Race’s hand traced slow circles on her stomach.
She leaned into him for a moment before straightening. “We’ll need to move sooner.”
He didn’t need the details, not when she carried both the skill of her climatology training and the gift of her bloodline. If she said the storm would be theirs, he believed her.
They returned to find everyone bent over the maps. “So, she knows a little about the weather,” Rhaedra was saying to the others as they entered. “This isn’t the human world?—”
Everyone looked up at their arrival.
Race frowned, but Ash showed no sign she’d heard. She pushed her hood back, bits of her hair escaping its little ponytail, then crossed to the wall, where her rough sketch sprawled. “Two days,” she said, tapping a ridge in her drawing, her cheeks still wind-flushed. “The front’s accelerating. The window will be shorter, but the cover will be better.”
“That’s not much time,” Attor murmured, tapping a finger over his mouth.
“No, it isn’t,” Race agreed. “But we’ll work with it. Ash?”
She traced the mountain’s contours with a fingertip. “Two nights from now, the fronts will collide. Wind and cloud cover will mask movement and sound. The storm will create a blind spot. Dragons rely on thermal lifts for flight, yes?” The shifters’ team murmured assent. She had their attention. “Then this low-pressure cell will disrupt their flight patterns.”
“Impossible to predict the weather so precisely,” Rhaedra scoffed, folding her arms under her breasts, her chin tipped in challenge.
“Not for a Storm Summoner.” Ash’s voice carried calm certainty. “We’ll have roughly a six-hour window while the storm passes and the eye holds. Once your teams are in place, I’ll keep the eye steady.”
Race’s chest tightened with pride…and more.
“These wind patterns match what our scouts reported,” Attor’s gravelly voice broke the silence. “Guards losing altitude in crosswinds.”
She gave the older shifter a little smile. “While the storm rages, the blind spot works for us. We’ll reach the children before anyone realizes what’s happening. The thunder and windwill mask the explosions. But everyone must be in position before the eye opens.”
“Good.” Varkyn folded his huge arms over his barreled chest. “We breach the eastern flank, drop the whole ridge. Simple.”
“Simple gets children killed,” Ash countered before Race could. “We take the keystones out, let the mountain vent. Controlled chaos.”
Attor frowned. “You’re certain?”
She nodded, touching themorvaenstone at her throat. “I’ve okayed avalanches for rescue drills in the Alps. I know the risk. But this will hold.”
“Then controlled chaos it is,” Race said.
Rhaedra slowly straightened, her previous disdain giving way to tactical assessment as she approached Ash’s crude map. “Let me show you where our forces will be positioned. If we time this right…” She tapped the weather marks. “We might just pull this off.”
“We will.” Ash lifted her chin with that familiar, maddening determination he knew so well.
And for a moment, Race could only look at her—the human who stood among dragons, unbowed. His equal. His mate, who’d even gotten through to a hardheaded she-dragon.
Still, a knot of unease twisted low in his gut.
Controlled chaos had a way of turning into the real thing. He only hoped they didn’t get caught in the fallout.
Chapter
Thirty-One
The cavefinally emptied of the massive shifters, and Ash groaned as the tension slid off her shoulders.
She turned to Race with a breathless laugh, running both hands through her hair. Her tie slipped loose and fell to the stone floor. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d get through to her.”
A smile ghosted over his lips. “You did well. Now, we have two days to work on your powers and your weapons.”
She picked up her tie, stuffed it in her jeans pocket, then tilted her head at him, raising one eyebrow. “Gosh, thanks for the effusive praise. Really, stop, please, before I swoon.”
