Chapter 31: Pina Of The Storm Eagles

"Sister."

Jomin called out, his expression carefully dull. The bandaged woman glanced at him for a second, then shifted her gaze to Kren instead. His golden eyes met her pale blue ones, and for a heartbeat the world seemed to still around them. This wasn’t the quiet recognition of two sovereign beasts acknowledging each other’s power, like it had been earlier when they first noticed themselves. No, this was something far older, far more primal than that. To put it simply, in Kren’s mins, she was absolutely gorgeous.

Kren wasn’t the kind of man who let his lower half do his thinking, especially not in matters of state and the survival of his people. But there was no denying it — this Storm Eagle princess was something to behold. She stood a head shorter than him, maybe closer to two — Bernice had at least an feet or two on her — yet there was a petite, compact strength to her frame, the kind that made a man want to wrap his arms around her and shield her from the world, right up until he noticed the lean, corded muscle beneath her travel leathers. Muscle earned through years of relentless training, not gifted by soft living.

Her hair, even matted with dried blood and sweat, held a striking golden brown, threaded through with pure white feathers that ran from her scalp down the length of her back — plumage rather than hair in places, catching the morning light in a way that seemed almost deliberate, as if the mountain itself had dressed her for war.

Bandages wrapped tight around her skull, her ribs, and one leg, evidence of the fight she’d survived. And her eyes — sky blue, sharp, predatory — swept over Kren from head to toe with the same focus an eagle would give a field mouse. Then her gaze moved on, sliding across the rest of his party. It lingered far less on any of them than it had on him. Only Toa earned a longer look, and that look came wrapped in a frown, before she turned her attention back to her brother.

There was no warmth in her face as she urged her mount closer to him.

"I see you’re still alive, half-breed." she said. Jomin blinked, clearly not expecting her to acknowledge him at all. He shrugged it off easily.

"I thank the ancestors for watching over me, and for sending help." Jomin said, subtly angling the conversation away from himself, tilting his head toward Kren as the one responsible for his survival. His sister didn’t take the bait.

"Whose ancestors? Yours?" Jomin’s frown deepened at the question, though he answered anyway.

"Yes. And last I checked, they were yours too — unless our father suddenly stopped being my father sometime in the last twenty-four hours. So yes. Our ancestors." The words landed with more force than they needed to. His sister blinked, visibly caught off guard, as though she hadn’t expected him to have an answer at all.

"Just as well." she said, recovering. "I take it the rest of the foraging party didn’t make it?" Jomin’s glare sharpened instantly.

"Why ask me that, Pina? You ran before the first body even hit the ground." She stiffened, the accusation laid bare in front of everyone. The riders behind her exchanged confused glances, murmuring among themselves — clearly, this wasn’t the version of events she’d given them.

"We stood no chance against an ambush like that. There were more Lyndwyrms gathered in one place than any of us have ever seen. I am the future head of this clan, and future chief of our village. What exactly would you have had me do? That was a literal army of those things."

"That’s a rather generous way to describe cowardice, sister." Her composure cracked entirely at that. She swung down off her goat in one sharp motion, grunting through the landing as she was still injured, holding on to whatever bravado she carried, as she closed the distance toward Jomin with her hand already raised to hit him.

Fima was faster. Her hand closed around Pina’s wrist before the slap could land.

"Forgive the intrusion, Lady Pina. But Lord Jomin now stands under my king’s protection. Raise a hand against him again, and you spit on my sovereign’s honor. Step back and make no more threatening moves... Or I will remove the hand entirely."

Kren found himself smiling, momentarily distracted from the ’delicate family drama’ unfolding in front of him by the goats. How could he not be? While sister and brother traded barbs, every single mountain goat beneath the riders had begun trembling on its hooves, postures rigid, ears pinned flat — unmistakably terrified.

"Why are you afraid?" Kren asked.

Something shifted in the air the moment the words left his mouth. Simple words, ones anyone present could have understood on the surface — but everyone sensed there was more beneath them. Kren hadn’t spoken to the people around him. He’d spoken past them, in something older than language, something bestial in its intent. And the goats understood him perfectly.

All twelve of them — sturdy, broad-shouldered beasts standing a good five feet at the shoulder, coats a thick, woolly brownish-grey shot through with streaks of white along their flanks, curved horns spiraling back from wide, intelligent skulls — dropped their heads low and bowed in near-perfect unison.

"We hail the lion, baaaa!"

"We sense death on the wind, baaaa!"

"From the mountains above, they come, baaaa!"

"Wings, fangs, claws, and poison they bring, baaaa!"

"Beast Tongue." Pina said, the word escaping her before she could stop it. Her earlier dismissal of Kren and his party had been nothing more than a useless show of power, and Jomin had noticed exactly what she was doing — which explained his own actions a moment ago.

And then Fima’s actions had only enhanced it, punishing the young Storm Eagle heir for ignoring a true monarch. Possibly her future husband, depending on how this all played out.

They were subtle, cascading moments, each one quietly redirecting every eye present toward Kren — not as simply another traveler standing in their camp, but as the only individual worth paying attention to. And then, without any fanfare at all, he’d turned and spoken directly to a herd of mountain goats. Using an ability tied to only the rarest, most illustrious bloodlines — one that required a crest to even unlock. Beast Tongue. The mark of a true beast king. The ability to speak directly to the beasts of this world was worth more than gold or armies combined, and it was, in this single moment, the thing that made Kren genuinely dangerous.

"Who are you?" Pina asked, finally turning fully away from Jomin, yanking her wrist free of Fima’s grip. The Margay tribeswoman let her go without resistance — only to move faster than Pina could manage a single step toward Kren, placing herself neatly between the eagle princess and the lion prince.

"That is as close as your disrespect is permitted to my king. Do not take a step further."

The rest of Pina’s escort stiffened from the threat, as some started reaching for their weapons. Kren chuckled, stepping forward to rest a hand on Fima’s shoulder.

"That’s enough, Fima. Stand down." She gave him a stiff nod before retreating to a position just behind him. Toa and Aki had already claimed positions flanking Kren, tension coiled and ready, while Ruhu drifted closer as well, fully back in his human form, an easy, disarming expression on his face. But Kren wasn’t finished.

"We don’t have time for introductions, Princess. Your goats have excellent senses for reading the mountain air, and they’ve just told me Lyndwyrms are inbound — fast, likely gliding straight down off the peaks to pick us off one at a time while we’re standing out in the open like this. We should move. And as heir to your clan, isn’t offering hospitality to a foreign dignitary supposed to come before anything else?" Kren stepped closer as he spoke, closing the distance until he towered over her, his sheer height and breadth genuinely intimidating up close. Pina swallowed audibly and took an involuntary step back.

"H-how am I supposed to believe anything you say?" she managed, glancing toward the rest of her riders for support. Kren only shrugged, running a hand back through his white hair, the single braided lock at the front swaying with the motion in the mountain wind.

Pina’s heart skipped, betraying her. Kren’s warm, chocolate brown skin seemed to catch and hold the morning light, and that infuriating half-smile of his revealed teeth just a shade too sharp to be entirely human — the faint, unmistakable edge of a true predator’s fangs. It left her caught somewhere between wariness and an unwelcome pull toward him, something low and instinctive stirring beneath her ribs. Even her inner beast — that ephemeral, mystical, locked-away, half of herself she’d carried her entire life — shifted in quiet recognition of Kren. And not a simple recognition of an equal, but of a sovereign unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

"You don’t have to believe me." Kren said. "Just look at the sky. Let your own eyes decide whether I’m lying." He said to her with a smile.

He wasn’t. Pina’s blue eyes contracted to pinpricks the instant she spotted the shapes cutting through the air above — dozens of them, gliding down from the hidden peaks in loose, hunting formation. She scrambled back onto her goat immediately, hauling Jomin up behind her by the back of his collar in one sharp motion, an act that visibly surprised both Kren and her own brother.

"The rest of you, double up! Carry our guests and allies with you. Damagi — hand your mount over to the... to the king? Now! Move, or we’re all dead before we reach the ridge!"