Page 36 of Forged in Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #5)

I ris

The cave walls pulse with veins of blue-white light. Ancient. Beautiful. Wrong. Every instinct I have screams at me to run from whatever lies sleeping in the depths below.

But Kieran’s down there.

“Visual on the ritual chamber,” I whisper into my comm, crouched beside Riven at the cave mouth. “Multiple heat signatures. They’ve started the ceremony.”

Viktor’s voice crackles through static. “Elena, status from overwatch?”

“Scanning now.” Elena’s reply is tight with focus. Even from her position above, she can feel the power building down here. Her Rossewyn blood makes her sensitive to this kind of magic. “Wait—movement from the east. Armed vehicles approaching fast.”

My dragon senses prick with warning. “That’s not reinforcements.”

“No,” Riven agrees grimly. “Wrong approach pattern. Someone else knows about this place.”

Elena’s sharp intake of breath carries across the comm. “I just got a look at their command vehicle. Fuck. I know that face. That’s Malakai Steele. He’s here.”

“Are you certain?” Riven asks.

“Of course I’m certain,” she snaps. “That bastard had me tied up for hours. Nearly fucking killed me. Do you think I’d forget?”

Riven has the good sense to remain silent.

“Circle of Fire,” Viktor’s voice hardens with recognition. “This just became a three-way fight.”

The chanting from below grows louder, the pitch becoming almost frantic. Ancient words in a language that makes my shadows surge without permission.

They’re accelerating the ritual.

“We move now,” I tell Riven. “Before this gets worse.”

But explosions from the eastern passages cut off any response.

Gunfire erupts through the chamber complex. Shouts in multiple languages, the crack of supernatural abilities meeting stone as dragon fire bursts through the air. The Circle of Fire isn’t here for subtle infiltration—they’re making a statement.

“New plan,” Viktor commands through the chaos. “Use the distraction. Get to Kieran while they’re focused on each other.”

I’m already moving, flitting through the shadows as I slip deeper into the mountain. Riven matches my pace, his presence steady at my back. Whatever’s happening between the Circle and the Syndicate, it’s buying us the opening we need.

The main chamber opens before us—vast, impossible, carved from living rock that holds its own light. Glowing crystal conduits run through walls and ceiling, all coming together on a central dais where—

“There.” My voice breaks on the word.

Kieran stands in the ritual circle, hands raised, darkness flowing from his fingers to feed the ancient magic building around a stone platform on which a huge statue of a man is lying.

He looks exactly as I remember and nothing like himself at all.

Same face, same eyes, but the way he holds himself belongs to someone else.

Someone who learned to survive by becoming whatever they needed him to be.

Someone willing to hand me over to the enemy.

Someone in a trance.

Beyond him, a tall, lean man in an expensive suit directs the ceremony—sharp jawline, perfectly groomed dark hair, authority that radiates from his every gesture.

He’s wearing a carved black mask and he’s instructing my brother, while a circle of robed figures circle them like something out a freakish horror movie.

“Elena,” I breathe into my comm. “Need identification on the Syndicate leader. There’s a guy here who could be in charge of this thing.”

“What does he look like?”

“Tall, dark hair, mask, expensive suit. Which is just ridiculous. Who wears a suit to an underground dragon ritual?”

“Roland Vex, would be my guess, if Vanya’s latest intel is anything to go by. Ivory League; traditionally, they mask themselves. Extremely dangerous.”

The name means nothing to me, but the way he’s using my brother means everything.

“Wait here. I’m going in,” I tell Riven.

“Like hell you are.” His voice carries an edge I’ve never heard before—protective, possessive, absolute. “We go together.”

“There’s no cover for two people. I can shadow-walk past their defenses.”

“Iris—”

“I’m the only one who can reach him unseen.” I’m already gathering shadows around me. “Cover my extraction route.”

But before he can argue further, a massive explosion rocks the eastern wall. Circle forces have breached the chamber perimeter, and chaos erupts around us.

“Go!” Riven shouts, dragon fire erupting from his hands as Circle operatives pour through the breach. “I’ll hold them back!”

I shadow-walk across the chamber, darkness carrying me past the sudden three-way battle toward the ritual circle. Toward the brother I’ve searched for across three years and half a dozen countries.

Behind me, I hear Riven’s roar of fury as more Circle fighters engage him. The sound tears at something in my chest, but I force myself forward.

I make it halfway before Vex notices me.

Magic. He must have some kind of magic to see through my defenses.

“Fascinating,” he says, studying my approach with clinical interest. “The infamous twin sister. Right on schedule.”

Schedule?

The word hits me wrong, sets off every alarm I’ve learned to trust. This isn’t an unexpected complication—they’ve been hoping I’d come.

“Let him go.” My shadows surge, responding to rage that threatens to consume rational thought. “Whatever you want, it doesn’t require torturing him.”

It’s a desperate request, but I’m out of options.

“On the contrary.” Vex gestures to the surrounding operatives, who move to flank my position. “Everything requires his absolute cooperation. And yours.”

The circle of soldiers closes around me before I can react. Not to kill—to capture. Binding spells designed specifically for shadow magic, restraints that cut me off from the darkness that’s defined me since childhood.

Pain shoots through my nervous system as the bindings lock into place. It’s like losing a sense, like being struck blind and deaf simultaneously.

The moment the wards snap into place around me, something in my chest explodes.

Not pain—connection. Raw, overwhelming, impossible connection that makes every nerve ending catch fire. My heart hammers against my ribs so hard I can’t breathe, can’t focus, can’t do anything except feel Riven’s absolute terror as he realizes I’m trapped.

His terror. Not my own. His emotions flooding through me like they belong in my veins.

“No!” Riven’s roar echoes across the chamber, but I feel it from the inside too. Feel his rage and desperation and the way his dragon fire builds to levels that could melt steel.

Mate bond.

The words slam into me with terrifying certainty. That’s what this is—the connection every dragon dreams of and fears in equal measure. The recognition that goes deeper than choice, deeper than logic, deeper than everything I thought I knew about myself.

My chest burns like someone carved out my heart and replaced it with molten metal. Every breath tastes of smoke and fury—his smoke, his fury, bleeding through a bond I never saw coming. Why didn’t I see it coming? Everything has been pointing to it.

“Impossible,” I breathe, but even as I say it, I know it’s not. Dragon and dragon-touched. Unconventional but not impossible.

“Take her to the secondary circle,” Vex commands, clearly ready for my arrival. “She’ll speed things up.” He looks around us, seemingly calculating how much time he has before the attackers arrive.

They drag me toward a smaller ritual space carved into the chamber wall, and every step away from Riven feels like tearing flesh from bone. The mate bond stretches between us, singing with pain and promise and absolute certainty that we belong together.

Ancient symbols pulse with recognition as they sense my ancestry. The same bloodline that makes Kieran valuable as a conduit—traces of connection to power that’s slept here for four centuries.

Behind me, combat intensifies as Circle forces press deeper into Syndicate territory.

The air crackles with magic. Blood-curdling growls tell me some are tapping into their dragon powers.

And through it all, I can sense Riven like he’s part of my soul.

Feel his rage and frustration as he fights toward me.

He’ll die trying to reach me. I sense that too, as clearly as if it’s my own thought.

This changes everything. The bond, the recognition, the way his desperation feeds my strength—I’m not the same person who walked into this mountain. And I never even realized what was happening.

God, you’re such an idiot, Iris!

“I’ll let you have your powers back if you tap into the circle, Iris,” Vex instructs me. I stare at him in horror, realizing he expects me to channel my shadows into the ritual.

“Go to hell!” I snarl back at him. “I’ll die first.”

Vex produces a ceremonial dagger, its blade gleaming with dark enchantments. “Your cooperation, Miss Asguard, or your brother loses his hand. Slowly.”

“No!” I strain against the bindings, desperate to protect Kieran, to tear this bastard apart. But I’m helpless against the wards.

“Please,” I say desperately, hating myself for the word. “Don’t hurt him.”

But something in Kieran’s face stops me from surrendering completely. His eyes—they’re not the cold, calculating stare from the compound. There’s pain there. Desperation. And beneath the Syndicate conditioning, something that looks like…

Warning.

Ember’s words echo in my memory: I’m sorry. He says ‘I’m sorry.’

Kieran’s power continues flowing into the ritual circle, feeding the ancient magic that pulses through the chamber. But his gaze flicks toward something behind Vex—a slight movement, barely perceptible.

A message.

“I won’t—” I start to refuse, and Vex raises the dagger.

The chamber explodes into madness as Circle forces breach the ritual space, dragon fire erupting from multiple directions at once.

“Stop them!” Vex roars at his guards. “Another minute. We need more time.” He spins to face me. “Do as I say, bitch!”