“I’m a doctor,” Elena replies, checking Zara’s pulse with clinical precision. “I don’t discriminate between patients based on species or political allegiance.”
“Admirable,” Zara says, though her tone suggests skepticism. She turns back to me. “Be careful, brother, before our ill-fated patrol, I overheard Viktor telling the elders you missed a strategic planning session the other night. He was looking for you. I managed to cover for you then, but you’d better watch your back at the aerie.”
The news sends a chill through me. Viktor never misses an opportunity to undermine my authority. “What did you tell him?”
“That you were meditating at the sacred pools, preparing for the next raid.” Zara attempts to sit up again, this time succeeding with Elena’s careful assistance. “He didn’t believe me.”
I curse under my breath. Viktor’s suspicions grow more dangerous by the day. “We need to return to the aerie immediately.”
“Not advisable,” Elena interjects. “Your sister’s condition has stabilized, but rapid altitude changes could trigger a relapse. She needs at least another day of observation.”
“We don’t have that luxury,” I reply, already calculating risks. “If Viktor discovers where we’ve been?—”
“Then go back without me,” Zara interrupts. “Say you’ve been searching for me, that I wandered off in a healing delirium.”
“I won’t leave you with ground-dwellers.”
Zara gives me a pointed look. “You already did, brother. And this one,”—she nods toward Elena—”has proven herself. I’ll be safer here than facing Viktor’s questions before I’m strong enough to defend myself.”
She’s right, though it pains me to admit it. Viktor would immediately sense the foreign magic in Zara’s healing. He’d use it as evidence of my corruption, of my unfitness to lead.
“One more day,” I concede reluctantly. “I’ll return tomorrow night.”
Elena steps forward. “Wait. Before you go, I need to know more. About the storm-touch, about what it means.” She glances at the vial of blood still clutched in her hand. “If I’m going to understand what’s happening to me, I need information, not just cryptic references to ancient magic.”
I look to the window where the first hints of dawn are appearing. Time grows dangerously short, but I can’t deny her request. Not when she holds my sister’s life in her hands. Not when the mate pull grows stronger with each passing moment.
“Tonight,” I promise. “When I return, we’ll talk properly. I’ll bring something that may help explain your heritage.”
“My heritage is purely human,” she insists, though with less conviction than before.
Zara makes a soft sound that might be laughter. “Keep telling yourself that, healer. Meanwhile, your hands are glowing again.”
Elena looks down in startled dismay at her fingers, which have indeed begun to emit a faint silver-blue light. She clenches her hands into fists, as if trying to physically contain the power leaking from her skin.
“This isn’t possible,” she whispers.
“And yet it’s happening,” I reply gently. “Some truths exist whether we accept them or not.”
I move to the window, calculating the safest flight path back to the aerie. “Keep Zara hidden. Tell no one she’s here.”
“My colleagues will notice if I’m spending time in quarantine for no reason,” Elena points out. “I’ll need a plausible explanation.”
“Tell them you’re running experiments that require isolation,” Zara suggests. “From what my brother says, your fascination with our kind is already well-known.”
Elena doesn’t deny this assessment, which I find oddly gratifying.
“I’ll return after midnight,” I say, preparing to shift. “Keep her safe.”
“I will,” Elena promises. “And Kael—” She hesitates, seemingly startled by her use of my name. “Be careful. Your lieutenant doesn’t strike me as someone who forgives perceived betrayal.”
The warning surprises me—not the content, but her concern for my safety. “Viktor is a problem I’ve managed for years,” I assure her, though we both know the situation has changed dramatically.
I step onto the window ledge, letting the cool morning air wash over me. The shift comes easily, my eagle form unfurling in a cascade of golden light. Before launching myself into the sky, I turn my head to look once more at Elena and my sister—one born of my blood, one bound to my future in ways I’m only beginning to understand.
The flight back to the aerie seems longer, each wingbeat carrying me further from the inexplicable pull of the healer. My mind circles the reality I’ve been avoiding since our first encounter: mate recognition. The rarest of Storm Eagle bonds, one that transcends mere attraction or compatibility. Our legends speak of such pairings as destiny, as magic that reshapes both participants into something greater than either could become alone.
But those legends never mentioned a bond with a ground-dweller.
