Page 33 of Where Lightning Strikes Twice (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #2)

KAEL

I stand facing Viktor across the ancient ritual chamber, our bodies illuminated by the sick glow of his corrupted blade.

Elena is beside me, her healing magic pulsing in counterpoint to the storm energy crackling at my fingertips.

The temple floor beneath us thrums with awakened power, ancient symbols glowing with increasing intensity as Viktor’s sacrificial ritual nears completion.

“It’s over, Viktor,” I say, positioning myself protectively in front of Elena. “Surrender the blade.”

Viktor laughs, the sound hollow and strained. The silver streaks in his hair have multiplied since he began channeling the stolen life force, making him look decades older than his thirty-five years. The ritual blade pulses in his hand, hungry for more victims.

“Surrender? When I’m but a moment from claiming my birthright?” His gaze shifts to Elena, predatory and calculating. “Your ground-dwelling mate can’t save you, Kael. Her presence here only confirms your corruption.”

Behind him, dozens of the remaining prisoners—Storm Eagles, Haven’s Heart citizens, wild clan members—strain against magical bonds that connect them to the ritual circle.

I can feel their fear and pain through the temple’s ancient magic, their life force slowly being drained to fuel Viktor’s ascension.

“The prophecies were never about domination,” Elena says, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. “They spoke of unity between sky and earth magic, not conquest.”

“Pretty lies from a pretty scientist.” Viktor raises the blade, its corrupted energy making the air shimmer. “The Storm Eagles were meant to rule. I will restore our rightful place.”

Outside the temple, battle rages across the mountainside—my coalition of Storm Eagles, Haven’s Heart forces, and wild clan warriors fighting against Viktor’s loyalists and their Dire Wolf allies.

Through the shattered ceiling, lightning flashes across the storm-darkened sky, responding to the conflicting magic within the temple.

Elena’s hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. The moment we touch, our energies begin to merge—her silver-blue healing magic twining with my golden storm power. Through our incomplete mate bond, I feel her determination, her brilliant mind already calculating possibilities.

“The ritual blade is unstable,” she whispers, just loud enough for me to hear. “His spell is nearly complete, but he can’t control the amount of energy he’s collecting.”

I nod slightly, understanding flowing between us without words. “The counter-ritual?”

“It’s our only chance.” Her eyes meet mine, brown depths glowing with silver light. “But Kael… it will complete our mate bond. Permanently.”

The gravity of her words sinks in. We’ve discussed this possibility in the ruins, studied the ancient texts describing the original mating ritual between storm-touched partners. A joining of souls as much as bodies, creating a permanent magical bond that would forever link our lives and powers.

“I know,” I reply, squeezing her hand. The idea of being bound to Elena forever doesn’t frighten me—it feels like destiny finally acknowledged.

Viktor watches our exchange with growing suspicion. “Whatever you’re planning won’t work.” He gestures with the blade, sending a pulse of dark energy across the chamber floor. “The sacrificial circle is complete. The power is mine to command.”

“Now,” Elena whispers.

We move in perfect synchrony, stepping into the center of an older, deeper ritual circle carved into the temple floor beneath Viktor’s crude markings.

Ancient symbols light up beneath our feet—patterns of storm clouds and healing hands intertwined, created centuries before Viktor’s twisted interpretation of Storm Eagle destiny.

“What are you doing?” Viktor demands, his confidence faltering as the original temple magic responds to our presence.

Elena’s scientific precision guides us as we position ourselves at opposite points of the ancient circle.

Our hands remain joined across the center, completing the circuit of power.

The prisoners watch with desperate hope as we begin the counter-ritual, our voices joining in the ancient language of the temple builders.

“From sky to earth, from storm to healing,” I begin, the words rising from memory I didn’t know I possessed.

“From separation to unity, from conflict to harmony,” Elena continues, her pronunciation perfect despite never having spoken the ancient tongue before.

Viktor lunges forward with a snarl, but the ritual circle flares with protective energy, halting him at its edge. “Stop this!” he shouts, slashing at the barrier with the corrupted blade.

We continue uninterrupted, the ancient words flowing between us as if we’ve rehearsed them for years.

With each phrase, the circle glows brighter, and I feel the connection between us strengthening.

The incomplete mate bond that has tantalized us for weeks pulses with new energy, reaching for completion.

“The ritual can’t be stopped,” Viktor says, desperation creeping into his voice. He turns back to his sacrificial circle, raising the blade high. “I’ll finish this now. All life force to me!”

The prisoners cry out as Viktor accelerates the ritual, their vitality visibly flowing toward the blade. The corrupted weapon grows brighter, crackling with stolen power.

Elena’s grip on my hands tightens. “We need to complete the bond now, or we’ll lose them all.”

Our eyes lock, and in that moment, all doubts vanish.

From the first moment I saw her—that brilliant, compassionate healer looking up at the sky with scientific curiosity rather than fear—something in me recognized her as mine.

Every moment since has only confirmed what my eagle instincts knew immediately.

“I choose you,” I tell her, the ritual words merging with the truth in my heart. “Storm to healing, sky to earth.”

“I choose you,” she answers, her voice strong and clear. “Healing to storm, earth to sky.”

The circle flares to life around us, symbols burning gold and silver-blue as if the stones themselves remember. The air thrums with ancient power, demanding not words but action. Surrender.

I pull Elena to me. She fits against me as if carved for this moment, her warmth sliding into the spaces I’ve carried empty for years. Our mouths crash together, hungry and desperate, the kiss tasting of lightning and breathless need. The bond hums through us, alive, ravenous.

Around us, Viktor screams, prisoners cry out—but then the circle’s magic shifts. Light erupts upward, rising in a column that seals us in. To the outside world, it is blinding radiance, opaque and humming, concealing us completely. Even sound is swallowed; beyond the barrier, they hear nothing.

Inside, it is only us.

Clothes dissolve into light. Skin to skin, she glows with silver fire while golden arcs crawl harmlessly across mine.

She gasps when my hand cups her breast, when my thumb brushes over the hardened peak.

I answer with a growl and take her nipple into my mouth, sucking until she cries out, hips arching against me.

Her legs lock around my waist, dragging me closer. The slick heat of her core presses against me, and my control shreds. I press the head of my cock to her entrance, sliding against her folds until she’s gasping, begging with nails in my shoulders.

Then I push in.

She moans, body stretching to take me, gripping me tight. Inch by inch until I’m buried fully inside her. The circle responds instantly—light blazing, symbols flaring brighter—as if it too shudders with our joining.

I draw back, thrust deep, and the sound she makes tears through me. Each stroke sends ripples of power through the chamber, but inside this cocoon of stormlight, it’s only ours to feel, ours to savor. Her hips lift to meet me, greedy, insistent, urging me harder, faster.

I pin her wrists above her head, pressing them into the glowing stone. Our joined hands spark, bolts of energy running down our arms with every thrust. She writhes beneath me, moaning, crying out my name, body clenching around me until I’m nearly undone.

I angle deeper, and she shatters—screaming my name, body locking around me as silver-blue light bursts outward. The flare slams through the bond, pulling me with her. I drive harder, pounding until I spill inside her with a roar, lightning cracking across the barrier in response.

We don’t stop. The bond won’t allow it. We keep moving, keep taking each other higher, orgasms stacking, tearing through us in waves until I lose count. With every climax, the magic swells, weaving us tighter, sealing what began weeks ago with absolute finality.

When at last the storm eases, I collapse against her, still inside her, both of us glowing faintly in the aftermath. The barrier hums softer, then recedes, leaving us clothed again, though damp with sweat and trembling.

Outside, the prisoners stare in wide-eyed hope, Viktor still raging at the edge of the circle, but none of them saw. None of them heard. What happened in that sacred space belongs only to us.

Her fingers stroke my cheek, tender despite her trembling. “I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you,” I answer, pressing my lips to her temple. And this time, it isn’t just words—it’s vow, covenant, destiny.

Beyond our private universe, Viktor screams in fury. The corrupted magic he’s gathered conflicts with the ancient temple’s original purpose, creating dangerous instability.

“What’s happening?” he demands. “What have you done?”

Elena and I rise together, our bodies still glowing with mate-bond energy. Though physically separate again, I can feel her presence in my mind, her thoughts intertwining with mine. We stand hand in hand, facing Viktor with the full power of our completed bond.

“The temple was built for unity, not domination,” I explain, my voice echoing with storm magic. “Your ritual contradicts its fundamental purpose.”