Without a word, he pulled her close, his breath ragged against her ear.
“Are you ready?” he whispered.
Alena’s fingers curled against the worn leather of his breastplate. Their foreheads pressed together, slick with rain. She nodded, though it felt hollow. How could she ever be ready to fight her sister?
He kissed her fiercely, lips cold from the storm yet sparking warmth in her chest. Not a promise, but a reminder:We’re still here. Still fighting.
He pulled away, resolve blazing in his eyes. “We live to fight another day.”
Her heart clenched. Tears mixed with rain. “We live to fight another day,” she echoed.
Together, they stepped into the circle.
The change was instant.
Magic vanished from Alena, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her knees buckled. The Cyprian’s armour disintegrated into mist, leaving only her soaked tunic, chain mail, arm guards, and greaves—and the pounding of her heart.
The South Wind’s Gift was gone. The Huntress’ magic, too. No whisper of wind, no bond with the wolves.
Even the sounds of battle dulled.
Leukos caught her arm, and their bond hummed through the touch, as if even ancient magic couldn’t sever soulmates. It was enough to steady her.
“Your eyes,” he said softly, offering the faintest smile, “they’re not shimmering anymore.”
Alena opened her mouth to answer—then froze.
Katell appeared at the top of the trail, her stride unbroken. The Makhai followed behind, silent and monstrous.
Alena’s breath hitched. She, Leukos, and Nik backed to the far edge of the circle, blades raised, hearts pounding.
The plan had to work. They were following the White Mare’s counsel. It had to?—
Katell stepped into the circle without hesitation. The moment she crossed inside, the Makhai vanished—snuffed out in an instant.
Alena sobbed in relief. “Stars be praised.” Her chest flooded with a sharp, staggering joy. “It worked.” She turned towards theriver, where rising waters surged over the exposed path, washing away Rasennan soldiers. “Leukos, it worked?—”
But Leukos wasn’t beside her anymore.
He was circling.
Sword drawn, he edged around the standing stones, closing in on Katell, who stood motionless.
“Kat!” Alena called, pulse pounding. “It’s me—Alena! We’ve cut you off from the magic. You’re free now!”
Nothing.
Katell didn’t stir. Didn’t even blink.
Dread clawed through Alena. “What’s happening? Why isn’t she herself again?”
Nik raised his sword, his gaze never leaving Katell. “In Tiryns, the effects of Laran’s Tears lingered for days. Without her healing, her mind will stay warped.”
“If she’s a demigoddess,” Leukos countered, circling wider, “then her healing isn’t a Gift—it’s in her blood. It should help her fight whatever has taken hold of her. Alena, keep talking. You have to reach her.”
Katell unsheathed her blade in a single smooth motion, gaze sliding to Leukos.
“I’ve seen her kill five Gifted Samnites with nothing but steel,” Nik warned. “If she still has her healing, then she also has her strength. And if that’s true—we’re fucked.”
