Chapter 52 #2
“A Megarian?” Lecne gave a small shrug. “Not at first. But I knew he was hiding things. The Rasennans”—he let out a huff—“they worship Tarquinius. Blind loyalty. Anyone who questions him disappears. So for Velthur—your brother—to even hint at rebellion? It made no sense… not unless something terrible had happened in his past. Something deep enough to make him want to burn it all down.”
He looked up then, meeting Leukos’ gaze with quiet gravity. “But after hearing about the Megarian massacre… I guess it would make anyone want revenge.”
Leukos’ jaw clenched until pain shot through his teeth. His thoughts were a storm, colliding and breaking without relief. “Thank you for answering,” he forced out.
Theo inclined his head to Lecne, gratitude flickering across his face. “Get some rest,” he said. “We’ll need you again soon.”
Lecne only nodded and returned to his soup without a word.
Leukos was already moving—halfway out the door before Theo finished speaking. The moment the cool air hit his face, he sucked in a breath like he’d been drowning. The hut had grown too small, the truth pressing in from all sides, crushing him.
His boots struck mud as he stalked down the village’s main path. He didn’t know where he was going—only that he needed air.
A memory surface, unbidden. Galen’s laugh, quiet and warm. The steady weight of his hand on Leukos’ shoulder whenever their father pushed too far. That boy would never—
“Could it be true?” Nik’s voice carried after him. “He heard about the massacre once taken, swore revenge? Pretended to serve the Emperor just to get close enough to strike?”
“Perhaps,” Theo answered, though doubt edged his words.
Nik pressed on. “Then why would the Emperor risk it? Why let a political hostage—the son of his enemy—rise so high?”
“Perhaps because he wasn’t a hostage.”
Theo’s words hit like a punch. Leukos froze mid-step, the air gone from his lungs. He spun around. “What do you mean?”
Theo didn’t flinch, though his posture radiated caution. “Galen vanished a few days before the Megarian massacre. No sign of abduction or struggle. Just… disappeared.”
Leukos shook his head. “We assumed—”
“We hoped,” Theo cut in. “But what if he went to them of his own will?”
The silence that followed was brutal. Leukos’ pulse thundered in his ears.
His mind reeled, dragging up fragments of memory he hadn’t touched in years—Galen quizzing him on Achaea’s blood-soaked history, always patient, always composed.
He’d been the one to explain the rise of the Achaean League, how it offered fragile peace among the kingdoms despite the Emperor’s looming ambitions.
Once, he’d even suggested that brokering a deal with the Rasennans might be the only way out of the Megarian siege…
Nik’s expression darkened. “Are you saying Galen was behind the massacre all along? That he made a deal with the Emperor?”
“Three Silver Shields turned on King Pandion,” Theo said. “None of them were commanders. Someone brought them together. Convinced them to betray the kingdom. Someone smart enough to interest the Emperor.” He met Leukos’ gaze without wavering. “You know who fits that profile.”
“No,” Leukos snapped. “Galen might’ve been brilliant, but that doesn’t make him a traitor.”
“Leukos.” Theo’s tone sharpened. “He hated your father—”
“Enough!” The roar broke from him before he could stop it, raw anger spilling into the open. A few passing warriors turned, startled. Even Nik and Theo blinked at him, taken aback.
Leukos dragged a hand over his brow, regret already burning in his chest, the sting of his outburst hanging heavy in the air. But they didn’t understand. They hadn’t known Galen the way he had—the brother who’d taught him to master his fury, who’d shielded him from their father’s cruelty.
Galen wasn’t the traitor they were painting. He couldn’t be.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, turning away, his heart splintering beneath the weight of doubt.
Leukos found Alena beneath a stand birch trees at the village’s edge, deep in conversation with Lug, Damona, and Dax. She laughed at something Lug said, her shoulders looser, her smile freer than it had been in days.
The sight eased something tight in Leukos’ chest.
When he drew closer, Lug spotted him and broke into a wide smile before striding over. His hair was tied back in a braid, beard fuller than when they’d last seen each other at the hillfort during the Rasennans’ attack.
Before Leukos could brace himself, the broad man crushed him in a bear hug.
“Leukos, my friend.” Lug pulled back, his weathered face creasing with warmth. “It’s damn good to see you again. And thank you. You saved our lives last year—we haven’t forgotten.”
Leukos stiffened on instinct. He’d never liked being touched, but the Westerners were tactile, and Lug’s gratitude rang too true to push away.
So he endured the hug. Maybe even returned it.
Just slightly.
“It’s good to see you all,” he managed, and Damona offered him a welcoming smile.
Alena met his gaze with quiet warmth before turning back to ask Damona about her son. The conversation shifted, and a familiar laugh drew Leukos’ attention.
In the sun-dappled clearing, Kaixo ran wild with a pack of village children. His dark brown curls bounced with every step, cheeks flushed with joy, voice rising above the noise—carefree and light.
When had Kaixo last laughed like that?
Alena glanced over, and both of them fell silent for a while, watching him play. Everything about the moment was far removed from war. And exactly where the boy belonged.
No matter who his parents were, Kaixo was still just a boy—a boy who deserved to race through fields with grass-stained knees and climb trees, not wield swords or navigate a broken world.
A warm breeze stirred the tall grasses. Alena turned towards Damona, sunlight igniting her hair in rich copper hues. “Damona,” she murmured, pressing her bottom lip between her teeth. “Once we leave for the hillfort… this might be a lot to ask, but would you mind taking care of Kaixo for us?”
She didn’t look at Leukos, but she didn’t need to. Her thoughts mirrored his own. Kaixo belonged in a family, surrounded by laughter, safety, and love.
Damona blinked. “I… well, I—yes, of course. If the poor boy has no one else. But what about his mother?”
“She died.” Alena’s voice didn’t waver, but something in it ached. “Kaixo’s been with me ever since. But…”
Damona’s gaze drifted to the field where the boy rolled in the grass with the others, laughter ringing out in the air. “He doesn’t belong in a war camp,” she murmured. “Nor a battlefield.”
“Exactly.”
Out of nowhere, Kaixo came skidding to a halt in front of them, breathless and streaked with mud, cheeks flushed from running.
Behind him, Theo and Nik approached through the trees, no doubt with news from Volcos or Alcaros—unaware of the storm brewing in the boy’s eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Alena sank to one knee in the grass, reaching for Kaixo’s hand with a soft, pleading look. “I was asking my friend if you could stay with her. This is Damona—”
Kaixo jerked his arm away, his small face twisting with hurt and anger. “You’re leaving again,” he said, the words cutting through the air.
Leukos stepped in. “We’ll be needed once the Rasennans arrive. We have to—”
“I want to go with you.” Kaixo looked straight at him, then turned to Theo and Nik, as if hoping one of them would say yes.
Alena reached for him again, slower this time. “The Rasennans are planning an attack. You know it’s too dangerous—”
“No!” Kaixo’s shout exploded out of him, startling a pair of birds from a nearby tree. “You said we’d stay together, but you’re leaving me behind again!”
Alena froze, fingers suspended mid-reach, face paling as though struck. Her past confrontation with her sister no doubt echoed in her mind.
“You just want to get rid of me!” Kaixo’s voice cracked, sharp with heartbreak. Before any of them could stop him, he bolted, feet pounding across the grass, his slight form swallowed by the trees.
Alena stared after him, eyes glassy, lips pressed tight to keep them from trembling. Leukos stepped close without a word, drawing her into his chest and shielding her from the others.
She didn’t resist. She folded into him, her forehead resting against his chest. The pain carved into her expression gutted him, and he held her close, running his fingers through her auburn hair as if he could smooth the ache away.
“I’m just trying to do what’s best for him,” she whispered, her words muffled in his tunic.
“I know, love,” Leukos murmured, his reply meant for her alone. “I’ll talk to him.”
She gave a faint nod, emotion choking her. Despite their audience, Leukos pressed a soft kiss into her hair. He couldn’t stop himself—not when she looked like this.
When he glanced up, Theo was watching with a warm smile. Nik, on the other hand, grinned like a wolf who’d just caught a rabbit napping in the sun. A few paces back, Damona and Lug exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised.
Damona was the first to speak. “So… are you two a couple? We heard rumours floating around the village—”
“I didn’t think you were the kind of woman to listen to rumours,” Leukos drawled, sharper than he intended. He hadn’t expected the Westerners to indulge in idle gossip.
Alena shot him a sideways look—part warning, part exasperation—but before she could speak, Damona’s pleasant expression slipped. “And I didn’t think you were the kind of man to disrespect the woman you love.”
Alena’s cheeks flared. Nik let out a low whistle, earning a sharp smack on the shoulder from Theo, who muttered, “Not the time.”
Damona’s gaze pinned Leukos, and Lug sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “We’re happy for both of you. Of course we are. But Alena is the Rebel Queen’s daughter,” he explained. “Whether you like it or not, everyone’s watching. And people will talk.”
Leukos stiffened. The last thing he wanted was for Alena’s name to be dragged through the mud—especially because of him. They had kept their bond secret because the war demanded their focus, but now that their closest friends knew, there was no need to delay.
“I plan to marry her,” he announced.
All heads snapped to him.
Damona folded her arms, one eyebrow arched. “Really? And when exactly do you plan to do that?”
Leukos didn’t hesitate. “How quickly can you organise a ceremony?”
Damona’s smile returned, approval flickering in her gaze. “Give me two days, and we’ll have you married in the lavender field before the full moon.”
Leukos turned to Alena, searching her face. One look into her shimmering green eyes told him everything he needed to know.
“Do it,” he said.
Damona’s grin widened. She clapped her hands in delight, then reached for Alena’s arm. “Come with me. We need to get you ready.”
Alena blinked, still caught in the moment, but she let herself be swept away. Damona launched into a list of preparations, Lug trailing behind with a reluctant sigh. When Alena glanced back, her smile found Leukos, and an unfamiliar lightness welled in his chest.
“Marriage?” Nik echoed, still grinning.
Theo stood just behind him, both of them acting as if Leukos hadn’t snapped earlier that day. No bitterness. No hesitation. They had come to him as though nothing had ever been broken.
Leukos’ heart twisted with quiet guilt. He didn’t deserve such loyal friends.
“They’re soulmates,” Theo said, deadpan, brushing a blade of grass from his leather brace with exaggerated nonchalance.
“What?” Nik reeled back, eyes wide. “You’re soulmates, and I’m only hearing about this now?”
“We didn’t tell anyone,” Leukos replied, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Theo figured it out himself, so you’re the second person to know.”
“Third,” Theo cut in with a smug little smile. “Alcaros knows, too.”
“Alcaros?” Nik’s outrage flared. “Really? You don’t even like the tall bastard.”
Leukos pinched the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t intentional—”
“I am deeply wounded. Deeply,” Nik interrupted, hand pressed to his chest. He clapped Leukos on the shoulder with exaggerated solemnity. “But don’t worry. I’ll recover—right after I tell Kat you married her baby sister without her blessing. That should make for a delightful reunion.”
Nik shot him a sly grin, settling beneath a birch as if preparing for an afternoon nap. Beside him, Theo leaned against the trunk, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Leukos clenched his fists, mind racing.
Katell.
For a marriage to be recognised under Achaean law, the bride’s legal guardian had to give formal consent. And for Alena… that meant her sister.
Without her approval, it wasn’t just a slight. It wasn’t binding.
“I don’t know about Freefolk customs,” he muttered, uncertainty creeping in, “but Alena isn’t Achaean.”
Theo waved the concern aside. “And Westerners don’t care for that kind of ceremony. In their eyes, she’s free to marry whomever she pleases. Besides, this isn’t some arranged wedding. You two are soulmates.”
Nik stretched his legs out in the grass. “Speaking of which… Is that how you finally got your magic under control?” He rolled his arm, revealing the North Wind’s ice-blue swirls etched across his skin. “The Mark hasn’t reacted in days—not since the fight against the First’s cohort.”
Leukos exhaled, tension slipping from his shoulders. Nik no longer had to pay for his mistakes. “Yes. I have full control again. As soon as we accepted the bond, everything just… quieted. As if my magic had been waiting for her this whole time.” He glanced at Theo. “How did you know?”
Theo’s mouth curved into a knowing smirk. “You looked at her like she was the only thing keeping the world from falling apart. Hard to miss, really.” His tone softened, the tease giving way to something steadier. “She brings you peace, Leukos. And I’m happy for you.”
Leukos wasn’t sure he was meant for peace.
Not after everything he’d done. That kind of happiness—soulmates, a future—belonged to men like Theo.
Yet his friend’s words pressed against the doubt in his chest, easing it in ways he hadn’t expected.
He gave a slow nod, grateful, even if he didn’t feel deserving.
From his spot beneath the tree, Nik snorted. “Let’s just hope Katell thinks so, too.”