Page 19 of Fated by Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #1)

Chapter 19

C aleb

The city shrinks beneath us as I carry Elena higher into the night sky, her unconscious form secure in my talons. Her scent—wild thunderstorm and rain—mingles with the crisp air at this altitude, stirring unfamiliar feelings in me. I hadn’t planned on revealing myself like this, but when I saw the Enforcer’s hands on her, something in me snapped.

The Syndicate. Of course it was the fucking Syndicate. Using Blackthorn as a front. The Enforcer doesn’t freelance for anyone—he’s their personal lapdog.

I bank toward the mountains, where I keep a secluded cabin for emergencies. It’s warded and protected—one of the few places I can be sure they won’t find us. Elena stirs in my grip, and I tighten my hold carefully, mindful of my claws. The last thing I need is for her to wake up mid-flight and start panicking.

The cabin comes into view, a dark silhouette against the moonlit forest. I circle once, checking for any signs of pursuit, before descending into the clearing. The moment my claws touch the ground, I feel the wards activate—a subtle ripple of ancient magic that shields us from prying eyes.

Gently, I lay Elena on the soft grass. The shift back to human form is quick but painful—bones realigning, scales retracting, wings folding into skin. It’s a reminder of how rarely I do this—shift into my dragon form. Dorian was right. I haven’t paid enough attention to my own happiness. I’ve lost touch with my true nature. The beast within me.

By the time I’m done, I’m breathing heavily, my skin slick with sweat. I grab the spare clothes I keep stashed in the cabin’s exterior lockbox and dress quickly.

Elena’s still unconscious, her face pale in the moonlight. I lift her carefully, noting how small she feels in my arms now, and carry her inside. The cabin is sparse but comfortable—a living area with a fireplace and bed against the wall, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. I lay her on the bed, pulling a blanket over her.

“What am I going to do with you?” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

The answer, of course, is complicated. She’s seen too much. She knows too much. And now the Syndicate wants her—which means she’s more important than I initially thought.

I take a minute to get a fire burning in the hearth, the flickering flames taking the cold edge off the air in the small space.

When I turn back, she’s still unmoving, but a low groan escapes her lips, and her eyelids flutter. I step back, steeling myself for what’s to come. Her gray eyes open slowly, confusion clouding them before recognition—and fear—sets in.

This is going to be interesting.

Elena bolts upright, her eyes wild as she takes in her surroundings. Her hand flies to her throat, where a silver locket rests, and I can hear her heart hammering—a rapid staccato that sets my dragon on edge.

“Where am I?” she demands, her voice hoarse. “What happened? There was—there was something…” Her eyes lock onto mine, and I see the moment realization hits. The blood drains from her face. “Oh, God. Oh, my fucking God!”

“Elena—” I step forward, but she scrambles back on the bed until she hits the headboard.

“Stay back!” she shouts, her voice cracking. “You… you’re… I saw…” She presses her hands to her temples. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”

I remain still, keeping my voice calm and steady. “You’re safe. That’s what matters right now.”

“Safe?” She lets out a hysterical laugh. “Safe? I was just kidnapped by some psycho who knows something about my mother, then snatched up by a— a—” She chokes on the word.

“A dragon,” I finish for her. My voice is quiet but firm. No point in dancing around it now.

“You…” She licks her lips, her head moving from side to side. “Where did it go?” she whispers, though I have a feeling she knows the answer.

“You’re looking at ‘it,’” I tell her.

She stares at me, her eyes huge in her pale face. “You’re not real. None of this is real. I’m having some kind of mental breakdown.”

“I assure you, this is very real.” I move closer, ignoring her flinch. “And right now, you need to listen to me carefully. The people who tried to take you—they’re part of an organization called the Syndicate. They’re dangerous, Elena. More dangerous than you can imagine.”

“More dangerous than a man who turns into a dragon?” she shoots back, but I hear the tremor in her voice.

“Yes,” I say simply. “Because they’re dragons, too. And they want something from you—something that could destroy everything I’ve spent centuries protecting.”

“Centuries?” She shakes her head violently. “No. No, this is insane. You’re insane. I need to get out of here.”

She moves to get up, but I’m faster. I catch her arm, careful not to grip too hard. “Elena, stop. Think. Where are you going to go? The Syndicate knows who you are now. They’ll find you.”

“Let go of me!” She yanks her arm away but doesn’t try to run. Instead, she stares at me, her chest heaving. “Why did you save me? Why not just let them take me?”

The question catches me off guard. Why did I save her? Because she’s important to whatever the Syndicate is planning? Because she might be connected to the Heartstone? Or because the thought of that bastard’s hands on her made my dragon want to tear him apart?

“I don’t know,” I admit finally. “But I do know that you’re caught up in something bigger than both of us. And right now, whether you like it or not, I’m your best chance at survival.”

She laughs again, but it’s a hollow sound. “Right. Because I should totally trust the guy who’s been lying to me since day one.”

“I never lied about who I am,” I counter. “I just… omitted certain details.”

“Like the fact that you’re a mythological creature?”

I can’t help but smile slightly. “We prefer ‘ancient species,’ actually.”

“This isn’t funny, Caleb!” But some of the hysteria has left her voice, replaced by something closer to her usual sharp wit.

“No,” I agree, sobering. “It’s not. But it is reality, Elena. My reality. And now, it’s yours, too.”

“Shit.” She scrubs a hand over her face. “Holy shit. I fucked a dragon.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I cock my head. “Was it?” It’s not the most appropriate time to raise the topic, but I find myself wondering.

“No… I…” She shakes her head. “I can’t think about that right now.”

I guess she’s right, so I say nothing.

She’s quiet for a long moment, her fingers absently tracing the outline of her locket. Finally, she looks up at me, her expression hard. “Tell me everything. No more omissions. No more half-truths. I want to know exactly what I’m dealing with.”

I study her face, seeing the determination there despite her fear. She’s stronger than I gave her credit for. Or maybe just more stubborn.

“Alright,” I say, settling into a chair across from the bed. “But I warn you—once you know the truth, there’s no going back.”

She lifts her chin, defiant even now. “I’m already in too deep to go back. So start talking.”

I take a deep breath, preparing to unravel centuries of secrets. “Dragons have existed since before human civilization,” I begin, watching Elena’s face carefully. She’s still tense, but her natural curiosity seems to be winning out over her fear. “We were here when the first humans learned to make fire—ironically, they learned it from us.”

“From you?” She draws her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “How old are you, exactly?”

“I’m relatively young for a dragon. Only three hundred and twelve.”

She makes a choking sound. “Only three hundred—? Jesus Christ.”

“My father lived to be nearly a thousand before…” I trail off, the memory still raw. “We’re essentially immortal, barring violence or illness. It’s one of the reasons we’ve managed to accumulate so much wealth over the centuries.”

“Is that why you’re all rich?” Her eyes narrow. “The Forbes 500 is just a dragon’s who’s who?”

I can’t help but smile. “Not all of them. But more than you’d think. We’re collectors by nature—gold, jewels, art. In the modern era, that translated to corporations, real estate, investments.”

“Dragon hoards,” she says slowly. “Like in the stories.”

“Exactly. Though these days, we prefer diversified portfolios to caves full of gold.”

She snorts, and for a moment, I see a flash of her usual spirit.

“So what happened? Why hide? I mean, you’re literally dragons. Couldn’t you just…” She waves her hand vaguely.

“Burn everything to the ground?” I finish dryly. “We tried that approach. It didn’t end well. As human weapons evolved—especially after the Industrial Revolution—we realized we needed to adapt or face extinction.”

“But surely nothing could hurt…?” She gestures at me, presumably referring to my dragon form.

“You’d be surprised. A medieval arrow might bounce off our scales, but modern artillery? Anti-aircraft weapons? Nuclear capabilities? We may be powerful, but we’re not invincible.”

Elena’s quiet for a moment, processing. “So you went corporate instead.”

“It was that or die out. We integrated into human society, used our accumulated wealth and knowledge to build legitimate enterprises. Some of us adapted better than others.” I think of Malakai, of the Circle of Fire, of all those who yearn for the old ways.

“The ones who chose tradition over adaptation paid for it with their lives.” My voice grows quieter as I continue, “The Syndicate is made up of those who lost everything—their clans, their territories, their birthrights. And now they want revenge.”

Elena’s eyes widen. “The Syndicate?”

“That’s who hired you. Through Blackthorn.” I’ve just put the pieces together myself, but it makes absolute sense. And it explains why we were able to take over NyxCorp so easily. Amalgamating our companies would have given the Syndicate a way in to Craven with enough layers between us to never be detected.

Slimy fuckers.

I continue, “They’ve been trying to infiltrate Craven Industries for years. And now, with you…”

“With me what?” She leans forward, her eyes intense. “What makes me so special?”

“You could get them close to the Heartstone.”

“The Heartstone is the big shiny rock in the vault, right?”

I snort. “It’s not a big shiny rock. It’s our one true power. The force that binds us. Fuels us. Without it, we would lose everything.”

“Holy shit. An important rock, then. But why would I be able to get to it? I didn’t even know any of this existed until now.” Her brows pull together.

Good question.

I study her face, theories swirling around in my head. Why her? Why would this woman be able to connect to the Heartstone? Why has it started behaving erratically? Unless…

No. It can’t be… Can it?

It can’t be coincidence. There’ve been too many of those lately.

“Rossewyn,” I murmur.

Elena frowns at the name, her hand going to her locket yet again. “Rossewyn?”

Something clicks in my mind—a possibility I hadn’t considered. “Your mother’s name was also Ross, wasn’t it?”

“Well, duh, obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “She was my mom, right?”

“Yes, but I mean, she never took your father’s name?” I press.

She shakes her head. “Asshole didn’t deserve it. I never even knew him.”

“So Ross was your grandmother’s name.” I don’t say it as a question. My theory is beginning to solidify.

“I guess,” she says slowly. “Where are you going with this?”

I take another breath, preparing for another history lesson. “For centuries, the Craven Clan has been held to an ancient oath sworn by our last king. The Oath of Fire.”

“Sounds serious.” She pulls a face.

“We’re a serious species.” I fix her with a stare. “Anyway, the oath came about after a witch—”

“A freaking witch now?”

“Yes, a witch, Elena. A witch who had fallen in love with our last king, Kael Craven, gave her life to protect the Heartstone from our enemies.”

“Must have been really nuts about the guy.”

“True love is like that,” I deadpan. “Anyway, Kael was broken-hearted. In honor of her sacrifice, he swore that he and the Craven Clan would defend the descendants of her line for all eternity.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Not really, when you’re immortal. And we take our oaths seriously.”

“Not much of a responsibility if she was dead. What descendants could she have had?”

“Lyria may have been gone, but her brother Tavain went on to live a long, healthy life. And he fathered many children. They became our wards.” I don’t add that we’ve since lost track of them.

“Sheesh.” She huffs a breath. “Okay, this is all really interesting. But I’m still not getting it.”

“You’re a Rossewyn, Elena,” I say seriously because suddenly, this is feeling like one of the most important things I’ve ever uncovered.

“What? No. That makes no sense.” A deep groove has formed between her eyebrows.

“Names change over time. Especially when people are trying to hide their heritage.” I lean forward, studying her face. “It would explain how you got into the vault. Why the Heartstone reacted to you.”

“No.” She shakes her head violently. “No, that’s impossible. I’m not—I can’t be—”

“A descendant of the most powerful witch in dragon history?” I raise an eyebrow. “Why not? It would explain a lot about your… abilities.”

She stares at me, her eyes wide with shock and something else—recognition, maybe. Understanding.

“You do have abilities, don’t you, Elena?” I’m pushing her now.

She nods slowly. “The dreams,” she whispers. “The way I just know things sometimes. My mom used to say I had good instincts, but…”

“But they’re more than instincts, aren’t they?”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t have to. I can see the truth of it in her face.

“Well,” she says finally, her voice shaky but determined. “I guess that explains why I’ve always been terrible at relationships. Hard to connect with someone when you’re apparently part-witch, part-whatever the hell this is.”

Despite everything, I find myself laughing. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Hey, a girl has priorities.” But there’s fear behind her attempt at humor. “So what happens now?”

I sober, knowing what I have to say next won’t be easy for either of us. “Now? Now we figure out what the Syndicate is planning. And we keep you alive long enough to do it.”