Page 56 of Taken

“Rest period granted,” Emerson tells me, not looking up from her notes. “Testing continues tomorrow at 0800.”

The guards come to escort me back to my quarters. I don’t resist, legs wobbling beneath me as I walk. The Shard’s energy lingers in my system, making the fluorescent lights too bright, the guards’ breathing too loud, the brush of fabric against my skin too intense.

But beneath the discomfort, satisfaction simmers. They have no idea what I’ve seen. What I’ve learned. The connection works both ways. Yes, I controlled the dragon, but I also accessed the Shard’s memories. Learned secrets about the Heartstone’s location. About the wards that protect it.

My quarters feel different when they deposit me inside, oppressive with the weight of new security measures. More cameras. Enhanced dampening fields that make my skin crawl. Two guards stationed permanently outside my door.

Hargen waits, medical case in hand. His eyes assess me as the door closes, cataloging symptoms efficiently.

“How bad?” he asks simply.

I sink onto the couch, the trembling intensifying now that I don’t care to hide it. “Bad enough.”

He kneels before me, checking my vitals without needing to be asked. The routine is familiar: my pulse beneath his fingers, pupils checked with a penlight, reflexes tested with gentle taps. His touch is clinical but not cold, the care beneath his professionalism as familiar as my own heartbeat.

“Blood pressure elevated,” he murmurs. “Neural activity spiking. Similar to post-extraction symptoms, but the pattern is different.”

“It feels different,” I admit. “More raw. Like being scraped out, then filled with something that doesn’t fit.”

He prepares a syringe, movements precise. “This will help with the tremors.”

I don’t flinch as the needle slides into my arm. The relief comes quickly, muscles unclenching as the medication takes effect.

“Did you see anything?” he asks, voice barely audible. His eyes flick to the camera in the corner.

“Yes.” I match his quiet tone. “The Heartstone’s location. It’s beneath Craven Industries. Heavily guarded.” It seems pointless to keep these things from him now that so many of my secrets have finally been exposed.

“Magic?”

I nod. “Some. And the Stone’s own protections. That’s why they need Elena.” The realization tightens my chest. “Her blood can unlock what’s been dormant for centuries.”

Hargen’s jaw clenches. “And once they have the Heartstone?”

“Game over. For all of us.” I close my eyes as another wave of tremors hits, weaker now but still uncomfortable. “Where’s Reeve? He’s normally around during these things.”

“Restricted access,” Hargen says grimly. “They’ve cut him off from this section. Creed’s orders.”

Alarm spikes through me. “Why?”

“No idea. You know Creed. He works to his own agenda.” Hargen packs away his medical supplies. “For now, rest. Recover your strength. You’ll need it.”

The unspoken hangs between us—the knowledge that whatever comes next will require every ounce of power I possess.

After he leaves, I curl on my side on the couch, too exhausted to move to the bed. The Shard’s energy continues to ripple through me, crimson echoes behind my closed eyelids. With it comes knowledge, impressions seeping into my consciousness even without physical contact.

The Heartstone wasn’t always a tool of control. Once, it was living fire—the crystallized heart of a being neither dragon nor human. When it shattered, the missing Shard took with itthe ability to direct its power without corruption. The piece I touched today is drawn to its whole, yearning for reunification.

Just like me and Elena.

Take care, my love.

Sleep comes in fitful bursts, dreams bleeding into visions—Elena in the Craven building, getting closer to the hidden chamber with each passing day; scales erupting across Caleb’s skin as he shields her from unseen threats; danger watching from shadows.

I wake to darkness, disoriented. The clock reads 2:37 a.m. Something pulled me from sleep—a presence, a change in the air.

“Lila.”

The whisper comes from the shadows near my bathroom door. I sit up slowly, pulse quickening as a figure steps into the faint moonlight streaming through my window.

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