Page 20 of Taken

More images flood through the cracks. A dragon with moonlight scales—Caleb Craven? The Heartstone, glowing with inner fire. My daughter’s hands intertwined with his. And beneath it all, a shadow growing, spreading like ink through water.

“The Cravens,” I manage through gritted teeth, choosing my revelations carefully. “They’ve found something… powerful. Old magic. Dangerous.”

“What magic?” Creed presses. “What exactly have they found?”

I shake my head, pretending confusion. “Can’t see clearly. Something about… fire. Rebirth.”

“Not good enough.” He gestures to Hargen. “Increase potency.”

“Sir,” Hargen cautions, “her vitals are already—”

“I don’t care about her comfort,” Creed snaps. “I care about results.”

“I believe Hargen’s concern is functionality, not comfort.” Reeve’s voice cuts through the tension, his tenor dropping to something quieter yet somehow more commanding.

He moves to the monitors, studying the numbers with calculated indifference. “Pushing assets beyond their physiological limits yields diminishing returns.” He taps the screen showing my heart rate spiking into dangerous territory. “The data becomes unreliable at these levels. Hallucinations, false positives.”

My eyes snap to his face, surprise momentarily overriding pain.

Did he just… defend me?

Creed looks equally startled. “Your expertise is security, Reeve, not extraction methodology.”

“My expertise is asset management,” Reeve counters smoothly. “Which includes maximizing long-term viability.” His gaze meets mine briefly, emerald eyes intensifying. “Especially for rare resources.” He steps back, resuming his rigid posture. “Of course, the final decision is yours, sir.”

The room falls silent except for my ragged breathing and the steady beep of monitoring equipment. Creed’s face darkens with barely contained fury at being challenged, especially in front of me.

“Fine,” he finally concedes. “Maintain current levels, Cole. But I expect results.”

The extraction continues. Throughout it all, I feel Reeve’s eyes on me. Watching. Assessing. Not with the cold calculation I’ve come to expect, but with something more complex. More human. Which is odd, considering he’s part animal.

By the time they release me from the restraints, I’m trembling with exhaustion, sweat plastering my hair to my face. Blood trickles from my nose, as it always does. Hargen helps me sit up, his hand steady on my arm.

“Get her cleaned up,” Creed orders, already turning away. “I want feedback. Make sure it’s good this time.”

He stalks from the room, leaving me with Hargen and Reeve. An uncomfortable silence fills the space between us.

“Does this always happen?” Reeve asks, nodding toward the blood on my face.

“Only on good days,” I reply, voice hoarse from screaming.

His expression remains impassive, but I catch the slight tightening of his jaw.

“I’ll need a full briefing on extraction protocols, Cole. Including recovery procedures and maintenance schedules.” He inspects the equipment with meticulous attention. “Syndicate assets represent significant investment. Efficiency requires optimal conditions.”

His words are cold, but his eyes, when they briefly meet mine, are not.

“Yes, sir,” Hargen nods. “After Ms. Ross is returned to her quarters.”

Reeve nods once, crisp and professional. “Carry on, then. I’ll inspect the containment systems while you settle her.”

He turns to leave, his movements fluid and graceful. Just before he reaches the door, he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. Our eyes meet again, and in that brief contact, something electric passes between us—a current of recognition that makes no sense.

Then he’s gone, leaving me with questions I can’t afford to ask aloud.

Back in my quarters, Hargen helps me to the small couch.

“You should rest,” he says, checking the injection site on my arm.

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