“Not necessarily. The storm-touch can remain dormant for generations, activated only by proximity to powerful storm magic.” I glance meaningfully at my sleeping sister. “Or by necessity, when healing is required.”
Elena shakes her head, but I can see uncertainty in her expression. “I’m a geneticist. I’ve studied my own DNA extensively. There were no shifter markers.”
“You were looking for physical transformation markers. Storm-touch is different—more subtle, more elemental.” I hesitate, then make a decision. Reaching inside my leather tunic, I withdraw a small vial of golden liquid. “This may help answer your questions.”
She takes it cautiously. “What is it?”
“My blood. Freely given, not taken in battle or theft.” The distinction matters in Storm Eagle culture—blood freely given carries intent, purpose, power. “Compare it to your own. You’ll find similarities your instruments couldn’t detect before.”
Elena stares at the vial with naked scientific hunger that makes me oddly proud. The healer may deny magic, but she craves understanding with a passion I recognize.
“Why would you give me this?” she asks. “It could be used against your people.”
“The same reason you saved my sister when you could have called guards to capture me,” I reply. “Because something tells you this matters more than the conflicts between our peoples.”
She doesn’t deny it, which feels like its own kind of victory.
“There’s something else,” I continue, nodding toward Zara. “When you healed her, you didn’t just repair damage. You altered her genetic structure slightly.”
Elena’s face pales. “That’s not possible. I wouldn’t?—”
“Not intentionally,” I assure her. “But the storm-touch in your blood resonated with her eagle nature. She’s stronger now, her connection to storm magic enhanced.” I meet Elena’s troubled gaze. “And it goes both ways. Your contact with her has further awakened your own abilities.”
“How can you know that?”
“I can see it. The storm aura around you has intensified since yesterday.” I reach out slowly, telegraphing my movement, and touch her hand. A small spark jumps between our fingers. “Feel that? Your energy recognizes mine.”
She doesn’t pull away as I expected. Instead, she stares at our connected hands with the same analytical focus she might give a laboratory specimen. “This defies everything I understand about biology.”
“Perhaps your understanding is incomplete.”
This earns me a sharp look, pride flashing in her eyes. “Or perhaps your magical explanations are simplistic substitutes for complex bioenergetic phenomena.”
I laugh, genuinely delighted by her stubborn defense of science. “We could debate terminology all night, but it doesn’t change what’s happening between us.”
“And what exactly is happening between us?” she challenges.
The question brings us to dangerous territory. I should leave, take Zara, and never return to this settlement. The mate pull is unmistakable now—a compulsion in my blood, a need to be near this infuriating, brilliant human who challenges everything I thought I knew.
Our traditions are clear: mating outside the clan is forbidden. The punishment is exile at best, execution at worst. And that’s for ordinary clan members, not the Stormwright himself.
Yet here I stand, unable to tear myself away from this ground-dweller who glows with storm light.
“Kael?” Zara’s voice, weak but clear, interrupts the moment. “When did you come back?”
I move quickly to my sister’s side, relief flooding through me as her golden eyes focus on my face. “Just now. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been dropped from the highest peak,” she says, wincing as she tries to sit up. “But alive. Which is unexpected.”
Elena approaches cautiously from the other side of the bed. “You should lie still. Your body needs time to adjust to the accelerated healing.”
Zara’s gaze shifts to Elena, sharpening with interest. “You’re the human healer. I remember your hands… they glowed.” She looks between us, her expression growing troubled. “Brother, what have you done?”
The question carries layers of meaning only another Storm Eagle would understand. What traditions have you broken?What laws have you defied? What consequences have you brought upon our clan?
“What I had to,” I answer simply. “You were dying.”
Zara studies Elena with the keen assessment of a born diplomat. “You saved me. A Storm Eagle. Why?”
