Tightness coiled in Alena’s gut. Relief still threaded through her—Katell had gotten away thanks to Leukos—but it tangled with frustration. Since the accident, he’d kept his distance, as though mere proximity might endanger her.
She understood. The memory of ice spreading over her jaw, its searing cold burrowing into her skin, still haunted her. But understanding didn’t dull the sting of his absence.
He’d tried to kiss her that night. Held her when she was hurt, his voice raw as he whispered reassurances. He’d called herlove.
Now an icy chasm yawned between them—one of his own making—and it only made her ache for the closeness they’d once shared.
Alena forced her attention back to the queen. The throne room seemed to shrink, silence pressing heavy. Guards loomed behind them like a second wall.
She clenched her hands, steeling herself. If Charis and Danaos demanded punishment, they could start with her. The plan to free Katell had been hers.
“He didn’t betray the alliance,” she said, her voice cutting the silence. “You betrayed it first when you suggested executing my sister.”
Leukos stiffened beside her, the shift almost imperceptible—except to her.
Danaos’ fury was anything but subtle. “Your sister is the leader of the Black Helmets and Laran’s Chosen,” he snapped, his words slamming against the stone walls. “She’s the Rasennans’ strongest soldier, and you let her go! Do youunderstand what you’ve done? You’ve thrown away Tiryns’ only leverage afteryearsof siege!”
Leukos bristled, fists curling, but Alena shot him a warning look. The last thing they needed was to provoke Danaos further.
“My sister will do the right thing,” Alena said, keeping her voice steady despite the storm inside her. Katell’s desperate embrace still lingered in her mind, grounding her. “If I know her at all, she’s headed to Dodona as we speak.”
She clung to that belief, though doubt pressed at the edges. Katell’s path had grown dangerous, one Alena had barely glimpsed—and if she was wrong, the Achaean alliance would fracture, undoing everything Leukos had fought for. The weight of that possibility sat heavy on her chest, each breath tighter.
Danaos’ bark of laughter shattered her focus, harsh and merciless. “Have you lost your mind? Your sister will be back before the day’s end, attempting to infiltrate our city again.”
“No,” Nik said, certainty ringing in his voice. “She won’t, cousin. We can trust her.”
Danaos’ gaze narrowed, weighing Nik’s conviction against the years of siege etched into his memory. Before he could speak, movement stirred at the hall’s edge.
Philistos stepped from the shadows where he’d been lurking, his tone slick with self-righteous venom. “The Omega has angered the gods,” he proclaimed, eyes sliding to Alena as though casting a curse. “And in doing so, she has released our only leverage.”
A ripple of disapproval moved through the council—robes shifted, whispers hissed. One elder councilman shook his head slowly; another crossed his arms, lips thin with disdain.
Alena ground her teeth, the urge to scoff rising. “If the gods are angry at anyone, it’s the Rasennans, not?—”
Philistos silenced her with a raised hand, his expression dripping with feigned pity. “Your Majesties, we have beendeceived!” His voice rose, echoing through the vaulted chamber with rehearsed dread. “The Omega isn’t here to save Tiryns. She’s here to lead us to ruin!”
Murmurs rippled through the throne room, fear and doubt coiling like poison in the air. Queen Charis’ gaze narrowed, and the silence that followed was colder than any reprimand.
Guards shifted, exchanging wary glances. Councilmen leaned towards one another, whispers sharp, eyes darting between Alena, Nik, and Leukos.
Then—without warning—the air fractured. A surge of magic erupted from Leukos, plunging the temperature until each breath burned cold. Frost bloomed at his boots, spidering across the sandstone floor in jagged veins, racing towards Philistos like a living, vengeful thing. It hissed as it spread, curling and recoiling, searching for its prey.
“Hold your tongue,” Leukos growled. A pale blue light shimmered over his skin and armour, licking him like flames of ice. “Or I’ll freeze it for you.”
Philistos’ composure shattered. His eyes went wide, bravado draining as the frost crept within arm’s reach.
Ice licked the base of the dais, and gasps broke from the council. Robes whispered against stone as several men stumbled back. Danaos sprang to his feet, one hand on the queen’s shoulder, the other gripping his sword hilt, eyes blazing at Leukos.
Alena’s heart hammered. She hadn’t expected him to defend her so fiercely. His raw power made her throat tighten. “Leukos…” she whispered.
The frost inched closer to Philistos.
Leukos’ expression darkened. “Disrespect her again, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“Your Majesty!” Philistos squeaked, shrinking behind the dais like a frightened rat.
Before Charis could respond, the great doors slammed open. Despoina strode in, flanked by two soldiers in worn riding leathers. Without so much as a glance at the frost or trembling priest, she announced, “Urgent news. Soldiers posted along the eastern walls have spotted smoke on the horizon.”
