Chapter 36 #2
She held him tighter. “You grew up to be one of the bravest and strongest warriors I’ve ever met,” she whispered in his ear, her conviction cutting through the chaos. “The massacre will always be a part of you, Leukos, but it doesn’t define you.”
The boy buried his face against her shoulder. “I don’t know how to let it go.”
“You don’t have to,” she murmured, stroking his soft midnight hair. “You’ve carried it alone for so long… but you don’t have to anymore.” She remembered the words her father—Damocles—had once spoken to Katell after Leywani’s departure. “I’m here for you.”
He lifted his head, eyes rimmed red and filled with unfathomable grief, and something like recognition flickered in them. “Alena,” he whispered her name as if the sound alone could anchor him.
She nodded, brushing the tears from his cheeks. “Let’s go back. We still have loved ones to protect.”
The world went white once more.
When Alena opened her eyes, she was still clutching Leukos. His eyes burned with ethereal blue light, his magic radiating in a fierce storm. Around them, icicles whirled in a protective cyclone, jagged frost spreading across the frozen ground.
But the sharp, biting threads of the North Wind’s power were no longer foreign to her. The spiral of ice hovered at the edge of her control, waiting. She flung it towards the gate, sending the tempest spilling into the valley. In moments, the meadow became a crystalline winterscape.
Then the storm was gone.
The camp lay in eerie silence. Nik and Theo stood nearby, relief etched across their faces. Pelagios moved among the survivors—but there were few. In the distance, the hounds’ snarls echoed over the bloodied earth.
Leukos stayed kneeling, his breath ragged. With a sharp inhale, the ice-blue glow drained from his eyes, fading back to familiar obsidian.
“Leukos,” Alena murmured, drawing her hands away.
His head snapped up, a flicker of alarm crossing his face. “The North Wind. He was there.”
Though it wasn’t a question, she answered, “Yes.”
Leukos’ expression hardened, murderous fury replacing the panic. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He exhaled roughly, the rigid set of his shoulders easing—as if her safety meant more than the storm still raging inside him.
The chaos of the camp faded until only the two of them remained in that fragile pocket of stillness.
He sat back on his haunches, jaw tight as if wrestling with words too heavy to speak. Midnight hair fell across his eyes, shadowing his face. At last, he said, “You saw the massacre.”
Alena’s chest ached at the rawness in his tone. “Yes.”
His hands curled into fists. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I’m sorry you had to see it. No one should… especially not you.”
She shook her head, something swelling inside her she hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. “I’m not sorry,” she said softly. “For better or worse, it’s part of you. It shaped you into the man you are. And… I think seeing it helped me understand the darkness inside you a little better.”
His breath caught, and for a moment she thought he might pull away. Instead, the wall he’d kept for so long cracked, and he drew her into a tight embrace.
Alena melted against him, her arms circling his waist, his warmth seeping into her. Tension slowly drained from his frame as his forehead came to rest on her shoulder. His breath was shaky against her neck, uneven at first, then gradually steadying.
In his arms, she felt safe—like she had finally found her way home.
And then, in a voice so quiet it nearly disappeared into the silence, Leukos whispered, “Thank you.”
She closed her eyes, grounding herself in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. In the heavy hush that followed, full of unspoken words and shared pain, one truth settled in with undeniable clarity.
She loved him.
She’d loved him for longer than she dared admit.
And she needed to tell him. She would find the right moment, the first chance she got.
He was free now, unshackled from the vow to Charis that had stood between them.
Everything about the way he shielded her, the way his gaze lingered as though she were his whole world, proved his feelings hadn’t changed since last summer. He had to feel the same. He—
Without warning, he stiffened. Muscles coiled. His breath hitched. “Fuck.”
In a sharp, almost frantic motion, he tore himself from her arms and shoved her back. A deep frown cut across his face, all the warmth of moments ago swallowed by cold, impenetrable tension.
“Leukos, what’s—”
She stopped.
An unnatural chill crept across her shoulders.
Her stomach dropped as frost feathered over the straps of her armour, delicate veins of ice spreading across the mother-of-pearl surface.
His magic was slipping again.
“Leukos,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice calm.
“Twelve be damned!” He slammed his fist into the frozen ground, jagged cracks of ice splintering outwards. Then he was on his feet, frustration radiating from every line of him. “Nik!”
Nik was at Alena’s side in an instant, his gaze settling on the frosted straps of her armour. “It’s all right,” he breathed, his voice a balm. “The ice didn’t touch your skin.”
She nodded faintly, her focus shifting back to Leukos.
A knot tightened in her stomach at the sudden, painful rift between them.
Once more, he stood apart, distant. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in her throat as she grasped Nik’s hand and pushed herself to her feet.
The frost on her armour was already melting, but deep inside, the cold lingered.
Leukos’ eyes were shadowed, his body still—locked in an invisible struggle beneath the surface. Then the thunder of galloping hooves shattered the silence, drawing every gaze to the broken gate.
Theo squinted towards the riders as they came into view. “It’s Danaos and Despoina,” he announced. “They’ve returned with more men.”
“Finally,” Nik muttered.
Danaos led the charge, his horse crashing through the shattered entrance before pulling up sharply. His piercing blue eyes swept over the devastation. “What in the name of all the gods happened here?” he demanded, fixing his gaze on them.
His arrival rallied the remaining Achaean soldiers, who converged around him. Despoina dismounted, flanked by two healers who immediately set to work—one rushing to Phoebe, who leaned heavily on Pelagios for support.
Nik chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, cousin. Alena summoned an army of demon hounds—they tore through the cohort.”
Danaos frowned, bewildered. Without a word, he dismounted, tossing his reins and helmet to the nearest soldier before striding towards them. “You’re right,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the carnage. “I don’t believe you.”
Before anyone could respond, three enormous hounds slinked towards Alena, licking their bloodied jowls. “I didn’t summon them,” she explained as they gathered around her. Danaos stiffened. “The Huntress lent them to me for one day and one night. And as you can see, they’ll tear down any enemy.”
“The Twelve spare us,” Despoina muttered, hand tightening on her sword hilt, wide eyes fixed on the monstrous beasts.
“This is our chance to take down the Twelfth Legion,” Alena continued, glancing between Leukos and Theo. “Let’s bring the fight to them—while we still have the hounds.”
“The siege?” Danaos echoed, his brow knitting as he looked to Theo for confirmation. “That’s five thousand men—ten times what we faced today.”
Uneasy murmurs rippled through the fresh soldiers on horseback. Doubt spread like a storm cloud. Alena had expected it—charging a siege camp with so few seemed sheer madness.
But then again, so was commanding a goddess’ hunting pack.
She called to the hounds, her magic a summons that needed no words.
The air thrummed, and shadows stirred. One by one, the beasts emerged from the ruins, slipping through torn tents and crawling over broken bodies.
Their fur gleamed as black as obsidian, flowing like liquid darkness towards the gates.
A terrifying army of fur, fangs, and claws.
A collective intake of breath swept through the ranks.
Instinctively, the soldiers stepped back, their fear tangible.
Even Nik retreated a few paces, joining Leukos and Theo at a safer distance.
Alena couldn’t blame them. The sheer number of hounds—four dozen, maybe more—was overwhelming.
They poured from the wreckage like a living tide, each more fearsome than the last.
Theo crossed his arms, calm as ever, as he surveyed the pack. “I think the odds just shifted in our favour,” he said to Danaos.
Alena allowed herself a small smile, resting her hand on the head of the nearest hound. “They’re hungry,” she crooned softly, her voice edged with dangerous promise. “And they want to hunt.”
The tension shifted, the hesitation from moments ago melting away.
Leukos, silent until now, stepped forward. “Then let’s not waste this opportunity,” he declared, his jaw set. “We strike tonight.”