Her Name is Amerei
He learned her name—and in it, his undoing.
Morning broke with pounding hooves and ragged breath as they drove their horses up hills, around bends, through thickets and broken brush.
The farther south they traveled, the more vivid the land became—mountains rising in the east, glowing purple in the early sun, while the pine of the west gave way to oaks, sycamores, and blossoming ash, like a painter shifting strokes mid-canvas.
From behind, Viktor watched her—watched the way her hair streamed across her back, catching light each time they slipped from shadow into sun.
Dask, she’s beautiful.
Her ears were not pointed like her father’s, but her skin—pale and porcelain—reminded him of the northern elves of Elváliev.
He thought of what Gabriel had told him, but it didn’t help. If Amerei was half-elven, then Storne must be as well. The pieces didn’t fit—but somehow, she did.
He let the thought fade as they slowed beside a stream.
While he was still dismounting, Evander called, “Your name—it’s Halyon, isn’t it? Amerei thinks it’s Aerdanian.”
Viktor ran a hand down his horse’s mane, gave a low laugh.
“It’s an old Aerdanian name. Not many Seraphims left.”
“Seraphim,” Amerei said, glancing over her shoulder, “meansfiery ones.”
Viktor tilted his head, surprised—and smiled.
“It does.”
Her eyes lingered a moment longer than the words allowed.
Then she turned away—
with the faintest, most dangerous grin.
He stared after her.
Beautiful. Brilliant. Dask, I’m in trouble.
Evander knelt at the stream, rinsing mud from his hands. He started to scrub the emblem on his chest, but stilled—Viktor’s hardened gaze was on him.
With a flick of his fingers, he shook the water away and declared, “Zrynon is a name of power. Many elven kings have carried it.”
Viktor gave a quiet nod as he unfastened a feed bag and set it on the ground.
“And your name?”
“Zrynon,” Evander said proudly.
Viktor looked between him and Amerei.
“You’re siblings?”
Evander smirked but said nothing.
Amerei glanced at Viktor—and gave him a look that was all mischief and moonlight.
Just long enough to make sure he saw it.
