Page 62 of Fated By Fire

The soft chime of an incoming message pulls me from my reverie. It’s from an unknown number.

We have eyes everywhere. You can’t protect her forever.

Chapter 23

Elena

I drop my duffel bag onto the worn wooden floor of the cabin, the thud echoing in the quiet space. The place is rustic—a one-room cabin with a small kitchenette, a stone fireplace, and a bed tucked into the corner.

The place is rustic and cozy, if not a little rough around the edges. I run a hand over the faded quilt on the bed, absently tracing the intricate patterns. This is my safe house now, at least according to Caleb. Hidden away from the Syndicate, from dragons, from a world I didn’t know existed until a few days ago.

“Home sweet home,” I say beneath my breath as I wander around the room, pushing the drapes aside and peering out the windows. There’s not much to see outside apart from rock faces and towering pines beyond where I’ve parked my Jeep alongside the cabin. A far cry from the bright lights I’m accustomed to, but maybe that’s a good thing.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, pulling out my laptop. The glow of the screen illuminates the dim room as I connect to the spotty Wi-Fi Caleb somehow set up out here. Might as well put my investigator skills to work. If I’m going to be holed up in this cottage, I need answers.

First up: The Syndicate. I type the name into the search bar, hitting enter with a tap that’s a little too forceful. Results fill the screen—music groups, business jargon, a video game clan. Nothing remotely related to a secret society of dragons hell-bent on… whatever it is they’re hell-bent on. I try pairing it with “dragons,” “mythology,” “Craven Industries,” but all I get are fantasy novels and conspiracy theory forums.

“Hello, Mara’s world,” I murmur. Frustrated, I shift gears. “Blackthorn Consulting.” There’s still no website, but a Facebook page loads—an unpopulated profile with a corporate logo and a generic mission statement about “innovative solutions for modern businesses.” No staff listings, no contact information beyond an email address. It’s a dead end, a front. I should’ve expected as much.

With a sigh, I lean back and rub my eyes. My world has turned upside down, and the internet—my usual ally—isn’t cooperating.

Fine. Let’s embrace the crazy.

I start researching dragons. Legends, myths, historical accounts. There’s an overwhelming amount of information, but it’s all wrapped up in folklore and fantasy. Dragons guarding treasure, terrifying villages, being slain by valiant knights. None of it matches the sleek, powerful creature that rescued me from Blackthorn’s clutches. The creature that is, impossibly, Caleb.

I glance at the door, half expecting him to walk in, all brooding intensity and guarded eyes. But he’s gone, off to… I don’t even know. Fight rogue dragons? Negotiate with clan elders? The fact that this is my life now is almost laughable.

I close the laptop, setting it aside. Exhaustion seeps into my bones, a heavy weight that settles over me. I didn’t realize how tired I was until this moment. Kicking off my boots, I crawl under the quilt, its fabric soft against my skin. The cabin is quiet, the only sounds the faint rustling of leaves outside and the distant call of night birds.

Sleep pulls at me, and I don’t resist.

I’m standing in a meadow bathed in golden light. Wildflowers stretch as far as the eye can see, their vibrant colors swaying gently in the breeze. Ahead, I see her—my mother. She turns to me, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, gray eyes just like mine lighting up with a warm smile.

“Mom?” I call out, my voice echoing unnaturally.

“Elena,” she says softly, beckoning me forward. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

I move toward her, but the distance between us doesn’t close. No matter how fast I run, she’s always just out of reach.

Suddenly, the sky darkens. The sun fades, swallowed by swirling clouds. The meadow withers, flowers turning to ash under my feet. Fear grips my heart.

A new figure emerges beside my mother—a woman who could be her twin, though she’s dressed in flowing robes that belong to another era. Lyria. I know her name without being told.

“They’re coming,” Lyria whispers, her eyes filled with sorrow. “You must be strong.”

Before I can ask what she means, shadows descend upon them—dark, serpentine shapes with gleaming scales and razor-sharp teeth. Dragons. But these aren’t like Caleb. They’re menacing, eyes burning with malice.

“Run!” my mother screams.

I try to reach them, but the ground crumbles beneath me. I fall into darkness, their screams echoing around me. The Heartstone appears then, hovering before me—a crystal pulsating with a fierce red light. It beats like a heart, each pulse sending out waves of energy that make my skin prickle.

The dragons turn their attention to the Heartstone, eyes hungry. Lyria and my mother stand defiantly before it, their hands raised as if casting a protective barrier.

“You must protect it,” they say in unison, their voices blending together.

The dragons attack, and just as claws and teeth tear into them, I wake up.

I bolt upright, a cold sweat clinging to my skin, heart hammering against my ribs. The room is dark, shadows stretching across the walls. It takes a moment to remember where I am—the cottage, the safety Caleb promised.

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