Chapter 51 #3
Theo rose next, gesturing at his seat beside Leukos. Alena offered a grateful smile, then lifted a clay pitcher and filled two goblets with wine while Theo gave them space.
She set a goblet into Leukos’ hands. He hadn’t moved since hearing the news about his brother, but he took it without a word and drained it in a single swallow, the tension in his shoulders barely easing.
Alena refilled his cup, staying close, unwilling to let his silence push her away again. When he finally faced her, the haunted look in his eyes shifted, enough to remind her that he saw her, too.
“Do you… want to talk about him?” she asked gently.
Leukos shook his head. “No. He’s been gone for years, and I… Out of all the possibilities, I never…” His words faltered, breaking on a rough exhale. “I’ll speak with the Rasennan—Lecne—tomorrow.”
“At least it sounds like he might be on our side…?” she offered, though she already knew his answer.
“Perhaps.” He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled. Weariness dragged at his face. “We’ll confirm the scroll’s information with Volcos and his spies tomorrow.”
Alena’s chest tightened at how hard he was trying to keep his voice steady. She reached up and smoothed back a dark strand that had fallen across his brow. “Then let’s rest tonight,” she murmured. “Tomorrow can wait.”
Leukos rose at that, motion brisk as if to prove his composure. Theo moved to follow, but Leukos waved him off, his tone clipped. “I’m fine.”
Alena knew better.
Theo guided them towards the beds, and Leukos sank onto a cot.
Next to it, Leywani occupied another, already half-asleep under a rough wool blanket.
His composure cracked there, in the way he collapsed rather than lay down, as though the weight of the news about his brother had finally pressed him low.
“There are more beds in the hut next door for the men,” Alcaros said, unease plain in the set of his jaw.
Alena unclasped Leukos’ cloak from her shoulders and draped it over a chair. “He can stay here tonight,” she replied, her tone leaving no room for dispute.
Alcaros lingered, clearly unwilling to let it drop. “My lady, are you certain—?”
“It’s fine,” Theo said quietly, taking Alcaros’ arm and steering him away. Just before they slipped outside, Alena caught the faintest murmur from Theo: “They’re soulmates.”
The main door shut behind them with a soft, final click, and silence fell over the hut. Only the crackle of the hearth and the steady rhythm of Leywani’s breathing filled the space.
Alena knelt before Leukos and unlaced his boots with care, pulling them off one by one. Then she worked on his armour, setting each piece aside with gentle precision, as if the simple act could strip more than just the physical weight from his shoulders.
From the water basin, she drew a damp cloth and brushed it across his brow, tracing the sharp lines of his face, wiping away dirt and sweat.
She lingered, fingertips pressing lightly against the tension beneath his skin.
She didn’t know how to heal the pain in him, didn’t even know if she could, but she found a fragile, selfish comfort in touching him.
If she could take even a fraction of his burden into her hands, she would.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered at last, his gaze fixed on the floor. “You don’t have to stay. After what you heard about Katell… maybe you’d rather be alone.”
“No.” Alena didn’t hesitate. “I’m exactly where I should be.”
Whatever protest Leukos had faded on his lips, and she let the silence stretch between them, sinking into the quiet comfort of caring for him.
She helped him shrug off his cloak, then hesitated at the edge of the narrow bed, heart fluttering. Perhaps she’d been too forward, insisting she stay with him tonight. Maybe he hadn’t wanted her here at all.
Her hand hovered at the edge of the blanket, caught between retreat and the ache of longing.
Before she could second-guess herself, his arms swept around her, pulling her onto his lap. She let out a soft gasp, but melted into him, against the solid breadth of his chest. His warmth surrounded her, his heartbeat thudding beneath her ear.
A shiver ran down her spine, her breath catching. The world outside vanished, leaving only this impossible, perfect closeness.
Then reality intruded. She was straddling him, both of them clad in nothing more than thin linen tunics. Her cheeks flamed. “Leukos…” she whispered, voice tight, “this is highly inappropriate.”
He gave a low huff against her neck, half amusement, half dismissal.
“There’ll be rumours,” she pressed, unease curling in her chest, sharpened by the memory of Alcaros’ disapproving stare.
“The Westerners won’t care,” he murmured.
“But the Achaeans will,” she said, quieter still. “You’re their leader. And we’re not married. Besides, Leywani is here, too. Maybe I should—”
His arms snapped tighter around her, cutting off the thought. “Don’t leave.” The raw plea lingered, heavy in the stillness. Silence stretched, broken only by the fire’s crackle and his breath against her skin.
Then he tilted his head up, facing her, and in the depths of his eyes, she saw it: the fierceness of his devotion and the unspoken promise of every tomorrow.
“Stay,” he breathed. “Marry me… and stay.”
Alena’s breath caught, her heart stumbling over itself. “What?”
His hands slid down her back to rest at her waist, anchoring her in place. “Alena,” he said, her name trembling with devotion. “You’re my soulmate. Every moment we spend apart is torment. If marriage is what it takes to keep you by my side every night, then let’s do it. Preferably soon.”
His words hung in the air between them, a promise as solid as the strength of his arms holding her close.
He raised his hand, cupping her cheek before his lips met hers—a kiss filled with quiet certainty.
Her breath caught, her mouth yielding with a soft sigh.
She kissed him back, heat rising between them.
He shifted, lying back on the bed and drawing her down with him.
The weight of his body beneath hers anchored her, his arms wrapping her in a protective embrace.
But before the moment could carry her further, she broke away, pressing her palm flat to his chest to keep him still. Her lips tingled, her breath unsteady.
“Wait. One more thing,” she whispered. “Did you tell Theo we were soulmates? I thought we weren’t telling anyone.”
Leukos’ gaze softened, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said it all. “I didn’t,” he said, settling beside her with a sigh, his arm still draped around her waist. “But his Gift makes him annoyingly perceptive.”
“Oh.” She nestled closer, tucking herself into the solid heat of his body. “Nik’s not going to be happy to be left out.”
A low sound rumbled in Leukos’ chest—half growl, half laugh. Alena smiled against him, certain he was holding back some sharp remark about the blond.
Then his lips brushed her temple, lingering there for a heartbeat. “We should get some sleep, love.”
Alena tilted her head, arching an eyebrow at him. “Says the man who couldn’t keep his lips to himself.”
A smirk tugged at his mouth. “I don’t hear you complaining.”
“No, I wasn’t.” She stole another lingering kiss. “I could kiss you all night.”
His eyes fluttered shut, though his quiet smile remained. “Don’t tempt me.”
He pulled her closer still, tucking her against him, his lips grazing the crown of her head.
She closed her eyes, pushing away the storm of thoughts clawing at her—Katell, the war, the White Mare’s revelations she still hadn’t confessed to Leukos.
Here, within the shelter of his arms, none of it could reach her.
The weight of the world slid from her shoulders, leaving only the warmth of his body at her back and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.