metal feels warm against my skin, almost pulsing like a second heartbeat.
“Iris?” Juno’s voice cuts through the fog in my brain. She’s been silently observing me for the entire conversation. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I force myself to focus on the conversation, on the logical discussion of approach vectors and contingency plans. But underneath it all, that horrible certainty keeps gnawing at me like something with teeth.
Too late. You’re going to be too late.
“We need intelligence on what we’d be up against,” Viktor continues. “Historical layouts of other dragon caves, Syndicate security protocols, anything that might give us an advantage.”
“I can reach out to some contacts,” Vanya offers carefully. “People who might have insights into Syndicate operations.”
“How long will that take?” The question tumbles out before I can stop it, too sharp and too desperate.
Viktor glances over at me. “Proper preparation takes time, Iris. Rushing in blindly gets people killed.”
“But if they’re using Kieran for something, if they’re planning—” I cut myself off, shake my head. The words feel dangerous, like speaking them might make them true. “Never mind.”
Except I can’t shake the feeling. Like a countdown timer ticking in the back of my skull. Like watching storm clouds gather on the horizon and knowing you can’t outrun what’s coming, can only hunker down and hope you survive the impact.
“Never mind what?” Juno says, clearly recognizing my growing agitation, and I’m grateful that at least one person is seeing how this is affecting me.
“What if we’re already too late?” I ask quietly.
The room falls silent. Everyone’s staring at me now—concern, calculation, the weight of decisions that could cost lives. Thekind of silence that happens when someone voices the fear everyone’s trying not to think about.
“We won’t be,” Caleb says bluntly. “They’ve kept him alive this long, Iris. They obviously have a purpose for him, or they would have killed him by now.”
I suck in a sharp breath. The thought of my brotherserving a purposefor the enemy makes me nauseous.
“Geez, Caleb!” Elena nudges him in the ribs. “A bit of tact might be good?”
