Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LEUKOS
Leukos’ heart dropped.
Ice, sharp and biting, bloomed across Alena’s cheek where his touch should have been warm. She flinched, recoiling with a strangled gasp.
“Alena!” Her name tore from his throat as she brought a trembling hand to her frozen skin. The pain in her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, panic surging through him.
She tried to speak, but only a broken whimper slipped out before her knees buckled.
“Alena!” Leukos yanked the cloak from his shoulders, wrapped it around her, and swept her into his arms. He held her tight, willing his warmth to drive back the frost.
His mind raced, his heartbeat a deafening drum. He’d seen what his magic could do—how it froze deeper than flesh, turning veins into brittle pathways of ice. If it reached the bone, it could be fatal. Her body wouldn’t withstand it.
Though the frost wasn’t visibly spreading, the moonlight was too dim to trust. Every moment felt like an eternity. He had to find a Gifted healer—fast.
“Hold on.” Her faint shivers cut through him, each one a knife twisting deeper. “I’ll get you help. Just hold on.”
He strode down the colonnaded corridor, sandals striking hard against the marble. When he reached the Megarian quarters, he didn’t hesitate—he kicked open Nik’s door and rushed inside.
Flickering candlelight cast jagged shadows across the room, just enough to catch the sheen of frost creeping up Nik’s arm.
Nik bolted upright, clutching his forearm, his features tight with pain. The golden circle of the Messenger’s Mark gleamed faintly on his chest. “Leukos, what happened?”
“Help me!” Leukos’ voice cracked. Alena whimpered in his arms, pale against the dark blue cloak.
Nik sprang from the bed, dragging on his tunic. The moment he saw her, his face blanched. “Fuck—what happened?”
“Find a Gifted healer, quickly!” Leukos urged. If the ice had reached her veins—her bones, her heart—
Nik didn’t waste another word. He shot out of the room, moving faster than Leukos had ever seen.
Left alone with Alena, Leukos laid her carefully on the bed, his gut twisting at the sight of her lashes clumped with tears, her skin far too pale. Agony etched her face like a visceral blow to his own body.
Helplessness crashed over him. He ached to pull her into his arms, but fear held him back; he couldn’t risk inflicting more pain.
Instead, he brought a candle closer. Warm light danced across her face, revealing the icy patch along her jaw.
“The ice isn’t spreading,” he whispered, trying to mask his underlying panic. “Try not to move.”
Her lips pressed tight, body coiled with tension. Every shallow breath laced with pain. A tear slid down her cheek, catching the flame’s glow. “It hurts…”
Leukos felt his insides shred. The cold must be burrowing deeper.
“I know, love,” he said before he could stop himself. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even let himself think it, but nothing else felt right.
He wrapped his hand over hers, keeping the cloak as a barrier. She clutched back, her trembling fingers sealing the trust between them, and his chest tightened at the simple act. “Nik will be here soon,” he promised. “Just hold on for me. A little longer. Please, Alena.”
She quivered beneath his touch, fragile and fading—and in that moment, the truth struck with breathtaking clarity.
Gods.
He loved her.
He loved her so much it terrified him.
How could he ever have thought to let her go in the name of duty?
If she survived this night, he swore he’d do better.
He would train until exhaustion claimed him, push his wild magic into submission.
He would keep his distance, even if it shattered him.
Because the thought of seeing this agony on her face again was unbearable.
If protecting her meant breaking his own heart, then so be it. He would love her silently, from afar. Because she deserved everything—and he deserved nothing.
He whispered reassurances, quiet apologies threaded through every word, brushing his thumb over her covered hand. “You’re strong, Alena. Just a little longer.”
Footsteps thundered closer. Nik burst back into the room with a healer at his side. She rushed to Alena the moment she saw the frost on her jaw, her face taut with worry.
“Out of the way!” she barked.
Leukos stumbled back as her hands swept over Alena with practised urgency, checking her pupils, her pulse, the line of her throat. Two more healers arrived moments later.
“She’s unconscious,” the first healer said, already channelling her power. A soft, radiant light poured from her palms, its warmth cutting against the ice gripping Alena’s body.
Leukos’ chest tightened, panic surging like a tidal wave as he watched her lie motionless, her breaths shallow and faint. His hands clenched at his sides, thoughts racing.
“No,” he said, lurching closer. “She was awake just a moment ago. She was fine—she spoke to me—”
“Prince Leukos,” the healer cut in, her tone leaving no room for argument. “If you want us to save her, you need to leave.”
Disbelief roared through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Leukos.” Nik’s voice came softly from the doorway. “Let them work.”
Leukos’ gaze stayed fixed on Alena’s pale face. How could he walk away now? Not when she looked so fragile, so lifeless. The thought of stepping aside clawed at him, the visceral ache in his chest intensifying.
He turned to Nik, swallowing hard. “What about your arm?”
Nik held it up—the skin clear of frost, only the North Wind’s ice-blue Mark shimmering faintly. “All good.”
Leukos let out a breath, the knot in his chest loosening just a fraction.
The healer bent over Alena, her hands glowing with soft light that pulsed against the creeping frost. “The ice hasn’t reached the bone. We can help her—but only if you let us work.”
The words hit him like a lifeline. For the first time since she collapsed, his lungs filled with air. Shoulders sagging, he raked a trembling hand through his hair and forced himself to step back.
“Please,” he whispered, voice strangled. “Save her.”
He lingered on her face for one more heartbeat, then turned away. The ache of leaving her sliced through him, but with Nik at his side, he stumbled out of the room, his body moving on instinct until he reached his quarters.
Nik closed the door behind them, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on them both. He took a tentative step forward, his brow furrowed. “Leukos, you heard the healer. She’ll be fine.”
But Leukos barely registered the words. Helplessness rose like a tide, threatening to pull him under.
He’d almost killed her.
The realisation crashed over him in waves, suffocating. He’d just found her again—had just begun to understand the depth of his feelings—and he’d almost lost her.
Just like his family.
The thought struck with brutal clarity. The same helplessness, the same crushing weight. He’d lost them all—his mother, his father, Aegeus—because he hadn’t been able to protect them. And now, when the Fates had finally handed him something precious, he’d nearly lost her, too.
The ache in his chest spread like wildfire, consuming him whole.
His gaze fell on the basket of apples the Cyprian had brought for his wedding—its bright colours a stark contrast to the storm building inside him. Without a thought, he shoved it aside. The fruit spilled across the floor, rolling and bouncing in the chaos of his fury.
Fuck the gods and their Gifts!
How dare they let this happen to her? She was their chosen one, the Omega.
And he’d nearly destroyed her with his own hands.
A pulse of raw, violent fury ignited in him. His fists clenched until his knuckles whitened, a flicker of ice-blue magic shimmering over his skin
“Nik,” he growled—harsh, low, the only warning he could give.
Nik’s steady reply came without hesitation. “I’ll be fine.”
That was all the permission Leukos needed.
He let out a roar—raw, desperate, shattered—and his magic exploded outwards in a violent surge. The walls glazed over with frost, the floor fractured beneath creeping ice. It was as if his soul itself had shattered and frozen in endless torment.
Nik stayed pressed against the door, arms crossed, jaw tight. Ice snaked up his bare arm, reaching his neck, but he didn’t flinch, watching Leukos unleash the storm of fury and fear.
At last, Leukos collapsed to his knees at the centre of the room, chest heaving, raw emotion still clawing at him. The cold surrounding him matched the emptiness inside.
Nik’s approaching footsteps crunched across the frozen ground.
Leukos couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes, couldn’t look at anything but the wreckage.
“I can’t lose her, too,” he breathed. “I love her.”
The confession fell from his lips like a desperate prayer.
A surrender.
Nik stepped to his side without a word, the quiet weight of his presence anchoring Leukos when everything inside threatened to collapse. Words weren’t necessary—Nik’s presence alone reminded him he wasn’t facing this alone.
After a long silence, Nik’s voice broke through the stillness.
“I know.”
The next day, Leukos sat rigid at the council table, his leg bouncing beneath him.
His gaze flicked to the council members still milling about, their idle chatter grating on his nerves.
The painted map of Achaea sprawled across the table—its fine details usually captivated him—but not today.
His grip tightened on the armrests of his chair, wanting nothing more than to throttle the councilmen who had summoned him here, disrupting his training.
Theo, seated beside him, cast a wary glance at the thin layer of frost creeping along Leukos’ armrest. Following his friend’s eyes, Leukos bit back a curse.
The icy trail betrayed his lapse in control—a reminder of the wild magic he fought daily to subdue.
He pulled his hand away and draped his cloak over the frost before anyone else noticed.
Only a select few knew of his condition, and he intended to keep it that way.
Finally, the queen cleared her throat, cutting through the indistinct murmur of voices. “If we are all here, then let us begin.”
“We’re missing the Omega,” Philistos remarked, glancing at the empty seat with disapproval.
“She’s resting,” Theo interjected, leaning back in his chair. “She had a long night.”
Alena had woken briefly after the healers saved her from the ice, but she’d been too weak to say much beyond murmuring that the pain was gone. Nik had carried her back to her room, with Leukos following close behind, every step weighted with guilt.
They’d reached her quarters just after dawn, where Phoebe met them at the door, her brow furrowing at the sight of Alena asleep in Nik’s arms. Leukos had felt the weight of her inquisitive stare as he explained what had happened, brushing it off as a training accident.
The hadn’t pressed, though her expression said she didn’t quite believe him.
Since then, Leukos hadn’t gone to see Alena. He’d kept his distance like a coward, clinging to Nik’s quiet assurances that she was healed.
She’d even asked for him.
Of course, she had. Alena, with her boundless compassion, would never blame him.
No—she would forgive him, as she always did.
And that was exactly why he had to stay away.
Her forgiveness would only make him reckless.
If he gave in to the pull between them, he risked killing her for good next time.
He couldn’t trust himself around her—not yet.
Not until he had absolute control over the magic roiling inside him.
“It’s just as well the Omega is absent—this news concerns her sister,” Danaos announced, the weight of his words drawing all eyes to him.
His expression was uncharacteristically grave for a newlywed man.
Whatever he had to share couldn’t be good.
He turned to Charis for permission, and she gave a solemn nod.
“The Twelfth Legion, stationed outside our gates, has issued an ultimatum. We have until tonight to return the Gifted Praefect Viridia, or they will burn every village between here and Argos.”
Outrage erupted around the table.
“What?”
“That’s preposterous!”
“Rasennan citizens live there, too!”
“Silence!” Danaos’ sharp command cut through the clamour.
Leukos exchanged a look with Theo, whose startled expression mirrored his own. The Emperor had besieged Tiryns for years—he wouldn’t throw it all away for Katell. And he would never turn his army against Rasennan citizens; he needed their loyalty to keep his grip on power.
Unless… the legate had taken matters into his own hands.
Tarchun had a reputation for recklessness. This could be his chance to strike at the Tirynthians, whom he hadn’t been able to touch throughout the siege.
“How can we trust them to keep their word if we return her?” Theo asked, voicing Leukos’ thoughts.
“We can’t.” Danaos’ gaze was hard, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “But considering how desperate they are to get their hands on her, it’s clear she’s valuable to them. Under no circumstances can we allow her return.”
The councilmen murmured in agreement, the gravity of the situation settling over the room like a storm cloud.
“Then what do you suggest?” one finally asked, his voice betraying the unease they all felt.
Danaos didn’t hesitate. “That we execute her.”