Page 38 of Forged in Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #5)

I ris

The jet’s cabin hums with the steady thrum of engines carrying us home. Thirty-five thousand feet above Europe, and I feel untethered. Not from the ground—from everything I thought I knew about myself.

Viktor, Caleb, and Elena have retreated to the forward cabin with other members of the Aurora Collective team, giving us space that feels both precious and terrifying.

Their voices drift back occasionally, discussing logistics and next steps.

Normal sounds that belong to a world where ancient kings don’t sleep beneath mountains and brothers don’t come back broken.

Riven sits across the narrow aisle, close enough that I’m aware of him, but not too close to intrude. He hasn’t spoken since we boarded, but his eyes track my every movement. The bond pulses between us—stronger now, undeniable—but I can’t focus on what it means. Not yet.

Kieran occupies the window seat beside me, staring at clouds that look like cotton wool balls. His hands rest in his lap, fingers trembling whenever he unthreads them.

I don’t know how to reach him.

“The engines sound different,” he says suddenly. His voice is quiet, uncertain. Not the cold command tone from the ritual chamber or the hollow echo of programming. Just… Kieran. “Louder than commercial flights.”

“It’s a Craven jet. Military grade.” I keep my own voice steady. “Viktor doesn’t believe in traveling without firepower.”

A ghost of a smile touches his mouth. “You always did like the dangerous ones.”

The comment hits wrong. Too casual for what we’ve been through. Too normal for the chasm that yawns between us.

“Kieran.” I turn toward him, searching his face for signs of the brother I remember. “We need to talk about what happened. What they did to you.”

His shoulders tense. The tremor in his hands worsens.

“I remember pieces,” he says after a long moment. “Fragments. Like trying to remember a dream.” His voice drops low. “I remember you in that chamber. I remember wanting to warn you, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t make my mouth work.”

Pain lances through my chest. “It wasn’t your fault, you—”

“I was manipulated. Brainwashed. Whatever.” He finally looks at me, eyes that mirror my own but hold shadows I’ve never seen before. “All that programming, gone in seconds. But the memories…” He swallows hard. “The things I did while under their control. The people I hurt.”

“That wasn’t you.”

“Wasn’t it?” The question comes out hollow. “I made choices, Iris. Even conditioned, I had moments of clarity where I could have fought harder. Where I could have found another way.”

“They broke you down systematically. They used torture and magical manipulation—”

“They used my love for you.” His interruption cuts like a blade. “That was the key, you know. They convinced me that cooperating was the only way to keep you safe. That resistance would lead them to hurt you instead.”

My shadows stir without permission, responding to the grief and rage building in my chest. All the searching, hoping, and this is what they did. They turned his protective instincts into chains.

“How?” I husk out. “How did they manage it?”

Kieran’s laugh is bitter. “They showed me fabricated intelligence. Videos of you in danger. Audio recordings of you screaming my name while under attack. All fake, but I didn’t know that.

” His hands clench into fists. “Every time I resisted, they’d play another recording.

Show me another scenario where my disobedience led to your capture. ”

The bond flares as Riven’s emotions spike. I can feel his fury through our connection, his desire to hunt down everyone responsible and burn them out of existence. Part of me wants to let him.

“They made me believe,” Kieran continues, voice breaking slightly, “that the only way to protect you was to stop being your brother.”

We sit in silence for a moment, processing the years of manipulation and loss. Outside the window, clouds drift past.

“I built my whole life around saving you,” I finally admit. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not searching for you.”

“And I built my resistance around protecting you. When that foundation cracked…” He shakes his head. “I became someone else. Someone who could do terrible things if it meant you stayed safe.”

“What kind of terrible things?”

The question hangs in the air longer than I expect. When Kieran answers, his voice is flat with self-loathing.

“Interrogations. Asset retrieval. I helped them track down other dragons, other families like ours.” He meets my eyes. “I was good at it. Shadow magic makes you excellent at infiltration, at going places you shouldn’t be able to reach.”

My stomach turns. Not because of what he did—the conditioning makes him a victim, not a villain—but because I can hear the guilt eating him alive.

“The worst part wasn’t what they did to me,” he says quietly. “It was knowing you were out there, and I couldn’t warn you about what I’d become. Couldn’t tell you to run, to hide, to stay away from me.”

“I never would have stayed away.” I put my hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “You know that, right?”

“I know. That’s what terrified me.” He turns back to the window. “In my clearer moments, I prayed you’d give up. Find something else to define yourself by. Someone else to love.”

I shake my head abruptly. “You’re my twin brother. You’re not replaceable.”

“No, but maybe I should have been.” His reflection in the glass looks haunted. “Maybe it would have been better for everyone if you’d let me go.”

“Stop!” I tighten my grip on his arm, then ease it quickly when he flinches. “Don’t you dare suggest that giving up on you was ever an option.”

“Even now? Even knowing what I’ve done?”

“Especially now.”

Kieran turns and stares at me for a long moment. Then something shifts in his expression—not quite hope, but not despair either.

“You’re different,” he observes. “Stronger. More… settled in yourself.”

I think about the past few days. About Riven and the bond I feel between us, about discovering depths to my abilities I never knew existed. About learning that sometimes the people worth saving are the ones standing beside you, not just the ones you’ve lost.

“Three years changes people.”

“What changed you?”

The question is simple. The answer isn’t.

I glance across the aisle at Riven, who’s been listening without intruding. His presence anchors me in ways I’m only beginning to understand. The connection hums between us, recognition and promise and something that feels like home.

“I learned that loving someone doesn’t make you weaker,” I say. “It makes you more yourself.”

Kieran follows my look toward Riven. “Ah. The assassin who tried to kill me.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Most worthwhile things are.” For the first time since we escaped the chamber, Kieran sounds like himself. Tired, damaged, but unmistakably my brother. “Does he make you happy?”

The question catches me off guard. In all my planning for this reunion, I never imagined we’d discuss my love life.

“When I’m not terrified of losing him, yes.”

“Good. You deserve happiness.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Even if I don’t.”

“You do.” I reach for his hand, careful not to startle him. His fingers are cold, still trembling slightly, but they don’t pull away. “It won’t be easy. Recovery never is. But you deserve a chance to rebuild.”

“Into what? I don’t remember who I was before they took me. Not really.”

“Then we figure out who you are now.”

The simple statement seems to surprise him. Like he expected judgment or demands to return to some previous version of himself.

“The twin bond,” I continue, squeezing his hand gently. “When I touched your mind in the chamber, it was still there. Different than before, maybe. Changed. But intact.”

“You could still feel it? Even after everything?”

“Especially after everything.” I let my shadows reach toward him—not as a weapon or tool, but as an extension of myself.

They brush against his own darkness, and for a moment, we’re eight years old again, practicing our abilities in secret.

“We’re not the same people we were when they took you.

But we’re still connected. Still family. ”

Kieran’s shadows respond tentatively to mine, twining together in patterns I remember from childhood games. The contact sends warmth through our shared bond—fragile, damaged, but real.

“There’s something else,” he says after a moment. “Intelligence I gathered while under their control. Information about other facilities, ongoing operations, key personnel.” His expression darkens. “They’re not going to stop, Iris. What happened in Romania was just the beginning.”

“What kind of operations?”

“Abduction protocols for bloodline dragons. Plans for something they call ‘heritage consolidation.’ And…” He hesitates. “Projects involving hybrid experimentation. They’re not just trying to control existing dragons—they’re trying to create new ones.”

The implications hit me like cold wind. “How many facilities?”

“At least six that I saw directly. Possibly more.” His grip on my hand tightens. “The Aurora Collective needs to know. Viktor, the Cravens—anyone with resources to investigate and shut them down.”

“We’ll tell them when we’re ready. When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now.” There’s steel in his voice, the first real strength I’ve heard since the conditioning broke. “They used me to hurt people. I won’t let that stand.”

I study his face, seeing determination mixed with exhaustion and grief. He means it. Despite everything he’s been through, he’s ready to fight back.

“All right. But we do this smart. No rushing in unprepared.”

“Agreed.”

The jet’s intercom crackles to life. “Beginning descent into Seattle. Arrival in twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes until we’re home. Until I have to figure out how to integrate the brother I’ve found with the life I’ve built while searching for him. Until Riven and I confront what fate has in store for our future.

“I’m scared,” Kieran admits quietly.

“Of what?”