Page 10 of Forged in Fire

But looking at Elena’s earnest face, at Mara’s genuine concern, I realize they’re right about one thing: going alone would be suicide. And suicide won’t save Kieran.

“You’re right,” I say finally. “I know you’re right. It’s just… the waiting is killing me. Especially now that I know he’s out there… alive. And I know where he is.”

Elena stands and moves toward me, her expression softening. “I know. But this time is different, Iris. This time, we have real information, real coordinates. This time we’re going to bring him home.”

“All of us,” Mara adds. “Like some kind of badass supernatural rescue squad.”

Despite everything, I smile. “When you put it like that…”

“Plus,” Elena adds, “you’ll need me there to navigate the historical significance of whatever we find. And you’ll need Mara to hack whatever security systems they’ve got.”

“And document everything for posterity,” Mara says solemnly, which is unlike her. “This is definitely going in my memoirs.”

They stay for another hour, Elena transferring copies of her research files to a flash drive for me to study, Mara regaling us with increasingly outlandish theories about what we might find in an ancient dragon king’s tomb. By the time they leave, I’m almost convinced that waiting for Viktor’s expedition is the right choice.

“Promise us you won’t do anything reckless,” Elena says at the door.

“Define reckless,” I reply, which earns me a stern look.

“Promise,” Mara insists. “Scout’s honor and everything.”

“I promise to wait for the team,” I say, because it’s what they need to hear.

After they leave, I stand at my window watching the night fall over the mountains.

The twin bond pulses again, stronger now. Not quite the connection we once shared, but something. A thread of awareness, a whisper of need. He’s alive. He’s there. And he’s running out of time. I just know it.

I study Elena’s files on my laptop, memorizing terrain maps and energy readings. The satellite images show dense forest giving way to rocky peaks, caves that tunnel deep into the earth. Somewhere in that maze of stone and darkness, Kieran waits.

The dragon fire under my skin burns hotter as I plan. Not Viktor’s careful expedition with its committees and contingencies. Something faster. More direct.

It’s madness, and I know it.

But I don’t care.

I pull out my phone and start researching flights to Bucharest. The next one leaves at midnight—enough time to finish preparations. My gear is already laid out. I’ll convert my emergency cash to euros when I get there. The flash drive with Elena’s research goes into a waterproof case.

I change into operational clothing and check my weapons one final time, shadows responding to my rising determination. This is who I’ve become: not the girl who fled that night, but the woman who learned to fight, to hunt, to survive.

The woman who’s going to bring him home.

I sling my pack over my shoulder and take one last look around the apartment. The waiting is finally over.

Time to go to work.

Chapter 4

Riven

The Ducati’s engine snarls beneath me, all twelve hundred cc of German fury eating up the mountain road like it’s starved for asphalt. I lean into the curves, feeling the machine respond to each micro-adjustment of weight and throttle. The rental cost more than most people see in half a year. Worth every euro.

If I have to go into the middle of nowhere to take out a target, I may as well add a few creature comforts.

Cold cuts through my leather bike jacket, sharp and crisp. The Carpathians don’t fuck around—even in early fall, the wind carries teeth. I taste snow and pine, but underneath lurks something else. Something that shouldn’t exist at this elevation. Ancient. Hungry.

Heat stirs beneath my ribs. My breath mists up my visor.

Pay attention.