“Viktor would rather see us extinct than evolved,” I counter. “The question is: would you?”
The chamber falls silent as my words sink in. Finally, Tavis steps forward.
“I’ve followed you for thirteen years, Stormwright. Your leadership brought us through famines, territorial wars, and resource shortages. If you believe this alliance is our path forward, I stand with you.”
Others nod in agreement, though uncertainty lingers in their expressions. I understand their hesitation. I shared it once. Before Elena showed me another way.
“Prepare for departure,” I order. “Zara will coordinate our allies while I make contact with Haven’s Heart.”
As the others disperse to their tasks, I walk to the balcony overlooking the valley below. Storm clouds gather on the horizon, responding to my turbulent emotions. Since my defeat by Viktor and Elena’s healing, my connection to storm magic has deepened, becoming more precise, more controlled. The incomplete mate bond has changed me in ways I’m still discovering.
Zara joins me, leaning against the ancient stone railing. “You’re going alone to Haven’s Heart, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll shoot you on sight.”
“Possibly.” I manage a grim smile. “But I have something they want.”
“Your head on a pike?” Her attempt at humor doesn’t mask her worry.
“Information about Viktor’s plans. And proof of what Elena discovered here.” I pull a small vial from my belt pouch—Elena’s blood mixed with mine, showing the genetic compatibility that our traditions claimed was impossible. “Scientific evidence they can’t ignore.”
Zara sighs. “I should come with you.”
“No.I need you here, coordinating with the wild clans.” I grasp her shoulder. “You’re the diplomat, sister. Always have been.”
“And you’ve always been the stubborn one.” She embraces me briefly. “Just don’t get yourself killed before the rescue mission.”
I leave at dusk, shifting into eagle form and launching from the highest point of the ruins. The storm energy surrounding Black Ridge is visible even from this distance—an unnatural darkness gathering above the mountain where Viktor has established his war camp. Whatever ritual he’s preparing, its power already corrupts the natural patterns of weather and magic.
The flight to Haven’s Heart territory takes hours, even at my top speed. I stay high, using cloud cover when possible, avoiding known patrol routes. Elena’s tactical analysis of Haven’s Heart security has proved invaluable, though I doubt she ever imagined I’d use it this way.
The northern military outpost appears below me just before midnight—a collection of reinforced buildings surrounded by defensive perimeters and guard towers. Light rain begins to fall as I circle once, identifying the command center where Marcus Ashford likely makes his headquarters.
I land in a small clearing just outside their sensor range, shifting back to human form. The transformation comes easier now, and the lightning that accompanies it is more controlled. Another gift from Elena’s healing and our strengthening bond. Even separated, I can feel her presence like a distant heartbeat.
Approaching the outpost requires both stealth and audacity. I choose the latter, walking openly toward the main gate, hands visible at my sides. Alarm klaxons sound almost immediately.
“HALT!” Floodlights blind me as guards raise weapons from multiple positions. “IDENTIFY YOURSELF!”
“My name is Kael Stormwright,” I call out, keeping my hands raised. “I need to speak with Commander Ashford regarding his sister.”
The response is predictable—more weapons, shouted orders, and within minutes, I’m surrounded by Haven’s Heart soldiers in full tactical gear. They bind my hands with specialized restraints designed to suppress shifter abilities. Little do they know such measures no longer work on me, not since Elena’s magic awakened something new in my bloodline.
They march me through the compound at gunpoint, suspicion and hatred evident in every face. To them, I’m the enemy who’s terrorized their settlements for years. The monster from the sky. I can’t blame them for their fear.
The command center is a utilitarian structure of steel and concrete—so different from the organic, flowing architecture of the Storm Eagle aerie. Inside, they push me into an interrogation room and secure my restraints to a metal table bolted to the floor.
I wait calmly, conserving my energy. Fighting now would only confirm their worst expectations. Besides, I didn’t come to fight.
The door opens, and Marcus Ashford enters. He’s taller than Elena but shares her determined jaw and intelligent eyes. Unlikehis sister, however, his expression contains no curiosity—only cold fury.
“Stormwright.” He remains standing, arms crossed. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t execute you where you sit.”
“Elena has been captured by Viktor,” I reply simply. “He plans to sacrifice her in three days to fuel a magical ritual that will destabilize all territories.”
Marcus’s expression doesn’t change, but a muscle twitches in his jaw. “And I should believe you because…?”
