Page 17 of Fated by Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #1)

Chapter 17

E lena

The banging on my door snaps me awake like a gunshot. My heart leaps into my throat as I bolt upright, disoriented and groggy. The room is dim, the last remnants of daylight filtering through the blinds, and it takes me a moment to remember where I am—back in my loft, safe-ish, after the insanity of last night.

The banging continues, louder and more insistent this time.

“Elena! Open the damn door!”

Caleb’s voice. Of course it’s Caleb. Who else would it be?

I groan, rubbing my face with my hands as I swing my legs over the edge of the couch. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been run over by a truck, and my mind is still foggy from exhaustion. But the urgency in his tone cuts through the haze, and I stumble to my feet, grabbing my discarded hoodie from the floor and pulling it on over my tank top.

The banging doesn’t stop.

“I’m coming!” I yell, my voice hoarse from sleep. I yank open the door, and there he is—Caleb Craven, looking every inch the billionaire CEO he is, except for the wildness in his eyes and the tension in his jaw.

He’s dressed in another one of his immaculate suits, this one charcoal gray, but his tie is loosened, and his hair is slightly disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it. He looks… agitated. More than that, actually. He looks angry .

“What the hell do you want?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. “How did you find out where I live?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the small space of my loft. He glances around briefly, taking in the cluttered desk, the worn furniture, the Polaroid of my mom on the corkboard. His gaze lingers there for a moment before he turns back to me.

“How did you get into the vault?” he demands, his voice taut with urgency.

I blink at him, caught off guard. “What?”

“The vault,” he repeats, stepping closer. “How did you bypass the biometric scanners? The retinal scan? The security protocols?”

“I… I don’t know,” I stammer, backing up a step as he advances. “I just… I walked up, and they let me in. The scanners must’ve been faulty.”

“Faulty?” His eyes narrow, and I can see the disbelief in them. “Do you have any idea how secure that system is? It’s not just a random lock and key, Elena. It’s state-of-the-art. It doesn’t just malfunction .”

“Well, it did,” I shoot back, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know what to tell you, Caleb. I didn’t hack into it, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just walked in.”

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find some hidden truth. I hold his gaze, refusing to back down, even though my stomach is doing flips.

Finally, he lets out a low breath and steps back, running a hand through his hair. “You’re lying,” he says flatly.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re lying,” he repeats, his voice sharper this time. “You know something you’re not telling me. And if you think I’m going to let this slide, you’re dead wrong.”

I grit my teeth, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “You don’t get to come in here and accuse me of lying, Caleb. Not again! Not after everything that’s happened. Not after what I saw last night. That man… Malakai.”

His eyes darken at the mention of the name, and I see a flash of emotion—anger, maybe, or guilt—cross his face. But he doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns away, prowling the length of the room, agitated.

“This is all about the money, isn’t it?” He pivots to me. “Women like you are… you’re feral. You’ll do anything to survive, including threatening other people’s livelihoods. Do you know how many people I’m responsible for? How many families Craven Industries supports? What you dug up yesterday could bring that crashing to the ground.”

His unexpected accusation makes the blood rise to my cheeks. “I have no intention of destroying your company, Caleb. Although, if you’re doing something dirty, that’s not on me. It’s on you.”

“People like you will justify anything if the check is big enough,” he sneers. “For some reason, I thought better of you. God knows why.” He runs a hand over his hair, ruffling it more. “I don’t even fucking know you, goddammit!”

“It wasn’t just about the money!” I suddenly hear myself saying. I don’t know what motivates me. Perhaps it’s the contempt in his eyes. Though really, I shouldn’t care less. “I… I did it for my mother.” The words are out before I can stop them.

“Your mother?” He faces me. “What does your mother have to do with this?”

Shit. Why did I even raise this? He’s going to think I’m pouring out some sort of sob story.

“Elena… What does your mother have to do with my company?” he presses.

“She… she disappeared when I was eight,” I say finally, my voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. “She told me she was going out one day, but she never came back. Just left me with some food and… and vanished.” My voice breaks. “When Blackthorn said…” I stop.

Caleb’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer. “Blackthorn said she was connected to Craven Industries?”

I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah. They said she knew the significance of the assignment. But I don’t know what that means. I don’t know anything about her connection to your company.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he studies me with that same intense gaze, as if he’s trying to piece together a puzzle.

“There’s a photo,” I add on impulse. “In your archives. A group of men—your great-grandfather, I think, and other executives. And there’s a woman standing with them. She looks just like my mom.”

He freezes, his expression hardening. “What are you implying?”

“I don’t know,” I say, my voice rising. “All I know is that there was a link between my family and yours somehow. And that means there’s something going on here that you’re not telling me. Something about Craven Industries—about your family—that’s connected to my mom.”

“It’s a coincidence,” he says firmly, but I can see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“A coincidence?” I snap, my temper flaring. “You expect me to believe that? After everything I’ve seen? After that thing I saw in the cellar? You think I’m just going to chalk this up to a coincidence ?”

He steps closer, his eyes intense. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Elena. You don’t know what’s at stake.”

“Then tell me!” I shout, my voice cracking. “Tell me what’s going on, Caleb! Because I’m tired of being in the dark. I’m tired of being afraid. My mother disappeared twenty years ago, and for the first time, I feel like I’m close to finding out what happened to her. And if Craven Industries has anything to do with it—if you have anything to do with it—I need to know.”

He stares at me, his expression unreadable, but I can see the conflict in his eyes. For a moment, I think he’s going to tell me the truth—whatever that truth might be. But then he shakes his head.

“Your mother’s disappearance has nothing to do with Craven Industries,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Elena, but you’re wrong.”

The anger in me dissolves into something else—something raw and aching. I think about my mom, about the photo in the archives, about the unanswered questions that have haunted me for years.

“What if she’s dead?” I whisper, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “What if she’s dead, and I never get to know what happened to her? What if she ran into… into a freak like I saw yesterday, and it killed her?” I bite back a sob.

Caleb hesitates, and for a moment, I see a shift in his expression—empathy, maybe, or understanding.

“I know what it feels like,” he says quietly, his voice softer now. “To lose a parent. My mother died giving birth to us. And my father…” He trails off.

I look up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. For the first time since I’ve known him, he doesn’t seem like the cold, calculating CEO. He seems… human.

We’re standing close now, closer than I realized, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. His scent—smoky and masculine—fills my senses, and I feel a sudden, inexplicable pull toward him.

Before I can stop myself, I reach up and touch his face, my fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. He stiffens, his eyes locking on mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stop.

And then he kisses me.

It’s not like the kisses before—rough and desperate, fueled by adrenaline and frustration. This is different. It’s slow, almost tender, a sweet exploration… and it sends a ripple of pleasure through my skin. His hands come up to cup my jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, and I melt into him.

I don’t know who deepens the kiss—maybe both of us—but suddenly, we’re pressed together, his body hard against mine, the ridge of his cock pressed against my belly, and I can’t think straight. His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me closer, and I feel a heat building inside me that I can’t ignore.

We stumble backward, still kissing, until the back of my legs hit the couch. He breaks the kiss long enough to pull my hoodie over my head, his hands skimming my bare arms, and then his mouth is on mine again, hot and demanding.

I push his jacket off his shoulders and then fumble with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers trembling. He helps me, shrugging it off and tossing it aside. His chest is bare now, his skin warm and smooth under my hands, and I can feel the hard planes of his muscles as I run my fingers over them.

There’s a wave of dark ink over his skin, the strange scale pattern I saw in the gloom of that room last night. A dragon that spans his chest and shoulder and trails down his back ripples as his muscles shift. I find myself wanting to trace those mesmerizing patterns, but I’m too busy admiring the lean perfection of his body.

He pushes me back onto the couch, his body following mine, and I gasp as his weight settles over me. His hands are everywhere—touching, caressing, driving me wild—and I arch into him, my breath coming in short gasps.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until he pulls back, his eyes dark with concern.

“Elena,” he murmurs, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Are you okay?”

I nod, my throat too tight to speak, and pull him back down to me. I don’t want to think—not about my mom, not about the vault, not about anything. I just want to feel.

He kisses me again, his lips firm and insistent, and I melt into him, my hands tangling in his hair. His hands slide under my tank top, his fingers warm and slightly rough as they trace the curve of my waist. I gasp as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin just below my ribs, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth with a hunger that makes me weak.

I tug at the waistband of his pants, my fingers trembling with anticipation, and he obliges, pulling them down and kicking them aside. His black briefs follow, and I can’t help but stare at the hard length of his cock. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s a thing of beauty. He steps closer, his hands sliding up my sides, and I feel the heat of his body even through the thin material of my tank top.

He pulls the shirt over my head, and I’m left in just my bra, the cool air brushing against my skin. His hands are everywhere, cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples through the lace, and I moan, moving into his touch. He unhooks my bra with practiced ease, and I feel a rush of cool air as it falls away, leaving me completely exposed to him.

His mouth finds my neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire as he works his way down to my collarbone. I can feel the scrape of his stubble against my skin, and it only heightens the sensation. His hands glide down to my hips, and he pulls me closer, grinding against me, and I can feel his rigid shaft pressing against my stomach. I spread my thighs, welcoming him between them.

“God, yes,” he moans against my skin.

I reach between us, my hand wrapping around his thickness, and he groans, his hips bucking into my touch. I stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety skin and the way he pulses in my hand. He’s so hard, so ready, and I can’t wait any longer. I guide him to me, sliding the thick head of his cock between my slick pussy lips. With a firm nudge, he slides into me with a groan, filling me completely.

The sensation is overwhelming, the way he stretches me, the way he feels so deep inside me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he starts to move, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that drives me wild.

“Oh… God! Caleb!” I cry out, my nails digging into his back, and he moans low in his throat, his forehead resting against mine. He moves slowly at first, his eyes locked on mine, and I can see the raw emotion in them—hunger, desire, a pure need that matches my own. His hands are on my hips, holding me steady as he fucks me, and I can feel the tension building inside me, coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust.

He leans down, capturing my lips in a searing kiss, and I can feel the way his body trembles with the effort of holding back. I know he’s close, and I’m right there with him, teetering on the edge of release. He reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit, and I cry out as the pleasure crashes over me, my body convulsing around him. As sensation washes over me, everything else falls away, and all I can feel is him. His body, his heat, the way he fills me. I’ve never felt anything like this before—never felt this connected to someone, this lost in them.

He follows me over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spills inside me, his groan muffled against my neck. We collapse together, our bodies still joined, and I can feel the way his heart races against mine. He kisses me softly, his lips gentle now as we both get our breath back. For a moment, we just lie there, tangled together, our hearts racing in unison. But as the haze of pleasure fades, reality comes flooding back in.

“What the hell was that?” I whisper, my voice shaking.

Caleb looks down at me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice hoarse.

I push him off me, scrambling to sit up and pull my clothes back on. My mind is reeling, my emotions a jumbled mess, and I can’t believe what just happened.

“This was a mistake,” I say, my voice trembling.

Caleb sits up, running a hand over his face, and I can see the frustration in his eyes. “Elena—”

“Don’t,” I snap, cutting him off. “Just… don’t. You can’t come in here, accuse me of lying, and then—and then—”

“And then what?” he demands, his voice rising. “Make you feel something? Forgive me for not being able to resist you, Elena, but you’re not exactly an easy woman to ignore.”

His words sting and I feel my cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. “Is that what this was? Some kind of distraction? Because if it was, it worked. Congratulations.”

Reaching for his pants, he tugs them on and then stands up, towering over me. I can see the anger in his eyes.

“You think that’s what this was? You think I just seduced you to shut you up?”

“I don’t know what to think, Caleb,” I shoot back, my voice breaking. “All I know is that you’re hiding something from me, and I can’t trust you.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw tight, and then he turns away, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on.

“You’re right,” he grinds out, his voice cold. “You can’t trust me.”

The words hit me like a slap, and I feel tears burn my eyes. I don’t know why his admission hurts so much, but it does.

“Get out,” I say, my voice trembling. “Just… get out.”

He doesn’t argue. He grabs his shoes and walks to the door, pausing for a moment to look back at me. “Elena—”

“I said get out,” I repeat, my voice cracking.

He hesitates, then nods and walks out, closing the door behind him.

I sink back onto the couch, my body still trembling, and bury my face in my hands. Am I completely nuts? I can’t believe I let him get to me like that. I can’t believe I let him touch me, kiss me, fuck me.

And yet… it was the best sex I’ve ever had.

I groan, pressing my hands to my face. I’m so screwed. In more ways than one.