“Amerei, I can guide Captain Seraphim. I can hone his blade, test his fire. But what he faces beyond rank…”
His gaze locked on Viktor’s.
“…depends upon his loyalty to you.”
He moved between them, drawing their hands near.
“For this moment, I speak to you both outside your titles.”
His voice lowered, almost reverent.
“As sovereign and shield.”
The words struck like steel to anvil, reverberating through Viktor’s chest.
He dared a glance at Amerei.
Her lashes lowered, her lips parted as though she felt it too—the vow, the weight, the truth binding them tighter than chains.
For a breath, neither spoke.
The waterfalls thundered, as if the cliffs themselves bore witness.
Viktor’s hand ached to reach for her, to seal what was already written without words.
But Storne’s grip held them fast—father, commander, keeper of their vow.
When he released them, the air seemed to shatter.
He drew a slow breath.
“There is more you must know,” he said. “I hold the spellbook Zeporah used to bind souls to dragons—the Tome of the Hollow Flame.”
Viktor’s head snapped up.
Amerei’s eyes widened, lit like lightning through the mist.
“My wife’s father confiscated it from the elves after the Bloodforge,” Storne continued. “When Cassandra died, I sealed it in an onyx vault beneath Fyreglade. But one of my own betrayed me. Caelirion Gray transcribed its pages and delivered them to Zeporah. It multiplied her knowledge a thousandfold.”
He turned his head toward Viktor.
“The moment you told me she sent you into Oustinon, I knew—she was the one who called them out.”
A shadow crossed his face—anger or grief, Viktor didn’t know.
“You must understand, Viktor,” he said, “the cost of fighting an enemy both man and beast may exceed your loyalty toanyone.”
The words had barely fallen when Viktor answered, voice rough with certainty.
“I am loyal to you, Lady Zrynon.”
Their eyes met—his promise laid bare, unyielding.
She began to speak, but Storne was already moving, breaking the moment with the rasp of steel.
“Let’s make certain of that,” he said, drawing a sword from the cart. “Before you awaken to Vykenraven.”
Amerei’s breath went shallow.
