Leywani gave a slow nod. “His skin was darker… but yes. He looked just like you.”
The air seemed to collapse in on itself.
Alena gasped. “By the Moon…”
Leukos’ face had gone blank—utterly still. Not calm. Not composed. Frozen.
“Prince Galen,” Theo breathed, awe breaking through his voice.
He reached for Leukos, clasping a firm hand on his shoulder. But Leukos couldn’t tear his eyes from the scroll, staring as if sheer will might make his brother’s face appear in the ink.
Alena caught his gaze and gave him a tentative smile, her chest tightening.
Galen. Alive. After all these years… he was alive. Leukos had spent half his life trying to find him, thinking he was probably already dead, but his brother was alive. The heir to the Megarian throne was?—
Leywani’s brow furrowed. “Galen? No, he said his name was Velthur. He’s captain of the guards. Lecne served under him.”
Theo went rigid, colour draining from his face. “Captain of the Tarquinian Guard?” he repeated, as if saying it aloud might change the meaning.
From the doorway, Alcaros straightened, shoulders taut. “Velthur…” His voice was a low growl. “Our spies spoke of him. One of the Emperor’s inner circle. Trusted. Dangerous.”
Alena’s stomach dropped. She turned to Leukos, searching his face, but he hadn’t moved—not a twitch. He sat carved from stone, but the cracks were spreading. His fists tightened until his knuckles shone white. His chest rose in shallow, uneven pulls. Only his eyes gave him away. A storm gathered there. Fury. Fear. And something far more fragile—hope, breaking apart.
“Ley,” she asked, desperate to understand, “is he the one who helped you? What did he say exactly?”
Leywani hesitated. Her gaze bounced between their faces, confusion tightening her brow. “At first, I thought he was our enemy,” she admitted. “He arrived with the Emperor, beat Katell, and threatened to kill me if she didn’t step into that black pool.” Her hands twisted together, knuckles pale. “But after that… he brought me to the edge of the battlefield. Made me watch as Kat tore the camp apart. Then the next morning, he and Lecne took me to the river and put me on a boat.” She glanced up at them, uncertainty written across her features. “He told me he was saving my life, then told me to find you. To warn you about… Kat.”
A long, terrible silence followed.
Theo finally broke it, his gaze darting towards Leukos. “It sounds like… he might be on our side.”
Leukos gave a terse nod, and Alena didn’t need to ask to understand his feelings. She could see it in the tight line of his jaw.
He wasn’t thinking about strategy. He was grieving.
Because no matter whose side Galen—or Velthur—was on, he wasn’t a hostage, as the Megarians had believed. Somehow, he’d risen to captain of the Emperor’s personal guard—a trusted blade in Tarquinius’ inner circle.
He wasn’t the boy Leukos had once called brother anymore.
Theo turned his attention back to Leywani. “Will you tell us how the camp was torn apart?”
Leywani, who’d been stifling a yawn, flinched. “What?”
“You said Katell destroyed the slave rebellion in Eluvia,” he pressed. “Our scouts confirmed it. Entire camps burned. Dozens dead. But one person couldn’t do that alone.” He leaned forward, studying her with unwavering intensity. “How did she do it? What did the Tears—that pool—do to her?”
Leywani didn’t answer right away. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Finally, a whisper slipped past them. “I tried tohelp her. I thought she was still there. I tried to reach her—to pull her back. But…” Her shoulders hunched, as if the memory threatened to crush her. “But then I saw her summon them.”
Cold dread crept up Alena’s spine.
“They crawled out of the smoke—like shadows with teeth. Like nightmares given shape.” Her voice cracked, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And the things they did…” She shook her head, unable to finish.
“The Makhai,” Alcaros confirmed, arms folded across his chest. “Volcos warned me about them. Laran’s monsters. Demons that tore through half the Rebel Queen’s army like they were made of paper.”
Alena’s stomach lurched, bile rising to the back of her throat. She’d heard the name before—during Brennus’ feast last summer, when her mother’s warriors had spoken of the Battle of Kendrisia. They hadn’t wanted to speak of the demons then, either. Just a mention of them had caused an uproar at the table.
Theo leaned back in his chair, a low hiss escaping him. “Twelve be damned.”
“Lecne and I were sent to warn you about them,” Leywani continued. “Katell can summon two demons, and they wiped out an entire slave camp in seconds. Women and children, too.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sound of them screaming.”
