The sky was still dark when Viktor climbed the ridge.
Shadows clung to the valley below, the first edge of dawn not yet breaking the mountains.
He stood in silence, arms braced against the chill, breath clouding in the thin air as the pale outlines of the practice field emerged.
Hooves struck the stone behind him.
Gabriel rode up on a gray, broad-chested stallion that tossed its head, ears pinned and teeth snapping at the bit.
“Storne had the hands scour the stables for something mean enough to keep pace with you,” Gabriel said, hauling on the reins as the beast lunged. “I can’t promise he’ll behave. But the lads swear he’s finally stopped biting everyone.”
Viktor huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh, though his eyes stayed on the valley.
“This is the whole of the practice field?” he asked.
Gabriel nodded.
“Furthest targets line the base of that mountain.”
Viktor’s gaze climbed higher, to the cliff face looming over the valley.
“And beyond that?”
“Only a lake so deep no one’s ever touched bottom,” Gabriel said with a bark of laughter. “The kind of cliff fools like you sneak off to jump from.”
Viktor’s mouth twitched, but before he could answer, more hooves crested the ridge.
Commander Storne rode into view with Evander at his right—and Amerei at his left.
Her hair was bound back, her riding cloak drawn close. The first light of dawn touched her face like fire over water. Her gaze caught on him and held, steady, unguarded—captivated.
The morning seemed to hold its breath for her.
Strength stirred in Viktor where exhaustion had lingered, sharper than the ache in his chest.
Then Storne moved forward.
“Were you able to rest, Captain?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual. “Or did the Kryonites drown you in their brew?”
Storne knows every damn thing that happens in this camp.
“I’m strong, Commander.”
“Good.”
Without warning, Evander slid from his saddle, drew his bow, and sent an arrow thudding into the nearest target.
Amerei flinched at the sudden crack.
Storne’s hand shot out, pushing the bow down without even glancing his way, as if he’d been expecting it all along.
He turned back to Viktor and Gabriel.
“Captain Feindoran—wait until Seraphim has passed the first line of targets. Then ride that stallion as hard as he’ll carry you. Both of you go to the end of the field and turn back.”
At last Storne fixed Viktor with a look that left no room for escape.
“And you—do not hold back.”
