Through the window, I watch dark clouds gathering around the mountain peaks. Electricity charges the air, making my skin tingle and my newly awakened powers stir. Dawn will bring either our deaths or a new beginning for the Storm Eagles.
Either way, the storm is coming.
14
KAEL
Lightning surges through my veins as I focus on the ropes binding my wrists. I’ve been working on them for hours, channeling minute currents of storm energy into the fibers. Not enough to create visible light that would alert the guards, but enough to gradually weaken the enchanted hemp. The cell they’ve placed me in is designed to dampen magic, but something has changed since Elena’s healing in the canyon. My powers respond differently now—more focused, more controlled.
And far more difficult to contain.
I close my eyes, picturing Elena standing before the tribunal. Her courage as she faced Viktor’s accusations stirred something primal in me. The mate bond, incomplete as it is, has grown stronger through our separation. I can feel her presence in the aerie like a beacon of silver-blue light amidst the darkness of Viktor’s hatred.
Outside my cell, thunder rumbles across the mountain peaks. The storm building around the aerie isn’t natural—it’s responding to my emotions, to our combined energies. I’venever experienced weather patterns reacting this way before, not even during my most intense battles.
Another strand of the binding snaps beneath my concentrated power. Almost there.
“Brother.” The whispered word comes from the narrow window slit near the ceiling of my cell.
I glance up to see Zara’s face, half-hidden in shadow. She shouldn’t be here—Viktor’s guards patrol these corridors regularly, and anyone caught helping me faces the same death sentence.
“The council is in chaos,” she whispers. “Elena’s words have divided them. The younger members are questioning Viktor, especially after she revealed the genetic weakening.”
“Is she OK?” My voice sounds rough, even to my own ears.
“Yes, but Viktor has scheduled her execution for dawn.” Zara’s eyes, so like our mother’s, fill with concern. “He fears what she knows, what she might reveal to others. He’s rushing the judgment before more Eagles can hear her speak.”
Dawn. Only hours away. “How many stand with him?”
“Perhaps half the council. The traditionalists mostly, but some are wavering. The genetic evidence is… compelling.” She glances nervously over her shoulder. “I’ve gathered those loyal to you near the eastern platforms. They’re prepared to fight if necessary.”
I work the bindings more frantically now. “No civil war, Zara. Not if we can avoid it.”
“You may not have a choice. Viktor has sent messengers to the Dire Wolf alliance. They’ll arrive by midday tomorrow to witness his ‘triumph’ over ground-dweller contamination.” Her voice hardens. “He’s using Elena’s execution as political theater to cement his alliance.”
The last strands of the binding begin to give way. “What of her powers? Has she shown any signs of?—”
“Yes.” Zara’s eyes widen. “When they threatened you during the tribunal, her hands glowed. Everyone saw it. And you…” She hesitates. “Lightning danced across your bindings, though you were rooms away. The elders are disturbed by this connection. Some call it an abomination, but others remember the old stories—about storm and silver, sky and earth joining.”
The final strand breaks. I flex my hands, feeling power surge freely through them now. “Get to the eastern platforms. Keep our allies ready but tell them not to move until they see my signal.”
“And what will that be?”
I smile grimly. “Trust me, sister. You’ll know it when you see it.”
She disappears from the window, and I rise to my feet, assessing my options. The cell door is reinforced with storm-resistant metals, but the lock mechanism itself contains iron components. Iron conducts electricity quite effectively.
I place my palm against the lock, channeling a focused charge through the metal. The current travels precisely where I direct it, a level of control I never possessed before Elena’s healing. The lock mechanism heats, expands, and finally cracks.
The door swings open silently. The corridor beyond is empty—a stroke of luck I hadn’t counted on. Most of the clan must be gathered elsewhere, perhaps still debating Elena’s revelations or preparing for tomorrow’s execution.
I move silently through familiar passages, keeping to the shadows. This aerie has been my home for thirty-two years. I know every hidden path, every secret corridor carved by ancestors who understood the value of discretion. Viktor may have claimed leadership, but he doesn’t know all the Storm Eagle secrets.
Voices echo from around the corner—guards discussing watch rotations. I press myself into a shadowed alcove as they pass.
“—says the ground-dweller actually made sense,” one whispers. “My cousin’s daughter hasn’t developed wings properly. Third one this year.”
“Silence,” the other hisses. “Talk like that will get you executed alongside the prisoners.”
