Page 14 of Where Lightning Strikes Twice (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #2)

“We should finish before the rain starts,” she says, returning to her equipment.

But I find myself unwilling to resume our scientific exchange. Something more pressing demands expression.

“I can’t stay away from you,” I admit, the words escaping before I can reconsider them. “I’ve tried. I’ve told myself these meetings are necessary for strategic reasons, for gathering information that will help my clan. But the truth is, I come because I have to see you.”

Her hands still over her equipment, but she doesn’t look up. “I know,” she says softly. “I feel it too.”

“This is impossible,” I continue, frustration bleeding into my voice. “You know what I am, what I’ve done. Your people consider me their enemy. Mine would exile me for what I’m feeling.”

“And yet here we are.” She finally meets my gaze, her brown eyes reflecting the storm building both outside and between us. “Despite everything that says we shouldn’t be.”

I move closer, drawn by the pull that grows stronger every time we meet. “What are we doing, Elena?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “All my life, I’ve analyzed, calculated, and made decisions based on data and reason. But this…” She gestures between us. “This defies rational explanation.”

“It’s the mate bond.”

“It’s more than that,” she counters. “The bond may have created the initial connection, but everything since has been choice. I choose to meet you. I choose to help Zara. I choose to risk my career, my standing, possibly my life to understand what’s happening between us.”

Her honesty humbles me. Despite everything she stands to lose, she faces our situation with clear-eyed courage.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” I tell her.

A small smile touches her lips. “Technically, you’ve never met anyone like you, either. That’s rather the point of a fated mate.”

The scientific precision of her humor catches me off guard, and I laugh—a rare, genuine sound that surprises us both. Elena’s smile widens in response, her reserved facade momentarily dropping to reveal the woman beneath.

In that moment, something shifts between us. The careful distance we’ve maintained through weeks of meetings suddenly seems absurd, unnecessary. I reach out, slowly enough that she could move away if she wished, and touch her cheek with my fingertips.

Her skin warms under my touch, and the silver-blue glow returns to her hands, responding to the lightning that sparks unconsciously between my fingers. Neither of us pulls away.

“This is dangerous,” she whispers, but she leans into my touch.

“Everything about us is dangerous,” I reply. “Has been from the beginning.”

The air between us is charged with unspoken tension, with weeks of restraint reaching breaking point. I lean forward, giving her every opportunity to retreat, to maintain the boundaries we’ve established. Instead, she meets me halfway.

Our lips touch, and the world transforms. Lightning races through my veins, not just metaphorically but physically— visible currents of blue-white energy spiraling around us both.

Elena gasps against my mouth as her own power flares in response, her hands glowing bright enough to illuminate the entire clearing.

The kiss deepens, months of suppressed longing breaking through carefully constructed walls.

Her hands slide into my hair, mine circle her waist, pulling her closer.

The mate bond between us pulses with newfound strength, flooding my senses with her presence—her scent, her warmth, the rapid beating of her heart.

Elena pulls back slightly, her breath coming quick and uneven. “Your eyes,” she murmurs. “They’re glowing.”

“So are yours,” I tell her, watching golden flecks materialize in her brown irises—a physical manifestation of our strengthening bond.

She touches my face with glowing fingers, tracing the lines of my jaw with scientific curiosity and undisguised wonder.

“The energy transfer is bidirectional,” she observes, somehow managing to sound clinical despite her flushed cheeks and quickened breath.

“My storm-touch responding to your innate magic, creating a feedback loop.”

Even now, she analyzes, categorizes, and seeks understanding. It shouldn’t be endearing, but somehow it is—this essential core of who she is, unchanged even in extraordinary circumstances.

I kiss her again, harder this time, feeling her scientific detachment dissolve into something more primal.

Her body presses against mine, her hands sliding beneath my tunic to trace the muscles of my back.

Each touch leaves trails of silver-blue light on my skin, an intoxicating sensation unlike anything I’ve experienced.

My own control frays as the mate bond urges us toward completion.

I lower her carefully to the forest floor, my lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, tracing the curve of her neck.

She arches beneath me, her breath catching as my hands explore the unfamiliar terrain of her body, learning what makes her gasp, what draws soft sounds from her throat.

Our clothing becomes an unwelcome barrier.

Elena tugs at my tunic, and I pull it over my head, then help her remove her own.

The cool night air against heated skin sends a shiver through us both.

Her hands trace the scars that map my history across my chest and arms—battle wounds, ritual marks, the physical legacy of a life lived in service to my clan.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, scientific objectivity temporarily abandoned in favor of simple truth.

I want to tell her she’s beautiful too, but the words catch in my throat.

Instead, I show her, my hands and lips conveying what my voice cannot.

The storm builds around us, real and magical intertwining—distant thunder echoing the pounding of our hearts, lightning illuminating skin bared to night air.

Her hands glow brighter as they move across my body, leaving trails of healing warmth wherever they touch. My own storm magic responds, harmless lightning dancing across her skin, drawing gasps of pleasure.

My lips leave a trail of fire down her throat, across the swell of her breasts.

I take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue until she cries out.

Her back arches, pressing herself into me, and the taste of her sends a surge of power through me.

My hand drifts between her thighs, fingers brushing the slick heat there.

She gasps, hips lifting to meet my touch.

When I slide a finger inside her, she tightens around me, a soft moan escaping her lips.

I explore her slowly, feeling the way her body responds to every circle and thrust.

Unable to resist, I shift lower, the scent of her arousal intoxicating.

I kiss my way down her stomach and between her legs, tasting the sweetest magic I’ve ever encountered.

My tongue moves against her in deliberate strokes, eliciting breathless pleas that only spur me on.

Her hands tangle in my hair, and she trembles under the onslaught of pleasure.

When her climax hits, she shudders, light flaring from her hands as she cries out my name, and I savor every pulse of her release.

The sight of her undone drives me nearly mad with need.

I settle between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance.

We lock eyes, both of us understanding this is not just an act of desire but of union.

Slowly, I push into her, feeling her warmth envelop me inch by agonizing inch.

Our magic entwines as intimately as our bodies, lightning dancing across our skin, healing energy flowing between us.

I rock my hips, each thrust deeper than the last, drawing sounds from her I will never forget.

We move together in a rhythm as old as the storm itself, the mate bond urging us to surrender completely.

We are learning each other in this most primal way, discovering how our bodies fit together, how our powers complement and enhance. The mate bond thrums between us, urging completion, connection, consummation.

Then, in the moment of deepest intimacy, when the boundaries between us seem thinnest, something changes. A sharp crack of thunder directly overhead breaks the spell. Simultaneously, a warning cry echoes through the forest—the distinctive call of a Storm Eagle scout on patrol.

We freeze, the danger of our situation crashing back with brutal clarity. I recognize the call pattern—Viktor’s elite guard, conducting an expanded patrol route that shouldn’t include this area. He must have changed the rotation without informing me.

“We need to go,” I whisper, already reaching for my discarded clothing. “That’s a patrol. If they find us?—”

“I understand.” Elena moves with impressive speed, dressing and carefully gathering her equipment.

The scientific instruments disappear into her pack, and the lantern is extinguished.

Within moments, the clearing shows no evidence of our presence except for the slightly flattened grass where we lay.

“How close are they?” she asks, her voice steady despite the situation.

I listen, extending my senses in the way only Storm Eagles can. “Three scouts, moving in a search pattern rather than a standard patrol route. Still half a mile off, but approaching.” The implications chill me. “They’re looking for something specific.”

“For you,” Elena concludes. “They’ve noticed your absences.”

I nod grimly. “Take the eastern path back to the settlement. Stay low, near water when possible to mask your scent.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll lead them away, then circle back to the aerie.” I take her face in my hands, pressing a quick, hard kiss to her lips. “Next meeting, same time, the backup location we discussed.”

She nods, her expression a mixture of regret and resolve. “Be careful, Kael.”

“You too.” I step back, preparing to shift. “Go. Now.”

Elena disappears into the forest with remarkable stealth for a laboratory scientist. I wait until I can no longer sense her presence, then shift into eagle form, launching myself toward the approaching patrol.

I intercept them high above the forest, making sure they see me clearly.

As expected, they change course immediately, following their Stormwright as duty demands.

I lead them on a lengthy chase far from Elena’s path, executing complex aerial maneuvers that would challenge even Viktor’s best warriors.

Only when I’m certain Elena has reached safety do I permit the patrol to approach close enough for communication. I shift momentarily to human form on a high cliff edge, maintaining enough eagle aspects to speak while ready for immediate flight.

“Report,” I command the patrol leader, who hovers respectfully at a distance.

“Stormwright,” he acknowledges with a bow of his head. “We detected unusual energy signatures in this sector. Viktor ordered expanded patrols of all border regions.”

So Viktor has noticed the unique energy pattern created when Elena’s power and mine interact. Clever and concerning.

“I was conducting personal reconnaissance,” I inform him, my tone permitting no questions. “Return to standard patrol routes.”

The scout hesitates, conflicting loyalties evident in his expression. “Stormwarden Viktor requested immediate notification if we located you, Stormwright.”

My authority is being openly questioned. The situation at the aerie must have deteriorated significantly during my absence.

“Then notify him you found me conducting clan business, as is my right and responsibility as Stormwright.” I inject every ounce of authority into my voice. “Unless Viktor now presumes to dictate where I may fly in our own territory?”

The scout bows his head, properly chastised. “Of course not, Stormwright. We’ll resume standard patrol.”

I watch them depart, maintaining my imperious posture until they’re specks in the distance. Only then do I allow my concern to show. Viktor is moving more aggressively than anticipated, setting scouts to track my movements, potentially undermining my authority with the clan.

And the mate bond with Elena, incomplete but strengthening with each meeting, complicates everything. What began as a strategic information exchange has evolved into something that threatens both our positions, possibly our lives.

Yet as I launch myself back toward the aerie, I find I cannot regret it. The taste of her lips, the glow of her hands against my skin, the way our powers intertwined—these memories burn brighter than any warning my rational mind can offer.

I am Stormwright, leader of the Storm Eagles, prophesied ruler of the skies. And I am falling in love with the enemy, with a ground-dwelling scientist who challenges everything I’ve been taught to believe.

The storm that has been building all night finally breaks, rain lashing against my wings as I soar through darkness. I welcome it, letting the natural forces that have always been my birthright wash over me. But now, for the first time in my life, the storm alone doesn’t feel like enough.