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

I ris

The room feels sterile despite its comfortable furnishings.

Standard-issue everything—bed, desk, chair—designed for functionality rather than personality.

It’s the kind of space that houses a dozen different operatives throughout the year, each leaving no trace of their presence.

Taking up Viktor’s offer to stay in the Collective’s living quarters was a practical decision.

I spread my gear across the regulation desk—the ritual of organization that’s kept me sane.

Combat knife, lockpicks, rappelling rope, thermal scope.

Each piece carries memories: the knife that saved my life in Belgrade, the rope that got me out of a Syndicate facility in Prague.

Tools of survival, companions in the endless search that’s defined my existence since Kieran disappeared.

My dragon nature stirs restlessly beneath my skin, responding to the anticipation thrumming through my veins. The flames that mark my heritage want to manifest, to burn away the uncertainty and doubt. I flex my fingers, watching shadows dance between them.

It’s been too long. So much time wasted following rumors across continents, chasing phantoms that turned out to be nothing more than wishful thinking.

The businessman in New York who walked like Kieran from behind but had the wrong laugh.

The guy with red hair in Amsterdam whose copper eyes belonged to a stranger.

The surveillance footage from Moscow that showed a figure with Kieran’s build entering a building, only for me to discover the man was twenty years too old.

I’ve stretched every one of my resources to breaking point in my relentless search, my network of contacts growing tired of my badgering.

I’m tired too.

Each disappointment has carved deeper, until I started questioning whether I’d imagined the twin bond that once connected us. Whether the certainty I felt—that he was alive, that he needed me—was just delusion wrapped in desperate hope.

This time is different.

That security footage, the way the figure moved… That was Kieran. Not someone who resembled him, not wishful thinking. Him.

I roll practical clothing into precise cylinders, my hands moving while my mind races. What if we can’t find the place? What if by the time Viktor organizes his expedition, the trail goes cold again? The thought makes my dragon fire flicker hotter, shadows deepening around my hands.

Kieran’s leather jacket hangs in my closet, the only piece of home I’ve carried with me.

I pull it out, running my fingers over the worn leather.

It still carries the faint scent of fall leaves and his soap.

The left shoulder bears a small tear from the night we were separated, a reminder of chaos and violence and the choice that’s haunted me.

I hold it against my chest, allowing myself this moment of weakness. Then I fold it carefully—if I find him, he’ll want it back.

When I find him.

You’re going to find him, Iris.

The knock at my door comes just as I’m considering whether to pack my emergency cash. Three sharp raps, then three more; someone’s impatient. I check the time. Seven in the evening.

“Iris? It’s us.” Elena’s voice carries through the door, vibrating with excitement.

I open it to find Elena and Mara standing there.

Elena clutches a laptop bag like it contains the secrets of the universe, while Mara shifts from foot to foot with barely contained energy.

Her hair is an unusual blend of black with electric blue highlights that somehow work, and she’s wearing what looks like a vintage band T-shirt under a jacket covered in patches.

“Hey,” I say, stepping back to let them in. “What’s—?”

“I found it.” Elena brushes past me, already moving toward my desk, where she freezes at the sight of my gear laid out in neat rows. “Oh. You’re… organized.”

“Always am.” I gesture toward the couch. “Sit. Tell me what you found.”

Elena sets her laptop down, her movements quick and precise. When she opens it, the screen illuminates her face with an otherworldly glow. For a moment, she looks exactly like what she is—an investigator who’s spent years chasing impossible truths.

“It took me all day,” she says, fingers moving quickly over the keyboard. “I had to call in favors from contacts I’ve been saving for years. People who deal in… unconventional information.”

“You mean magical contacts,” Mara translates, perching on the edge of my bed like a bright bird.

“Among others.” Elena’s eyes never leave the screen. “Finding information about the Sleeping King isn’t just about digging through historical records. Most of the real details were deliberately obscured or destroyed. But I know people who specialize in reconstructing lost histories.”

She turns the laptop toward me. The screen shows a complex map overlaid with geological surveys, historical documents, and what appear to be energy readings displayed in shifting colors.

“This is the Carpathian Mountains,” Elena explains, pointing to a section highlighted in red.

“Specifically, a network of caves about forty miles northeast of Bra?ov. The local legends call it Lacul Adormit—the Sleeping Lake—because there’s supposedly an underground lake system that connects to deeper chambers. ”

My dragon fire responds to the words, recognizing something ancient and significant. The flames under my skin pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat. “How certain are you?”

“Ninety percent.” Elena clicks through several screens, showing me ancient maps, modern satellite imagery, and energy signature readouts.

“I cross-referenced historical accounts of Craven clan strongholds with geological surveys and magical resonance patterns. The energy signatures are… unique. Old magic, deep magic. The kind that would be used to create a protective barrier around something precious.”

“Or someone,” I murmur, my throat tight.

“Exactly.” Elena’s excitement is infectious, her researcher’s instincts fully engaged. “But here’s the thing, Iris. This isn’t just about finding your brother anymore. If the king’s burial chamber is really there, if the Syndicate has access to it…”

She trails off, but I can finish the thought. Ancient dragon magic in the wrong hands. Power that could reshape the supernatural world. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Kieran.

The twin bond that’s grown strained gives the faintest flutter, so brief I almost miss it. My fire surges in response, hope and terror warring in my chest.

“How did you get these energy readings?” I ask.

Elena exchanges a glance with Mara, who grins and pulls out what looks like a modified tablet. “Let’s just say Mara has some unconventional tech skills.”

“I may have borrowed some data from a private research firm that definitely shouldn’t have that level of detailed magical resonance mapping,” Mara says cheerfully.

“Plus, I’ve been tracking weird energy anomalies for my TikTok channel, anyway.

When Elena described what we were looking for, I already had half the data. ”

Elena clicks to another screen, showing what appears to be a 3D model of underground chambers.

“These are based on what we could glean from the area. The thing is, getting there won’t be easy.

The caves are in remote terrain, and according to my sources, they’re not unguarded.

The Syndicate has been moving resources into that area for months. ”

My shadows deepen, responding to the spike of urgency that shoots through me. Months. They’ve been there for months while I’ve been chasing dead ends across half the globe.

“Which brings me to the other thing,” Elena continues. “Viktor and Caleb want to organize a proper expedition. Full team, backup support, careful planning. They’re talking about leaving in three or four days.”

The words make my breath catch. Three or four days. While my brother remains trapped, while whatever the Syndicate is planning moves closer to completion. My dragon nature recoils from the delay, fire licking under my skin.

“That’s… thorough of them,” I manage.

“It’s smart,” Elena corrects. “Iris, this isn’t like tracking down leads in cities. If the Syndicate really has established a presence around that burial chamber, we’re talking about significant opposition. Ancient protections, modern security, who knows what else.”

“What does Viktor’s plan look like?” I ask, though part of me is already calculating flight times to Bucharest.

Elena brightens, clearly relieved that I’m engaging with the idea.

“Full tactical team—Caleb, some of the Collective team; Caleb wants Luke for more combat support. Viktor wants to coordinate with some of his international contacts, people who know the terrain and the political situation. He’s even talking about bringing you and me because of our research expertise, and Ember because of her connection to the visions. ”

“Gee, thanks. You mean I’m part of the team?” I roll my eyes. “As for Ember, Vanya will never agree to that,” I point out.

“Which is why they need time to negotiate,” Elena says. “Viktor thinks he can convince her if they present a comprehensive safety plan. Caleb doesn’t set much stock in dreams, but Viktor thinks it’s worth including.”

I listen to their reasoning, their logical arguments for caution and preparation. Every word makes sense. Every concern is valid. And every second they talk, that invisible countdown in my head grows louder.

The twin bond flutters again, stronger this time. A wordless pull toward the east, toward mountains and stone and the brother I failed to save.

“I should definitely go with them,” I say, testing the words. “This is about Kieran. I should be there.”

“Of course you should,” Mara agrees. “You know him better than anyone. If he’s… changed, you’d be the one to reach him.”

Changed. The word sits heavy between us, laden with implications none of us want to voice. Three years in Syndicate hands. Three years of whatever they do to prisoners, especially ones with our particular heritage.

“But going in smart is the only way to guarantee we can get him out,” Elena adds. “Iris, I know waiting is hard. But we’re talking about walking into what might be the supernatural equivalent of a fortress.”

I stand, moving to the window that overlooks the valley. Stars twinkle in the gathering darkness, celestial bodies that couldn’t care less about my petty problems. Though they’re not petty to me.

“What if we’re too late?” The question escapes before I can stop it, probably giving away my intentions. “What if three more days is three days too many?”

The room falls silent. Elena’s fingers pause over her keyboard, while Mara studies me with those sharp green eyes.

“We won’t be,” Elena says quietly. “Caleb was right when he said they won’t kill him if they have a purpose for him.”

“Which means they’ll keep him alive until that purpose is fulfilled.” I turn back to face them. “And then what?”

Elena closes her laptop with deliberate calm. “Then we make sure we reach him before that happens. But we do it smart, with backup, with a plan that gets everyone out alive.”

“Even if I went alone,” I say, half to myself, “it’s not like I could just walk in there and—”

“Alone?” Mara’s voice rises an octave. “Oh, hell no. Iris, that’s not even remotely an option.”

“You’d be committing suicide,” Elena adds firmly. “And you know it. You’ve been hunting the Syndicate—you know better than anyone how dangerous they are.”

I do know. I also know how it feels to wake up every morning with the weight of abandoning Kieran sitting on my chest. How it feels to carry too much guilt and desperate hope, watching every lead disappear while committees debate and plans get refined.

But looking at Elena’s earnest face, at Mara’s genuine concern, I realize they’re right about one thing: going alone would be suicide. And suicide won’t save Kieran.

“You’re right,” I say finally. “I know you’re right. It’s just… the waiting is killing me. Especially now that I know he’s out there… alive. And I know where he is.”

Elena stands and moves toward me, her expression softening. “I know. But this time is different, Iris. This time, we have real information, real coordinates. This time we’re going to bring him home.”

“All of us,” Mara adds. “Like some kind of badass supernatural rescue squad.”

Despite everything, I smile. “When you put it like that…”

“Plus,” Elena adds, “you’ll need me there to navigate the historical significance of whatever we find. And you’ll need Mara to hack whatever security systems they’ve got.”

“And document everything for posterity,” Mara says solemnly, which is unlike her. “This is definitely going in my memoirs.”

They stay for another hour, Elena transferring copies of her research files to a flash drive for me to study, Mara regaling us with increasingly outlandish theories about what we might find in an ancient dragon king’s tomb.

By the time they leave, I’m almost convinced that waiting for Viktor’s expedition is the right choice.

“Promise us you won’t do anything reckless,” Elena says at the door.

“Define reckless,” I reply, which earns me a stern look.

“Promise,” Mara insists. “Scout’s honor and everything.”

“I promise to wait for the team,” I say, because it’s what they need to hear.

After they leave, I stand at my window watching the night fall over the mountains.

The twin bond pulses again, stronger now. Not quite the connection we once shared, but something. A thread of awareness, a whisper of need. He’s alive. He’s there. And he’s running out of time. I just know it.

I study Elena’s files on my laptop, memorizing terrain maps and energy readings. The satellite images show dense forest giving way to rocky peaks, caves that tunnel deep into the earth. Somewhere in that maze of stone and darkness, Kieran waits.

The dragon fire under my skin burns hotter as I plan. Not Viktor’s careful expedition with its committees and contingencies. Something faster. More direct.

It’s madness, and I know it.

But I don’t care.

I pull out my phone and start researching flights to Bucharest. The next one leaves at midnight—enough time to finish preparations. My gear is already laid out. I’ll convert my emergency cash to euros when I get there. The flash drive with Elena’s research goes into a waterproof case.

I change into operational clothing and check my weapons one final time, shadows responding to my rising determination. This is who I’ve become: not the girl who fled that night, but the woman who learned to fight, to hunt, to survive.

The woman who’s going to bring him home.

I sling my pack over my shoulder and take one last look around the apartment. The waiting is finally over.

Time to go to work.