“Amerei?”
And then she appeared—golden hair spilling like light into the shadows, emerald eyes wide, breath trembling against parted lips.
Viktor froze.
Not at the pit.
Not at the mission.
At her.
For a heartbeat, he forgot his own name—forgot even the ground beneath him.
By the stars…
He snapped himself back.
“Stay here.”
He rolled aside, sliding his knife into its sheath, heart hammering.
His voice came sharper now.
“Stay here. No matter what you hear.”
On one knee, he unhooked the corded leather sling from his back. From his chest pack he drew the rock he’d mined from Oustinon—rough, heavy, volatile.
Rising, he scanned the moss for bearings. The monster’s trail carved southwest. He turned north, moving faster, breath quickening.
Branches thinned. Light opened ahead—
A clearing.
Viktor slipped the stone into the sling’s cradle. He swung once, twice—then snapped his arm forward.
The rock shrieked skyward—
and exploded.
His pulse thundered as he tore back through the trees, eyes flicking between path and canopy, one hand brushing his daggers.
The forest thickened at the base of a bluff. Brambles clawed close.
He ducked low, listening—
Then he climbed. Sandstone scraped his palms as he pulled upward.
He raised his head above the ledge—
Gold trim. The elf.
Dask. They moved.
He surged over the rocks, ripped through thorns, and tackled the elf to the ground.
“What are you doing?” the elf hissed.
Viktor clamped a hand over his mouth.
