Page 11

Chapter 11

T alon

I walk straight into the middle of something I’m not supposed to see.

Creed’s private office has its door cracked open. Inside, voices filter out—raised, urgent, electric with excitement. I pause, weighing the risk of intrusion against the potential intelligence.

No real choice. I push the door open.

The conversation cuts off immediately. Creed stands over a digital display with Dr. Emerson, their faces shifting from surprise to irritation.

“Reeve.” Creed’s voice could freeze hellfire. “This is a private meeting.”

I step inside anyway, closing the door behind me. “Sir. Security protocols require me to be informed of all high-level operational planning.” I maintain Allard Reeve’s confident authority, though my gut tightens at the calculation in Creed’s eyes.

“You weren’t summoned,” Emerson says.

“Yet here I am.” I move toward the digital display where energy readings pulse across the screen—unusual patterns I haven’t seen before. “If this is a security issue, I need to be updated.”

Creed’s jaw works as he weighs his options. Finally, he gives a curt nod. “Fine. Since you’re here, you might as well be informed. We’ve had a significant breakthrough.”

He reaches into a secure case on his desk and removes something that makes my dragon senses flare in warning. A crystal shard no larger than my palm, pulsing with deep crimson light that seems to beat with a rhythm like a living heart.

The moment I see it, my scales shift beneath my skin, responding to the ancient power. Recognition burns through my blood, a visceral reaction I have to fight to control.

“We found this,” he says, holding it up. “We’d believed all our NyxCorp holdings were out of reach when Craven Industries took over, but one of our operatives retrieved this before the Cravens could secure everything. It had been purchased from a private collector by our Heritage Division.”

I stare at the crystal, mesmerized despite myself. Even from several feet away, I can feel its power. Ancient, alive, vibrating with potential. My thoughts flash immediately to Lila. To her silver eyes. To the way her lips felt against mine three nights ago.

“Is that…?” I let the question hang.

“The Shard,” Emerson confirms, voice hushed with something close to awe. “Broken from the Heartstone during Vaelric’s attempted theft centuries ago. We’ve been hunting it for decades.”

I struggle to maintain my professional mask while my mind races. The Shard—a piece of the Stone capable of controlling us all—now in Syndicate hands. And I know exactly who they’ll use to access its power.

Lila.

Just thinking her name sends a pulse of heat through my veins.

“We need to activate it,” Creed continues, returning the crystal to its case.

“And you think our asset knows how,” I conclude, barely keeping the growl from my voice.

“Of course she does.” Creed’s expression hardens. “She’s a Rossewyn. They have power over the Stone… and the Shard, by association.”

“Which is why,” Emerson adds, “we’re initiating an unscheduled extraction. Maximum intensity. No restrictions.”

My dragon surges beneath my skin so violently that I have to clench my fists to keep the scales from breaking through. The thought of them hurting her again, so soon after the last time, makes my vision blur with crimson rage.

“Sir, the scheduled extraction isn’t until tomorrow.” I keep my voice even through sheer force of will. “The asset requires recovery time between—”

“This isn’t up for debate, Reeve,” Creed cuts me off. “This is an emergency response to critical intelligence. The witch has been withholding information for years. That ends today.”

“And if pushing too hard damages her permanently?” I challenge, a hint of dragon rumble escaping despite my control. “If her mind breaks, all potential intelligence is lost.”

“A calculated risk,” Creed dismisses. “We’ve invested too much to stop now.”

He turns to Emerson. “Prepare the extraction chamber. I want her brought in immediately.”

Emerson nods, already moving toward the door. “I’ll have Cole bring her.”

The thought of Cole touching her—even as her handler—sends a possessive fury through me that I’ve never experienced before. The feeling is so unexpected, so powerful, I momentarily lose focus.

“I’ll oversee security for the extraction,” I offer, desperate for a reason to be there, to see her, to somehow protect her.

“No need,” Creed says with a dismissive wave. “Standard protocols will suffice. I want you to continue the investigation into these energy readings.”

“Sir, given the sensitivity of this extraction, I believe I should—”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Reeve.” Creed’s voice hardens. “You have your assignment.”

Before I can argue further, the door opens. Cole stands there, face carefully blank, despite the tension radiating from him. My nostrils flare, catching his scent: concern, fear, and something deeper when Creed mentions Lila. Something possessive that makes my dragon stir with territorial aggression.

What the hell is wrong with you, Raize?

“You requested my presence, sir?” he asks, eyes briefly flickering to me before focusing on Creed.

“Prepare the witch for immediate extraction,” Creed orders. “Maximum intensity. Full neural pathway access.”

Cole’s expression doesn’t change, but I catch the slight tightening of his jaw. “Sir, the last extraction was less than twenty-four hours ago. Her system hasn’t—”

“I’m aware of the timing,” Creed snaps. “There have been new developments. This takes priority.”

Cole’s posture stiffens almost imperceptibly. “What kind of developments?”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Emerson says, studying Cole’s reaction. “The witch knows more than she’s telling us. You claim a deep connection to her mind, yet you’ve detected nothing about this?”

His connection to her mind.

The reminder of their bond scrapes against something raw inside me. Cole has access to parts of Lila I haven’t touched—the intimacy of shared consciousness. The thought makes heat flare under my skin, an irrational emotion I have no right to feel.

“The binding allows me to buffer her visions,” Cole says carefully. “Not access her memories or personal thoughts.”

Creed’s eyes narrow. “Convenient limitation. Almost as if it were designed to keep secrets.”

“The binding was created to your specifications,” Cole reminds him. “Its parameters were set by your research team.”

“Regardless,” Creed dismisses, “the extraction proceeds immediately. Prepare her.”

Cole nods once, turning to leave. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second—long enough to convey volumes. Alarm. Desperation. A silent plea.

“Reeve,” Creed calls as I move to follow, “your assignment. The energy readings. I want a complete analysis within the hour.”

I force myself to nod. “Yes, sir.”

In the corridor, I catch up to Cole, keeping pace as he strides toward the north quadrant. I say nothing for a moment, waiting to see how he handles this.

“They’ll kill her,” he says under his breath. “This level of extraction so soon after the last…”

“I don’t like it,” I mutter, drawing a sharp look from him.

“Neither do I,” he exhales, seeming to have decided that he can discuss this with me.

“Can you minimize it?” I ask, matching his low tone.

He shakes his head minutely. “Not at the intensity they’re demanding. And if I try to resist, they’ll just remove me from the equation. It’ll be even worse for her.”

His genuine concern for her safety cools some of my territorial instinct. Whatever his feelings for Lila, he wants to protect her as much as I do.

“Do you know what she’s keeping from them?” I press.

His eyes dart to mine, conflicted. “I’ve felt… something. In her dreams. Moments when her guard drops during visions. A presence she reaches for. But nothing concrete enough to report.”

A presence she reaches for. The words echo in my mind, connecting to the memory of our kiss—how she’d seemed to be searching for something in my eyes afterward. How vulnerable she’d looked. It made my chest ache.

“She’s hiding something,” I say.

Pain flashes across his face. “If she is, they’ll tear her mind apart to get to it.”

We reach a junction in the corridor. Cole stops, glancing at the security cameras before leaning closer.

“I can’t stop this,” he whispers. “But I might be able to modify the serum. Dilute it slightly. Give her a fighting chance.”

“Do it.” I nod. “And I’ll try to monitor from security. Find a way to intervene if things go too far.”

His eyes bore into mine, desperate and determined. “If she survives this…”

“She will,” I say firmly, though my voice roughens with emotion I can’t fully hide. “And when she does, we’ll… weigh up other options.”

The words hang in the silence between us, their meaning hinting at something bigger than what’s being discussed here.

We’re getting her out of here.

Whether Cole understands I’m not who I claim to be, he’s choosing Lila over the Syndicate. Right now, that’s all that matters.

Cole nods once and continues toward Lila’s quarters, professional mask firmly in place.

I return to my assigned station, my thoughts consumed by her. By the scent of her hair when I’d leaned close during our kiss. By the softness of her lips. By the flash in her eyes when she’d pushed me away—not in rejection, but in fear. Fear of connection, of vulnerability.

Fear that I understood all too well.

For the next forty minutes, I divide my attention between analyzing the energy readings as ordered and monitoring the security feeds from the extraction chamber. My claws slip out twice, digging into my palms as I struggle for control.

I watch as they bring Lila in. She’s stoic, but I catch the flicker of fear in her eyes when she’s strapped into the chair. My chest tightens, remembering how, just days ago, I’d adjusted those same restraints, my fingers lingering against her pulse point. How she’d looked at me then, confused and wary but also… curious.

Cole stands nearby, his face professionally blank, though I note the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curl into his palms. His protectiveness of her both reassures and irritates me—an unexpected emotion I can’t afford to indulge.

Creed enters, carrying the secure case. Emerson follows with her tablet, already calibrating the extraction equipment.

“Ms. Ross,” Creed says, voice deceptively pleasant. “Thank you for joining us on such short notice.”

As if she had a choice.

Lila says nothing, but her eyes track Creed’s movements as he approaches.

“We have something to show you,” Creed continues, placing the case on a nearby table. “Something I believe you’ll find… familiar.”

He removes the Shard, holding it up so Lila can see it clearly. The crimson crystal pulses in the sterile light of the extraction chamber, casting blood-red shadows across her face.

For just a fraction of a second, her perfect mask slips. Alarm, quickly hidden. But I saw it. The same expression she’d worn when I’d caught her after a vision in her room. When I’d tasted her fear and defiance on my tongue.

“Do you know what this is?” Creed asks, moving closer to her.

“A crystal,” she says, voice flat. “Should I be impressed?”

God, her defiance makes something primal stir in my blood. Even strapped down, at their mercy, she refuses to bend.

“Don’t play games,” Creed snaps. “This is the Shard of the Heartstone. The missing piece your ancestors helped hide.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes never leave the crystal, though her voice remains steady.

“Lies.” Creed brings the Shard closer, hovering it inches from her face. “Your bloodline has always been connected to the Heartstone. The Rossewyn witches served the Dragon Kings. Channeled their power through the Stone.”

Something flickers in her eyes—knowledge she’s hiding, secrets she’s kept for years. “So you found it. Am I supposed to be impressed?”

Creed’s jaw tightens with frustration. He places the Shard directly into her bound hand, forcing her fingers to curl around it.

The effect is immediate and violent. The crystal flares with blinding crimson light. Lila bucks against the restraints, a gasp tearing from her throat as energy crackles between her skin and the Shard. For a moment, her eyes glow with the same crimson light, power flowing between witch and crystal in a circuit I can almost see.

Heat floods my body at the sight—her power, uncontained. Beautiful and terrifying. For that brief moment, I glimpse what she truly is beneath the layers of captivity and control—raw magic, ancient bloodline, defiance incarnate.

Then she wrenches her hand away, the Shard tumbling to the floor.

“Activate it,” Creed hisses, shoving it into her hand again. Lila grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut. The crystal flickers and then darkens, its light dimming as if she’s pulled energy away from it.

Creed’s expression grows thunderous. A shimmer crosses his cheeks—scales breaking through in anger.

“Very well, if that’s the way you want to play it,” he decides, returning the Shard to its case. “We’ll see how you feel once you’ve been softened up a bit.” He nods to Emerson. “Begin the procedure. Full intensity.”

I grip the edge of my console, claws fully extended now, digging into the metal. Control slipping with each passing second. The need to protect her burns through my blood like wildfire.

Cole administers the serum. Lila’s eyes flutter as the drug enters her system, her body tensing in anticipation of what’s to come.

A growl builds in my chest, rumbling upward before I can swallow it back. A technician glances my way, eyes widening at whatever he sees in my face. I turn away, forcing my breathing to slow, my scales to retreat.

On screen, blue energy crackles from the machinery, enveloping Lila in a web of magical current. Her back arches, teeth clenched against the pain.

“Show us what you’ve been hiding,” Creed commands.

Lila’s head thrashes from side to side, fighting the extraction.

“Nothing… to show,” she gasps, blood now flowing freely from her nose.

The sight of it ignites something ancient and protective in me. My vision edges with crimson, dragon fire building in my lungs. I force myself up from my chair, stepping away from the monitoring station before I lose control completely.

In the small bathroom attached to the security office, I splash cold water on my face, watching scales ripple across my cheekbones before I master them back beneath the surface. Three deep breaths, centering myself.

Hold it together, Raize. You can’t help her if you expose yourself now.

When I return to my station, the extraction has intensified. Lila’s body convulses against the restraints, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the extraction digs deeper into her mind.

“Tell us what you’ve been hiding, damn you! Creed snarls.

Blood streams from Lila’s nose, her eyes, her ears. The same blood I’d wiped away so tenderly after her vision that night. The night I’d crossed the line and kissed her. The night I’d felt something break open inside me that I thought had died long ago.

Fuck! Too much pressure. They’re killing her, goddammit.

I rise from my monitoring station, ready to intervene, consequences be damned. But before I can move, Lila’s entire body goes rigid, back arching impossibly as her eyes roll back to show only whites.

“Something’s happening,” Emerson reports, excitement bleeding through her clinical tone. “We’re breaking through her defenses.”

On the screen, Lila’s lips move, forming words I can’t quite hear. The equipment readings spike off the charts.

“What is she saying?” Creed demands, leaning closer.

And then it happens. Lila’s voice rises in a scream that chills my blood, echoing through the extraction chamber.

“ELENA!”

The name rips from her throat, raw and ragged. The monitoring equipment alarms blare as her readings shoot through the roof.

“Who is Elena?” Creed demands, pouncing on the name. “What does she have to do with the energy signature?”

Lila fights against the restraints, caught in a vision so powerful it overwhelms even the extraction apparatus.

“My daughter,” she gasps, the words spilling out as if torn from her very soul. “My child. Hidden. Protected.”

The admission rocks me back in my chair.

A daughter. Lila has a daughter.

Every interaction between us suddenly shifts in perspective. The way she’d pulled back from our kiss—not rejection but fear. Fear for her child. The presence Cole said she reached for in her dreams. The secret she’s kept at such terrible cost to herself.

A child she sacrificed everything to protect.

Cole’s face drains of color, genuine shock replacing his professional mask. He clearly had no idea, despite their mental connection.

“Where is she?” Creed presses, sensing victory. “Tell me where she is!”

“Safe,” Lila whispers, blood bubbling on her lips. “Far from you.”

My chest constricts at the raw maternal ferocity in those three words. Twenty years of torture endured to keep her child hidden. A courage so profound it leaves me breathless.

“Sir,” Cole interjects urgently, “her vitals are critical. We need to stop—”

“Not yet!” Creed shouts. “Where is your daughter? How is she connected to the Heartstone?”

My fists clench so hard I feel bones crack, healing instantly as my dragon seeks release. I can’t watch this, can’t stay seated while they tear her apart. But I can’t save her if I blow my cover now.

Then Lila’s eyes suddenly focus, looking directly at the camera. Looking at me . It’s impossible—she can’t know I’m watching, can’t see through the digital feed—but I’d swear on my eternal soul that her gaze finds mine across the distance.

For one breathless moment, we’re connected as intimately as that night when I held her face between my hands and tasted her defiance. I feel her reaching for me across the void, entrusting me with what comes next.

“Fire,” she whispers, voice barely audible, meant only for me. “She rises. My daughter rises from the flames.”

Then her body goes completely limp, head lolling to the side as the monitoring equipment screams with warning alerts. Her heart rate flatlines for ten terrifying seconds before resuming a weak, erratic rhythm.

“She’s crashing,” Cole announces, already moving to disconnect the extraction apparatus. “Medical team, now!”

Creed steps back, a mixture of fury and satisfaction on his face. “We have what we need. A daughter. This changes everything.”

“She’s non-responsive,” Cole reports, checking Lila’s pupil response with a penlight. “Complete neural shutdown.”

“Can you revive her?” Creed asks, unmoved by the sight of Lila’s blood-streaked face.

Cole’s expression hardens with barely contained rage. “This isn’t a fainting spell. You pushed her into a coma. She may never wake up.”

His words send me reeling. I clutch the edge of the console, struggling for breath. Never wake up. Three words that tear through me with more pain than I’ve felt in decades.

“Unacceptable.” Creed’s cold voice carries through the speaker. “Find a way to revive her. We need more information about this daughter.”

“You’ve destroyed her neural pathways,” Cole snaps, professional veneer finally cracking. “There’s nothing to ‘revive’ if you’ve burned out her mind. She’ll be of no use to anyone then.”

Creed shrugs. “No matter. If there’s another one, we don’t need her, anyway.”

The medical team rushes in, transferring Lila’s limp form to a gurney. Her face is ghostly pale beneath the streaks of blood, dark hair spilling over the edge of the stretcher like water. The same hair I’d tangled my fingers in during our kiss. The body that had pressed against mine with such unexpected hunger.

Now still. Broken. Perhaps lost forever.

I sit frozen, shaking with a rage I haven’t felt since London burned. Since I watched my mate die because of Syndicate cruelty. A rage I’d thought safely buried beneath decades of control.

But this… this is different. This isn’t about old wounds or past failures. This is about Lila. About what they’ve done to her. About what I failed to prevent.

About the crushing realization that I care far more than I should. Far more than my mission allows.

The security feed from the medical wing shows the team working frantically over Lila’s unconscious form. Cole stands at the foot of the bed, his face a mask of controlled fury as he issues orders to the medical staff.

My mind races with implications. If this Elena is truly Lila’s daughter, everything changes. Our extraction plans. The Aurora Collective’s strategy. The balance of power between dragon factions.

And beneath it all, the knowledge that I can’t leave without her. Can’t complete my mission while she lies broken. Can’t walk away from the unexpected connection that burns between us.

Lila’s final words echo in my mind, a prophecy delivered directly to me across impossible distance.

She rises. My daughter rises from the flames.

A warning? A hope? A destiny?

Whatever it means, one thing is certain: the stakes have risen beyond what even Viktor anticipated. And Lila—fierce, defiant, beautiful Lila—might never wake to see the outcome of the battle she’s been fighting.

The thought is unbearable.

My dragon, so carefully contained for decades, pushes against my control with savage determination. Wanting blood. Wanting vengeance.

Wanting her .

I rise, forcing my breathing to steady, my features to compose. I have a role to play. A cover to maintain. A woman to save, if I can.

And God help anyone who stands in my way.