Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
ALENA
Cold winds spilled down from the snow-dusted peaks above, tugging at cloaks and sending dry leaves skittering across the ground.
Alena stood at the base of the trail beneath a canopy of maples, their leaves blazing in hues of copper, crimson, and gold—an autumn fire racing up the mountains. They loomed above her, their jagged spines lost in thickening clouds.
She swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the straps of her heavy pack. The sanctuary lay somewhere far above, its path already feeling impossibly far.
“Bare essentials only,” Phoebe said, testing the weight of Alena’s pack. “The priestesses at the top will have everything else we need.”
Alena nodded, though her stomach twisted. She turned one last time to San, who stood a few paces back with a wool cloak clutched around her shoulders. Her thick golden hair caught the dappled light and gleamed.
“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Alena asked. She’d probably asked a dozen times already, but she couldn’t help herself.
Phoebe sighed. “Alena, they wouldn’t make it halfway. They’ll be safer here—more food, better shelter.”
It was true. But Alena was leaving until spring, and anything could happen to San and her boy while she was gone. The thought of losing either of them tore at her.
San gave her a soft smile. “Ama sent us good people.” Her gaze drifted to the elderly couple tending their olive grove.
The old man steadied a ladder while his wife, a stout woman with a face weathered by sun and years, demonstrated how to strike the branches with a long pole.
Leaves rustled, and olives rained down into the net Kaixo held open below, his brow furrowed in concentration.
The couple had taken in the two Non-Humans without hesitation, grateful for the extra hands and unconcerned with who or what they were. Alena and Phoebe had left them their three horses as thanks.
“I want to stay here,” San continued, gesturing to the quiet village nestled at the foot of the northern Achaean mountains.
Smoke curled from hearths, and the clang of tools echoed from a distant blacksmith.
It was the kind of place any Rasennan patrol would pass by without noticing, and that made it perfect.
“We’ll be happy. You must go and train.”
Alena’s throat tightened. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be apart.”
San reached out and brushed a strand of windblown hair from Alena’s face—a motherly gesture that made Alena’s chest ache. She would miss that most of all. “It won’t be long. Spring will come. And you will find answers.”
Behind them, Phoebe’s voice rang out briskly. “Time to go.”
Alena pulled San into her arms. “As soon as the snow melts,” she whispered, “and the path is clear, we’ll return.”
San didn’t let go. “We’ll be here, waiting until you come back.”
She turned to Kaixo just as he let out a startled shriek—olives were tumbling down on him from the branches above. Eyes squeezed shut, he thrust out the net, trying to catch them. San laughed, her face lighting up with a warmth that cut through the chill in Alena’s chest.
She looked at peace. Truly happy. And after everything San had survived, how could Alena say no to that?
She squeezed San’s arm once more, committing the moment to memory, then lifted a hand in farewell to Kaixo, who grinned from beneath the olive trees. “I’ll miss you both more than you know. Please take care of each other—and stay safe.”
“Ama will watch over us all.” San held up the small carved figurine of Ama, the Non-Human goddess she always kept close. It was similar to Kaixo’s, except worn smooth with age.
Flashes of Leukos carving Kaixo’s figurine stirred in Alena’s mind, but she quickly pushed them away. It was still too painful to think about him.
With her pack slung over her shoulders and a heavy heart, Alena followed Phoebe up the winding mountain path. Each step felt like she was walking deeper into a silence she didn’t want to face.
Two wolves trailed after her—the large grey one with white front paws, and a sleek black female who had both followed her from the Western Lands. They padded through the fallen leaves, a quiet comfort, a final tether to the world she was leaving behind.
But they couldn’t follow her up the mountain, and even if they remained in the surrounding forests, the bond between them wouldn’t hold over such a great distance once she reached the sanctuary.
As the trees gave way to rock and Phoebe murmured warnings of bears and mountain lions lurking in the caves above, it was time to let the wolves go.
Alena rested her forehead against the grey wolf’s for a long, silent breath, then turned to the black one, brushing her hand down the smooth line of her back.
“Thank you, my friends. For everything,” she whispered. “Now, go. Be free.”
They lingered a moment longer, as if sensing her reluctance, then turned and melted into the trees.
Only once they had vanished did Alena rise again, the weight in her chest deepening with every step. One by one, she had let them all go.
She hadn’t even begun her training, and already she felt more alone than she had in days.
They hiked the steep mountain path all day, dark clouds gathering above in warning. By nightfall, the first cold drops of rain had begun to fall. They found shelter in a narrow cave, built a fire from damp kindling, and took turns keeping watch through the long, shivering night.
The next morning, the climb turned brutal. The path rose into near-vertical flights of stairs carved straight into the mountainside, slick with mist and swallowed by fog. More than once, Alena lost sight of Phoebe—until a firm hand seized her arm and pulled her upwards.
The ascent ended at a narrow ledge, barely wider than a man’s foot, jutting out over a sheer, bottomless drop.
“No. Absolutely not,” Alena said, recoiling at the sight. “We’ll never make it.”
Phoebe shot her an unimpressed look. “You will. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Alena’s voice rose, edged with fear and fatigue. “That’s all I’ve done since I left with you. You dragged me halfway across the empire, made me abandon my friends—and I still don’t even know where we’re going!”
Phoebe pulled the fur pelt tighter around her shoulders, then checked the sword at her hip and the bow and quiver slung across her back. “To a sanctuary. A safe place where we can train.”
Training to become the Omega. To kill the Emperor.
And maybe—just maybe—find a way to save her sister.
It sounded impossible.
The cold wind pressed at Alena’s back, shoving her towards the edge. With a reluctant breath, she followed Phoebe forward.
“Whose sanctuary?” she demanded. “At least tell me that.”
“Answers are earned, not given,” Phoebe said. “Cross the path—and I’ll tell you.”
The path was a ribbon of stone, barely wide enough for a foot, flanked by rusted iron chains wedged into the cliff face.
Alena inhaled sharply. “You’re sure about this?”
“We’ll use the rope. There are hooks built into the rock. Go slow, and you’ll be fine.”
So she trusted the . And with luck—and a deathly grip—they made the crossing in one piece.
“The Grey-Eyed Maiden,” Phoebe said once they’d collapsed onto a flat rock to catch their breath and eat. “That’s whose sanctuary this is.”
Alena froze, a bite of bread halfway to her mouth. “She sent you to me?”
Phoebe nodded. “Yes. She’s guided Omega warriors before, or so she told me, and now she wants to guide you. She came to the Amazons for help. And when I found out who your mother was, I agreed.”
That was all Phoebe offered. No more answers, no more time to rest. She rose and moved on, and Alena, still reeling, followed in silence.
By dusk, they reached the summit.
The sky stretched wide above them, painted in brilliant pinks and golds as the sun dipped low. On a small plateau, stone huts clustered like forgotten relics. A dozen priestesses moved quietly among goats, their robes fluttering in the mountain wind.
One of the older women greeted them with a smile and led them to a modest hut. Inside were straw beds layered in fur, and a warm meal that smelled faintly of herbs and ash.
Alena ate, barely tasting the food, exhaustion dragging at her limbs. But when she lay down, sleep refused to come. San and Kaixo haunted her thoughts—their absence gnawed at her, filling her with unease. What if they were in danger? What if she never saw them again?
And then, without fail, her mind drifted to Leukos.
She dreamed of him that night—his brow furrowed and dark eyes blazing.
Because she isn’t who I want.
He had meant her. He had chosen her. And still, they had parted.
A hollow ache bloomed in her chest, the weight of his confession pressing down. But she forced herself to push it away. She had made her choice. She was here for a reason, to understand what she had become.
Leukos was in Tiryns, with Queen Charis. Duty had pulled them in opposite directions.
Their story had never been meant to last.
Time would dull the pain, and slowly, inevitably, she would forget about the Megarian prince who’d stolen her heart.
Now she would throw herself into the path ahead: into training with Phoebe and becoming the Omega. But first, she needed answers.
As the first light of dawn brushed the mountaintop, Alena slipped out of the hut.
The sanctuary was still and quiet, the cold air biting her skin as she wandered past stone huts and grazing goats.
A larger structure stood apart from the others, built from darker stone and partially sunken into the slope.
After a moment’s hesitation, she approached it, pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped into cool, shadowed silence.
Inside, the space opened into a grotto. At the far end, a stone altar was draped in wildflowers. Before it, a fire burned low in a circular pit, ringed by worn stones. The flickering light danced across the damp walls.