“Not impossible,” I reply. “Just new.”
Guards finally move to restrain Viktor, emboldened by the clear demonstration of power. He struggles briefly before slumping in defeat, his eyes burning with hatred.
Elder Talon approaches us cautiously, studying the fading glow of our combined magic. “The council must deliberate on these revelations,” he says formally. “Until then, both prisoners will remain under guard—but with proper quarters, not cells.”
It’s not freedom, but it’s progress. I nod acceptance, keeping Elena’s hand firmly in mine.
“And Viktor?” I ask.
“We cannot risk further destabilization of the clan with yet another interim leadership change, but we will investigate his actions in light of today’s events,” Elder Talon assures me. “Particularly this alliance with the Dire Wolves, which threatens our entire clan.”
As guards lead us from the chamber—more respectfully now—I feel Elena’s fingers squeeze mine. Despite everything, a small smile touches her lips.
“Bridge, not conqueror,” she whispers. “I like that interpretation better.”
“So do I,” I reply, realizing how truly I mean it. “So do I.”
13
ELENA
The council has delayed final judgment for three days, granting Viktor continued authority while they deliberate the unprecedented evidence I presented. It’s a political maneuver—some elders still cling to tradition despite the genetic proof of the Storm Eagles’ decline, feeling more comfortable with a leader’s supremacy ambition that would preserve the only way of life they know. They are apparently even willing to excuse his attempt to collapse the aerie before allowing them to mix Storm Eagle heritage with ground-dwellers DNA.
Viktor uses this time window to consolidate his power, and to silence the uncomfortable truth that does not support his political aspirations. Put simply, I have quickly became his number one enemy, so it does not surprise me when I am dragged for my trial at the crack of dawn.
The tribunal platform rises before me, an ancient stone disc jutting from the aerie’s central cavern. Morning light streams through crystal apertures high in the rock, catching on the polished surface and the ceremonial runes etched into its perimeter. Generations of Storm Eagle judgments have beenpassed here—life, death, exile. Today, I am the accused who climbs its steps and stands at its center awaiting my trial.
Viktor circles the platform, his silver-streaked hair gleaming in the fractured light. He’s dressed in full ceremonial leathers—Kael’s rightful attire—and plays to the assembled clan with the confidence of someone who believes victory is already his.
“Behold the ground-dweller who corrupted your Stormwright,” he announces, gesturing toward me with theatrical flair. “The healer who poisoned his mind with lies about our sacred bloodline.”
I hold my head high despite the bruises on my face and the guards flanking me. My scientific training taught me to observe even when afraid, to analyze even when threatened. So I observe and analyze—the crowd’s reactions, the elders’ expressions, the subtle signs of division among the clan.
The younger Storm Eagles watch with curiosity rather than hatred. The warriors who brought me here treated me with rough efficiency but no cruelty. Even some elders seem uncertain, stealing glances at Kael, who stands bound across the chamber, his golden eyes never leaving my face.
“She is a Haven’s Heart scientist,” Viktor continues, pacing like a predator. “Sent to study us, to find our weaknesses, to prepare for our extermination. And yet your former leader welcomed her touch, shared our blood with her, betrayed everything we stand for.”
Elder Talon steps forward, his ancient face impassive. “The accusations are grave, Stormwarden. What evidence supports them?”
Viktor snaps his fingers, and a young warrior brings forward my research tablet. “Her own records. Scientific analysis of Storm Eagle blood freely given by the traitor Kael Stormwright. Notes on our genetic structure, our abilities, our magical heritage.”
He passes the tablet to Elder Talon, who studies it with narrowed eyes. I watch carefully, noting which screens he examines. The tablet contains only what they found in my pack when they captured us—surface analysis, nothing about the deeper discoveries that might actually help the Storm Eagles understand their genetic future.
“Scientist,” Elder Talon addresses me directly. “What say you to these charges?”
The chamber falls silent. This is my moment—my opportunity to either plead for mercy or speak truth. Kael’s eyes meet mine across the space, and I see his almost imperceptible nod. He trusts me to make the right choice.
“I am a geneticist,” I begin, my voice steady despite my fear. “My work focuses on understanding shifter biology, not exploiting it. The research you hold was conducted with freely given samples and full disclosure to Kael Stormwright about its purpose.”
“Which was?” Elder Tempest asks, her severe face skeptical.
“To understand the extraordinary genetic heritage that makes Storm Eagles unique among shifters.” I take a deep breath, calculating my next words carefully. “What I discovered may challenge your traditions, but it might also save your clan from extinction.”
A murmur ripples through the gathered Eagles. Viktor’s face darkens.
“Extinction? Ridiculous!” he scoffs. “Our bloodline is the purest, the strongest?—”
“The purest, yes,” I interrupt, seizing the opening. “But that purity is killing you.”
