Chapter 30 #2
The weight of his words churned a storm inside her, one she wasn’t ready to face.
The intensity in his stare wasn’t just desire—it was reverence, as if she were the centre of his world, a goddess in her own right.
It thrilled her. It terrified her. Because not even Dorias had ever looked at her like that.
And yet, no matter how much she was affected by Nik, her loyalty belonged to Dorias. The legate held her heart, and nothing would change that.
Katell pulled back sharply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nik’s expression shuttered, and a tightness seized her chest. Before either of them could speak again, the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the charged silence, and Nik stepped away. The sudden distance gave her room to breathe—though her pulse still hammered in her throat.
The door creaked open, and Alena appeared in the dim light, her brow furrowed, her expression steeled with a determination Katell knew all too well.
Aside from the unusual pallor of her face, she appeared unharmed—no cuts, no bruises—only a relentless resolve that made it clear she was on a mission.
“You need to leave,” Alena said, turning to Katell.
“Leave?” Katell lifted her bound wrists. “How?”
“We’re breaking you out,” Alena replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re sending you back to the Twelfth.”
Katell blinked, stunned.
Nik frowned. “Alena, don’t be rash. The Tirynthians are our allies, and Katell is their prisoner. I know you want to help, but—”
“They want to execute her,” Alena snapped.
Katell’s breath caught. Execute her?
Nik’s usual calm fractured, replaced by cold fury. “They what?”
“I overheard the council,” Alena said.
Nik raised an eyebrow. “You were supposed to be resting.”
“I was. But I sent one of the wolves to spy in the gardens.” She brushed off his concern with a flick of her hand. “Never mind that. The Twelfth gave the queen an ultimatum—return Kat, or they’ll slaughter every village from here to Argos.”
A mix of disbelief and rage surged through Katell. “By the Moon…” Her fists clenched as she fought to keep her anger from spilling over. Such cruelty had Tarchun written all over it. She would throttle him the next time they met.
“The council doesn’t want to give you back,” Alena continued, her tone grim. “They think you’re too dangerous. They’d rather kill you than let you go.”
The gravity of the situation settled over them, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.
Nik’s jaw tightened. “What do you need me to do?”
“The guard with the key to her manacles is patrolling the gardens, on the far side of the orchard.” Alena’s eyes gleamed, sharp and deliberate. “He’s alone.”
Nik narrowed his gaze. “How do you know that?”
“The wolves tracked him,” she replied without missing a beat. “Take his keys, but make sure no one sees you.”
Nik ran his tongue over his teeth, weighing her words, then gave a sharp nod. “All right. What about the two guards posted outside?”
Alena hesitated, and Katell chimed in. “Knock them out on your way back, and we’ll hide them in here. The guard change isn’t until morning—no one will notice.”
He nodded once more and slipped out, leaving the sisters in taut silence.
By now, night had fully settled, shadows stretching long across the walls. The palace’s usual bustle had quieted, broken only by the faint chirping of insects outside, amplifying the tension in the room.
Alena lowered herself onto the stool, and Katell studied her, noting the subtle changes.
The last time they’d met at the hillfort, Alena had dressed like a warrior, sword in hand and magic at her command—yet she’d still looked afraid.
Now that fragility was gone, replaced by a hardened resolve Katell had never seen before.
Her gaze lingered on the golden Mark glowing faintly on the back of Alena’s left hand, a Koine letter shimmering in the candlelight. Had it been there last summer? She couldn’t remember.
“What’s that?” she asked, unable to keep the curiosity from her voice.
Alena glanced at her hand, then held it out for Katell to see. “The Mark of the Omega.”
“Omega?” Katell echoed. The name meant nothing to her.
“If we had more time, I would explain,” Alena said, a trace of sorrow in her tone. “I would have told you everything.”
Katell frowned, the weight of those words sinking in. She had changed since last summer—hardened by her time with the Sixth—but it was clear Alena had undergone her own transformation. The sister she had once protected wasn’t the same anymore. The realisation left a hollow ache in its wake.
“Why are you doing this?” Katell asked at last, cutting through the heavy silence. “You’re letting me go, knowing I could run straight back to the legions and report what I’ve seen. I could help the Rasennans infiltrate the city—”
Alena stepped forward, her boots scuffing the worn floor.
“No, you won’t,” she said flatly. “You’re going to Dodona to save our people.
You’re their only hope.” Her hands curled into fists.
“Once the queen discovers I helped you escape, she won’t hear my petition.
So I’ll stay here and protect the villages from the Twelfth. ”
Katell’s heart clenched as she wrestled with her emotions. “If what you say is true, then I’ll go. For Leywani.” She drew a shallow breath, her attention shifting to the darkening sky. “But the others… they’re not my problem. They exiled us, Alena. You heard Scylas—what he called me—”
“You put them there!” Alena shot back.
Katell bristled. “That’s still to be verified.” Dorias wouldn’t betray her. He couldn’t. There had to be another explanation—there had to be.
“Fine,” Alena said coldly. “Then go to Dodona and see for yourself. But if you don’t help them—if you don’t free them from the horrors they’re enduring—then you’re not the sister I thought you were.”
Her words cut deeper than Katell expected. No one in the Sixth had dared speak to her like that in a long time. The defiance in her sister’s voice struck a nerve.
“You’re right,” Katell murmured, her tone dropping to a threat. “We don’t know each other anymore. And you’re being awfully trusting, Alena.” She stepped forward, the chain on her manacles clinking against her wrist. “I could knock you out and leave without your help.”
A sudden gust rushed through the narrow window, scattering dust in the torchlight and whipping at Alena’s cloak.
Alena squared her shoulders. “I’d like to see you try.”
The air thickened with magic, heavy and oppressive like the breathless stillness before a storm. Katell’s muscles tensed, but not from fear. She frowned, trying to understand.
Alena’s Gift was her bond with the wolves—yet now she was wielding wind as well? More than one Gift was rare; only Dorias possessed such power. Her gaze flicked to the Omega symbol on Alena’s hand, and she couldn’t shake the feeling it was the source.
Unease pressed against her ribs, mingling with an unexpected swell of pride. “Fine, that’s enough,” she muttered, the fight draining from her. “Help me with my armour.”
For a beat, neither sister moved, the tension lingering. Then Katell grabbed the black leather cuirass, and Alena stepped forward, the winds calming as she did.
Once the shoulder straps were secured, Alena’s fingers lingered on the worn leather. “Do you realise your armour is laced with heavy magic?” she said quietly. “I can feel it just standing near it.”
Katell nodded, Dorias’ words echoing in her mind. “Protective spells woven into the leather.”
Alena looked like she wanted to say more, but the moment shattered with muffled shouting in the corridor, followed by a heavy thud. The door burst open, and Nik stumbled inside, dragging an unconscious guard by the shoulders, his breath ragged from exertion.
“Alena, catch,” he called, tossing a leather pouch her way.
She snatched it midair, then dropped to her knees to unlock the chain at Katell’s ankle, while Nik hauled the guards inside with urgent efficiency.
Once Alena freed the ankle chain, she turned to the burnished gold manacles binding Katell’s wrists.
As soon as the cuffs clicked open, magic surged back into Katell like a dam bursting, the rush almost overwhelming.
It was as if a boulder had been lifted from her chest, her power flowing freely once more.
She caught the second manacle as it slipped from her wrist and crushed it in her palm, the metal crumpling like paper. “Fucking dampeners,” she growled. She never wanted to see one of those cursed things again.
Alena’s eyes flicked from the mangled manacle to her sister’s clenched fist, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I see your temper hasn’t changed.”
“And you’re still too clever for your own good,” Katell shot back, her words tinged with fondness despite her scowl.
Alena’s smile widened, and despite herself, warmth flickered in Katell’s chest, her lips twitching faintly. For a heartbeat, they were just two sisters again, united as they once had been in the Freefolk Lands.
A pang of nostalgia twisted through her, heavy with the bittersweet weight of memory. Before the arena. Before the slavers. Before fate had torn them apart.
Nik’s voice sliced through the quiet, sharp with urgency. “I know a safe path to one of the smaller gates.” He snatched a torch from a nearby sconce, its flames casting stark shadows across his determined face. “We don’t have long before someone finds us. Let’s move.”