“Why test it here?”
“Because the thing that lit our canyon wants bodies, not smoke. This ends it quicker.” His stroke along the edge sings, a metallic hymn.
My attention flicks to Kade—he has the baggie with the accelerant rag and photos, evidence that will vanish if I file it. “Run your Blackstrike magic on the contents of that baggie. It needs to be off site today.”
He leans in, voice a gravel whisper. “Give me the baggie. You’ll be breaking chain of custody.”
I snort. “I crossed that bridge a while ago.”
It’s a gamble. But my options are evaporating faster than a backburn in canyon wind. I slide him the baggie. Our fingers brush—static arcs up my arm. He tucks the contraband inside his field notebook.
Kade nods. “You sure you trust me?”
“I trust a firebreak when the front’s bearing down. Right now, you’re the only break I’ve got.”
Fingers brush—electricity arcs. “I’ll get answers.”
A charged silence swells—thick with heat, tension, and the ache of what neither of us will voice. The axe’s edge throws flickering ember-light over my neck and shoulder, tracing fire across bare skin. My breath catches, sharp and shallow, a spark waiting to ignite.
He leans in and I slide my palms along his chest as his mouth claims mine—fierce, devouring, and the shock of it ignites everynerve, a flashfire racing through me with no warning and no escape. I taste smoke and steel and something far more elemental—inevitability laced with wildfire. One hand tangles in my hair, tugging just enough to drag a gasp from my throat; the other sears against my hip, anchoring me to the furnace of his body. He yanks me flush to him, hardness that isn’t just desire—dominance unleashed and unrepentant. The lantern flares in protest, then dies with a clatter, shadows swallowing us whole.
We break apart when a distant siren whoops—Engine Two rolling. Our foreheads meet, breaths ragged.
“We just went live,” he rasps. “Stay on radio three.”
“No dying today.”
His smile glints—ancient, dangerous—feral amusement laced with promise, like the flicker of firelight just before it roars to life. Unshakable.
He snatches a shirt and shoulders past the darkness with the coiled tension of someone stepping into war. I seize my helmet, fingers brushing worn plastic still warm from earlier heat. The air outside greets us, a looming threat—thick with pre-storm ozone, smoke, and the acrid tang of disturbed ash. It scrapes my throat raw as we each stride away into the dark.
Across the ridge, another orange pillar mushrooms skyward—Ignis just lit the canyon fuel cache. The only evacuation route? Straight through the fire line Kade told me to avoid. I thumb my radio—channel three. “Your move, dragon man.”
CHAPTER 7
KADE
Flames gutter low in the forge barrel I hid behind the abandoned mechanics shed—just enough glow to kiss the rusty walls with orange, painting them in flickers of copper and blood. The air hangs heavy with scorched oil and soot, and in the distance, a lonely coyote call winds into the hum of night patrol radios.
The whole place smells like sweat, steel, and secrets—perfect for the work I need to do under cover of dark. I scroll the decrypted Ignis thread one last time, the words bleeding across my phone like poison scripture.
Convoy doors green. Fort Verde sweep at drill whistle. Package out before 0800.
Ignis plans to lift an entire weapons convoy right under Fort Verde’s nose—while every firefighter in a fifty-mile radius scrambles to contain a canyon inferno rigged to burn bright and fast, all smoke and spectacle. And Liv? She’s the ignition. The spark they planted to set the whole distraction ablaze.
“Not happening,” I growl.
Across the screen, another message unfurls—Dax’s voice note, encrypted and pulsing in that heartbeat rhythm only our unit knows.Greer’s bought mercs loaded with foam-jacket rounds. Non-metal, anti-tracker. They vanish on thermal like mist at sunrise. You’ll have one shot, brother.
I slip the phone into my pocket and plant both hands on the forge’s rim. The coals stir with a low, eager growl, recognizing the violence churning just beneath my skin. Heat climbs in a greedy tide, rushing through my veins and pulling sweat from my pores, a searing force that claims rather than comforts.
The forge exhales a breath of scorched iron and bitter ash, wrapping around me with the heavy promise of purpose. Every inhale tastes like fury reignited—smoke, old blood, and the heat of something ancient clawing to be born again.
I draw the silver pendant from my gear pocket, its surface cool and weighted with quiet potential. I’d forged it from dragon-steel—a legendary alloy of meteor-forged star-iron and purified human silver—it’s the rarest of metals, bonded through flame and oath.
Star-iron falls from the sky already touched by celestial fire, but only dragons can awaken it—reignite it—by fusing it in their breath, binding it to purpose. The result? A metal alive with memory and will, volatile and fiercely loyal to its maker. The moment my fingers close around it, the disc stirs, humming with energy that resonates deep in my chest. Not a lullaby—no, this isn’t gentle. It’s a summons. A call to action. A fire-song from the bones of the earth, demanding to be reborn.
Liv deserves more than words or warnings. She needs something tangible—something forged not just in flame, but in the essence of who and what I am. A symbol of the bond carved in fire and oath, carrying a part of my soul across the distance between us. Not just a talisman, but a sentinel—etched with memory, tempered with intent—that will find her, no matter how far the dark reaches.
