The cabin touched down on a strip of private land in rural Montana just before dawn. Snow dusted the trees like ash. The wind was sharp enough to peel skin but Kian didn't feel it.
He was running on fury and something deeper. Something primal.
He had a daughter.
A whole life he didn't know about. Five years. Stolen. Buried. Lied about.
And she—Talia was the one who'd done it.
"Her guardian's name is Elise," Talia said quietly beside him as the SUV rumbled down the ice-slick road. "She's been with Nova since she was born."
Kian's knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
"I don't care who she is," he said. "If she's kept my daughter safe, I'll write her a blank check. But if she knew who I was and didn't tell me…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't have to.
The house sat at the end of a snow packed driveway. Modest. Quiet. Smoke rising from the chimney. Too peaceful for the storm walking toward it.
Kian got out first.
Boots crunching over frostbitten gravel.
Talia followed slowly behind. She hadn't spoken much during the flight. And now, her silence was louder than gunfire. When the door opened, a woman in her forties stepped out hair in a loose braid, eyes wary.
"Kian Donovan?" she asked.
He nodded.
Then Nova stepped into the doorway behind her and the earth stopped spinning.
She looked up at him with wide eyes.
Dark curls tumbled down her shoulders. Freckles dusted her nose. She wore a dinosaur hoodie and held a stuffed wolf in her small hand.
She blinked at him and his entire world caved in.
My daughter.
The resemblance hit like a punch to the ribs. Kian took one shaky step forward.
Nova tilted her head.
"Are you the man from Mommy's pictures?" Talia sucked in a breath behind him.
Kian's voice was hoarse. "Yeah. I think I am." She nodded solemnly.
"Mommy said you used to be strong. Like a dragon."
Kian dropped to one knee, eyes wet. "Maybe I was. But I've been looking for my fire ever since I lost her."
Nova stared at him for a long moment. Then she walked forward and placed the stuffed wolf in his hands.
"This is Blaze. He doesn't like strangers. But I think he likes you."
Kian laughed through the sting in his throat. "Yeah? Me too."
He looked up at Elise, who'd been watching quietly. "Thank you," he said, voice rough. "For keeping her safe."
Elise nodded. "She's smart. Brave. Like you, I guess."
Inside, the house was warm, but the atmosphere was anything but.
Talia sat across from Kian at the kitchen table, coffee untouched, silence boiling between them.
Nova was upstairs, Elise had taken her to get dressed. For a moment, they were alone.
Kian broke first.
"You were going to let me live my whole life never knowing."
Talia's eyes shimmered. "It wasn't like that."
"You had years, Talia."
"You were broken," she said. "So was I."
"Don't give me that," he snapped. "You made a choice."
Her voice cracked. "So did you when you believed I betrayed you without asking why."
He stood up, pacing the kitchen. Rage trembled in his hands.
"You let me grieve a ghost that wasn't dead. You let me sleep with strangers while my own daughter was calling another man Daddy—"
"She never has," Talia cut in sharply. "There was never another man."
Kian stopped cold.
Her eyes met his, furious and shining.
"She asked me once. If she had a father. I said yes. That he was powerful. That he was fire and smoke and thunder. That he loved her even if he didn't know her name."
Kian's rage cracked but didn't disappear.
"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because I didn't think you'd come back for me."
The words hung heavy in the room. They didn't look at each other. They couldn't not until Nova's voice floated down the stairs:
"Mommy? The man is crying."
Kian wiped his face quickly. Talia stood but Nova was already walking toward him, a small paper clutched in her hand.
"I drew this for you," she said. "You look lonely." He took the picture, it was a stick figure of a tall man with fire in his hands, holding the hands of a little girl with stars in her hair and right in the corner… A woman with a broken heart stitched together with red crayon.
He looked at Talia.
She looked away.
That night, Kian stayed in the guest room.
Talia lay awake in the next room, staring at the ceiling, hearing every creak of the house, every rustle of sheets and she couldn't stop wondering:
What if he takes her?
What if he decides this is too big to forgive?
What if he hates her forever?
She got up just after midnight. Walked to the window and froze.
There was a car parked just beyond the tree line.
Lights off. Engine dead.
Watching.
She rushed to Kian's room, pounded on the door he opened it instantly, shirtless, eyes alert. "What happened?"
"There's someone out there," she whispered within seconds, he grabbed his coat and gun from his bag. Moved past her like a soldier in battle mode.
She followed him through the snow, adrenaline crashing through her veins but by the time they reached the tree line…
The car was gone.
Just tire tracks and a single note pinned to the fencepost with a hunting knife.
You brought the fire. We'll bring the ash.
Kian read it, jaw clenched then he turned to her, voice like a growl.
"They know she's mine now."
Talia's breath hitched. "What do we do?"
He looked toward the house, then at her, then at the knife.
"We stop running."