“How did you find me?” Kael asks after several minutes of silence.
“Energy tracking. Modified Haven’s Heart tech.” Each word requires effort. “Followed the lightning signature.”
His hand strokes my hair, surprisingly gentle for someone who could summon storms with a thought. “Viktor will believe I’m dead. The clan saw me fall.”
“What happened?”
Kael’s body tenses beneath me. “Challenge fight. Viktor… he had evidence of our meetings. Claimed I was corrupted by ground-dweller influence.”
Cold fear penetrates my exhaustion. “He knows about me?”
“He knows I’ve been meeting someone. Not who. Not what.” His voice drops lower. “He timed the challenge perfectly. The elders were already questioning my leadership due to food shortages. All he needed was proof of my… distraction.”
“And now he’s clan leader,” I whisper, the full implications hitting me. Viktor, with his hatred of ground-dwellers and fanatical belief in Storm Eagle superiority, now controls the most powerful aerial fighting force in the territories.
“He won’t stop with supply raids,” Kael confirms my unspoken fear. “He’ll push for full war with Haven’s Heart. He’s been advocating for it for years.”
I try to sit up, but my body refuses to cooperate. “We have to warn them.”
“We can barely move,” he points out, his hand continuing its gentle stroking of my hair. “And I doubt your people would listen to a Storm Eagle’s warning, especially one accompanied by a traitorous researcher.”
He’s right, of course. I’ve burned my bridges with Haven’s Heart. Even Marcus couldn’t protect me now that I’ve actively helped the enemy. But I can’t just lie here while Viktor prepares for war.
“How long until you can fly?” I ask.
Kael shifts slightly, testing his newly healed body. “Hours. Maybe a day. Whatever you did—” He stops, looking down at me with sudden understanding. “You used life force transfer. The old magic.”
I nod weakly. “Read about it in ancient texts. Didn’t exactly have time to perfect the technique.”
“It’s forbidden magic,” he says quietly. “Sacred. Only used between fully bonded mates in dire circumstances. The risks?—”
“Were acceptable,” I finish for him. “You were dying.”
His expression softens into something I’ve never seen before—a vulnerability that makes my heart ache. “You could have died.”
“Scientific curiosity,” I murmur. “Had to know if it would work.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh, might be a sob. “Elena Ashford, you are the most infuriating, brilliant, reckless?—”
A distant sound interrupts him—the beating of wings. Many wings.
Kael stiffens, his arm tightening protectively around me. “Storm Eagle patrol,” he whispers. “Viktor’s scouts are coming to confirm my death.”
Panic surges through me, providing temporary strength. I struggle to sit up. “We need to hide.”
“No time.” He scans the canyon walls. “They’ll track my scent. And yours.”
Another sound joins the first—the mechanical whir of Haven’s Heart drones. My throat tightens. “They’re looking for me too.”
The terrible reality of our situation sinks in. Storm Eagles from above. Haven’s Heart forces from below. Both hunting us,both considering us traitors. And we’re too weak to run, too depleted to fight.
Kael manages to pull himself upright, dragging me with him. His legs shake with the effort of standing, but determination hardens his features. “We need to move. Find cover.”
I retrieve the regenerator and my pack, forcing my leaden limbs to cooperate. “The stream. If we follow it, the water might mask our scents.”
He nods, and together we stagger toward the small creek cutting through the canyon floor. Each step is agony, our bodies still recovering from the life force exchange. But the alternative—capture by either force—would mean certain death for at least one of us.
We’ve barely reached the water when the beating of wings grows louder. Five Storm Eagles appear at the canyon’s rim, circling slowly. At the same time, the buzz of drones intensifies from the eastern end of the canyon.
