Page 14 of Fated by Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #1)

Chapter 14

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The drive back to my penthouse is tense and silent, broken only by the faint hum of the engine and the occasional splash of tires hitting puddles on the rain-soaked streets.

Elena sits rigid in the passenger seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her gaze fixed on the blur of city lights outside the window. Her silence is louder than any words she could hurl at me.

“Where are we going?” she finally asks. I’m driving too fast. Taking corners recklessly. Two roads back, I ran a red light. I pull in a breath and force myself to calm down.

“My place,” I say, glancing in the rearview mirror. There’s nobody behind us, but that doesn’t mean anything.

Would he be stupid enough to pursue us?

No. I know this isn’t over, but Malakai isn’t going to handle this in the open. His attack will come when I least expect it. Maybe under the guise of some sort of corporate crap. Unless he reverts to the old ways and rains fire and brimstone.

I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Your place?” She turns to me. “Why?”

“It’s safer there. We need time to figure this out.” I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I should be furious with her—I am furious with her—but the memory of her trembling in that chair, her wrists bound, her eyes wide with fear, keeps eclipsing my anger. I shouldn’t care. She’s a liar, a spy, probably a thief. But when I saw her there, vulnerable and defiant, something instinctive in me roared to life. Something I don’t fully understand.

“Caleb,” she says suddenly, her voice sharp but unsteady. “You owe me an explanation. What the hell just happened back there? Who was that? Why—?”

“Not now, Elena,” I cut her off, my tone clipped. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Dark waves have escaped her ponytail, framing her drawn features. There’s a faint bruise on her cheek, and the sight of it makes something dangerous unfurl in me.

Fucking Malakai.

She opens her mouth to argue but then hesitates, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. I can see the tremor in them, the way her shoulders are still rigid with tension.

“So you know who I am.” Her voice is small. “What I was doing.”

I snort. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out eventually?”

“Guess not,” she says, almost meekly. She’s shaken, more than she’s letting on. It’s probably the only reason she doesn’t press me further.

I look back at the road, my jaw tightening. Despite all that she’s done, I can’t shake the guilt gnawing at me. I was part of what she was just exposed to. She stumbled into my world, and now she’s paying the price.

My jaw tightens at the thought. Malakai’s behavior cuts deeper than I’m willing to admit. For all of his bluster, he’s been a constant presence in my life after my father’s death. And now this. Kidnapping. Assault. Turning against the clan— No, not the clan. Against me . I have to get to the bottom of it.

But first, I need answers from the woman beside me.

The penthouse elevator doors slide open, and I stride in, Elena trailing behind me like a shadow. She stops just inside the doorway, her sharp gray eyes scanning the space with a mix of wariness and curiosity. The living room is a carefully structured blend of clean lines and muted tones—dark leather, polished wood, a wall of windows that frame the glittering skyline.

“Nice place,” she says dryly, her voice cutting through the silence. “Very… cold and impersonal.”

“Sit,” I order, gesturing to the sofa.

She doesn’t move. “I’m not a dog, Caleb.”

“You’re in no position to argue,” I snap, rounding on her. “You broke into my company, accessed a restricted area, and now you’re neck-deep in something you don’t understand. So sit the hell down and start talking.”

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think she’s going to argue. Instead, she crosses the room and perches on the edge of the sofa, her posture stiff, her hands clenched in her lap.

I lean against the arm of a chair across from her, my arms folded. “Start with who hired you.”

She doesn’t answer immediately, her gaze flickering to the window before returning to mine. “Who said I was hired?”

“Don’t play games, Elena. You’re a private investigator. You don’t go snooping around billion-dollar corporations for fun.”

Her lips twist into a bitter smile. “And you don’t kidnap people and lock them in basements for shits and giggles. Yet here we are.”

I stiffen. “Malakai acted without my knowledge or consent. He’ll be dealt with.”

“Good to know,” she mutters.

I take a step closer, my voice hinting at the anger brewing inside me. “Who hired you?”

She hesitates, then exhales sharply. “A company called Blackthorn Consulting. They offered me a job investigating Craven Industries. I don’t know who they are or what they want. They just gave me a list of tasks and paid me a lot of money to do them.”

Blackthorn. The name rattles in my head. This confirms my suspicions. Someone sent her in to poke around, to dig up information—or to find something specific.

My eyes lock on hers. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing of value,” she says, her voice rising. “Corporate structure, financial reports, employee records. Stuff anyone could find with a little digging. I didn’t know what they were after until—”

“Until you found the vault,” I finish for her.

She nods, her expression grim. “Yeah. Until I found the vault.”

The tension between us ramps up a notch. I study her face, searching for any sign of deceit, but all I see is frustration and defiance. She’s telling the truth—or at least most of it.

“What did you see?” I snap out the words. “What did you see in the vault?” I add more gently.

She hesitates again, her gaze dropping to her hands. “A… crystal. It was glowing. And then… I don’t know. It’s fuzzy. Before I could get a closer look, that guy—Malakai—grabbed me.”

A knot of unease twists in my gut. She saw the Heartstone. That alone is dangerous enough. But if she felt its power…

I stand and step closer, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Elena, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. That vault wasn’t just a corporate secret. It’s—”

“What?” she interrupts, her eyes flashing with anger. “A magical treasure trove? A secret government experiment? What the hell was that thing, Caleb? And what was he ? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t hallucinate a man turning into a… a…”

She trails off, her voice shaking. I see the fear in her eyes, the confusion, and it feels like the sensation belongs to me. She’s caught in the crossfire of a war she doesn’t understand, and for a moment, I want to tell her everything. To explain the Heartstone, the clan, the Syndicate. But I can’t. Not yet. Probably not ever, if I can help it.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I say instead.

“Try me,” she snaps.

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen. Dorian.

“I have to take this,” I say, stepping away.

Elena stands, her movements sharp and angry. “Of course you do. Why answer my questions when you can just walk away?”

I round on her, my temper flaring. “You’re not the only one with problems, Elena. If you want to stay alive, you’ll stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She steps closer, her chin tilted up in defiance. “Or what? You’ll lock me in your vault, too? Turn me over to Malakai? Maybe turn into a monster and rip me apart?”

Her words hit like a slap. The irony of it—the truth she’s so close to uncovering—makes my chest tighten.

I grab her arm, my grip firm but not painful. “You’re playing with fire, Elena. Literally. You don’t know what’s at stake.”

“Then tell me!” she shouts, her voice breaking.

For a moment, we’re frozen like that, her face inches from mine, our breaths mingling. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted, and something surges between us—something raw and real.

I don’t know who moves first. Maybe we both do. But suddenly, my mouth is on hers, and nothing else matters.

The kiss is fierce, desperate, fueled by adrenaline and rage and what I can only describe as pure lust. Her hands clutch at my shirt, pulling me closer, and I press her against the wall, my body flush against hers. Her lips are soft, her breath warm, and for a moment, it’s all I can think of.

My hands, almost of their own accord, begin to move. They slide down her sides, feeling the curve of her waist, the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her shirt. My fingers grip her hips, pulling her tighter against me, and I can feel the heat of her body seeping into mine.

I’m shocked at the intensity of my own reaction, the way my pulse races, the way my breath catches in my chest. It’s as if I’ve lost control, as if the adrenaline coursing through me has stripped away any restraint.

Her hands aren’t still either. They roam my back, fingers digging into the muscles there, urging me closer. One hand slips under my shirt, her palm searing against my skin, and I can’t suppress the shudder that runs through me. The sensation is electric, overwhelming, and I know I should pull away, but I can’t. I’m powerless to resist her, to resist this.

My lips leave hers, trailing down her neck, and I feel her pulse racing beneath my mouth. Her hands move to my chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, and I don’t stop her. I don’t want to.

She pushes my shirt open, her palms flat against my chest, thumbs tracing circles, and I groan low in my throat. I reach for the hem of her shirt, tugging it up, my fingers brushing the soft skin of her stomach, the curve of her breasts soft against my knuckles. I feel her breathing deepen, her body pressing into mine, and I know I’m lost.

For a moment, I’m unsettled by the sheer intensity of it all—her heat, her taste, the way she feels beneath my hands. She’s like a drug I never knew of, yet suddenly, I’m addicted. I’m caught in a storm of emotion, of sensation, and I can’t find the will to pull myself out of it.

“Caleb…” Her voice is a whisper against my ear, breathless and urgent, and I can’t think, can’t reason. All I can do is feel, and right now, all I feel is her.

But reality crashes back in when my phone buzzes again. I pull away, my chest heaving, my mind a jumbled mess.

Elena’s eyes are dazed, her lips swollen. “Caleb…”

“Not now,” I say, my voice hoarse. I answer the phone, my gaze still locked on hers.

“Caleb,” Dorian’s voice crackles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“Home. I have Elena.”

“Good. Because Mara’s losing her shit. She’s threatening to go to the cops. If she does—”

“I’ll handle it.”

“You’d better. And Caleb… be careful. She’s not just some random PI. There’s something about her.”

I don’t respond. I don’t need to.

When I hang up, Elena’s arms are crossed again, her expression unreadable. “I need to get home.”

I shake my head. “Not a chance.” I don’t know why I say it. I hadn’t thought this far ahead, but suddenly, all of my instincts are telling me not to let her out of my sight. Demanding that I keep her safe.

Her jaw juts out because, of course, it does. “I’m not staying here.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I say, stepping closer.

Her eyes flash. “Yes, I do. And if you try to stop me, I’ll call Mara. And we’ll see how your little secrets hold up under police scrutiny.”

I freeze, my jaw clenching. She’s right. I can’t force her to stay. Not without risking exposure.

“Fine,” I say finally. “Go. But if you value your life, you’ll stay out of this. And out of my way.” It’s an order that feels hollow because I don’t know how I’m going to stick to it myself. The thought of letting her go out there without keeping tabs seems impossible.

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she turns on her heel and storms out, slamming the door behind her.

I stand there for a long time, the weight of her absence heavier than I expected.

Something is happening here, something I can’t explain, and I get the distinct feeling that it’s already too late to turn back.