Page 54 of Forged in Fire
“About?” Iris sets down the menu, meeting my gaze.
“How normal this feels.” It slips out before I can stop it.
Her smile changes her entire face, and something in my chest responds like she’s just lit a fuse. “Is that bad?”
“I don’t know.” Truth again. What the hell is wrong with me? “I’ve never been normal.”
The waitress arrives, pad in hand. Iris orders eggs with fresh bread and coffee black. I stick with coffee and pick thepapana?i, earning a look that suggests she finds my sweet tooth surprising.
“Never been normal, how?” she asks once we’re alone again.
I lean back, studying her. The smart thing would be to deflect. Change the subject. Keep the walls intact. Instead, I hear myself saying, “I’ve been with the Guild since I was nine.”
“Since you were nine?”
“They found me after my abilities manifested. Trained me. Shaped me into what they needed.” The coffee arrives, bitter and strong enough to wake the dead. Perfect.
“What did they need?”
“Someone who could take orders without question.” There’s no ego in the words. I’m no action hero. I’m a weapon with legs.
“Sounds… hard. Your childhood, I mean.”
“Guess it was.” I frown. “I grew up different.” I think about that for a moment, consider the life I probably missed. No teenage exploration. No young man’s adventures. No time for anything that didn’t involve weapons or strategy or learning new ways to end lives efficiently.
Her expression doesn’t change. No judgment. No pity. Just attention.
“What about relationships?” she asks quietly.
The question surprises me. I think about the women over the years—brief encounters that served physical needs and nothing more. Bodies in darkness, names I never learned or forgot immediately after. Connections that lasted hours at most, leaving me emptier than before.
“Quick flings. Nothing more.” I meet her eyes, feeling exposed in a way that has nothing to do with weapons or weakness. “I’ve never been on an actual date.”
That gets a reaction. Her eyebrows lift slightly, surprise flitting across her features. “Never?”
“What would be the point? The Guild doesn’t accommodate emotional attachments. Caring about someone makes you vulnerable. Distracted. Weak.”
“Do you believe that?”
For a moment, I don’t have an answer. Do I? I’ve worked this way for decades, but sitting here with Iris, feeling this strange lightness in my chest, I’m not so sure anymore.
“I used to.” My voice comes out rough. I frown down into my coffee cup as if I’ll find answers there.
She reaches across the table, fingers brushing mine. The contact sends fire up my arm, and I don’t pull away. Should, but don’t. Her skin is warm, soft, and I want to turn my hand over and thread our fingers together like this is something I have a right to.
“Tell me about your brother,” I say, needing to shift focus before I do something stupid. Like, admit how much I want to keep touching her.
The change in her expression is immediate. Love, fierce and absolute, transforms her features. Pain, too, shadowing the edges of her smile.
“Kieran.” Her lips curl up at the corners. “He’s my twin. Three minutes older and never lets me forget it.” Her voice warms with memory. “Smart as hell, stubborn as a rock, and the best person I’ve ever known.”
The way she talks about him—animated gestures, voice warming with affection—makes me envious. I’ve never loved anyone like that. Never felt that bone-deep connection to another human being.
“He was always protecting things,” she continues. “Injured birds, stray cats, kids getting bullied at school. Said someone had to stand up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves.”
“Sounds like you learned from him.”
“We learned from each other.” Her lips press together. “Our folks passed when we were teenagers. My father died in a clan skirmish. And Mom…” She swallows. “The mate bond was too strong. When it broke, she faded. One day, she was just… gone. After that, our aunt took us in, but really, it was us against the world.”
