But the fire roared, devouring her mother’s voice, her father’s promise. Danni’s magic pulsed, black and oily, slithering into Rory’s mind. The woman’s voice hissed in her ear, cold as the grave. “You don’t need them. Forget. They’re ashes now, and you belong to me.”

  “No!” Rory’s small fists beat against Danni’s arms. “I don’t! You’re not my mother!”

  The world heaved, the pain blinding. Rory felt her memories, her real ones, being dragged away, wrapped in choking darkness. Her parents’ faces blurred, their voices twisted into nothing. And through the chaos, one last image, sharp as broken glass: firefighters wrapping a tiny, soot-smeared body in a blanket, cradling her sister as gently as a bundle of hope. Rory screamed and fought and reached, but the smoke swallowed her sister’s face.

  She never knew if her baby sister lived. Danni’s spell buried it, locked it away, and Rory had grown up believing she was alone. She tried to hold on, clutching at fleeting images: her father swinging her in the garden, her mother’s lullaby at bedtime with her and Aurora, the way they smelled of earth and cinnamon and summer rain.

  Danni’s magic tightened, squeezing out the last of the light. Rory’s head throbbed, her chest constricting. The fire was gone. There was only a cold, endless hallway, doors slamming shut one by one, locking her away from herself. Now, as the spell broke, the truth came roaring back—she had a sister. She would be eleven or twelve now. If she was alive.

  Rory’s knees buckled in the dark, pain and hope warring in her chest. The darkness tried to smother her again, but Penny’s voice cut through: You’re not alone, kid. She doesn’t get to win. Not now. Dig deeper. Make her regret ever touching your soul.

  Rory let out a shuddering breath. “I want them back,” she whispered, not to Penny, not even to herself, but to that stubborn, unbroken part of her soul.

  The darkness pushed harder. Danni’s laughter echoed, cruel and victorious: “You’re nothing without me. Weak. Empty. You couldn't even save your sister, a helpless babe.”

  But Rory’s anger surged, now burning bright with the memory of Aurora. “No. I am not yours. I am my own. I’m a daughter, a sister, a soul bonded mate, a friend, a dragonrider and even a witch, but not the kind you tried to mold me into. I am not empty.”

  She fought her way up, staggering, clawing at the locked doors in her mind, Penny’s magic wedged in the cracks. She remembered, with so much more detail, falling to her knees scraping the earth as her captive dragged her from the burning house. She’d begged Danni not to take her, the way her voice had cracked from screaming her sister’s name, hoping—praying—she’d survived. She remembered the moment hope died and hatred was born. The years after Danni’s lies, the cold, endless lessons, the way she was always punished for any hint of defiance or joy. Memories swirled, painful and bright and raw, until her whole body shook with the effort of holding on.

  Another door yielded, just a crack. Behind it, her mother’s voice, soft and fierce: You are more than their darkness, Rory. You are made of light, and you shine brighter than the stars.

  The words blazed inside her, burning away the oily shadows. She saw her sister’s face, round-cheeked, big-eyed, beaming up at her with trust. Rory threw herself at the door, teeth bared, and it burst open. Light exploded, flooding her mind with every memory, every loss, every truth, including the fierce, unbreakable love she’d had for Aurora. She saw her parents as they truly were: loving, brave, flawed, real. She saw herself, not as Danni’s tool or a broken child, but as someone worthy of love and vengeance and hope.

  The magic that had bound her snapped like a cheap thread. Danni’s hold recoiled and vanished. Rory gasped, chest heaving, not with weakness, but with fury and pride.

  Rory’s eyes flew open. “I have a sister,” she gasped. For a second, the world spun, too bright, too loud. She was shaking, sweat slick on her skin, but her gaze was sharp, defiant. Aston was there, arms ready, but she didn’t collapse into him; she just grabbed his hand, squeezing tight, anchoring herself to now. She looked up into his concerned face. “Aurora. That’s her name. My baby sister.”

  Aston brushed sweaty hair away from her face and pressed his warm hand to her clammy skin. “We will find out what happened to her. I promise you, I’ll find her.”

  Rory had no doubt that if anyone could hunt down someone in this digital age, her man could do it.

  Across from her, Penny was pale and trembling, but grinning with exhausted satisfaction. “You did it, Rory,” she managed, voice rough. “You broke her. Not the other way around.”

  Rory wiped her eyes. There would be no tears, just sweat and triumph. “I did. And I remember everything. She made me forget, but I wasn’t going to let her win. Not after taking my memories of Aurora.” Her voice was steel. She looked around at those who supported her and had become family.

  Aston’s relief was a soft exhale. Kimba’s eyes shone with approval. Gabby looked like she wanted to throw a party. Even Osiris seemed less distant, a faint nod acknowledging her courage.

  Penny smirked, swiping a hand across her brow. “I’ve seen a lot of stubborn in my day, but you might take the cake. Remind me never to babysit your future kids.”

  Rory grinned, the anger in her eyes now a weapon she could wield. “Don’t worry, you’re off the hook. But I might need you for revenge babysitting.”

  Liam let out a low whistle. “Remind me never to let Rory watch our kids.”

  Gabby elbowed him. “Kids are a long, long, loooong way off.”

  The group closed in, their support fierce and tangible. For the first time, Rory felt not just remembered, but real herself, whole, and burning for payback.

  Penny, breathless but proud, managed, “You’re a hell of a lot more than Danni ever saw. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”

  Rory nodded, jaw set, eyes blazing. “She took my family. But I gained a new one. She tried to make me into a puppet who would spread her evil. But all she did was create someone ready to kick evil’s ass.” She squeezed Aston’s hand and lifted her chin, daring the world to try her. “And if Aurora is alive,” her voice cracked a little on the word, but she shored herself up. “I will get her back and keep her safe.”

  Aston squeezed her hand, and Kimba stepped closer, her presence a shield and a comfort.

  “We’ll help you, Rory,” Kimba said, her voice gentle but sure. “We’ll find her together. That’s what family does.”

  “I say we kick some demon ass and burn some dark elementals," Gabby said as she snapped her fingers, making a flame appear. “And find the other half of the Roar sisters."

  “Roar sisters?” Aston asked.

  Gabby smirked, “Rory and Aurora? Double roars going on, hence the Roar sisters. I thought you were a genius or something. Just don’t got street smarts, do ya?” She waved him off. “No worries, me and Roar got more than enough to keep you covered. You just do your techy thing and find Little Roar.”

  “Little Roar,” Rory said softly. “I like that.”

  “If she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’s got claws to go with her roar,” Kimba said, humor dancing in her blue eyes. “Not to mention she’s probably a sassy little heifer.”

  Rory laughed at the way Penny’s eyes widened.

  “While, I am in agreement that you all should definitely kick demon ass and find the little tiger,” Penny began, “Rory is going to need a couple days to recoup. I just broke a major spell on her and though I know she feels better,” she looked at Rory pointedly, “there is healing that must take place.”

  Gabby sighed. “Ugh, it seems just like a witch to rain on someone’s stabby parade.”

  Penny frowned. “I have no idea what that even means. But if it’s remotely on the topic of using common sense, then yes, I’m down pouring on your crazy.”

  “I agree,” Kimba spoke up. “I will not be going anywhere until I’m sure you’re ready. Meanwhile, we can get Aston any sort of technical equipment he needs.” She met Rory’s eyes and she knew she wouldn’t change her dragon-bonded’s mind. Kimba was every bit as stubborn as she was.

  “Computers,” Tara said. “You’re talking about computers. And the internet. Can you get the internet in the dragon realm?”

  The dragon king huffed, causing smoke to come out of his snout. “We’re beings of magic. We can get any kind of net, inter or outer.”

  “Oh snap.” Gabby shook her head. “You’re going to have to dumb it down for the reptiles, Aston.”

  “Fine, as long as Aston can get started,” Rory huffed. “I’ll rest. But I expect shirtless male training, purely for learning purposes, while I’m out of commission. It will be a good distraction from worrying about Aurora. Which is all I’ll be doing.”

  “I second that.” Gabby raised her hand.

  “Yup.” Tara rubbed her hands together.

  Shelly started to open her mouth but snapped it shut when Ra gave her a stern look and simply shook his head.

  Penny looked at the group and then Rory. “And you guys think witches are strange?”

  CHAPTER 13

  “Hope is nothing but kindling to those who know how to set the world on fire.”

  ~Viscious

  Tinley’s boots squelched on waterlogged asphalt, the acrid bite of smoke stinging her nostrils. Sirens wailed, echoing off the low clouds, and the scent of burning plastic and scorched wood clung to the damp spring air. The red-and-blue strobes from the fire trucks painted the world in frantic, pulsing color. She pressed a sleeve to her mouth, breathing through the thick haze, and tried not to flinch as another window exploded on the eighth floor, glass raining down like lethal confetti.

  Beside her, Crey squeezed her hand, his palm rough, grounding. “You okay?”

  Tinley nodded, scanning the chaos. “Fine. Better once we see those kids make it out.”

  To their left, Riggs and Lark crouched to the side of a battered dumpster, their focus split between the burning building and the currents of air swirling at their feet. The fog they conjured rolled in heavy off the river, swirling around the soul bonded like a living shield. It muffled the shouts of firefighters and bystanders, turning the world into a surreal blur of movement and flame.

  Somewhere behind them, Rush and Brianna murmured, hands linked, ready to dart wherever they were needed. Lawson stood at Tinley’s other side, jaw tight, eyes reflecting the orange glow. Cara was a step behind, her posture deceptively casual, every muscle ready to spring.

  The heat radiating from the building was oppressive, prickling Tinley’s skin even from across the street. She could feel the vibration of distant helicopters in her bones and the grit of soot settling in her hair. Every breath tasted of fear and adrenaline.

  The first firefighter stumbled out of the main entrance, a limp, soot-smeared child in his arms. A keening sound rose from the crowd, followed by the frantic bark of orders. Tinley’s soul vibrated with certainty: That one. That child is a Mark. She exchanged a look with Crey, who nodded grimly. They’d follow this one to the hospital, keep watch, make sure the dark elementals didn’t get there first.

  Then the air shifted—colder, sharper, prickling along the back of her neck. A sulfurous scent curled beneath the smoke, familiar and unwelcome. Shadows twisted between the flames, coalescing into hunched, bone-thin shapes with burning red eyes. Demons. Three of them, slinking along the alley’s edge, hungry for chaos and the fresh, frightened souls of children.

  Riggs hissed a warning, hands lifting. Lark’s fog thickened, swirling tighter as she summoned a raw gust of wind, sending one demon tumbling back in a tangle of limbs and hissing curses. Rush and Brianna moved like a single force. She spun a vortex of air that lifted another demon off its feet, while Rush’s power slammed it into the side of a fire truck with a sickening crunch.

  Crey’s hand burned in Tinley’s, fire racing across his knuckles. “You take the left?”

  She nodded, stepping forward, magic flaring in her veins. Cara and Lawson closed in beside her, Cara’s flames leaping from her palms, Lawson’s eyes cold and furious. Together, they drove the last demon into a corner, Tinley’s fire joining theirs in a blaze so hot it turned the demon to ash, the scent of burning sulfur mixing with the sharper tang of her own adrenaline.

  Panting, Tinley wiped sweat and soot from her brow. “That’s three down. Any more?”

  Lark scanned the shadows. “Not yet. But you know how it goes. They're like cockroaches. Stomp one, two more show up.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a vibration sharp and persistent against her thigh. She fumbled it out, squinting at the screen. Aston’s name flashed. Not a text, a call. That probably meant things were about to get serious.

  She swiped to answer, tucking the phone to her ear just as a burst of banter exploded on the other end. The soundscape was a mess: voices overlapping, someone laughing, someone else groaning.

  “Aston, you there?” Tinley asked, raising a finger to her free ear to block out the chaos around her.

  “We’ve got news, and we need you to—” Aston began, his voice sounding faintly tinny, like he was talking through a tin can with a doctorate.

  Rory’s voice cut through, loud enough to make Tinley wince. “I’ve got a sister, bitches!”

  Tinley snorted, relief flooding her chest. If Rory was back to shouting, maybe she’d gotten over the whole Kimba-queen bombshell. “You sound chipper, Rory,” she drawled. “That mean you’ve forgiven Kimba for her royal deception?”

  “Don’t push it, Tin,” Rory shot back, but there was laughter in her voice.

  Gabby’s cackle rang out. “Let the geek speak, Roar. Aston’s hacking skills are legit hot.”

  Liam, sounding personally offended and at least half a city block away, grumbled, “Can we not compliment the nerd while I’m standing right here?”

  “Jealous, Babe?” Gabby teased, and Tinley could practically hear her wiggling her eyebrows.

  Aston,, ever the patient one, cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I hacked into the DHS system, trying to cross-reference kids with deceased parents in the last decade. But do you have any idea how many states don’t update their records? It’s like trying to search through a pile of matchsticks for a toothpick. So I switched tactics. I wrote a program to scan court filings for any child placed in state care after a house fire eleven years ago, then filtered by age and missing sibling reports. Much faster. I’m running it through every county with a fire in the last twelve years. Preliminary results are promising⁠—”

  Rory groaned. “Aston, get to the important part! Did you find her or not?”

  Gabby, sighing in a way that was definitely not subtle, said, “Let the man monologue, Rory. It’s sexy.”

  “Still right here, Gabs,” Liam deadpanned.

  Gabby shrugged. “But you don’t have to be right here. Aston’s tech jargon bores you to tears. You could go out and do some more training with the dragons. Just try not to get your clothes burned off this time.”

  “Not leaving you here to drool over geek boy, and he wouldn’t have been able to singe off my clothes if you and Shelly hadn’t gotten distracted by Ra taking his damn shirt off,” Liam added, and Tinley grinned at the growl she could hear in his words. “As if you hadn’t seen a shirtless man before.”

  Ra’s deep voice rolled over the line, dry as dust. “Just bring your woman with you, problem solved.”

  “And what about the shirt problem?” Liam bit out.

  There was no inflection in Ra’s voice when he answered, “Work out more, and your mate will look at you.”

  “That’s it. I’m killing the last pharoah,” Liam’s voice practically bellowed through the phone.

  A pause, then Tara’s voice, sweet but stern: “Elias, be nice. And stop calling everyone bloody wankers. How about you help keep Liam from attempting to kill Ra, which we all know would just end up with him getting his ass kicked?”

  “That’s what they are, Love,” Elias answered in that thick, British accent. “Bunch of bloody wankers, unable to focus for five minutes. Oy, Liam quit trying to drown Ra. He's going to quit going easy on you one of these days, and you’re going to get the shite beat out of you.”

  Shelly’s voice poked in. “Sorry about the crazy. They’re getting restless. How are you guys holding up out there? Need anything?”

  Tinley glanced at the burning building, at the children being carried out one by one, at Crey’s grim face. “We’re good. Busy. Lots of fire, and not enough hands. Demons tried to sneak by, but we sent them packing.”

  “Let us know if you need a dragon airlift,” Ra offered, deadpan.

  Rush piped up from the background, “A dragon Uber would be nice about now. The traffic’s murder.”

  Brianna snorted. “If you can get the dragons to fit in the hospital parking lot, without them crushing any cars or being noticed, I’ll buy the first round of drinks.”

  Lark’s voice rang out, muffled but amused, “Priorities, Bri. First we save the kids, then we drink.”

  Aston was still speaking, oblivious to the chaos, his tone growing more animated. “I’m narrowing it down. I’ve got three viable leads, all girls about eleven years old, all missing siblings after fires. One girl is named Auri. Rory’s sister’s name was Aurora, but if she was adopted, her name could have been changed, and they might have tried to keep it close to her original name. I’m thinking she is the strongest possibility. Her file is sealed, but I’m working on cracking the encryption. Should have more details soon.”

  “Why is her file sealed?” Tinley asked.

  “That’s what I asked,” Rory agreed. “I’m worried it means that maybe the dark side has found her, and they are trying to cover her up or fly her under the radar.”

  Tinley felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. That name, Aurora, it felt familiar. She looked over at Crey who was watching her closely. “I’m sure we’ve come across at least one Aurora in our time,” she told him. “But, I’m getting a feeling, in my gut that we’ve come across this Aurora at some point.”