She was beautiful, of course—but it was more than that. She wascaptivating,a force that drew him in against every ounce of reason he had left.
Then, without warning, Alena tilted her head, exposing the soft curve of her neck. It was a subtle gesture, a silent invitation—one that threatened to undo him completely.
War raged inside him—want against fear, longing against the danger his touch carried.
He could hurt her. He knew that.
But in this moment, reason drowned beneath the simple, aching need to be near her.
“You’ve haunted my dreams,” he murmured, “and consumed my every waking thought.”
Words he’d kept buried for far too long surfaced like an intimate confession.
“Your smile, your heart, your lips…” His hands found her hips, his touch deliberate but controlled, careful not to makedirect contact with her skin. He drew her closer, blood heating within him, heartbeat thundering in his ears. “If I could touch you right now, I’d show you exactly how much you mean to me.”
He spun her around, and her eyes locked onto his, filled with an unmistakable trust that mirrored the desire crackling between them. Her body melted against his, the warmth of her presence flooding his senses with a fierce longing.
Slowly, she lifted her hand to his face, and he fought to steady the wild flow of magic in his veins. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw with tentative softness. The touch, innocent as it was, ignited something deep within him—a spark that threatened to consume them both.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Alena…” he warned, the whisper a low rumble between them.
His Gift surged, straining against his control, but he forced it back, refusing to yield.
Their closeness was dangerous, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.
Not yet.
Not when she was looking at him like that—lips parted, as if already halfway to meeting him.
He must have lost his mind, because every part of him screamed to claim her lips and taste her again.
Then her hand pressed against his chest, and warmth bled through the fabric of his dark blue tunic. She had to feel it—the frantic rhythm of his heart beneath her palm.
Leukos leaned in, so close the tip of his nose brushed along her jawline. She shivered beneath the ghost of his touch. His breath came shallow, every nerve aflame with the need to give in and kiss her.
But just as he was about to close the distance, something inside him snapped. The magic he’d fought so hard to contain broke free with a sudden surge.
And the air between them froze.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LEUKOS
Leukos’ heart dropped.
Ice, sharp and biting, bloomed across Alena’s cheek where his touch should have been warm. She flinched, recoiling with a strangled gasp.
“Alena!” Her name tore from his throat as she brought a trembling hand to her frozen skin. The pain in her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, panic surging through him.
She tried to speak, but only a broken whimper slipped out before her knees buckled.
“Alena!” Leukos yanked the cloak from his shoulders, wrapped it around her, and swept her into his arms. He held her tight, willing his warmth to drive back the frost.
His mind raced, his heartbeat a deafening drum. He’d seen what his magic could do—how it froze deeper than flesh, turning veins into brittle pathways of ice. If it reached the bone, it could be fatal. Her body wouldn’t withstand it.
Though the frost wasn’t visibly spreading, the moonlight was too dim to trust. Every moment felt like an eternity. He had to find a Gifted healer—fast.
“Hold on.” Her faint shivers cut through him, each one a knife twisting deeper. “I’ll get you help. Just hold on.”
