Page 101 of Forged in Fire

The question hangs in the air longer than I expect. When Kieran answers, his voice is flat with self-loathing.

“Interrogations. Asset retrieval. I helped them track down other dragons, other families like ours.” He meets my eyes. “I was good at it. Shadow magic makes you excellent at infiltration, at going places you shouldn’t be able to reach.”

My stomach turns. Not because of what he did—the conditioning makes him a victim, not a villain—but because I can hear the guilt eating him alive.

“The worst part wasn’t what they did to me,” he says quietly. “It was knowing you were out there, and I couldn’t warn you about what I’d become. Couldn’t tell you to run, to hide, to stay away from me.”

“I never would have stayed away.” I put my hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “You know that, right?”

“I know. That’s what terrified me.” He turns back to the window. “In my clearer moments, I prayed you’d give up. Find something else to define yourself by. Someone else to love.”

I shake my head abruptly. “You’re my twin brother. You’re not replaceable.”

“No, but maybe I should have been.” His reflection in the glass looks haunted. “Maybe it would have been better for everyone if you’d let me go.”

“Stop!” I tighten my grip on his arm, then ease it quickly when he flinches. “Don’t you dare suggest that giving up on you was ever an option.”

“Even now? Even knowing what I’ve done?”

“Especially now.”

Kieran turns and stares at me for a long moment. Then something shifts in his expression—not quite hope, but not despair either.

“You’re different,” he observes. “Stronger. More… settled in yourself.”

I think about the past few days. About Riven and the bond I feel between us, about discovering depths to my abilities I never knew existed. About learning that sometimes the people worth saving are the ones standing beside you, not just the ones you’ve lost.

“Three years changes people.”

“What changed you?”

The question is simple. The answer isn’t.

I glance across the aisle at Riven, who’s been listening without intruding. His presence anchors me in ways I’m only beginning to understand. The connection hums between us, recognition and promise and something that feels like home.

“I learned that loving someone doesn’t make you weaker,” I say. “It makes you more yourself.”

Kieran follows my look toward Riven. “Ah. The assassin who tried to kill me.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Most worthwhile things are.” For the first time since we escaped the chamber, Kieran sounds like himself. Tired, damaged, but unmistakably my brother. “Does he make you happy?”

The question catches me off guard. In all my planning for this reunion, I never imagined we’d discuss my love life.

“When I’m not terrified of losing him, yes.”

“Good. You deserve happiness.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Even if I don’t.”

“You do.” I reach for his hand, careful not to startle him. His fingers are cold, still trembling slightly, but they don’t pull away. “It won’t be easy. Recovery never is. But you deserve a chance to rebuild.”

“Into what? I don’t remember who I was before they took me. Not really.”

“Then we figure out who you are now.”

The simple statement seems to surprise him. Like he expected judgment or demands to return to some previous version of himself.

“The twin bond,” I continue, squeezing his hand gently. “When I touched your mind in the chamber, it was still there. Different than before, maybe. Changed. But intact.”