Page 89 of Forged in Fire
Viktor leans back in his chair, studying us both. “You understand what you’re proposing? Once you’re in there… in the depths of the mountain… We can’t guarantee we’ll be able to get you out.’”
“I understand,” Iris says. “But this is Kieran we’re talking about. My brother. The only close family I have left.”
“Not the only family,” Ember corrects softly. “You’ve got us now. All of us.”
Something shifts in Iris’s expression. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition of possibilities she hadn’t considered. The idea that connection might extend beyond blood, beyond the twin bond that’s driven her for so long.
“All the more reason to make sure this works,” she replies.
Viktor stands, moving to the display one more time. His fingers trace routes through the mountain passes, calculating distances and timing. “If you’re committed to this plan, we need detailed intelligence on the cave systems. Magical reconnaissance to identify barriers and defenses. Equipment designed for underwater infiltration and vertical climbing.”
“How long to put that together?” I ask.
“Forty-eight hours. Maybe less if we push resources.”
“Do it,” Iris says without hesitation. “Every hour we wait is another hour closer to their ritual.”
“And if they succeed?” Caleb asks.
“Then we’re not just rescuing one man,” I tell him. “We’re preventing the resurrection of a power that was locked away for very good reasons.”
The implications settle over the room like a weighted blanket.
If we fuck this up, the world as we know it is set to change in ways we can’t even begin to anticipate yet. And if the Syndicate has anything to do with it, the results are not going to be pretty.
The future of our kind rests on how we handle the next three days.
Just another day in paradise, Barlowe.
Time to get to work.
Chapter 27
Iris
I find him in the observatory wing of the Aurora Collective headquarters, standing before the windows that overlook the valley. He’s still as stone, hands clasped behind his back, but I can read the tension in his bearing.
He knew I was coming. Of course he did.
“You went to Viktor and Caleb without me.” I don’t bother with pleasantries as I step into the room, letting the door close behind me softly.
His shoulders lift slightly—not quite a shrug, more like a man bracing for impact. When he turns his head to me, those silvery eyes hold no apology. Just that measured wariness that makes me want to shake sense into him.
“It was necessary.”
“Necessary?” The word comes out sharply, but I’m too worked up to care about diplomacy. “You went behind my back and made decisions about my brother. About my life.”
Now he does turn fully, crossing his arms over his chest in that way that makes his biceps strain against his shirt sleeves. I take in the sight of him, and then my eyes drop lower. I stop myself short.
Get a grip, Iris.
This is not the time to notice how perfectly his jeans fit. Especially when I know exactly what is hidden by that snug denim. My thighs press together without me realizing it. I force myself to focus on his face instead.
“I saw how much you needed this to happen,” he says, voice deliberately controlled. “I was trying to give you what you wanted.”
The confession hits me sideways. I’d been prepared for defensiveness, for his usual economical non-answers. Not this raw honesty that makes something flutter dangerously in my chest.
“That’s…” I shake my head, frustrated with myself as much as him. “I don’t know whether to be furious with you or touched that you’d do that.”
