Then he pointed.
“The birds have returned.”
They pressed on in silence, helping one another over ravines, roots, and the jagged bones of the forest.
Each time Viktor steadied Amerei—just a hand to guide her, just a touch to lift—something tightened in his chest. He tried to hide it, to bury it, but the moments stayed with him all the same.
Small, ordinary… quietly magnificent.
“We’ve lost our horses,” Evander groaned, breaking the stillness. He tossed a pinecone from palm to palm. “…and our food.”
Viktor exhaled.
“They ran until they could no longer feel danger. And if I had to guess…”
He ducked beneath a low branch and pointed ahead.
“They stopped here.”
The forest opened.
Two horses waited by the water’s edge—one roan, one dark as night. One bore a glimmering blanket beneath its saddle; the other stood bare.
Evander ran ahead, catching both by the reins. The roan’s torn straps slipped through his hands, but he wrestled them into order.
Amerei gestured to the raven-dark stallion.
“Please—take mine, Captain Seraphim.”
Viktor hesitated, ready to refuse—until he looked at her.
She mounted the white horse behind Evander, her hands light on the saddle, her frame etched in pale morning light.
Something in him relented.
Without a word, he stepped to the black horse. He brushed a hand in front of its eye, stroked its muzzle, loosened the saddle, and lifted the gold-trimmed blanket.
His gaze found Amerei’s.
“Thank you,” he said, voice quiet.
She gave a small nod, a faint smile meeting his gaze before she looked away.
He tightened the girth and mounted, reins settling easily in his hands.
“We’ll ride through the forest,” he said, turning the stallion’s head. “The trees will keep us hidden.”
Evander fought with the torn reins of his own mount.
“It’ll be well after nightfall before we reach camp!”
Viktor pressed his heel lightly to the stallion’s side.
“We’ll ride hard once we pass Hythe’s Gap.”
His eyes stayed on Amerei—close enough to reach, yet already too far.
Chapter Three
