64. Chapter Sixty-Four - Leigh
I pace the Blade garrison courtyard.
Each second is an eternity.
With every movement in my periphery, I pray that Wilder and the others are returning from their mission.
But the silence only grows.
Where the hell are they?
Alden’s words from my dream replay in my mind like a haunting melody.
Maybe he was playing mind games, and my friends are okay.
But the disquiet in my gut refuses to subside, twisting and turning like an eel.
“Quit it,” Isolde says for the umpteenth time.
“They will be back any minute.”
The front door flies open, and Brigid enters, holding the hand of a girl who must be Ravi’s sister.
She has his same round face, friendly eyes, and guarded smile.
“Sama?” I ask.
The girl flies into my arms.
Her body shakes with sobs.
“I’m so sorry!” she cries.
“I should have stayed and helped them.”
I hold her close, stroking her hair.
“What happened?” I stare at the door, desperate for Wilder to walk through it and take me in his arms, to promise everything is okay.
But Brigid only walks over to the bar cart and pours herself a large drink, downing it in one gulp before pouring another.
The door remains closed, Wilder nowhere to be seen.
“What happened?” I demand, suddenly unable to breathe.
Sama’s sobs intensify.
“We left them and?—”
Gianna, Stellan, and my grandmother stumble into the garrison.
My exhale is audible with relief, but my expression quickly falls when I see Wilder is not with them.
Neither is Marlowe.
My ears begin to ring as Stellan sets my grandmother on her feet with care.
Despite his gentleness, the sight of him ignites fury in my chest.
This man was going to sell my country to the wolves.
But I lock eyes with my grandmother, and a sob bubbles to the surface.
I go to her.
Handing Sama to Pallas, I rush to my grandmother’s side with tears in my eyes.
“Grandmother,” I say, pulling her away from Stellan.
“Leigh, something happened,” Gianna announces, but I barely hear her as I gather my grandmother in my arms.
Gods, I missed her.
My stomach roils.
She’s been Zeus’s prisoner, and I had no idea.
I believed she was in Glaucus this whole time, ignoring me after the news about Fynn broke, angry with me for making a mess of my time as queen, failing to unite the Council as she suggested.
Instead, Zeus kidnapped her, and by her pungent smell, he abused her during her captivity.
I grimace.
“If I had known, I would have come to find you,” I whisper.
“Don’t blame yourself. You have a country to run,” my grandmother replies.
Her words cut deep, and shame eats at me like a corrosive acid.
Do I have a country to run?
The Council and Janus abandoned me, and part of me deserved it.
I thought they were all conspiring against me, but now that I am alone, I wish I had them here to help me decide what to do about my upcoming meeting with Zeus.
“Leigh,” Gianna says again, her voice insistent.
I open my eyes, expecting Wilder to be there, but my lips pinch.
Still nothing.
Gianna clutches her chest when I meet her stare.
“Where is he?” I ask, unwrapping myself from my grandmother’s embrace.
Gianna and Stellan share a teeth-rattling look, drawing my attention to their family resemblance.
They also have similar noses and mouths.
“Leigh, he chose to stay,” Gianna says.
I shake my head.
“Stay where?”
“With the wolves,” Gianna replies.
“Zeus and Alden have him and Marlowe. They are prisoners.”
No.
She’s wrong.
Alden and I are on the same side.
He agreed to take the cure for Tanith.
White-hot anger pulses within me.
My shadows beg for release.
If he betrayed me, then there would be hell to pay.
Easy, Leigh, you don’t know if Alden double-crossed you , Aradia soothes.
I exhale.
Of course, he lied.
He took Wilder as a prisoner to rub salt in the wound.
He probably didn’t believe me when I told him about the cure.
He could be playing Zeus , my father suggests.
I pause, considering the possibility.
But I can only be sure of Alden’s true intentions by seeing him in person.
My body is numb, and every fiber of my being screams at me to rush to Wilder’s side, to save him from whatever fate awaits him, remembering how Alden threatened to keep him in a cage.
However, I force myself to take a deep breath.
If Alden is indeed on our side, acting rashly could jeopardize his plans and put Wilder in even greater danger.
I have to trust that Alden loves Tanith enough not to give up this opportunity to save her, like I wouldn’t give up on Wilder.
I’ll resolve this crisis come morning.
It’s a difficult choice, but I must focus on the bigger picture and the safety of my entire country, even if it means temporarily setting aside my desires.
Refusal claws its way up my throat.
I will not fail.
The love of my life sacrificed himself to save my friends and family.
I’ll do the same for him.
The words I never spoke, the confession I held back, now burn a hole in my chest.
The gods won’t let us both die before I tell him, just once, that I love him.
I’ve loved him for months, silently, achingly, and now time is running out.
“We need to go get them,” Isolde says to me.
“There’s no time,” Gianna says, glancing at the clock on the wall.
Dawn will be here soon.
“Wilder could be dead come morning,” Isolde insists.
I rub my swollen eyes.
The decision I’m about to make will likely strain my relationship with Isolde.
She will hate me for what I’m about to say, but being a leader means making tough choices that won’t always be popular.
It’s not about making friends; it’s about doing what’s best for everyone.
I can only hope that once this crisis is resolved and the dust settles, Isolde will understand my reasoning.
Then perhaps we can still maintain our closeness.
“Everyone to the media room,” I announce.
“We need to talk.”
“Leigh?” Pain radiates from Sol’s gaze.
“Wilder knows what he’s doing.” He’s putting his faith in me.
I need to put mine in him and Alden.
Isolde takes a moment to hold my gaze before she nods, choosing to work with me rather than against me.
Each step toward the media room is akin to wading through quicksand.
Pitying stares burn into my back, heavy with a sympathy and sorrow that assumes Wilder is already lost.
I bite back a sob.
They’re wrong, I want to scream.
We’ll bring him home.
But the words lodge in my throat.
He’s a prisoner of my enemies, and the deal I made with Alden feels precariously thin, like a fragile thread dangling over an abyss.
If I’m wrong about Alden, if I’ve misjudged him, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
But we haven’t lost yet.