Page 12 of Forged in Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #5)

I ris

Blood.

That’s the first thing that cuts through the shock—the metallic scent flooding my nostrils. I think of the guard who was reaching for me, now lying on the concrete. His eyes staring at nothing, a hole punched clean through his chest.

What the hell?

A second guard dropped before he could even raise his weapon. Then a third.

This is madness.

Shouting voices clash over each other as the remaining guards dive for whatever cover they can find behind equipment crates and metal barriers.

Searchlights sweep frantically across the compound perimeter, their beams cutting wild arcs through the darkness beyond the staging area’s harsh illumination.

“Contact north!” someone bellows. “Single shooter, elevated position!”

“Where’s the rest of the team?” Another voice, higher-pitched with panic.

My shadows respond to the violence and my own emotional turmoil, spiraling up from the ground in agitated streams that seem to drink the light around them. They move without my conscious direction, dark ribbons that coil and curl.

At that first shot, Kieran had frozen for exactly three heartbeats—long enough for me to see something crack across his face. Not the cold control he’s maintained since this nightmare began. Something rawer. More human.

Shock. He’s as stunned as I am.

But now he’s moving, shouting orders over the chaos. “Defensive positions! Maintain containment on the prisoner!”

Prisoner. He’s calling me a prisoner.

But even as he barks commands, I catch the way his eyes keep darting to where I’m standing. The way his body angles slightly toward me despite everything else falling apart around us.

Maybe there’s still something left of my brother after all.

Another rifle crack. Another guard down.

Kieran breaks from the cover he’d taken behind a supply crate. Instead of coordinating the defense like any competent commander would do, he runs.

Straight toward the main compound building.

“Kieran!” The word tears out of my throat before I can stop it.

He doesn’t even look back.

He’s abandoning the situation. Abandoning his people. Abandoning me.

The betrayal hits worse than anything that came before it—watching him leave me behind while his guards scramble to deal with whatever sniper is picking them off from the darkness. My shadows surge outward in response, darker and more aggressive than I’ve ever seen them.

No.

Not again.

I won’t lose him again.

Adrenaline floods my system, drowning out rational thought. Without realizing it, I’m moving. The commotion provides perfect cover—between the searchlights sweeping everywhere and the guards focused on finding their attacker, no one’s watching the so-called prisoner.

I melt into the shadows between equipment crates, letting my abilities carry me across the compound faster than running.

Behind me, the gunfire continues. Short, controlled bursts from the guards alternating with single, precise shots from whoever’s hunting them. But I’m already moving away, following the path Kieran took.

The main compound structure looms ahead—brutalist architecture designed more for function than aesthetics. Squat, ugly, built like a fortress.

“Kieran, wait, dammit!” I say under my breath, even though I know it’s pointless.

I reach the building’s entrance just as a figure in combat gear rounds the corner at a dead run.

He stops, sees me, and raises his rifle.

Time stands still. We stare at each other across twenty feet of muddy ground while more gunfire echoes from behind us. His finger’s on the trigger, weapon trained on my chest.

Why aren’t you moving, Iris!

“Please,” I say desperately, seeing his finger beginning to squeeze. “This is all a mistake!”

Before he can fire, his head snaps back, and he collapses. Blood spreads into the mud beneath him.

Someone is out there, and they just killed the man who was about to shoot me.

What the hell is happening?

I don’t have time to figure it out. Through the building’s entrance doors, I catch a glimpse of auburn hair disappearing around a corner inside.

Kieran.

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.

My brother.

“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.

“Kieran, what are you doing?” I ask without taking my eyes off the stranger.

“What I have to,” my brother says quietly. “I’m sorry, Iris. But you’ve made your choice clear.”

The beeping gets faster, more urgent. Somewhere in the building, I hear the distant sound of boots hitting the floor. Lots of boots.

Reinforcements incoming.

The stranger’s jaw tightens, and I catch a glimpse of something that might be regret in those arctic eyes.

It shouldn’t matter. He’s threatening my brother.

“Your loyalty is admirable,” he says quietly, and there’s an unexpected gentleness in his tone that does dangerous things to my pulse. “Also incredibly stupid.”

The sound of approaching footsteps grows thunderous. Multiple teams converging on our position from different directions. Whatever window we might have had for escape is closing fast.

“Last chance,” the stranger says, and there’s an odd edge to his voice now. Like my answer matters to him in ways that go beyond tactical considerations.

I shake my head. “I’m not—”

His hand moves faster than I can track. Something strikes the side of my neck—precise pressure that sends lightning through my nervous system. But not before I catch his scent, something wild and untamed that makes my dragon stir in ways I don’t understand.

This shouldn’t feel familiar.

The world spins. My shadows scatter as my concentration breaks, dissolving back into ordinary darkness.

Pressure point.

Some kind of martial arts technique designed to disrupt neural function. Not just martial arts; there’s magic too. Something I can’t fight.

He’s not human.

“You—” I start, but the word comes out slurred. My legs give out, and I’m falling toward the floor.

Strong arms catch me before I hit it, and the contact sends a shock through my system that has nothing to do with the nerve strike. The stranger’s face hovers above mine, and for just a second, I see something that might be genuine remorse in those cold blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “But I won’t let you die for someone who’s already lost.”

Behind him, Kieran’s voice sounds distant and distorted: “Security teams to Corridor C. Intruders contained.”

Contained. Not rescued.

I never got through to him.

The stranger lifts me easily, and I want to fight, want to call my shadows back and tear him apart for taking this choice away from me. But my body won’t obey my commands. Whatever he did is shutting down my motor control systematically.

“Bastard,” I try to say even as betrayal burns me.

This stranger is saving me from my own flesh and blood.

The irony would be funny if my heart wasn’t breaking.

Shouts ring out, and my stomach lurches as the stranger hefts me higher, then spins on his heel and bolts.

My last conscious thought is of my brother’s eyes, cold and hard.

Maybe there’s still something left to save in Kieran. Maybe there isn’t.

Either way, I have far bigger problems to deal with.