Chapter 26 #2
“Really?” He gave her a mock-stern look. “Because I’ve seen you scoop food straight out of a pot with your fingers like some famished Harpy when you’re hungry. You even licked them clean after.”
Her face burned. “You weren’t supposed to notice that.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he said, lips curving as he poured her water. “I also noticed your stomach growled three times on the way here.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but his smile only widened.
“Eat, Alena,” he urged, placing the cup beside her plate. “I spend more time around soldiers than nobles these days. I won’t be scandalised, I promise.”
Alena did as she was told, grabbing the bread and dunking it into the stew before shoving the dripping piece into her mouth with a soft groan of satisfaction.
Leukos went very still.
For a moment, his fingers curled tighter around the pitcher, his jaw tightening. Then he cleared his throat and busied himself with pouring his own drink before sitting down across from her.
The amused glint in his eye dimmed, replaced by something quieter. Controlled. He didn’t look at her again for a while as she ate.
When she was nearly finished with her soup, Leukos spoke at last. “I went to see the North Wind.”
She froze mid-bite, blinking. “You did?” The idea of Leukos, who rarely spared the gods a kind word, seeking out his patron deity on purpose, was jarring. “Why?”
His expression was unreadable. “My magic was fading. I had no choice.”
“Let me guess,” Alena said between bites, recalling her own encounters with the gods. “He was angry because you never offered a prayer or sacrifice.”
“Angry barely covers it,” Leukos muttered, his face darkening. “But yes, he demanded a sacrifice if I wanted more power.”
A chill edged into her spine. “What kind of sacrifice?”
He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming a jagged rhythm on the wooden armrest. “He demanded my soul as payment.”
Alena froze, spoon halfway to her lips. “Your soul?” Her mind raced, trying to grasp the meaning of what he’d just said. She’d never heard of such a thing before. “What does that even mean?”
“Gods can bind a mortal’s soul to them,” he said, bitterness lacing his voice. “It makes you immortal. But you’re no longer free. You exist to serve the god’s will. Forever.”
The spoon slipped from Alena’s hand and clattered against her plate. Her appetite vanished. “Leukos… tell me you didn’t—”
“I didn’t.” His eyes met hers, grim. “But Nik did.”
The stew in her stomach turned to lead. “Nik?” she whispered. “He offered his soul?”
Leukos nodded, jaw tight. “Yes. That’s why he has a new Mark on his arm.”
She could hardly believe it. “What will happen to him?”
“Once the war is over, the North Wind will collect Nik’s soul.
” Leukos drew a steady breath. “He could use Nik for anything—to kill, to torture, or worse. And over time, Nik will change. He won’t be mortal or divine.
He won’t feel, or eat, or sleep. He’ll be a ghost, fading slowly until even his name is forgotten. ”
The terrible fate he described knocked all thought from her mind. “Leukos…”
“I know.” He reached for his cup and took a slow drink, his grip so tight his knuckles blanched.
“He did it for me. To protect me. To make up for—” He stopped himself, jaw flexing.
“I never thought I could forgive him for the massacre. But this? This is too far. I didn’t want him to pay this price. ”
Alena clutched the table edge, grounding herself. “Then we have to stop it.”
“And we will,” Leukos agreed. “We won’t let him be taken. The North Wind isn’t a benevolent god. He’d make Nik pay for his part in the massacre…”
His words faded into silence.
A cold spike of dread slid down Alena’s spine. She swallowed hard, forcing down the rising tide of fear. “What about your Gift?”
“It returned,” he said with a huff, anger flashing in his eyes. “Tenfold, a hundredfold—I don’t know. But it’s out of control. If I touch another person, they freeze. Objects, too, if I’m not focused.”
So Danaos hadn’t lied.
The truth landed like a punch to her ribs. Worse than she’d imagined. But she refused to let him suffer alone. Not when Leukos looked like he was unravelling. Beneath the steel in his tone, his eyes betrayed the torment gnawing at him.
The North Wind had turned his Gift into a curse.
She would not let him carry this alone. He needed her, and no matter how dangerous, she would find a way to help.
“What about your mother’s potion?” she asked, grasping for anything that might bring relief. “It helped me when I received my Gift from the Huntress.”
Leukos shook his head, looking away. He raked a hand through his dark hair in a rare, unguarded display of frustration. “Nothing has worked so far. I… I don’t know what to do.”
That confession cracked something in her.
When she’d first arrived, he’d seemed so composed, so sure of himself—but it had all been a mask. As leader of the rebellion, he had no choice but to appear unshakable. But beneath that careful facade, he was coming undone.
Alena didn’t hesitate.
Pushing back her chair, she rose and crossed the space between them. Her heart pounded, but her steps were sure.
She met his gaze and extended her hand. “Show me.”
Leukos stared at her palm as if it were a dagger aimed at his chest. “What are you doing?” His voice was taut, every word wound tight.
“If you want my help, I need to understand what’s going on,” Alena said. “The Cyprian told me only I could help you, so maybe I’ll think of something you haven’t. She nudged her hand closer. “But first—show me. Touch my hand.”
He shoved his chair back, the legs scraping against stone as he stood. “No. It’s dangerous. We should call for a healer first.”
Alena caught the flicker of fear in his eyes. Something worse had happened. He wasn’t just worried—he was terrified of hurting her.
Slowly, she lowered her hand. “All right,” she said gently. “Then let’s try something else.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut in quickly. “It’s something Phoebe taught me when I struggled with my magic. It might help you, too. Just follow my lead.”
His dark eyes searched hers, his whole body tense, as though ready to bolt. Yet beneath the doubt, she saw trust—trust he gave her despite his fear.
She stepped back to give him space. “For this to work, you need to close your eyes. Focus on your breathing. Let everything else fade away.”
She demonstrated, inhaling deeply, exhaling slow and steady. For a moment, Leukos hesitated—rigid, wary—but then, with a long exhale, he closed his eyes.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “Keep them closed. Turn your focus inwards. Feel your magic—where it rests, how it moves. Let it flow through your body.”
His brow furrowed, lips pressed together in concentration.
“Now,” she continued softly, “guide it into your right leg. From your hip… down to your toes. Not too fast. Just steady, like water filling a cup.”
A thin sheen of frost spread beneath his right foot, threading across the stone.
Alena’s heart lifted. There was still control in him, buried beneath the fear and chaos.
“Good,” she said with quiet encouragement. “Don’t forget to breathe. Keep the flow in the lower half of your body. Try both legs now.”
His brow eased slightly, though tension still clung to his posture. His magic obeyed, the frost confined to his lower half.
“Now lift your hand,” she whispered, stepping closer. “Don’t think about it—just concentrate on controlling the flow in your legs.”
She brought a single finger to his palm.
For several moments, nothing happened.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “You’re doing it. Breathe and stay in control.”
Her fingertip rested against his calloused skin, warm where she’d expected cold. Hope bloomed in her chest, and she bit back a grin.
It was working.
Encouraged, she traced her finger along the centre of his palm.
Leukos sucked in a sharp breath.
In the next instant, a shock of cold shot through her, ice surging over her finger. Pain flared, but she bit back a hiss, shaking out her hand behind her back just as Leukos opened his eyes in alarm.
She managed a crooked, sheepish smile. “Sorry. I should’ve warned you before pushing further.”
He didn’t answer. His gaze locked onto hers, unblinking, almost reverent. Something in his expression made her breath falter. She’d nearly forgotten how handsome he was—with eyes that seemed to see all the way through her.
The air between them felt impossibly thin, stretched taut with want and restraint.
They were standing too close, breaths almost mingling, and still—neither stepped away.
Alena could feel the warmth of him, even as the cold clung to her finger. She ached to close the distance, to lean into him and forget, just for a moment, the danger pressing in on all sides. But his magic made that impossible.
“I’m fine,” she said at last. “You didn’t hurt me.”
Something flickered in his gaze—raw and fleeting—but then it was gone.
He looked away, retreating behind the familiar mask of control. “I think that’s enough practice for one day.”
Alena frowned. “Leukos, it worked! You were controlling it. We just need to keep try—”
“No.” The word came sharp, like a door slamming shut. His jaw tightened, and he stepped back again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her chest twisted at the way he said it—like it was inevitable, like he’d already accepted it. “Leukos, you won’t—”
“Thank you for your help, but I’ll train alone.” His tone was dismissive, and before she could argue, he was already halfway to the door. “Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”
He was gone before she could find the words to stop him.
She sank back into her chair, her appetite gone, the food before her cold and uninviting.
Her gaze fell to her finger, frostbitten and pale, the ice creeping up towards her knuckle.
With a quiet sigh, she pushed away from the table and left to find a healer.