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“Did he get what he wanted?” Hargen finally asks.

What does he mean by that?

I glance at him, searching his face for judgment. “Information about my visions? Not really.”

Hargen’s eyes meet mine briefly, knowing and concerned. “Be careful, Lila. New elements are always unpredictable.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak further. My body still hums with awareness, with the strange pull I felt toward the man.

Allard Reeve is not what he seems.

And that makes him either the most dangerous person in this facility—or something else completely.

Chapter 9

Talon

The Syndicate’s briefing room reeks of ambition and stale coffee. Six dragons in human skin arranged around a polished oak table, the air between us charged with power barely contained. I’ve been here thirty minutes, and already, my scales are shifting beneath my skin.

“Containment protocols on the Rossewyn witch are inadequate.” I keep my voice flat, disinterested—just another briefing. “The dampening field fluctuates during extractions. Drops twelve percent at peak moments.”

Creed’s jaw tightens. “Impossible. Those systems were upgraded last quarter.”

“See for yourself.” I slide the tablet across the table, data scrolling in neat columns. “Three consistent dips during yesterday’s session.”

He studies the numbers, forehead creasing with disapproval. Behind him, two junior officers shift uncomfortably. Everyone in this room knows what failure costs in the Syndicate hierarchy.

“These fluctuations coincide with her resistance spikes,” I add, careful to sound like I’m addressing a technical issue rather than defending her. “Suggests she’s accessing more power than previously documented.”

“Not possible.” The words snap from Dr. Emerson, the facility’s chief researcher. Gray hair pulled into a severe twist, lips permanently pursed in disapproval. “The witch’s abilities are fully documented and countered.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Then explain the data.”

Emerson flushes, scales briefly rippling beneath her skin. “Equipment malfunction. Nothing more.”

“Then you won’t mind if I implement additional security measures.” I don’t phrase it as a question. “Including a full review of handler protocols.”

The room temperature drops several degrees.

“Cole’s methods are proven,” Creed says, too quickly. “His record speaks for itself.”

“Without successful escape,” I correct. “Not the same thing.”

The silence stretches, loaded with unspoken warnings. My dragon senses shift, alert to the subtle changes in their scents—the metallic tang of anxiety, the smoky edge of anger.

“I want to understand Cole’s part in this,” I say, watching for reactions. “How does he control her?”

“Why is that necessary?” Creed scowls.

“If her power is fluctuating, we need to understand all containment measures.”

Creed and Emerson exchange a look loaded with meaning.

“Cole’s assignment was strategic,” Emerson says carefully. “His background makes him uniquely suited to managing the asset.”

“His background.” I let the words hang, invitation clear.

After a long pause, Creed nods once at Emerson. Permission granted.

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