Storne vanished down the steps.
Viktor moved. Not toward the armory. Toward her.
He crossed the hall in two strides and caught her in his arms.
“I should’ve kissed you goodbye,” he said—
and then he did.
The kiss was fierce, desperate, stealing her breath as surely as it gave it back. Her knees buckled; her fingers clutched his shoulders. Her whisper trembled against his lips. “Come back to me.”
His vow burned between them.
“Nothing will keep me from you.”
The spark leapt—soul to soul, fingertip to fingertip—
and the flames came.
They surged through him, racing up his arms, bursting from his chest like wings of fire. Heat spilled outward, kissing her skin, curling around her as though the Endowment itself reached for her too. He staggered—not from pain, but from awe.
The fire did not consume him. It crowned him.
Amerei pressed back against the frame, trembling, as light wrapped her in his vow.
Through eyes alive with blue flame, Viktor looked at her.
“Nothing.”
The fire sank back into his skin.
He turned, the hall bright with afterglow—
and sprinted into the storm gathering beyond the gates.
Chapter Sixty-Three
The Reckoning
They had already outrun every power that tried to break them.
Now they would answer destiny with fire.
Amerei watched him vanish down the stairs, her heart aching with yearning yet alive with hope. Juliet crossed toward her, a gentle smile softening her lips.
“This Leolis does not yet know… he is standing at the gates of Hell.”
“What will Viktor do?” Amerei asked, falling back against her chamber doorway as though it could hold her upright.
Juliet brushed her shoulder as she passed, voice low and sure.
“Your betrothed commands fire, the wind, the sky.”
She sank into a chair in the study.
“His powers are not meant to trifle with men.”
“So he will fight them with arms?” Amerei pressed, fingers curling against the frame.
