Page 86 of Forged in Fire

“The Circle of Fire wants Kieran dead?” Viktor frowns. “That doesn’t align with their usual targets.”

“Do you have any idea of his motives?” asks Caleb.

“I don’t have access to that information,” I say. “The Guild doesn’t ask questions.”

“Then what’s your motive for bringing this to us?” Caleb’s eyes narrow on me.

“I figured you should know that this is a high-value target,” I say. “Not just another Syndicate prisoner.”

“So that we’d be more likely to risk an extraction?” says Caleb. “Like a certain redhead has been pushing for?”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“As it turns out, we’d already determined this,” Viktor interjects. “We’re planning to get him out of there. It’s just a matter of when.”

“The sooner, the better,” I say firmly.

“Of course,” says Caleb, still eyeing me with suspicion.

Viktor stands, moving to study the displays. Ancient maps overlay satellite imagery, showing cave systems and underground waterways. “We’ve been surveilling the region since we pinpointed his location. Not an easy rescue if he’s moving to the Sleeping King’s resting place. The chamber would be hidden deep in the mountains. Protected by four hundred years of magic and natural barriers.”

“And guarded by whatever the Syndicate has stationed there,” Caleb adds.

“I’m aware of that,” I say. “But I’m convinced that this would be more than a rescue mission. The Syndicate has plans for him.”

“You’re right,” says Viktor, glancing at Caleb. “We’ve determined that the Asguard asset has power that they’re planning to use.”

“What kind of power?” I ask, though I’m beginning to develop a suspicion.

The door opens before anyone can respond. Footsteps in the corridor—two sets, one light and quick, the other measured and deliberate. I recognize the rhythm before I see her.

Iris.

Her presence fills the room before she even enters it. My senses tingle, alert to her movements.

She takes in the screens, the intelligence reports, the three of us gathered together.

Then she locks her eyes on me.

The temperature drops ten degrees. Not magic—just the weight of her displeasure hitting the air. Behind her, a younger woman stands, looking slightly apologetic.

“Gentlemen,” Iris says, voice honey over steel. “Having a strategy meeting?”

Viktor clears his throat. “Iris. We were gathering intelligence—”

“About my brother, I assume. Without me.” She steps into the room. “How thoughtful.”

I see the moment she clocks the scattered photos, the tactical assessments, the operational plans already taking shape on the display screens. Her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

“Hello, Riven,” she says coolly, eyes fixed on mine. “I’m surprised to see you here… after you left so suddenly.”

The unspoken question hangs between us. How could I leave without a word after what we’d shared?

“I had business to attend to,” I say, aware of the curious looks from the others.

“At the crack of dawn?” Her voice is dangerously quiet.

“Yes,” I say, unaccustomed to having to answer to anyone other than Guild members. This is new territory for me.