Before Viktor could reply—before he could even breathe—he felt it.
A warning on the wind.
Hooves. Torchlight. The rhythm of pursuit.
“The Queen of Casqadia comes this way.”
Viktor looked back. Breath gone.
“Amerei…”
He was already running.
He turned, launched back through the trees like a man chased by fire. Branches clawed at his shoulders. Roots tore at his runners. The forest blurred, the wind rushing ahead, leading him.
Amerei. Amerei.
Light broke through the dark—small at first, then brighter. A flare of gold between redwoods. His heart slammed against his ribs.
He drove harder.
* * *
“Do you hear that?” Gabriel’s hand went to his sword.
Amerei didn’t answer. She was already out of the saddle.
“Amerei—”
But she was running.
Blind through the trees.
The sound of him was everywhere—footfalls crashing through the underbrush without care, like nothing else in the world mattered.
And then—
He was there.
She collided with him, breath knocked from her lungs.
Salt-sweat against her cheek.
His arms crushed around her before they could fall.
Her fists caught in his tunic, his head dropped to her shoulder.
Trembling.
Gasping.
Whole.
“What are you doing out here?”
His voice cracked, ragged with fear.
“I’ve got to take you home.”
