Chapter Thirty-Four
You’re Mine
Chains snapped. Fire lit his hands. Mist burned in his eyes.
He had only one vow left to give.
The world snapped awake.
Gasps tore the air, voices rising in fractured confusion. Benches screeched across the stone floor as men lurched to their feet. Guards shouted over the din, steel rasping free.
But Viktor saw only her.
Amerei’s gaze found his—still locked, still burning with the vow they had whispered in the dark.
She broke through the crush of bodies, skirts catching, shoulders colliding, until she reached him. Her hands seized his collar, clinging tight, as if letting go would tear her in two.
He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her flush against him, shielding her with the breadth of his body. Her face pressed to his throat. His hand cradled the back of her head.
“Was it real?” she whispered, voice shaking.
“This is real,” he rasped.
His fingers tangled in her hair.
“You are real.”
For one breath, the chamber dissolved. There was only her grip, his vow, their hearts hammering together.
“I saw them. The nobles,” she murmured, her voice trembling but sure. “Some of them looked to me—like they still believe.”
Viktor bent close, lips brushing her temple, his hand firm at her waist.
“Then we’ve learned what we needed.”
Her eyes lifted to his, wide and unguarded.
“We shouldn’t stay.”
“No.”
His thumb traced the line of her jaw before he caught himself.
“I’m going to get you out of here.”
For a heartbeat, they stayed like that—her fingers knotted in his collar, his brow lowered until their foreheads nearly touched, breath mingling in the narrow space between them. The promise there was unspoken, undeniable.
Then Viktor forced himself to step back just as Gabriel, Evander, and Jasmine pushed into their circle.
Gabriel’s eyes flicked between them, though his tone stayed sharp.
“Exits?”
“Two near the dais,” Viktor answered, scanning the guards. “And one behind us—barred.”
Evander swore low. “Then we move fast, before—”
The torches guttered.
Smoke swelled like a tide.
Uneasy laughter rippled through the chamber.
Silver trays appeared as if conjured, goblets of wine pressed into elven hands. For a moment it almost looked like a feast again—nobles lifting their cups, eyes darting toward the dais.
Zeporah rose, her smile slow and serpentine.
“Most of you endured the first measure,” she said, voice sweet as rot. “You did not falter. You did not break.”
Whispers stirred, brittle and uncertain.
Was this still a game? A spectacle?
Laughter cracked thin in the smoke, too high, too nervous.
Amerei’s fingers tightened around Viktor’s wrist. Her gaze slid past him, sharp and searching.
“There,” she breathed.
A handful of Casqadian lords hesitated—goblets lowered, eyes flicking not to the queen but to her. For the briefest instant, faith glimmered through the haze.
Gabriel followed her line of sight, jaw tightening.
“The elves don’t waver,” he observed. “Only the humans.”
Evander’s eyes darted to the exits again. “We have to get out of here.”
Viktor’s hand laced with Amerei’s, anchoring them both.
He felt it in his gut—this wasn’t over. Not even close.
Zeporah’s gaze cut like a knife, her voice dropping low, merciless.
“Shall we test loyalty, then?”
The smoke thickened, coiling upward in black tendrils.
Then it became iron.
Chains closed around Viktor’s arms, wrenching them behind his back.
His breath punched from his lungs.
Shackles seared cold into his skin, burning deeper the more he strained. All around, humans cried out as the same fetters dragged them to their knees.
“Viktor!” Amerei’s voice cracked across the hall.
Laughter rippled from the elves, sharp as glass. The bound humans strained against their chains, outrage breaking into shouts.
Gabriel shifted, ready to move—Evander’s grip stopped him cold. Across the press, Jasmine twisted in her fetters. Gabriel met her eyes, one glance saying don’t.
The smoke reached for Amerei too—curling like snakes around her wrists—then hesitated.
Her blood resisted.
Half-elf. Untouchable.
Zeporah’s smile was vicious.
With a flick of her wrist, the chains slammed closed, forcing Amerei’s hands together with a hiss.
Gasps broke from the human nobles—outrage, disbelief. The elves stood untouched, their composure crumbling into wary silence.
Zeporah’s eyes gleamed, cruel and knowing.
“There she is. The halfling traitor. Daughter of Cassandra, whose army stirs in Sevrak. Did you think I would not see it? Did you think I would not know?”
Her laugh cracked sharp against the chamber walls. She circled Amerei like a predator, every word a wound.
“Your father cannot contend with what is coming. And you—kneeling before me—you are nothing. A pawn. A warning.”
Her boot struck out, sweeping Amerei’s legs. She hit her knees, wrists bound, chin bowing as Zeporah’s hand twisted into her hair.
Viktor surged against his chains, every muscle screaming. Heat tore through his chest, searing up his throat, pressing at his eyes until his vision blurred. The fetters cut deeper, the smoke biting in—but the pressure only mounted.
Zeporah’s voice slid through his skull like smoke:
“A soldier in love with a princess—how quaint. How pathetic.”
Something inside Viktor tore open—not with noise, but with clarity.
Not the chains.
Not the hall.
Not the watching crowd.
Only her. Amerei.
Kneeling. Bound. Still reaching for him.
If he survived this and left her here, it would not matter what remained of him afterward.
His jaw locked, breath ragged.
Light flickered at his skin.
Blue mist welled behind his lashes.
“Viktor—” Amerei’s voice broke, caught between fear and surrender.
Zeporah’s grip tightened in her hair, forcing her upright.
Nothing else mattered. Amerei’s eyes found Viktor’s.
Something inside him went still. He strained against the chains, power rising like a tide he could no longer hold.
“You’re not hers.”
His gaze burned into Amerei’s.
“You’re mine.”
Chains snapped.
The sound cracked like thunder.
Every gaze swung to him.
Viktor rose, fetters falling in shards at his feet.
His hands torched alive with blue fire, veins lit as if the storm itself coursed through him.
Mist flared behind his eyes.
No longer hidden. No longer tamed.
His voice split the chamber:
“Release her.”
Silence.
The hall itself seemed to hold its breath.
Zeporah froze.
Her sneer faltered. Her grip tightened in Amerei’s hair.
Horror dawned.
“YOU.”