“Heat sink,” I croak. “Physics. Desperation. Take your pick.”
I stagger upright. My legs wobble but hold, muscles trembling from the strain. A wave of dizziness crashes through me, black dots dancing at the edges of my vision. My lungs scream, ribs tight with overuse, but my voice stays level—shaky, scorched, but unbroken. “Remember it if you’re ever boxed in. Not the fear. The fix.”
The others stare, wide-eyed and silent from the aftershock of survival.
Diaz catches up beside me, voice hoarse. “Thank you.”
I nod once, steadying my breath.
We all walk away.
Sometimes, survival isn’t about firepower or fury. It’s about knowing how to choke a fire with the last breath you’ve got left.
I give a curt nod, eyes scanning for movement, every muscle drawn taut. No time to bask in survival. The next threat’s already inbound.
Then the world jerks sideways again as Ruiz barrels into view, boots slamming down like accusations.
Ruiz barrels up, helmet askew, rage blazing. “Monroe! You just ignored...”
“Saved them,” I cut in, voice flat. “Ignis spiked the ridge with live thermite. Drill’s over.”
She points a shaking finger at my brand—glowing faintly through soot-caked Nomex. “That. Is. Not. Regulation.”
“No, ma’am,” I say, stepping closer so she feels the residual heat bleeding off my skin. “It’s survival. Yours, too.”
Her jaw works. “Hand over your radio and badge. You’re a threat to this crew.”
The trainees murmur—fear or support, I can’t tell—while Ruiz snaps cuffs from her belt. I catch Diaz’s eyes; he changes his grip on the hose, like he’ll swing it in my defense. Brave kid.
It starts deep inside me—not just burning, but vibrating, a resonance that shivers through bone and breath, a tuning fork forged in flame. For an instant, I feel what he feels: the rush of altitude, a scream of wind, a sudden drop. The metallic sting of blood mixes with a dizzying lurch in my gut.
Kade—don’t you dare die on me I will burn this canyon to the bedrock before I lose you.Through the chaos, my sigil spikes. Kade’s agony knifes into my sternum. Images flash: night sky, bullet heat, wings stalling. He’s falling.
Ruiz steps forward.
I step back—and pivot, sprinting for the nearest rescue ATV. An engine spark is all it takes; the machine growls awake as I leap onto the seat. Ruiz shouts, “Monroe, stand down!”
I gun the throttle. Gravel spits. Trainees scatter.
“Liv!” Ramirez calls, but the wind swallows the rest.
I yank the goggles down over my eyes and throw myself onto the ATV. The engine snarls beneath me, wheels tearing across uneven ground as I rip past gear caches, busted hose lines, and overturned cones. Sparks rain from a shattered floodlight overhead.
Smoke lashes across my vision—acrid, blinding—turning the canyon’s edge into a smear of heat and motion. Every jolt rattles my spine, the steering column jerking beneath my gloves as I swerve hard around a collapsed tripod, its emergency strobe still pulsing red. The tires fishtail, catch, and drive me forward.
Sirens flare behind me. Floodlights swing wild. None of it matters. Not with Kade out there. My lungs claw at the scorched air, but I don't stop. Won’t stop. Reputation, badge, command—just ash compared to the bond searing through my chest.
Ahead, canyon shadows loom like jagged teeth, sharp and merciless, mirroring the fractures in my own resolve—edges that will cut deep if I let fear slow me down.
The dust plume from the convoy still hangs in the distance, a grim, twisting trail leading straight into the firestorm.
Hold on, Kade. I’m coming.
Somewhere beyond the canyon mouth, muzzle flashes crack like lightning, a dragon roars—ragged, defiant—and the night answers with gunfire.
CHAPTER 15
GREER
