Chapter Sixty-Two
Crowned in Flame
The Endowment chose him—then crowned him.
The blindfold hit the floor.
Viktor burst through Amerei’s door, boots thudding against stone.
“Commander.”
Storne was already in the hall, strapping his knives into place, the steel gleam answering the flare in his eyes.
“Leolis comes,” he rasped. “One hundred strong. Charioteers.”
Viktor stilled, fists tightening. “They’re after the munitions.”
Storne’s stare met his—a silent accord forged in the same flame.
He turned sharply to Evander.
“Feindoran,” he ordered. “Find him. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Evander didn’t bow. He ran.
Storne fastened his belt and met Viktor’s gaze
“I’m calling every able man to defend this estate. You and I…”
His voice dropped to a growl.
“…we’re going after Leolis alone.”
The Endowment stirred in Viktor’s veins.
“Understood.”
He seized his mantle, threw it under his arm.
Juliet’s voice carried from the veranda—calm, cutting, unmistakable.
“Are you remembering your father at the Gearíyan Strait?”
Storne paused mid-stride, a smile like tempered steel flashing in his eyes.
“I am.”
The Gearíyan Strait?
Juliet straightened, her tone turning to challenge.
“Then who will guide our Ruakite?”
“He is the son of Eiliyah Aradostylan,” Storne said, pride threading through the words. “And it’s her other son who speaks to him.”
Juliet’s mouth curved, fierce and knowing.
“Go on then,” she said, eyes finding Viktor. “Be a good husband—and fend off the wolves.”
Amerei.
Storne was already descending the stairs, but Viktor turned.
She stood in her doorway, every line of her body waiting for him.
“The armory, High-Captain,” Storne called.
“Yes, sir.”
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.