Chapter 32 #2
Despoina leaned close to Danaos, already trading low, urgent words with the scouts.
Leukos’ attention shifted to Alena. His voice dropped, meant only for her. “Go find the and tell her what happened. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
It was the first time he’d spoken directly to her since the incident. A dozen things rose in her throat—that it wasn’t his fault, that she didn’t fear him—but the words died before they formed. This wasn’t the moment. Bigger battles loomed.
He turned back to Despoina, and Alena took it as her cue to leave. Her steps quickened through the stone corridors, pulse hammering with the weight of what was coming.
When she entered her chambers, she found Phoebe mid-drill, sword flashing in the sunlight while Kaixo and Apollo tussled on the rug nearby. Phoebe’s sharp eyes caught Alena’s grim expression before her blade had even stilled.
“What happened?” she asked, lowering the weapon.
Alena pulled her aside, her voice low and urgent as she explained the smoke on the horizon and the villages under attack. Phoebe’s mouth tightened into a hard line.
“Fucking Rasennans,” she spat, then slid her sword into its sheath and strode off to fetch her armour.
Alena turned to Kaixo. The boy’s gaze flicked between her and Phoebe’s retreating figure, confusion clouding his face. Apollo nudged the wooden spinning top they’d been playing with, but Kaixo didn’t so much as glance at it.
Alena’s heart twisted. She hated leaving him again—hated that each parting felt like a fresh wound—but there was no choice. The boy couldn’t be brought into danger. He would stay here, surrounded by the three wolves. She wasn’t taking any chances with his safety.
She knelt before him, searching for words that wouldn’t worsen his worry. Phoebe returned before she found them, clad in armour, sword belted, shield in hand.
Kaixo’s face fell. He looked up, voice small but edged with hurt. “You’re leaving?”
Alena’s chest tightened. “Something bad has happened,” she explained, forcing calm into her tone. “Phoebe and I need to go, but we’ll be back as soon as we can.”
His face crumpled, eyes bright with unshed tears. “You’re leaving? Again?” He sprang to his feet, the words bursting out like an accusation. “Alena always leaves!”
“Kaixo, wait—”
But he was already running, bare feet silent against the stone. Apollo gave a soft whine and padded after him, leaving Alena on the rug with guilt gnawing at her ribs.
“Leave him be,” Phoebe said briskly, filling waterskins. “He’ll be safe here. Go change—then we eat while we wait.”
Alena slipped into the chain mail vest Damona had given her at the Green Mountains hillfort. It was heavier than the elegant mother-of-pearl armour the Cyprian had Gifted her, but it offered something the other couldn’t—full coverage.
The Cyprian’s armour, though stunning, drew too much attention. Its sleek design clung like a second skin, emphasising every curve, leaving her feeling exposed. Worse, it had refused to answer her summons since the night it vanished.
Irritation prickled as she tightened the chain mail at her waist. Why had the Cyprian given her such an unreliable Gift?
Once dressed, she joined Phoebe at the table. They ate in silence—flatbread torn into pieces, dipped into a fragrant lentil-and-herb paste the locals favoured. Alena forced each bite down, trying not to think of the horrors that awaited them.
A knock broke the tense silence, and a moment later, Leukos appeared—calm as ever, yet every line of him taut with urgency. “Are you ready?”
Alena rose, hand settling on the hilt of her short sword. The familiar weight steadied her. “Yes.”
She crossed the room towards him, but his gaze swept her from head to toe, and his expression hardened. “You need a shield.”
She frowned. “I can’t wield the South Wind’s magic if I’m holding a shield.”
“You won’t wield anything if you’re dead,” Leukos shot back, his words sharp enough to cut.
His bluntness caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to retort, but Phoebe’s flat voice came from the side, “I agree with pretty boy.”
Alena turned to her with an incredulous look, searching for solidarity. But Phoebe’s gaze was as unyielding as stone.
“I don’t need a shield.” Heat burned under Alena’s skin, frustration coiling tighter with every word. “I have the Cyprian’s armour to protect me.”
If it ever answered her call.
“Did you test the armour’s strength?” Leukos asked Phoebe, glancing past Alena as though she weren’t standing there.
“Not yet,” Phoebe replied, her expression tight. “Mother-of-pearl armour…” She gave a short, disbelieving huff. “Only the Cyprian would Gift something so impractical.”
Alena’s cheeks flushed, her fingers tightening on the leather scabbard. “It’s still a Gift,” she muttered.
Leukos studied her in silence, his dark eyes assessing. “Until we test it, I’ll be your shield,” he said. “You’ll stay beside me the entire time, so I can protect you.”
Something twisted in Alena’s gut. The words should have reassured her, but the way he spoke—as if she were a burden—set her teeth on edge. Did he really think she couldn’t protect herself?
Before she could muster a response, Phoebe chimed in, her voice dry as dust. “Oh, how reassuring. The one who’s lost control of his Gift offering to guard her. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Phoebe!” Alena snapped.
But the damage was done. A flicker of hurt crossed Leukos’ face before it shuttered. “You told her?”
Alena’s heart clenched. The accusation in his tone sent guilt washing through her. “She figured it out.”
Leukos’ mouth flattened into a hard line. His gaze snapped to the , sharp enough to draw blood. “I won’t make the same mistake again. Either way, Alena stays with me. Let’s go.”
He didn’t look back as he strode out. Phoebe only rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath before turning back to the table.
But Alena stayed rooted to the spot.
A mistake?
Her heart stuttered, a terrible ache blooming inside. Was that truly what their almost-kiss had been to him—something to regret?
You’ve haunted my dreams and consumed my every waking thought.
The way her pulse had leapt at his nearness, the pull between them, the world gone quiet for one suspended breath… had it meant nothing to him?
She didn’t remember leaving the room, only that her thoughts were still tangled when they stepped into the courtyard.
Two dozen soldiers stood waiting, steel scale armour gleaming in the early light, Tiryns’ amber crest embroidered over leather straps.
A dozen Megarian rebels flanked them, tense and ready, weapons in hand.
Among the ranks stood three elderly women in flowing robes, satchels heavy at their sides. Alena recognised one—the Gifted healer who had once eased the ice from her jaw—and felt a flicker of reassurance.
Close by, Theo hunched over a map with Danaos and Despoina, their heads bent in discussion, while Pelagios passed out swords and shields. Near the horses, Nik moved with brisk precision, checking supplies and cinching saddles.
Alena crossed towards him, the soldiers’ gazes tracking her every step. Even without her wolves, they recognised her. The golden Omega Mark on the back of her hand caught the light, its gleam impossible to miss.
And still, Leukos treated her as though she were fragile. Something to guard, not to trust. The thought smouldered in her chest, threatening to flare, but she forced it down as she reached Nik.
“So,” she said, brushing her fingers along the sleek neck of a grey mare, “you’ve been helping Tiryns train its soldiers?”
Nik glanced up from adjusting a strap. “Yes. After the wedding, Leukos was meant to take over as general and lead them to the Western Lands. We’ve been training them for weeks. But…” His mouth twisted. “I’m not sure Charis will be so cooperative now.”
Alena’s gaze flicked to the soldiers. “If we stop the First Legion, maybe the alliance can still hold.”
“Maybe,” Nik muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. “The men respect Leukos—he’s a natural leader. But Danaos…” He shook his head. “That’ll be the hard sell.”
Before she could answer, Pelagios’ voice rang across the courtyard. “Soldiers, to the horses—move!”
Armour and weapons clinked as the men obeyed, clustering around the mounts. Alena joined the motion, her attention drawn to Danaos and Despoina now standing at opposite ends of the yard. How would the twins use their Gift to move so many at once?
A familiar presence stirred behind her.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” a deep voice murmured.
She turned. Leukos stood close—too close. Heat radiated off him, brushing her skin, mingling with the irritation already smouldering inside.
“I can handle myself,” she replied, her tone cold.
One dark brow lifted, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he made a low, ambiguous sound that slid over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Her breath caught, but she forced herself to keep steady.
Phoebe arrived without warning, striking in her leopard pelt, a circular shield strapped to her back. She raised an eyebrow at Leukos’ proximity before sliding in beside Alena, deliberately forcing him a step back.
Annoyance flickered across his face. Down the line, Nik smothered a laugh with a poorly timed cough.
Then emerald-green light spilled across the stone.
Alena’s gaze snapped to Despoina, kneeling at one end of the courtyard, eyes closed in concentration.
Dark magic poured from her palms, spreading like liquid smoke across the ground.
It swept forward in a perfect arc, meeting a matching half-circle conjured by Danaos at the far end.
The twins’ magic joined, enclosing the soldiers in a glowing dome, the air humming with raw energy. Alena squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth against the crushing pressure, her pulse pounding in her ears.
A firm hand gripped her shoulder, grounding her.
Leukos.
Without thinking, she leaned into him, his presence helping her draw a breath through the chaos.
And then—the pressure vanished.
Alena opened her eyes, blinking at the sudden stillness.
The palace courtyard was gone, and in its place stretched a landscape of devastation.