Page 25 of Where Lightning Strikes Twice (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #2)

“Wait,” she says, her voice commanding. “You don’t need to die for Viktor’s ambition.”

The guards hesitate, uncertainty crossing their faces. Elena’s tribunal testimony has affected them too.

“The Stormwright escaped,” one says, though his weapon lowers slightly. “Our orders are to secure all prisoners.”

“And will you secure them for a leader who plans to dilute Storm Eagle blood with Dire Wolf alliances?” I challenge. “Viktor speaks of purity while plotting to mix our clan with ground predators for political gain.”

Doubt flickers in their eyes. I press the advantage. “I don’t ask you to fight your brothers. Simply step aside.”

A tense moment passes before the senior guard makes a decision, stepping away from the center of the corridor. His partner follows suit, creating a path for us.

“We saw nothing,” he says quietly.

We hurry past, but more shouts echo from multiple directions. The aerie is mobilizing. We won’t make it to the eastern platforms without confrontation.

“This way,” I pull Elena down a narrow side passage that few remember exists. The ancient tunnel, carved by the original Storm Eagle settlers, bypasses the main corridors. “This leads to the ceremonial platform—it’s closer than the eastern gathering point.”

“The execution platform?” Elena asks, surprised.

“Yes. Viktor will have prepared it for dawn. But it’s also the highest point in the aerie, where storm magic flows most freely.” I grip her hand tighter. “If we’re going to make a stand, that’s where our powers will be strongest.”

We emerge onto the massive circular platform jutting from the mountain face.

The pre-dawn sky swirls with unnatural storm clouds—dark, lightning-laced formations that circle directly above us.

The platform stands empty, ceremonial torches unlit, the execution block a dark shadow against the eastern horizon.

Elena stares at the gathering storm. “You’re doing this?”

“Not intentionally.” I glance at our still-joined hands. “I think we both are.”

The first rays of dawn light touch the distant peaks just as Viktor’s voice rings out behind us.

“How appropriate that you bring yourself to your execution site, ground-dweller.” He strides onto the platform, flanked by a dozen warriors.

His silver-streaked hair lifts in the rising wind, and his steel-gray eyes gleam with triumph.

“And Kael, so predictable in your sentimentality. Two traitors for one execution.”

I position myself between him and Elena. “The only traitor here is the man who would ally with Dire Wolves against his own kind.”

Viktor’s expression flickers, but he recovers quickly.

“Necessary alliances to ensure our survival. Something you never understood, with your merciful raids and minimal casualties.” He addresses the growing crowd of Storm Eagles gathering around the platform edges.

“See how the contamination spreads! Even now he protects the ground-dweller above his own people!”

“I protect truth,” I counter, my voice carrying across the platform. “Elena has proven what some of us have suspected for generations—our isolation weakens rather than strengthens us.”

The storm clouds above churn more violently, lightning arcing between them in complex patterns. Several Eagles point upward, murmuring in concern. Storm Eagles can influence weather, but none have ever created a tempest of this magnitude without deliberate effort.

Elena steps forward, her hands beginning to glow. “Your people are dying, Viktor. Not from external threats, but from within. Each generation is born weaker than the last—fewer are able to shift completely, fewer yet are able to call lightning.”

“Lies!” Viktor snarls, but uncertain glances pass between his warriors.

“Not lies,” calls a voice from the crowd. Zara steps forward, leading a group of younger Eagles. “My own cousin’s children cannot manifest wings before their fifth year—unheard of in our history.”

Commander Gale joins her. “Three hatchlings this season with malformed pinions. Seven more who cannot call even the smallest spark.”

The crowd murmurs, division spreading like ripples in still water. Viktor senses his control slipping.

“Enough!” Lightning erupts from his fingertips, striking the platform between us. “I am Stormwarden! My word is law!”

But his display of power seems diminished compared to the massive storm building above us—a storm responding to the energy flowing between Elena and me.

I take Elena’s hand again, feeling our combined power surge through me. “A true leader protects his people’s future, not their past, Viktor. You cling to traditions that are killing us, while fearing the very salvation that stands before you.”

Lightning pulses between our joined hands, neither silver-blue nor golden now, but a perfect merging of both—a new magic born from unity rather than division. The crowd falls silent, watching in awe as the energy spirals upward to join the storm.

“This is what the prophecies truly meant,” Elena calls out, her voice strong despite her exhaustion. “Not dominion of sky over earth, but unity between them. Balance. Harmony. The Storm Eagles were never meant to rule alone—they were meant to bridge the divide between territories.”

The dawn light spreads across the platform as the storm above intensifies. The contrast creates an otherworldly glow around us—silver-blue healing light merged with golden storm energy, illuminating the ancient stone in patterns not seen for generations.

Several elders gasp, pointing to the glowing patterns. “The ancient signs,” Elder Talon whispers, loud enough for all to hear. “Just as the original texts described—storm and silver, reunited.”

Viktor sees his support crumbling. With a howl of rage, he launches himself at us, storm magic crackling around his body. “I will not lose to contamination!”

I push Elena behind me, summoning my own storm power to meet his attack. Our energies collide in a thunderous explosion that shakes the mountain itself. The force drives us apart, and Viktor recovers first, sending a barrage of lightning toward us.

Elena steps forward, her hands raised. The lightning that should have incinerated us both splits around an invisible barrier—her healing energy transmuted into protection. The crowd gasps at this unprecedented display of power.

“Impossible,” Viktor breathes.

“No,” Elena counters. “This is evolution”

I join her, our powers flowing together once more. The storm above responds, funneling down to surround us in a column of wind and lightning. I’ve never felt such power—controlled yet boundless, fierce yet healing.

Viktor backs away, genuine fear crossing his face for the first time. “What are you becoming?”

“What we were always meant to be,” I answer, the truth of it resonating through my entire being. “Not eagle alone, not human alone, but something greater than both.”

The loyalists Zara gathered begin to move, surrounding Viktor’s supporters. Not attacking, simply creating a boundary that makes clear the shifting of power. Even some who came with Viktor step away, recognizing the turning tide.

Viktor, isolated now, looks around wildly. “You would follow them? These… abominations?”

“We would follow hope,” Commander Gale says simply. “Over extinction.”

Viktor makes his final desperate move, lunging toward us with a blade drawn from his belt. But before he can reach us, a horn blast echoes through the chamber—Viktor’s reinforcements have arrived.

“ This isn’t over,” he snarls, backing toward the entrance as his elite guard floods the chamber. “The council remains divided. You’ve proven nothing except your contamination.”

We’re forced to step back as Viktor’s loyalists surround him protectively. Though we’ve shaken the council’s faith in his leadership, he maintains enough support to remain dangerous.

“To the sanctuary,” I tell Elena. “We need to regroup.”

The storm begins to dissipate, its purpose fulfilled. Dawn light floods fully across the platform now, illuminating the gathered Eagles and the two of us at the center—still connected, still glowing with combined power.

Before we leave, I address the clan, my voice carrying to all corners of the aerie. “For generations, we’ve misunderstood our purpose. We believed ourselves superior, destined to rule. But our true destiny was to bridge, to unite, to combine strengths rather than impose our will.”

Elena continues seamlessly, as though we speak with one voice. “The genetic evidence doesn’t lie. Isolation leads to weakness. Diversity creates strength. Your ancestors understood this—it’s written in your oldest texts, painted on your most ancient walls.”

The crowd listens, centuries of tradition battling against undeniable evidence. I can see the struggle in their faces, the fear of change warring with the greater fear of extinction.

Zara steps forward. “My brother never sought to destroy our traditions, but to save our future.” She looks at Elena with newfound respect. “And she risked everything to bring us truth, not conquest.”

Elder Talon thumps his staff against the stone platform. “The council must deliberate on these revelations and determine the path forward.” He glances at Viktor’s retreating form. “And decide what justice requires for those who would divide us.”

The crowd begins to disperse, moving in small groups deep in discussion. The sudden absence of immediate danger leaves me light-headed, and I feel Elena sway beside me. The power we channeled has taken its toll on both of us.

“We should go,” she murmurs. “Give them space to process everything.”

I nod, wrapping my arm around her waist to support her. “There’s a place we can rest—an ancient sanctuary built by the first Storm Eagles. We’ll be safe there while the council deliberates.”

“And if they decide against us?” she asks as we move toward the edge of the platform.

I look back at the gathered Eagles, seeing the shifted dynamic—the younger members speaking animatedly, the elders listening with newfound attention. “Then we’ll face that together too.”

We reach the platform edge. Beyond stretches the vast wilderness—mountains, forests, valleys, all bathed in morning light. Not separate territories anymore, but a connected landscape waiting to be understood anew.

I shift partially, manifesting my wings while maintaining human form—another ability enhanced by our bond. Elena wraps her arms around my neck, trusting me completely. With one powerful leap, we launch into open air, leaving the aerie and its politics behind.

For now, we’ve won a reprieve, perhaps even begun a revolution. The harder work of building a new future awaits us. But as we soar toward the ancient sanctuary, Elena held safely against my chest, I allow myself to feel something I haven’t experienced in thirteen years of leadership.

Hope.