Page 16

Chapter 16

T alon

The buzzing drags me from sleep—insistent, relentless. My tablet vibrates itself halfway off the nightstand before I snatch it, blinking against the harsh light that illuminates my quarters.

Three in the fucking morning.

The display shows a string of urgent messages, all within the last twelve minutes. Security breach. Command presence required. Priority Alpha.

Something’s gone sideways. Bad.

I’m moving before conscious thought catches up; boots on, tactical vest over bare chest, sidearm secured. Training takes over, filtering panic into focused action. The last message from Creed flashes as I pull open the door.

PRIMARY TARGET LOST. EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.

Shit! Elena.

The corridors blur as I jog toward the Ops Room. It roils with barely controlled anxiety when I shove through the doors. Analysts hunched over screens, security personnel barking into comms, maps and surveillance feeds covering every display surface. The air crackles with urgency barely held in check by Syndicate discipline.

Creed stands at the central console, knuckles clenched against the edge, face twisting between fury and something I’ve never seen on him before—fear. Real fear.

“Reeve.” His head snaps up. “About goddamn time.”

“Just got the alert. What’s happened?” I scan the displays, looking for any sign of Elena’s tracking signal. Finding none.

“She’s gone.” Creed’s voice could freeze blood. “The Ross girl has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” I play my part while my mind races ahead. “What do you mean?”

Creed’s jaw clenches until I hear teeth grind. “She was meeting someone—a friend—at a park downtown. Never made it home. Surveillance lost her completely.”

“Her tracker?” I ask, careful not to reveal how much this news rattles me.

“Went dark.” Emerson appears at my shoulder, her usually immaculate appearance fraying at the edges. “Complete signal loss. No electronic footprint since.”

“Any witnesses?” I study the grid map of Seattle on the main display, Elena’s last known location pulsing red.

“Two street dealers reported seeing a ‘monster’ in the park.” Creed’s voice drips with disgust. “Local authorities dismissed it as drug-induced hallucination. But our assets intercepted the police report. They described wings. A figure that moved too fast to see clearly.”

A cold weight settles in my gut. “Dragon.”

“Precisely.” Creed brings up a series of surveillance photos—a tall, hard-featured man with close-cropped gray hair and a grizzled beard. “Malakai Steele. He’s been on our watch list for months, operating within Craven’s inner circle as an advisor.”

“Steele.” The name sends ice through my veins. Iron… Steel… Malakai Steele. Lila had seen this, tried to tell me. I was just too fucking blind to see it. “I know him from the files. Craven ally, isn’t he?”

Creed’s laugh holds no humor. “That’s what everyone thought. What he wanted them to think.” He brings up additional intelligence reports, connection maps, intercepted communications. “Until our analysts pieced this together.”

The display shifts to show Steele’s connections, tentative lines stretching to known Circle of Fire operatives around the globe.

“He’s not just with the Circle,” Emerson explains, eyes fixed on the screen. “He’s leading them. Operating from deep cover within traditional dragon power structures.”

Jesus Christ. The notorious Circle of Fire—dragon extremists who dream of returning to the old days when dragons ruled through fear and flame. Who believe the veil of secrecy should be torn away and humans subjugated once more. And they have Elena. A Rossewyn witch who doesn’t even know what she is.

My blood runs cold. This changes everything.

“How did we miss this?” I keep my voice even, professional, despite the alarm bells clanging in my head.

“Steele’s good.” Creed’s eyes narrow to slits. “Very good. He’s been playing both sides—keeping Craven’s trust while directing Circle operations from the shadows.”

“And now he has Elena Ross,” I say it flatly, letting the implications hang in the air. “A Rossewyn witch who could potentially access the Heartstone.”

“Exactly.” Creed slams his fist into the console. Scales ripple across his cheekbones before he forces them back. “We’ve been monitoring her movements, waiting for her to lead us to it. And now the goddamn Circle has her instead.”

Oh, my fucking God.

The implications settle in my gut like lead. If Elena has accessed even a fraction of her latent power, and the Circle uses her to unlock the Heartstone…

“We’re proceeding under worst-case assumptions,” Creed continues. “Steele took her specifically for her blood connection to the Heartstone. And if he succeeds in getting her to access it…”

He doesn’t need to finish. We all know what it means—dragon existence revealed on the Circle’s violent terms. Global domination. Everything the Circle has dreamed of.

“Do we have any leads on where he might have taken her?” I ask, scanning the displays for clues.

“Nothing concrete.” Emerson pulls up a map of Seattle. “Our working theory is that he’s keeping her nearby. If his goal is the Heartstone, he’ll need to take her back to Craven headquarters.”

“Bold,” I say, maintaining my cover.

“It’s where the Stone is,” Creed says flatly. “There’s no accessing it remotely. And the Cravens haven’t raised any alarms yet about Elena’s disappearance—they may not even know she’s missing.”

“What about her friend?” I ask. “The one she was meeting?”

Emerson brings up a DMV photo of a striking woman with blue-streaked hair. “Mara Jones. Old friend from high school, runs some sort of conspiracy podcast. We’re looking into whether she was involved or another victim. But look at this…” She holds up her screen, and I step up closer, my eyes widening as I take in what I’m seeing.

“Are those…?”

“Dragons,” says Creed. “Not authentic, obviously, but the fucking idiot released an entire video outing dragons as real.”

“Fuck!” I bark before I can silence myself. “When did this happen?”

“Day or so ago,” says Emerson. “The thing went viral.”

“And we’re only learning this now?”

“We don’t normally source our intel from TikTok, Reeve,” she responds.

“Enough. There’s no time for this now. We need to find the Ross girl,” Creed says, voice dropping dangerously low. “Before Steele gets whatever he wants from her.”

“What resources do we have?” I ask, thinking of Lila. Wondering if she felt her daughter’s abduction, if the maternal bond between them still functions.

Of course it does. How could it not?

“Standard Syndicate assets are being deployed across all territories,” Emerson answers, typing rapidly on her tablet. “We’ve activated sleeper agents within Circle-controlled businesses. Surveillance drones are being redirected to known Circle facilities.”

“Reeve. You coordinate the field teams,” says Creed. “I want all available intelligence on Circle movement patterns, safe houses, and magical signatures within the last forty-eight hours.”

I nod curtly. “Understood. I’ll need access to all surveillance feeds from the park and surrounding areas. There might be signs we missed.”

“Do it,” Creed says, already turning to coordinate with other team leaders. “And Reeve? If you find anything—anything at all—you report directly to me. No independent action.”

“Of course.” The agreement slides out smooth as silk. A lie as natural as breathing.

For the next hour, I play my part flawlessly—coordinating teams, analyzing footage, mapping potential hiding places. All while my mind races with contingency plans. The Aurora team needs to know about this development immediately. Malakai Steele controlling the Circle changes every calculation. And if they access Elena’s power…

“Sir.” I approach Creed after establishing initial search parameters. “Request permission to check the auxiliary server room. The backup surveillance feeds might have caught something the primaries missed.”

He barely looks up from his display. “Make it quick.”

“Ten minutes tops.” I execute a perfect Syndicate salute and stride from the room, maintaining urgent but controlled momentum until I’m out of sight.

The auxiliary server room sits in the eastern wing—close to my established covert communication point. I check the corridor, confirming it’s clear, before slipping into the maintenance closet.

“Aurora actual,” I whisper, activating the comms unit. “Emergency contact. Highest levels.”

Static hisses for five agonizing seconds before Viktor’s voice filters through. Not Zoe—Viktor himself. My call language makes it clear this is serious.

“Report.”

“Elena Ross has been taken by Malakai Steele,” I say without preamble. “Confirmed Circle of Fire leadership, not Craven allied as previously believed. Abduction approximately five hours ago from a Seattle park.”

“Christ.” A moment of stunned silence. “Are you certain about Steele?”

“Confirmed by Syndicate intelligence. They’re scrambling, Viktor. This wasn’t planned.” I check my watch—must be brief. “Syndicate analysis suggests he’ll take her back to Craven headquarters to access the Heartstone.”

“Then her abilities may activate,” Viktor says, voice tight. “If she’s accessed even a fraction of her heritage, and the Circle uses her with Stone…”

“They get control,” I finish grimly.

“This changes everything, Talon.” Viktor’s voice hardens with decision. “Your extraction orders are modified. Get the witch out. Don’t wait for the planned window. She’s the only one who might be able to locate her daughter.”

My heart rate kicks up. “Security’s doubled since Elena was identified. After this bullshit, it’s going to be worse. The stronghold is on full alert. It won’t be easy.”

“I don’t care if you have to burn the facility to the ground. Get her out.” The intensity in his voice surprises me.

“Understood.” Relief and tension war in my chest. Finally acting, but under the worst possible circumstances.

“Aurora out,” Viktor finishes. “Don’t get caught.”

The connection drops. I replace the comms unit and exit the closet.

I return to Operations, maintaining my composure as I report finding nothing in the auxiliary feeds. Creed barely acknowledges me, too focused on coordinating the rapidly expanding search operation.

“We’ve got a potential lead,” Emerson announces. “One of our informants spotted a vehicle matching known Circle transportation protocols heading toward the business district.”

“Deploy reconnaissance teams,” Creed orders immediately. “I want eyes on every building in that area. Find her before Steele moves her again. Under no circumstances can he get the woman near the Heartstone.”

I watch the controlled frenzy, calculating my moment. The Syndicate throwing everything they have at recovering Elena makes sense—not from any concern for her welfare, but fear of what the Circle might accomplish with her. Two predators fighting over the same prey, neither caring if she survives the struggle.

And somewhere in all this, Lila waits, unaware that her daughter faces a fate potentially worse than her own.