Chapter 28 #2
Theo sighed and gestured towards the frozen fountain.
Crystals of ice glinted in the dim light, creeping like invasive frost over the cracked stone.
“You might not have a choice. The Emperor is preparing for war in the Western Lands, and we’ll need to return soon.
If you haven’t gained control of your Gift by then, the tribes might turn us away.
They won’t risk an alliance with someone who can’t control his own Gift. ”
Leukos glanced back at the fountain, the memory of the servant’s frozen hand surging up. A single misstep like that among the tribes could cost them everything.
“If you worked with Alena,” Theo said, stepping closer, “if you told her the truth, then she could help you. You might even be able to share magic. Together, you’d be a formidable force—powerful enough to defeat Tarquinius.”
“The Omega will defeat Tarquinius,” Leukos corrected, his tone resolute. “And I’ll help her however I can. Always. Whatever she needs from me, I’ll give freely.”
Theo’s brow lifted—a silent acknowledgement that Leukos had made his point. Then his features softened, and he placed a firm hand on Leukos’ cloaked shoulder. “Don’t forget to rest. Your magic will thank you for it.”
He didn’t reply, his jaw tight as Theo’s hand fell away. Without another word, Theo left, his figure soon fading into flickering torchlight and gathering shadows.
Leukos lingered, the silence of the courtyard pressing in. All winter he’d hoped for Alena’s return, imagined her stepping through the gates and everything feeling whole again.
But now that she was here, fear consumed him. Fear of his Gift turning into a threat to her. Without control, his touch could kill her. And the bond they might share only made the danger more acute.
Soulmates or not, he would keep Alena safe—from their enemies, and from himself.
He resumed his training, focusing on a bush of peonies, trying to channel his magic into freezing the blossoms one petal at a time. That was when he sensed a presence behind him.
Leukos turned and found Alena watching from the colonnaded corridor. The moment their gazes met, he had a hard time remembering how to breathe, and the ice-blue glow in his hands flickered and died.
She crossed into the courtyard, torchlight at her back casting threads of gold through her auburn hair.
Loose curls cascaded in soft waves, catching the light with every step.
The mother-of-pearl armour was gone, replaced by a muted green chiton that flowed around her like water, skimming her figure with every step.
An olive cloak draped from her shoulder, its folds hugging the gentle curves of her body.
Moonlight caressed her skin, softening the delicate lines of her throat, but it was the gleam of her eyes in the night that held him captive.
“You were following my advice,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice, as though she hadn’t expected him to listen.
Leukos swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “If it worked for you, I’m willing to try. Even if the advice came from the ,” he added, a touch bitterly.
He ignored her reproachful look. He’d sooner kiss the North Wind’s feet than forget how the had played him.
As Alena moved past, her familiar scent enveloped him—warm, floral, edged with fig. The wave of longing that followed nearly undid him. His fingers twitched at his side, aching to pull her close.
He wanted to kiss her, the need burning hotter than ever.
To feel her warmth against him, to bury his face in the curve of her neck and drown in the soft scent of her skin.
But the ice shattered at his feet, glittering like broken glass, reminded him of the danger he carried.
His desire ebbed beneath the cold weight of restraint.
She stopped by the peonies, leaning in to study the half-frozen blossoms, unaware of the storm she stirred within him. “Did you freeze them one petal at a time?”
“Tried to,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
He’d managed to freeze one or two outer petals with precision, but then the whole bloom had succumbed, encased in a block of ice. He nudged the ruined flowers littering the ground with his sandal.
Alena straightened, giving him a thoughtful look. “What if the problem is with your hands? Have you tried touching others… in some other way?”
Her suggestion caught him off guard, and he let out a dry, humourless chuckle. “Well, I did kick Nik in the chest with my bare foot during a spar. Annoyingly, he didn’t freeze.”
“What about your face?” she blurted before she could stop herself.
It wasn’t the first time her curiosity had gotten the better of her, but this question lingered, unexpected and intimate.
Leukos arched an eyebrow. “My face? You mean have I touched someone with my chin or nose?” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Or do you mean my lips?”
The words left his mouth like a challenge, layered with something deeper—an unspoken desire he could no longer hide. “What are you really asking me, Alena?”
He held her gaze, waiting, daring her to respond. A deep blush bloomed across her cheeks, visible even in the moonlight.
“Nothing,” she mumbled, turning her back on him. “Forget I asked.”
But he couldn’t let her sidestep his question. He stepped forward, closing the distance until her warmth reached him through the night air, her back a breath away from his chest.
Her body tensed at his nearness, but she didn’t move away, and that small detail sent fire rushing through his veins.
“Because if you want to know if I’ve kissed anyone since you”—he was proud of himself for sounding so calm despite the tumult inside—“then the answer is no.”
The words hung in the air, leaving no room for denial, daring her to turn and face him, to acknowledge the connection they both felt. They had been reunited for only a day, yet already the distance of months seemed to collapse, drawing them back into something neither had ever truly let go.
And though his Gift forced him to keep his distance, the need to be near her—just this once—outweighed his fear of losing control.
If she truly is your soulmate, that’s not something you can just push aside.
Damn Theo for always being right.
Leukos leaned in closer, unable to resist the pull any longer.
He needed to know—needed to feel her response, her reaction—if only to prove the pull was not his alone.
He reached out, careful not to startle her, and gently brushed her hair aside.
The soft cascade of auburn slipped through his fingers like silk, baring the delicate skin beneath her ear.
Moonlight glinted off her throat, and he caught the faint hitch of her breath.
She was beautiful, of course—but it was more than that. She was captivating, a force that drew him in against every ounce of reason he had left.
Then, without warning, Alena tilted her head, exposing the soft curve of her neck. It was a subtle gesture, a silent invitation—one that threatened to undo him completely.
War raged inside him—want against fear, longing against the danger his touch carried.
He could hurt her. He knew that.
But in this moment, reason drowned beneath the simple, aching need to be near her.
“You’ve haunted my dreams,” he murmured, “and consumed my every waking thought.”
Words he’d kept buried for far too long surfaced like an intimate confession.
“Your smile, your heart, your lips…” His hands found her hips, his touch deliberate but controlled, careful not to make direct contact with her skin.
He drew her closer, blood heating within him, heartbeat thundering in his ears.
“If I could touch you right now, I’d show you exactly how much you mean to me. ”
He spun her around, and her eyes locked onto his, filled with an unmistakable trust that mirrored the desire crackling between them. Her body melted against his, the warmth of her presence flooding his senses with a fierce longing.
Slowly, she lifted her hand to his face, and he fought to steady the wild flow of magic in his veins. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw with tentative softness. The touch, innocent as it was, ignited something deep within him—a spark that threatened to consume them both.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Alena…” he warned, the whisper a low rumble between them.
His Gift surged, straining against his control, but he forced it back, refusing to yield.
Their closeness was dangerous, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.
Not yet.
Not when she was looking at him like that—lips parted, as if already halfway to meeting him.
He must have lost his mind, because every part of him screamed to claim her lips and taste her again.
Then her hand pressed against his chest, and warmth bled through the fabric of his dark blue tunic. She had to feel it—the frantic rhythm of his heart beneath her palm.
Leukos leaned in, so close the tip of his nose brushed along her jawline. She shivered beneath the ghost of his touch. His breath came shallow, every nerve aflame with the need to give in and kiss her.
But just as he was about to close the distance, something inside him snapped. The magic he’d fought so hard to contain broke free with a sudden surge.
And the air between them froze.