“Dask,” Gabriel muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “High-Captain and handfast in one day. Stars help us all.”
Storne exhaled a plume of smoke, bone-dry.
“Seraphim, with me. Leave the rest for the wedding night—if you’ve the discipline.”
“Yes, Commander,” Viktor answered, eyes never leaving Amerei’s.
The instant Storne walked away, he leaned close, lips dragging fire along her temple, his voice a low rasp meant only for her.
“Pray the council keeps me long, Amerei. If I return too soon…”
Heat flickered at her ear.
“…I won’t wait for vows.”
Her breath caught—not in fear, but in desire. A shiver chased down her spine, knees softening before she could stop it.
Viktor felt it.
His mouth curved, restrained and knowing—then he straightened and turned away.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Of Blood and War
Steel might win battles. Blood would decide the war.
The echo of Viktor’s vow still burned in his chest as he descended the stair at Storne’s side.
High-Captain Ivan Azroc waited below, pale hair gleaming, ghost-blue eyes narrowing at Viktor’s approach. He clasped Viktor’s hand with a short shake of the head.
“I knew you’d go far when I pinned your captain’s insignia. Never thought it’d be dragons that carried you there.”
“Neither did I,” Viktor said, the sound rougher than laughter but close enough to pass for it.
Ivan’s gaze lingered, sharpened by curiosity. “But marriage—?”
Viktor arched a brow toward Storne. “You told him already?”
Storne’s tone was flat as forged iron. “He’d hear it soon enough.”
Ivan let out a low, uneasy laugh. “Elváliev’s not going to like it…”
“We don’t intend to tell them,” Storne said. “Not yet.”
Ivan’s mouth thinned.
“Then he’d better rise fast. Until he’s Commander, the elves won’t take him seriously.”
Storne nodded slowly.
“When Amerei is crowned,” he said, “she may name him Prince Consort. But not before her coronation—and not without the elves’ support. First, we must legitimize her claim. I await Xavien’s answer to my request before the Senate tomorrow.”
Ivan’s expression hardened.
“Then we must be ready. Once the elves name her queen, war is declared.”
The words struck Viktor like a spear to the gut. But Storne only looked to Ivan, voice cutting.
