“No regrets?” he asks quietly.
“None.” I trace patterns on his chest. “But Magnus... we didn’t complete the formal bonds. The Mountain Cat ceremony.”
“We will. After tomorrow. When we’ve won and saved those people and eliminated the threat.” He tilts my chin up, making me meet his eyes. “Tonight was about us choosing each other. Tomorrow we fight. And the day after, we make it official in front of everyone who matters.”
“You’re very certain we’ll survive tomorrow.”
“I am.” He kisses me softly. “Sleep now. You’ll need your strength.”
I want to protest, want to stay awake and memorize every detail of this moment. But exhaustion and satisfaction combine to pull me under. My last conscious thought is that whatever happens tomorrow, I’ll face it without regrets.
I chose him. He chose me. And that choice changes everything.
16
MAGNUS
Dawn breaks cold and blood-red over the ice peaks, painting the assembled forces in shades of warning. I stand on the launch platform with Lyra beside me, both of us dressed in battle gear—reinforced leather, weapons, medical supplies. Around us, warriors from three clans prepare for the assault.
Keira approaches, her ice-blue eyes assessing us both. “You’re certain you want to be in the first wave? You could coordinate from a safer position.”
“We know the facility layout better than anyone,” Lyra says before I can respond. “And I’m the only healer who’s seen Crane’s work firsthand. I need to be there for the prisoners.”
“Besides,” I add, spreading my wings slightly, “aerial insertion gives us advantages. Fast entry, hard to track, difficult to counter.”
Keira nods acceptance. “Stay alive. Both of you. Your bond is too valuable to the integration to lose now.”
She moves off to brief the ground forces, leaving us alone for a moment. I turn to Lyra, taking in every detail—the determination on her face, the set of her shoulders, and the wayher hands rest calmly on her medical pack despite the danger we’re flying toward.
Last night in the sacred cave feels both impossibly distant and vividly present. I can still feel her skin against mine, hear her cries of pleasure, remember the way our magic merged so perfectly. She’s mine now, in every way that matters, and the thought of anything happening to her makes my leopard snarl with protective rage.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she murmurs, though she’s smiling slightly.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re memorizing me in case you never see me again.”
“I’m memorizing you because you’re beautiful, and I want to remember this moment.” I cup her face briefly. “We’re going to survive this. We’re going to free those prisoners, stop Crane, and then complete our formal bonds with the entire clan watching.”
“You’re very certain.”
“I choose certainty over fear.” I lean down to kiss her—brief but fierce.
The signal comes. Storm Eagle forces launch first, their powerful wings carrying them skyward in coordinated formations. Lyra and I follow, my newer wings requiring more effort but gaining confidence with each beat. The sensation of flight is still extraordinary—wind rushing past, the ground falling away, the freedom of three dimensions.
We fly in formation with a mixed squadron—Storm Eagles providing air superiority while I carry Lyra toward the facility. Other Mountain Cats with their mates follow our lead, having trained specifically for this aerial assault pattern.
The facility appears below us, still disguised as abandoned Haven’s Heart station but now bristling with defenses we can see from the air. Crane has been busy—ice barriers, guard towers, what looks like anti-aircraft emplacements.
“He’s been preparing,” Lyra says through the bond we’ve strengthened. “Expecting retaliation.”
“Then we give him more than he expects.” I signal the squadron, and we shift formation—half diving directly toward the facility while the other half circles for secondary approach.
The defenses activate immediately. Ice bolts streak upward, forcing evasive maneuvers. One Storm Eagle takes a hit, spiraling down but recovering before impact. The ground forces are engaging now too, drawing fire away from the aerial assault.
I spot our target—the ventilation shaft we used before, now sealed but still vulnerable. “There! If we can breach that, we’re inside before he can fully mobilize his Broken.”
Lyra’s hands glow, and she releases a concentrated blast of healing energy transformed into force. The shaft’s seal shatters, and I dive through the opening, wings folding tight to fit the narrow space.
