Page 60 of Forged in Fire

“I’m serious, dammit!”

“I’m sorry, hon.” Elena sighs, and I can picture her running her hands through her dark hair the way she does when she’s working through a problem. “Obviously, we’ll come for you. I’ll send you details tonight about where and when.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I still have to break the news to Caleb. And you know what he’s like.” She huffs. “He’s going to shit a brick.”

The call ends, leaving me alone with the afternoon silence and the quiet sounds of Riven’s methodical weapon maintenance. I set the phone aside and realize he’s watching me, dark eyes unreadable.

“Your friend is smart,” he says. “Cautious.”

“Yes, she is.” I lean back against the couch cushions, suddenly exhausted. “She doesn’t trust you.”

“She shouldn’t.” He sets down the rifle and begins reassembling his sidearm, hands moving dexterously. “I need to go out for a while,” he says, abruptly changing the subject.

“What? Why?” I’m surprised at how unsettled that makes me feel. Like I don’t want him to leave me.

“I have business to handle before tomorrow. You should rest.”

“What kind of business?”

“The kind that’s better handled alone.”

There it is again—that protective instinct that both frustrates and warms me. He’s trying to shield me from whatever ugly necessities his world requires, even though I’ve proven I can handle myself in ugly situations.

“How long will you be gone?” I suddenly feel like an insecure girlfriend.

“Few hours.” He holsters the weapon and stands, moving with that smooth strength that makes my pulse quicken. “Try to get some sleep. It’s been a rough day. Tomorrow’s going to be… complicated.”

He’s almost to the door when I call out. “Riven.”

He pauses, hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t turn around.

“Be careful.”

“Always am.”

Then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the quiet room with my churning thoughts and the fading scent of leather and gunpowder.

The space feels larger without Riven’s presence, emptier somehow. And suddenly I’m overwhelmed by a hollowness that I thought I’d grown accustomed to during the years I’ve been trying to find Kieran. Although this is different somehow. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.

Get over yourself, Iris.

I walk to the bathroom, strip off my clothes, and step into the shower. I groan as I let hot water cascade over tired muscles and wash away the last traces of adrenaline. The heat feels good, melting away tension I’ve been carrying since this whole nightmare began.

The water runs over my shoulders, and I close my eyes, trying to make sense of the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning, I thought I knew exactly who I was—Iris Asguard, dragon shifter, woman on a mission to save her twin brother. Simple. Clear-cut.

Now? Everything’s sideways.

Kieran’s face when he chose them over me keeps replaying behind my eyelids. I’ve spent so long searching, hoping,believing he was waiting for me to come for him. And I was wrong.

But it’s not just Kieran that has me reeling.

It’shim. Riven.

I’ve never needed anyone before. Never felt this… pull toward another person. Even as a child, Kieran and I were close because we’re twins—that bond was natural, expected. But this thing with Riven makes no sense. He’s an assassin, for crying out loud. Someone I should fear, not feel drawn to.

Yet when he left just now, part of me wanted to follow. To stay close to whatever this thing is between us.