Page 57 of Forged in Fire
And that’s probably a mistake.
Iris turns to face me as soon as we walk into our room. “I’m not sure how to reach out to them. I’m pretty sure my phone would be traced. I’ve had it powered down since before I got to the compound.”
“We’ll use my burner; it’s clean,” I say, reaching for the device. I know this carries implications. Anyone monitoring Craven lines will be able to trace this back to us. I’ll just have to pray they’ve kept security tight from their end. Though from what I’ve heard of the Cravens, that’s probably likely.
Still, I’ve never been comfortable putting my safety in others’ hands.
When I don’t immediately hand the phone over, Iris narrows her eyes on me.
“Is there a problem?”
“I’m thinking about letting you make a call that could save us,” I admit. “Or get us both killed.”
She moves closer, stopping just out of arm’s reach.
“Riven.” My name on her lips does things to me that have nothing to do with strategy or survival. “I know what this means.”
Do you? I want to ask. Do you know that I’ve never trusted another human being with anything that mattered? Do you know that giving you this phone goes against every principle the Guild drilled into me?
Do you know that I’m about to put my life in your hands, and for the first time in my adult life, that doesn’t terrify me?
“Take it,” I say instead, holding out the device.
She stares at the phone like it might bite her. “Are you sure?”
No. I’m not sure of anything anymore. But I’m tired of being alone. Tired of operating in isolation, making decisions based on nothing but cold calculation and distant orders.
For once in my life, I want to choose connection over safety.
I want to choose her.
“Make the call,” I tell her, and place the phone in her palm.
Her fingers close around it, and around mine. The contact burns through me, and I wonder if this is what normal people call trust.
Or if it’s something else entirely.
Chapter 17
Iris
Anxiety floods me as I dial Elena’s number. My finger hovers over the call button for a moment longer than necessary. Part of me dreads this conversation—having to admit that I made a mistake, that I need help I can’t give myself.
But Kieran’s face won’t stop haunting me.
Riven sits across from me in the small armchair, cleaning his weapons. He’s close enough to hear both sides of the conversation but far enough to give me the illusion of privacy.
I shake my head and press call.
Elena picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Elena, it’s me.”
“Iris?” There’s confusion in her voice, then sharp concern. “Oh, thank God, Iris, we’ve been— Wait! Whose number is this? Where the hell are you?”
“I’m fine,” I say, which isn’t exactly a lie. Physically, I’m intact. Emotionally… That’s more complicated. “I’m safe. For now.”
“For now?” Elena’s voice goes sharp. “Iris, what the hell happened? You disappeared without a word, and then we got reports of Syndicate activity in the Carpathians. That was you, wasn’t it?”
