Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ALENA
Alena was about ready to murder someone. Quite literally.
She, Phoebe, Kaixo, the horses and wolves had crossed the Grey-Eyed Maiden’s barrier with shocking ease.
They’d slipped past the Rasennan legion camped around the city, finding a path along a rocky cliffside stretch, and the barrier had yielded without so much as a flicker of resistance.
By the time Rasennan scouts had spotted them, it was far too late to stop them.
From then on, they’d been treated like lepers. Drums beat a constant rhythm through the city while people barricaded themselves indoors, as if a vicious army had breached the walls.
Apparently, she was the enemy.
“You said Tiryns welcomed all Amazons,” she muttered, casting a dark look at Phoebe.
Phoebe met her glare with infuriating calm, her posture relaxed while Kaixo, trailing behind, gawked openly at the sandstone city. “Had you waited just one day,” she said in that maddeningly even tone, “I could have sent word to the palace. Instead, we’re about to be greeted by a wall of spears.”
Kaixo didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. His wide eyes drank in the marble statues and fountains decorating every street corner.
One more day was one day too many. Katell was imprisoned somewhere in the city, and while anger still lingered, fear had overtaken it. Who knew what the Tirynthians planned for her?
Leukos and Nik might be trying to intervene, but the thought brought little comfort. Thinking of Leukos always brought a fresh ache to her chest.
That pain only deepened when they reached the inner gates.
“The palace gates are locked for the royal wedding,” the captain said, arms folded, face expressionless. “Three days. No exceptions.”
If one day had been too much, three was out of the question.
“I’m here with an ,” Alena pressed. “We’ve been sent by the Grey-Eyed Maiden herself to speak with the queen.”
“Is that so?” Phoebe murmured, clearly amused.
Alena ignored her. “Time is of the essence. We need to get inside.”
The guards exchanged uncertain glances but still blocked her way.
It hadn’t taken much. Just half a dozen men stood at the gate. With Phoebe, Alena, and the wolves, forcing their way through had been almost effortless.
They’d galloped up the sandy path towards the palace. Archers loosed their arrows from the walls, but Alena swept her arm, summoning the South Wind’s Gift. A slicing gust scattered the arrows harmlessly.
“Why are they attacking?” she snapped, reining in her horse just short of the gates. “We’re not enemies!”
“If you’d only given it a day,“ Phoebe repeated, exasperatingly calm, “we’d have been welcomed with open arms.”
Alena highly doubted that. “My sister might not have a day.”
Phoebe tilted her head, appraising her in that annoying way of hers. “Are you making haste for your sister—or to stop a wedding?”
The words lit a fresh spark of anger. “Leukos’ parents made a vow before the gods.
Even if we stopped the wedding today, it would only be delayed.
My sister might be suffering right now. One day can make all the difference!
” Her throat tightened. “If you’d arrived a day later when we met, I could have given the Achaeans a proper goodbye.
If we’d left the Maiden’s sanctuary a day sooner, maybe we’d have reached Dodona in time to save San! ”
She hadn’t meant to say her name aloud. Thankfully, Kaixo’s horse was a few paces behind still and the boy was too enchanted by a weather-worn statue of the Huntress, bow drawn mid-strike and encircled by her nymphs, to notice.
Phoebe’s mouth snapped shut For once, she looked at a loss. “You’re right. I apologise. We shouldn’t wait.” She gestured to the gates. “They’re sealed shut at the start of the wedding celebrations. Once the priests summon the Twelve to bless the marriage, the gates are locked—”
“In good faith, as a sign of respect and hospitality,” Alena cut in. “I know, I read about it in—”
“Huntress save me,” Phoebe groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If you say ‘I read about it in a scroll’ one more time, I’ll throw you over the palace walls myself.”
Kaixo snorted, and despite the pressure bearing down, Alena couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her mouth.
Phoebe levelled her with a look. “What’s your plan?”
Alena eyed the gate. “I’ll use the South Wind’s Gift. If I could whip up a gale strong enough to move that boulder the other day, I can blast these gates. You stay here with Kaixo and the horses. I’ll get them open.”
“Fine,” Phoebe muttered with a long-suffering sigh. “But at least try to show them your Omega Mark. One of those buffoons might be educated enough to recognise it.”
Another volley of arrows rained down.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Alena gritted out. “Keep Kaixo safe.”
She strode towards the gates, heat rising with every step. The air thickened—hot, sticky, crackling with pressure. Wind coiled at her feet, an impatient beast growing with each heartbeat until it whipped into a whirlwind, scattering the next wave of arrows like dust.
She raised her left hand high, the golden Omega Mark flashing in the sunlight.
But the guards didn’t flinch. Didn’t even pause.
Her patience snapped.
Magic surged up from her gut, a flood breaking loose. With a sharp sweep of her arm, she unleashed a storm.
The blast hit the gates with a thunderous crack, shaking the stone walls and throwing up a thick cloud of dust. The doors burst open, and for a moment she just stood there, breathing hard, a fierce bloom of satisfaction curling in her chest.
The plan had worked perfectly.
Now, with the gates wide open and the three wolves padding close at her heels, Alena stepped forward and called for her sister.
No one answered.
The courtyard stretched ahead, eerily silent. Sandstone walls rose around her, two marble fountains bubbled softly, and a grand staircase climbed in clean symmetry.
At its centre stood the woman who could only be the queen—draped in a flowing saffron veil, a golden crown gleaming atop her dark coiled hair.
Her court clustered around her in stunned disarray, a blur of silks and jewels, all eyes fixed on Alena.
Shock etched every face. And beneath it… perhaps awe.
Alena barely registered them.
Because closer—partially obscured by drifting dust, standing amid the splintered remains of the gates—was Leukos.
Her heart stuttered.
She’d imagined this moment a thousand times, and still, the sight of him knocked the air from her lungs.
He wore ceremonial finery, all gilded edges and Tirynthian amber, looking so impossibly regal she almost didn’t recognise him.
The colours were wrong—too warm, a stark contrast to his usual Megarian blue.
Leukos was ice personified—his smooth, controlled exterior masking a lethal power within.
The Tirynthian amber clashed against his hair, dark as the winter’s longest night.
He stepped forward, his intense gaze fixed on her, those dark eyes flecked with shards of ice-blue that had haunted her dreams for months.
The sight stirred a deep ache, and memories surged—standing on the mountain, screaming his name into the wind—it all came rushing back.
For so many nights she’d longed to see him, and now, standing before him, an overwhelming rush of emotion threatened to undo her.
The relief in Leukos’ eyes was unmistakable.
He drank her in, gaze sweeping over her riding leathers, the braid down her back, the short sword strapped to her waist. Every detail seemed to soothe something frayed beneath his composure.
The flicker of emotion across his features told her everything she needed to know.
He had missed her. Just as fiercely as she’d missed him.
But then something glinted above his brow. She took in the circlet of gold woven through his tousled hair—like a king.
Suddenly, everything stopped. Her heart plummeted, cold and heavy.
Leukos was married.
She was too late.
Across the courtyard, Leukos’ expression shifted the instant he saw her face fall. His brow furrowed, alarm sparking in his eyes as he stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Alena—”
But the world lurched.
The ground shook violently. Gasps turned to screams as members of the court staggered, clutching one another, struggling to remain upright. At the top of the grand staircase, a marble statue toppled, crashing to the ground.
A sharp voice sliced through the chaos. “What have you done, foolish girl?” A man in flowing amber robes stormed down the steps, his face contorted in rage. “You disrupted the ceremony before the vows! You’ve angered the gods!”
So Leukos wasn’t married yet. Relief surged through her, as sudden as a gasp of air after drowning—but it didn’t last.
The nearby fountain—once a gentle trickle beneath a statue of the Sea God and his nymphs—suddenly roared to life. Water erupted in violent waves, overflowing the basin in spirals. What had been serene and decorative now twisted into something wild and alive.
Dread shot through her.
She sent the wolves scurrying back towards Phoebe at the gate with a quick, wordless command.
The magic in the air, potent and furious, chilled her to the bone.
Guards stumbled back from the fountain, blades half-drawn, fear plain on their faces.
The queen descended a few steps, eyes fixed on the chaos, disbelief stiffening her expression. Her ceremonial robes shimmered with threads of gold, catching the light. She looked less like a ruler and more like a beautiful offering—a sacrifice laid at the feet of angry gods.
“Charis!” a voice barked.
A high-ranking guard—so familiar Alena thought for a heartbeat it was Nik—rushed to the queen’s side and seized her arm, pulling her back.
But it wasn’t the queen who held Alena’s gaze.
It was the dark-haired woman lounging casually on the lip of the opposite fountain, untouched by panic.