Chapter 53 #2
Incense smoke curled in the air as the priestess prepared the circle.
Around him stood friends and allies—Theo, Nik, Damona, Lug, Leywani, Alcaros, even Volcos, who’d insisted on attending.
Together they formed a ring of protection, each holding something sacred: Leukos’ sword, Alena’s torc, Damocles’ dagger, a pitcher of fresh milk, and oatcakes the priestess had insisted on.
The milk, pure and nourishing, and the hearty oatcakes were offerings to the goddess of fertility and childbirth, meant to invoke her blessing.
Kaixo stood among them, too, cradling the small wooden figure of Ama against his chest as if it were made of gold. His light-blue tunic was fresh, and he’d even combed his hair.
Alena had yet to arrive, and her absence gnawed at Leukos’ mind. What if he’d moved too fast? Been too eager? They hadn’t spoken through every detail—he’d only assumed she wanted to wed as soon as possible, with the Rasennan threat looming.
But what if she didn’t?
His fingers twitched at his side before he forced them still, throat tight.
Then the murmurs of the crowd softened, and even the wind died down when the circle parted.
And there she was.
Alena stepped forward, and every thought, every fear, every caution in him dissolved.
He forgot how to breathe.
Gods…
Beautiful didn’t begin to cover it.
She moved like something divine, draped in rippling shades of green that swayed around her legs, every step a whisper of grace.
Her auburn hair was braided with meticulous care, threaded with tiny white and violet wildflowers, fresh as spring.
Atop her head, a white band trimmed with gold caught the light, gleaming as though it had captured the sun itself—a maiden’s band, sacred to Westerners and Rasennans alike.
Yet on her, it was alluring. The sight of it struck something deep in him, reverence curling beneath want.
She was the woman who had seen him not only as he was, but as he could be. The woman who had chosen him, again and again, despite the war in his heart and the shadows of his past.
Alena. His soulmate. His home.
And by the Sea and everything he’d ever held dear, he would worship her. For all his days.
She came to stand before him, and the circle closed around them. When she reached for him, he took her hand—left to left, heart to heart. The ritual cords, threaded with gold, lay across their joined wrists, carrying the weight of promise, blessing, and the binding of two lives into one.
The priestess gathered the ends and murmured her incantation, but Leukos barely heard it. His attention was consumed by the pounding of his heart and the way Alena held his gaze.
Like he was her entire world.
And she smiled—the widest smile he’d ever seen on her lips, her cheeks flushed.
He took one cord from the priestess and wound it around their joined hands. Each knot was a vow.
To fight beside her. I will fight for you until the end.
To rise if she fell. Whatever you decide to do, I am with you.
To never walk away. I will never, ever let you go again.
Leukos didn’t need to speak his promises aloud—they had already lived them, through blood and fire. But still, when the moment came, he found his voice and gave her the only vow that mattered.
“I will walk with you through storm and sun, until the Fates call for us. And even then, I will find you.”
Alena’s chin trembled, but when she spoke, her voice rang fierce with love. “And I, you. Through every ending and every beginning, I will choose you.”
The final knot was tied.
Cheers rang out around them, but everything blurred the moment Alena stepped closer and rested her forehead against his.
Leukos traced the soft curve of her cheek with his thumb. Her lashes fluttered shut, and he closed the last breath of space between them, kissing her.
In that instant, there was no war, no gods, no fate—only her.
And nothing had ever been more right in his life.
In the sacred hush of the circle, with cords binding their hearts and lives together, something long dormant stirred within him: a quiet certainty he hadn’t known he still possessed.
Peace.
Without warning, a blinding golden light flared at the edge of his vision, followed by a chorus of startled gasps. Leukos broke the kiss, his breath catching as the air grew heavy with magic, thick and palpable.
Alena blinked, confusion crossing her features, before her gaze dropped to the back of her hand. There, her Omega Mark blazed to life, spilling a cascade of golden light that illuminated her skin like a beacon.
Across the circle, movement drew Leukos’ attention to Kaixo, and his heart skipped.
The same golden glow shimmered between the boy’s hands, casting a soft halo around the wooden statue of Ama.
It radiated with an ethereal brilliance, as though the figure had become a conduit for something ancient and powerful.
Leukos met Alena’s gaze, her face etched with shock, and they both realised the truth in the same instant.
The Non-Humans’ deity, Ama, was linked to the Mother Goddess.
Or perhaps, they were one and the same.