The wind carried the smell of rain.
Lila stood atop the palace's western tower, eyes fixed on the roiling clouds gathering above the mountains. The sky churned—not in threat, but in invitation.
Cassian stood behind her, arms crossed. "You think the Storm King will answer?"
Lila didn't flinch. "He's the only one left. If I want to break the curse, I need all four elements. And storms are true."
Cassian was silent for a moment. "Truth can be a weapon."
She turned to him. "So can lies. Lord Veren has used both."
He tensed at the name.
"He's planning something," she said. "I don't think it was just about removing you. He's after the throne, and I think he's going to move soon."
Cassian gave a grim nod. "My uncle always had a taste for cleaning bloodlines. Now we know he's not just speaking metaphorically."
Lila's eyes darkened. "I'll stop him."
"You won't be alone."
As if summoned by fate, a hawk circled overhead, its cry sharp and clear. A storm was building—not just in the sky, but in the world itself.
That night, Lila descended into the southern cliffs, following an old map Isolde had pressed into her hand. The Storm King's domain wasn't a place. It was a boundary.
Lightning cracked above as she stepped onto the cliff's edge, the wind nearly toppling her. The air thrummed with pressure.
And then,
A voice like thunder behind her.
"You seek my gift?"
She turned. The Storm King was not a man so much as a force wrapped in a human shape—his eyes flashing like lightning behind clouds.
"I seek truth," Lila said. "And the power to shatter a curse rooted in lies."
"Then I'll show you your storm," he said. "But storms destroy as easily as they reveal. Can you survive it?"
"I have to."
And then the sky split.
Lightning struck the ground at her feet. The wind howled with voices—memories, doubts, truths too painful to face. Fire burned. Water churned. The earth trembled.
But she stood.
And the storm did not break her.
It crowned her.
When it ended, her eyes reflected the sky, silver with stormlight.
End of Chapter 11