Page 29 of Forged in Fire

I push through the doors and into a sterile corridor lined with unmarked doors. The lighting feels harsh after the compound’s dramatic shadows, but it shows me exactly what I need to see—wet footprints leading deeper into the building.

My brother’s trail.

I follow it past administrative offices and empty rooms, my soft-soled boots leaving muddy prints on the polished floor. Behind me, the sound of gunfire grows more distant. Ahead of me, the footprints turn left at a T-junction.

I round the corner and there he is.

Kieran stands with his back to me, maybe thirty feet down the corridor. His shoulders rise and fall like he’s trying to catch his breath, one hand braced against the wall for support.

“Kieran, please!”

The words burst out of me before I can think them through. He turns, and for just a moment—one perfect, heartbreaking moment—I see my brother’s face. Not the cold stranger who’s been giving orders and talking about taking prisoners.

Mybrother.

“This is your chance,” I continue, stepping closer. “We can get out of here together. Whatever hold they have on you, whatever they’ve done—we can figure it out. We can fix it.”

His eyes meet mine, and I see conflict flicker across his features. Real emotion breaking through whatever conditioning or programming they’ve subjected him to.

Hope flares in my chest.

“Iris.” My name sounds different when he says it this way. Softer. Like he’s remembering what it means to love someone.

“Remember the hideout we built in the old oak tree?” I take another step forward, hands raised to show I’m not a threat. “You carved our initials in the trunk with Dad’s knife. Said it would last forever, that we’d always have each other no matter what.”

Something shifts in his expression. Pain, maybe. Or recognition.

“You taught me that family means never fighting alone,” I continue. “That we’re stronger together than apart. That love isn’t weakness—it’s the only thing worth fighting for.”

Kieran’s hands shake slightly. His mouth opens like he’s going to say something.

Then footsteps echo behind me.

Heavy, deliberate, military-precise. I spin around to find a man standing at the far end of the corridor—tall, dark hair, pale blue eyes that seem to take in everything about me in a single glance. He’s armed, weapon trained on Kieran instead of me, and there’s something lethal in the way he moves.

He’s going to kill him!

“No!” The word tears out of my throat as I realize what’s happening. “Don’t!”

Without thinking, I step between them. My shadows respond instantly, creating a barrier of living darkness that obscures the stranger’s line of sight to my brother.

The man’s eyes narrow, and something electric passes between us—a recognition that has nothing to do with familiarity and everything to do with something deeper, something inexplicable. My shadows respond to his presence in ways they never have before, twisting with an energy that feels almost… hungry.

What the hell?

“Move aside.” His voice is rough velvet, the kind that could probably talk its way into any woman’s bed. Not mine. Definitely not mine.

“Like hell.” But even as the words leave my mouth, I’m fighting the strangest urge to step closer instead of farther away. My shadows pulse around me, feeding off whatever this charged atmosphere is. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not killing my brother.”

“I said move!” Those pale blue eyes rake over me with an intensity that makes my skin warm in ways that have nothing to do with my dragon heritage. “You’re in the way of the target.”

“Target?” I snap. “That’s my twin brother, you bastard. If you want to get to him, you’ll have to come through me first.”

Something shimmers in his expression. Surprise? Respect? Amusement? I don’t give a fuck what it is. I jut out my jaw and square off, trying not to be intimidated by the fact that I’m looking down the barrel of a gun.

Behind me, I hear Kieran moving. Not running—something else. A soft beeping sound that makes my blood run cold.

An alarm. He’s triggering some kind of security alert.