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“Then she dies.” He shrugs, the casual gesture more terrifying than any threat. “Steele won’t hesitate to burn her out once he’s done with her. He’s Circle of Fire. Anything non-dragon is disposable to them.”

“Like the way you see me?” My voice is bitter.

“Worse,” he doesn’t pull any punches.

Emerson returns with the Shard, now mounted in a metallic frame with silver wires connected to a modified extraction apparatus.

“What have you done to it?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

“Modifications,” Emerson attaches electrodes to my temples. “Enhanced conductivity. Direct neural interface.”

“You can’t.” Panic rises, sharp and bright. “The Shard wasn’t designed for this.”

“Your daughter’s life hangs in the balance, Lila,” Creed says, cold and implacable. “Find her before Steele breaks her, and you both might survive this.”

He’s lying. I see it in his eyes. Even if I help them find Elena, they’ll never let either of us go.

But if I don’t try, Elena faces Steele alone.

“Why isn’t Hargen here?” I ask, stalling. “The binding requires his presence.”

“Not anymore,” Emerson activates the apparatus. “This circumvents the need for a buffer.”

The machine hums to life. The Shard’s glow intensifies, energy crackling through the wires into my skull. Fire explodes behind my eyes.

I reach through the pain for the fragile connection I’ve always maintained with Elena. The Shard’s energy follows my intent, amplifying the bond between mother and daughter.

Images flicker across my mind—fractured, jumbled. Elena bound to a chair. A dark cave. Dripping water.

“She’s underground,” I gasp, blood trickling from my nose. “But I sense the city above.”

“The underground system beneath Seattle,” Emerson says, fingers flying across her tablet.

“Specific location,” Creed demands.

I push harder, following the thread of connection. Pain lances through my skull, but I don’t stop. Elena needs me.

“Beneath the old city district,” I manage. “She’s afraid.”

“What’s Steele planning?” Creed leans closer, eagerness bleeding through his professional mask.

A vision slams into me with the force of a physical blow.

Steele forcing Elena’s hands onto the Heartstone—activating ancient magic. Wards failing, locks opening. Power surging through the building.

And behind it all, fire raining from the sky.

“They’re using her to access the Heartstone,” I choke out. “Tonight.”

While Creed and Emerson turn away, urgently discussing extraction plans, I close my eyes and surrender to the Shard differently. Not submission to their machine, but to the ancient connection it amplifies between mother and daughter.

“Elena,” I whisper internally, following our bond. The Shard’s power flows through me, channeled by maternal desperation.

Don’t let them break you, my love. Fight!

The effort tears something vital inside me—too much power forced through channels never designed to bear it.

“What’s going on with her?” Creed’s voice comes from a distance.

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