“Your orders?” Viktor’s laugh holds no humor. “Your orders have become suspect, Stormwright. When my warriors observed you flying alone toward enemy territory night after night, Iauthorized reconnaissance to determine what threat you might be bringing back to our people.”
“You had me followed?” The lightning between my fingers intensifies, crackling audibly in the quiet chamber.
“I had our clan protected,” Viktor corrects smoothly. “And it seems my caution was justified. Explain this.” He gestures to the vial. “Explain why your blood is in the hands of a ground-dweller scientist known for researching shifter weaknesses.”
Every eye in the chamber turns to me. I could lie, create some explanation about being wounded and captured, but such deception would only compound my situation when inevitably discovered. And I refuse to dishonor Elena by denying what she means to me—even if I’m not ready to admit the full truth.
“I provided that sample voluntarily,” I say, my voice steady despite the risk I’m taking. “To aid in medical research that could benefit both our peoples.”
The chamber erupts in shocked exclamations. Elder Tempest rises from her seat, her face twisted with disgust. “You gave our blood—your blood—to the ground-dwellers? Willingly?”
“To one ground-dweller,” I clarify. “A healer who saved Zara’s life when our own methods failed. A scientist seeking understanding, not weapons.”
“Zara’s life?” Elder Talon’s voice cuts through the uproar. “What is this about your sister?”
I hadn’t wanted to reveal this, but now I have no choice. “When Zara was wounded in the Dire Wolf attack last month, our healers could not save her. I made the decision to seek help from a ground-dweller with exceptional healing abilities.”
“You took a wounded Storm Eagle to the ground-dwellers?” Commander Gale asks, disbelief evident in his voice. “Without Council approval?”
“I took my dying sister to the only person who could save her,” I reply sharply. “And she lives because of that decision.”
Viktor seizes this admission like the predator he is. “So you admit to unauthorized contact with the enemy, compromise of clan security, and exposure of our bloodline to scientific study?”
“I admit to saving my sister’s life,” I counter. “I admit to exploring possibilities beyond our isolated existence. I admit to seeking solutions that might prevent our clan’s slow starvation.”
“Noble sentiments,” Viktor says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yet you kept these actions secret from the Council. Why, if your intentions were so pure?”
I have no good answer that doesn’t involve revealing the mate bond. The truth—that I’ve been meeting Elena because we are drawn together by forces beyond our control—would only strengthen Viktor’s position.
My silence becomes damning in the eyes of the Council. Elder Talon sighs heavily, looking suddenly ancient beneath the weight of this decision.
“The laws are clear, Stormwright. Unauthorized contact with ground-dwellers, especially sharing our blood, is punishable by exile. But given your position and your past service to our clan, the Council will deliberate before rendering judgment.”
Viktor steps forward, his expression triumphant beneath a thin veneer of concern. “With respect, Elder Talon, there is a more serious matter to consider.” He turns to address the entire Council. “The Stormwright’s behavior shows signs of ground-dweller corruption—a malady our ancestors warned against. The human female he has been meeting in secret is no ordinary healer. My scouts report she possesses strange abilities. Her hands glow with unnatural light when she works.”
Ice forms in my stomach. They’ve been watching Elena too.
“What are you suggesting, Commander?” Elder Tempest asks, leaning forward with interest.
“I believe the Stormwright has fallen under the influence of a ground-dweller witch,” Viktor declares. “This would explainhis increasingly erratic behavior, his growing reluctance to strike decisively against Haven’s Heart settlements, his abandonment of our clan’s most sacred traditions.”
The accusation is so absurd I almost laugh, but the serious expressions on the Council’s faces stop me. They’re actually considering this.
“This is nonsense,” I say firmly. “I have not been bewitched or corrupted. My decisions are my own, made for the survival and benefit of our clan.”
“Then you won’t object to the traditional test,” Viktor suggests smoothly. “Separation from the source of corruption, combined with ritual purification, will reveal the truth.”
Elder Talon nods slowly. “The old ways may be best in this case. Until the Council reaches its decision, you will be confined to the purification chamber, Stormwright. If your mind is clear, you have nothing to fear.”
The purification chamber—an ancient cell deep within the mountain, cut off from sky and storm, designed to drain magical influence through ritual isolation. A place I’ve never thought to find myself.
“And who will lead in my absence?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“As First Lieutenant, Stormwarden Viktor will assume temporary leadership duties,” Elder Talon states, looking troubled despite his decision. “For the good of the clan.”
Just as Viktor planned. I look around the chamber, seeing uncertainty on many faces, but none are willing to challenge the Council’s invocation of ancient law. Even my supporters appear conflicted, unsure what to believe about my unexplained absences and secret meetings.
“I submit to the Council’s will,” I say formally, because fighting now would only strengthen Viktor’s claims aboutcorruption. “But I request that my sister be informed of the situation.”
