Page 26 of Taken

But there’s something in his eyes. A flash of… what? Regret? Determination? It’s gone before I can define it.

“I need to understand what’s happening with the Cravens,” he says, shifting topics. “Your visions are the best source we have.”

I’ve played this game long enough to know when to give something to get something. “Energy fluctuations. Power shifts. The Heartstone responding to something awakening.”

He goes very still, giving away more than he likely intends. “What kind of power?”

I hesitate, weighing risks. “Not dragon magic. Something else. Something that burns differently.”

His eyes sharpen with interest. No… recognition. “Fire?”

My heart stutters. He knows something. “Yes.”

“Not dragon fire,” he presses, voice dropping low.

“No.”

The intensity of his gaze pins me in place. “What kind, then?”

I take a step back, my hip bumping against the conference table. “Why do you care so much? You’re security, not research.”

He moves forward, closing the distance between us again. “Security requires understanding what we’re protecting against.”

“And what exactly are you protecting?” I challenge, my breath catching as he draws nearer.

“That depends on what you tell me.”

We’re too close now. The heat from his body radiates against mine, his scent filling my senses… It’s almost overwhelming, and my skin tingles. I press my palms against the cold surface of the table behind me, grounding myself against the pull I feel toward him.

His eyes drop to my mouth for just a second, pupils dilating. A muscle in his jaw tightens. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from licking my lips.

What the hell is wrong with you, Lila?

There’s no way I should be feeling this insane pull toward this man.

“What are you not telling Creed?” he asks, voice roughened.

I don’t mean to move toward him. My body betrays me, swaying slightly forward as if pulled by an invisible thread. His hand reaches out, not quite touching my arm, hovering in the space between us.

The air crackles with something beyond magic—something raw and dangerous.

“I—” My voice fails as his fingers brush my wrist, leaving a trail of fire across my skin.

The door slides open without warning.

Hargen stands on the threshold, his tall frame filling the doorway. His face freezes for a split second before smoothing into careful neutrality, but not before I catch the flash of alarm in his dark eyes as they move between us, noting our proximity. The silver ring on his left hand catches the light as his fingers tense against the doorframe.

Reeve steps back immediately, putting appropriate distance between us, but the damage is done. Hargen has seen enough to know this wasn’t a standard security assessment.

“Sir.” Hargen’s deep voice is perfectly controlled, betraying nothing. “Creed has requested your presence in Operations. Immediately.”

Reeve clears his throat, professional mask sliding into place so smoothly it’s hard to believe this is the same man whose stare was just burning into me. “Of course.”

His eyes meet mine one last time, filled with something unreadable.

“We’ll continue this assessment later, Ms. Ross.” His voice reverts to the cold authority of a Syndicate operative, but the lingering heat in his gaze contradicts his tone.

As Hargen escorts me back to my quarters, his familiar presence at my side, the silence between us feels weighted with unasked questions. My wrist still burns where Reeve’s fingers touched me, the sensation refusing to fade.

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