Chapter 219
Stella's POV
I have brought supplies, troops, and determination. Kai and I have summoned the leaders to discuss the final battle plan.
The war room's air is thick with the scent of whale oil lamps and the hushed murmur of strategy. Maps weigh down the central table, red quartz markers clustering around the fortress like bloodstains. Kai stands beside me, his hand resting on the small of my back, while Freya leans over the map, her scarred knuckles tapping the ice where the Council fleet floats.
"Stella's plan is our best shot." Ataq's voice rumbles from the corner, his one eye fixed on the ships. "The fleet's cannons have slaughtered too many of our warriors. If we can neutralize them—"
"The fortress becomes a sitting duck." Erik, the Rimefang alpha, finishes the thought, his thumbnail scraping along the fortress's northern wall. "My team can breach the east trench once the bombardment stops."
I trace the curve of Black Ice Bay with my finger, the storm blood in my veins thrumming in time with the cub's kicks. "Freya and the storm girls will accompany me to the southern cliffs. We'll summon the storm from there—its proximity to the Goddess's domain should amplify our power."
Freya looks up, her green eyes bright. "The edelweiss's energy is still strong in my veins. If we link our powers..."
"We can create a tempest that'll rip those ships apart." I finish, meeting her gaze. The memory of Kaya's potion—its sweet, icy burn—flashes through me, mingling with the warmth of Kai's touch.
Kai's fingers tighten on my waist. "While you handle the fleet, I'll lead the main assault. Ataq, you'll take the west flank; Bjorn, the north. We wait for Stella's signal, then hit them hard and fast."
Bjorn, a mountain of a man with a braid thick as my forearm, grunts in agreement. "My berserkers will tear through their lines like icebreakers."
The plan unfolds like a well-woven net: our forces are divided into three prongs, each waiting for the storm to shatter the enemy's aerial dominance.
The plan was finalized, everyone received their tasks and set off. The camp became mobilized, and an atmosphere of solemnity for the decisive battle spread.
As the others file out to ready their units, Kai pulls me close, his forehead resting against mine. "Be careful," he murmurs, his breath warm on my lips. "The Goddess may favor us, but Damon—"
"I know." I press a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. "But I'm not alone. Freya and the girls... we're a force the Council hasn't seen."
He kisses me then, a kiss that tastes of resolve and raw emotion, a promise to meet again under a sky free of Council ships. When we part, his eyes are fierce. "I'll see you on the other side, star."
---
The arctic dusk stretches into a violet haze as Freya and I emerge from my tent. The storm girls—twelve women with storm blood marks glowing on their skin—stand in formation, their furs lined with strips of reflective quartz.
But my focus is on the armor strapped to my body: the Wedding War Suit, forged from the same ice-tempered steel as Kai's, but inset with shards of snow edelweiss that pulse faintly green.
Freya whistles low. "Kaya said this armor was meant for Luna's final stand."
I run a hand over the breastplate, where a silver wolf howls at an emerald moon. "It feels... alive." The edelweiss shards warm under my touch, their energy merging with my storm blood.
The storm girls fall in behind me, their boots crunching on the snow. Freya takes my right, her ice axe slung over her shoulder. "Ready, Luna?"
"Ready."
---
The southern cliffs overlook Black Ice Bay like a giant's fist. Below, the Council ships float like obsidian beetles, their cannons silent but menacing. The air is preternaturally still, the only sound the distant throb of their engines and the rush of blood in my ears.
I kneel on the ice, pressing my palms to the ground. "Goddess, hear us," I murmur, my words carried by the wind. "Grant us the strength to cleanse."
Freya and the girls form a circle around me, their hands resting on each other's shoulders. When their storm blood marks ignite—green, blue, white—threads of energy leap between them, forming a glowing net.
My own power responds, the storm ribbons on my wrists unfurling like living things. I feel the edelweiss in my armor pulse, its energy merging with mine. The cub shifts, sending a jolt of warmth through my core—his strength, my strength, bound together.
"Now," I say, lifting my hands.
Freya's voice rises first, a wordless cry that echoes off the cliffs. The other girls join in, their voices blending into a harmonic hum. My storm blood surges, and the air above the bay begins to roil—first a whisper of wind, then a gale that whips my braids across my face.
The edelweiss shards in my armor glow brighter, casting a green halo around us. I close my eyes, focusing on the energy within—mine, the girls', the earth's—and push it outward.
A gust tears across the ice, so strong it makes the Council ships creak. The sky above the bay darkens, clouds swirling into a vortex. I feel Freya's power beside mine, the storm girls' energy feeding into the tempest.
The first drop of rain hits my cheek, followed by another, then a torrent. But this is no ordinary storm. It's a force born of desperation, of motherhood, of the earth itself.
"More," I growl, my hands raised to the sky.
The storm girls' marks blaze like stars. Freya's eyes roll back, her body shaking with the effort. And as our combined power peaks, the wind howls to a crescendo, lifting sheets of ice from the bay and sending them crashing into the ships.
The hurricane has begun.
The air is alive with green lightning, the sea beneath roiling into a maelstrom. I can feel the fleet's engines sputter, their shields faltering under the onslaught.
Beside me, Freya laughs, a wild, triumphant sound. "It's working, Stella! The storm—"
"STORM!!!"