Chapter 55 #2
Alena blinked, surprised he’d remembered. Such a small thing, yet it touched her more than she expected. She smiled in thanks and bit into the apple, sweetness bursting on her tongue.
The corner of Leukos’ mouth lifted in that way that made her chest tighten. He swiped a couple of plums for himself before turning to Nik. “Human sacrifices?” he asked quietly. “Did you know about this?”
Nik shrugged, though his tone carried an edge. “Nothing surprises me when it comes to the Westerners. Especially not when the gods are involved. Their druids tried to have Alena killed last summer, after all.”
Alena stiffened at the reminder, while Leukos’ expression darkened into a scowl.
“They said the gods had warned them about a demon…” Alena murmured, recalling the druids’ unyielding certainty at the hillfort.
Since arriving in the Western Lands, she’d kept her distance—and the wolves had ensured the druids did the same.
“One with enough power to end us all. At the time, I thought they meant me—the Omega. But now…” Her fingers tightened around the apple. “I think they meant Katell.”
Nik’s brow furrowed, and he sat up, elbows braced on his knees. “What exactly did the White Mare tell you?”
The half-eaten apple sagged in Alena’s hand, forgotten. “She’s not a demon,” she said quietly. “She’s a demigoddess.”
Leukos froze, his waterskin hovering just shy of his mouth. “Are you certain?”
Alena set the fruit aside. “When I left the sanctuary in the mountains, the Maiden revealed it to me. Kallinos isn’t Katell’s father. We’re only half-sisters.” Her gaze fixed on the ground, as though the truth were etched there. “Her real father… is a god.”
A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, brushing against Alena’s skin like a whisper.
Nik’s breath hitched. “Laran.”
Alena leaned back, exhaling through her nose, tension coiling along her spine. “Yes. You were right, Nik. The Mark on Katell’s neck belongs to the White Mare. She tried to hide my sister’s true nature to protect her, but it revealed itself in the Freefolk Lands.”
Nik rubbed a hand over his mouth, shaken. “It’s why your sister could heal herself.”
“And why she’s so strong,” Leukos added, his brow furrowed.
Alena nodded, her words low, heavy with what lay ahead.
“I needed you to know before we ride out. The chances of defeating her are slim, but if we can lure her to the standing stones, there might still be a way. The old magic there… it could break whatever the Rasennans have done to her.” She looked between them. “She’s my sister. I have to try.”
Leukos’ fingers curled around hers, grounding her with silent reassurance.
Nik leaned back on one elbow, the apple almost finished in his hand. He took one last bite, gaze fixed on the sunlight flickering through the trees. “It sounds…”
“Impossible?” Alena offered, a wry edge masking the tightness in her chest.
He smirked, flicking the apple core into the grass. “I was going to say suicidal.”
Alena’s heart sank. “I know… I—”
He brushed her words aside, his expression softening. “But whatever you need. I’m with you, Red. You know I can never say no when it comes to your sister.”
The children’s laughter rang out—light and unburdened—piercing the tension like sunlight through clouds, a reminder of everything they were fighting for.
Leukos lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it with the gentlest reverence. “We fight together,” he murmured. “And no matter what, we live to fight another day.”
The three of them fell silent, gazes drawn towards the grove where Kaixo and the other children played, unaware of the storm gathering at the border.
“We live to fight another day,” Alena repeated, and meant it with all her heart. Rising to her feet, she brushed the grass from her tunic. “I’d better go tell Kaixo the news.”
Alena sat cross-legged in the soft grass between Damona and Leywani, who were threading wildflowers into necklaces with children. Kaixo and Damona’s son flitted around them, chased by Apollo. The scent of crushed lavender drifted on the breeze, warm and heady beneath the summer sun.
She had told Kaixo earlier that she would leave soon. He hadn’t said a word—just shrugged, eyes fixed on the horizon, as if it didn’t matter whether she stayed or not.
She’d tried not to take it to heart, but it had stung. Still, she remained, soaking in every moment, watching him run and play and live, needing to be certain she was doing the right thing.
Kaixo appeared stronger now—his skin bronzed by the early summer light, limbs sturdier from the regular meals the Westerners provided.
There was a brightness to him she hadn’t seen since the previous summer.
He smiled more. Laughed louder. And Damona had assured her he was finally sleeping through the night.
This was what safety looked like. And though Alena longed to stay, the alliance needed her for the upcoming battle.
Katell needed her.
For now, she clung to the serenity of the lavender fields, the sunlight warm on her skin, and the sound of Kaixo’s laughter drifting on the breeze.
“Alena, it’s time.” Leukos stood at the edge of the field, wrapped in his travel cloak. The gravity in his voice struck her like a stone to the chest.
She had known this moment would come. Had rehearsed it in her mind a dozen times. Yet no amount of foresight could soften the pain of saying goodbye.
She rose to her feet and beckoned Kaixo over, her throat tightening. He came running at first, still flushed with joy, Apollo bouncing beside him. But the moment his gaze landed on Leukos, his smile faltered.
Damona’s hands settled on her son’s shoulders, while Leywani stood beside Alena, a steady pillar against the swell of tension.
Leukos crouched before Kaixo, speaking in low, careful tones.
Apollo circled them, ears flicking at every sound, then padded up to the boy, his amber eyes watchful.
Kaixo leaned into the wolf, one hand buried in the thick fur at his neck.
Leukos ruffled the boy’s hair, murmured something too soft to catch, then rose and stepped back, his jaw taut, face shadowed.
Alena approached next, and Kaixo threw his arms around Apollo’s neck, burying his face in the wolf’s fur. His fingers curled tight, his shoulders trembling, though he said nothing.
She lifted a hand, longing to smooth his hair, but hesitated. “Damona and Lug will care for you as if you were their own,” she whispered. “You’ll be safe here. And if danger comes closer, you’ll go north, far away from all this.”
Kaixo nodded, still avoiding her gaze. “Do you have to bring Apollo?” he murmured into the wolf’s thick coat. Apollo turned his head and licked the boy’s cheek as if to comfort him.
“Yes,” she said gently. “The Huntress’ magic won’t hold across great distances.”
“But he could stay with me.” Kaixo sniffled, running a hand along the wolf’s flank. “I’d take care of him. I’d be good.”
“I know you would.” She touched Apollo’s head, earning a low whine from the wolf. “But he’s wild, and his place isn’t in a home.” Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to go on. “Leukos and I—”
Kaixo’s wide eyes welled with tears, already knowing what she was about to say. Alena’s throat tightened. “We’ll come back for you, Kaixo. I promise. As soon as we’re able, we’ll return.”
She reached for him one last time, but he pulled back, his arms tightening around Apollo’s neck instead.
The rejection stung deep, but she simply nodded, swallowing the grief that clawed up her throat. She had left Kaixo too many times, and now he didn’t believe her anymore.
Maybe he never would again.
She told herself it was for the best. Safer. Damona could give him what she couldn’t—a steady home, someone to rely on.
Alena tried to memorise every detail of Kaixo’s face—the round cheeks, the chestnut curls dancing in the breeze, his small fingers buried in Apollo’s thick fur as if anchoring him.
Her vision swam. She rose before the tears could fall. “All right,” she whispered, a brittle smile on her lips. “We’ll be off, then.”
Kaixo pressed a kiss to Apollo’s head, then glanced up at her, his nose red, fighting not to cry.
Alena turned away before she broke. Apollo padded at her heels. She met Damona’s eyes and nearly crumbled at the understanding in them.
Alena wanted to thank her, but the words wouldn’t come.
“I’ll take good care of him,” Damona murmured, pulling her into a firm embrace. “On my life, Alena—I swear it.”
Leywani was next, her arms tightening as she sniffled against Alena’s shoulder. “This isn’t goodbye,” she whispered fiercely. “We’ll see each other again. Katell, too. I’m sure of it. Just… be careful out there.”
Alena swallowed against the tightness in her throat and nodded. She dared one last glance at Kaixo, willing him to understand, to believe she meant her promise this time.
But he said nothing. Just stood there, silent and hurting, stubborn to the last.
Turning away was the hardest thing she had ever done. And in that moment, she understood Katell in a way she never had before: the unbearable choice her sister had faced in that slaver’s camp—to let her go in order to protect her, even if it meant losing her. Just as Alena was doing now with Kaixo.
Leukos and Apollo flanked her, their presence a quiet anchor, though her chest threatened to crack open. They walked through the village in silence. A handful of men lingered near the barn, re-thatching the roof, but without Volcos and his warriors, the place felt hollow—like a hearth gone cold.
Apollo bounded ahead, slipping through a gap in the palisade, off to find Otxoa waiting in the forest beyond. Alena and Leukos walked on until he drew her against his side, his arm firm around her shoulders. She sank into his warmth, clutching his waist.
“He’ll be safe,” Leukos murmured into her hair.
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
At the gates, Nik, Theo, and a few Westerners were saddling horses, their faces shadowed by the weight of what lay ahead. Theo spotted them first, raising his hand in greeting—until hurried footsteps rang out behind them.
“Alena!”
Her heart lurched.
“Don’t go, Alena! Don’t go!”
She spun around. Kaixo came hurtling towards her, his face blotched red and streaked with tears. She dropped to her knees just as his small body crashed into hers, nearly knocking her over. He flung his arms around her neck, clinging as though letting go meant losing her forever.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go.” He sobbed into her shoulder, his whole body shaking.
Alena’s arms closed around him, and the dam inside her broke.
“I told Leukos I hated you…” Kaixo choked out between gasps, “but it’s not true… I never hated you… I’m sorry… Please don’t hate me.”
Her breath caught, jagged, and she pressed her face into his curls. “I could never hate you. Not ever.”
He wept harder, and so did she. For all the time they’d lost, the promises broken, the grief they shared.
Leukos stood behind her, and beyond him, a hush had fallen over the group, their murmurs and movements stilled by the moment.
She held Kaixo until his cries softened to ragged hiccups, until his hands loosened enough for her to cup his face, fingers trembling along the curve of his jaw.
“Listen to me,” she whispered, brushing the tears from his cheeks even as her own fell unchecked. “I’m leaving because I love you. Because I’m going to fight for you. And for your mother, for Phoebe, for everyone who’s suffered under the Empire.”
Her voice broke, but she pressed on, letting the words fall like a vow between them. “Leukos and I might be gone, but we’ll carry you with us. We’ll fight with everything we have, knowing you’re safe.”
She took his hand and pressed it to her chest, over the steady thrum of her heart. “You live here,” she said softly. “Always.”
Kaixo’s face crumpled again, and she pulled him close. “Stay with Damona and be happy, Kaixo,” she whispered into his hair. “And by the Moon, if we survive this, I swear to you—we’ll find our way back. No matter where you are, I will come.”
His glistening green eyes searched her face—those same eyes that had once glared at her from the crate, full of fear and distrust. “You promise?” he whispered.
Alena’s grip tightened on his hand. “I promise.”
For a long moment, Kaixo didn’t speak. Then his voice broke, hoarse and trembling.
“Mama said Ama came to her in a dream… told her not to worry. That you would make the world right again. That’s what she said before she died.
” He dropped his gaze, and Alena wrapped both hands around his in comfort.
“I don’t remember it all, but she repeated that you were chosen not for what you can destroy, but for what you can save. ”
What she could save? Alena hadn’t been able to save Katell when it mattered most. She hadn’t saved San, either. Those wounds still bled beneath the surface, too deep to ever truly heal.
But by the Moon, she would fight with every scrap of her soul to protect what remained.
A quiet rustle of footsteps, and Damona appeared, breathless from her search, but clearly relieved to find the two of them locked in their farewell.
Alena kissed Kaixo’s cheek and rose. “Thank you for telling me.”
Kaixo nodded, lips pressed tight, fighting back tears. Their fingers clung a moment longer, reluctant to let go. When she finally did, it felt as though a piece of herself stayed with him.
Damona moved in, her hands resting on Kaixo’s small shoulders, while he scrubbed the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand.
Alena managed a final, tender smile, then turned—one step, then another—Leukos already at her side.
Her body moved towards duty, while her heart begged her to stay.
She didn’t trust herself to look back.
Not until she was astride her horse at the gate, where the scent of the lavender fields gave way to the sharp tang of leather and steel.
The guards raised their horns, the mournful sound echoing over the plains—an unspoken farewell to those riding for war.
Only then did Alena turn.
Only then, reins clenched tight and throat burning, did she allow herself one last look at the tiny figure waving goodbye.