When he opened his eyes again, he was on his knees, gasping for air. The world tilted, his body drenched in cold sweat. The deadly halo of icicles that had hovered at his command now lay shattered and melting at his feet. The magic still prowled inside him, a caged beast clawing to be freed, but his body was spent.
Nik’s broad frame loomed ahead, holding the line. He beat back every soldier who tried to reach Leukos, the ground already littered with corpses. Yet the enemy pressed forward, relentless.
“Hang in there,” Nik gritted out, kicking one man back even as another’s shield slammed into his shoulder.
Leukos’ vision blurred again, dark spots clouding the edges. He was losing control, and the North Wind’s voice slithered into his mind.
Little prince, it whispered, cold and mocking.When I gave you my magic, I didn’t expect you to wield it as if you were a god.
Leukos gritted his teeth, thoughts fraying. “What do you care?” he spat.
I don’t, the god replied with cruel amusement.But should you fall now, it would be quite a loss for your rebellion. Your friend’s soul, however, would be mine.
Leukos’ heart clenched. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nik still fighting, blood streaking his battered armour, frost creeping up his arm where the cold had begun to claim him. And still he fought, swinging with the ferocity of a man who refused to yield. Leukos couldn’t—wouldn’t—let his friend fall to such a cruel fate.
But the magic was too much. A torrent of icy power flooded his veins, threatening to tear him apart. His limbs trembled, his strength ebbing with every heartbeat. He felt himself unravel, the line between life and death thinning, the North Wind’s laughter echoing in his ears.
And then, through the haze, Alena appeared in his mind.
She stood at the far end of the camp, framed by the dark line of the forest. Amid the chaos, she fought—fierce, graceful, strands of auburn hair whipping free from her braid. With a swift, lethal strike, she cut down a soldier, her blade sure and merciless.
Gods, she was beautiful.
She’d grown stronger, her technique more refined, deadlier than before, and pride stirred in him despite knowing it wasn’t his doing. The Amazon and the wolves fought at her side, an unstoppable force tearing through the Rasennans.
Then Alena halted, her breathing ragged, her gaze sweeping the camp.
A warmth spread through his chest. Was she searching for him?
She wiped the sweat from her brow and turned towards the forest. The magic in her green eyes flared as she summoned the Huntress’ power.
The forest stood silent, the trees unnervingly still. Then, deep inside, Leukos felt it—a strange presence stirring, answering her call instead of the wolves.
“No…” He tried to shout, but his voice broke, his body betraying him. Panic gripped him as darkness closed in. “Get away… Don’t—don’t go into the forest?—”
But the world had already faded to black.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ALENA
“Go, go!” Alena shouted, shoving a soldier back while Phoebe slammed another to the ground with her shield before driving her sword into his chest.
Despoina’s gaze flicked towards the remaining Achaeans, hesitation flashing across her face. Then she dropped to her knees, pressing both palms to the ground. Emerald light spilled outwards, wrapping two tents in a glowing cocoon.
Theo’s hunch had been right—the prisoners were on the far east side of the camp, nowhere near the gate. The wolves Alena had brought had followed the villagers’ fear-scent straight to the tents where women and children were chained, exhausted, and trembling. Huddled together inside, the women murmured reassurances to the whimpering little ones.
The sound of those cries had pierced Alena’s heart, but they’d had to wait in the shadows until Leukos’ distraction drew the guards away. It had worked—shouts, horns, and clashing steel had pulled Rasennan soldiers towards the gate in droves, leaving the prisoners unguarded.
But there were too many to take in one trip. The twins couldn’t ferry them all back through their magic. Despoina and Danaos vanished in a flare of green light with the first group, tents and all, leaving Alena, Phoebe, the wolves, and a handful of Tirynthian soldiers behind.
The sudden disappearance of the tents drew every nearby soldier straight to them. Within moments, the small band was surrounded.
Alena’s pulse hammered in her ears. She’d stationed the wolves at the forest’s edge, ready to pounce on any flank attack, and still their numbers were thinning with every clash.
Sweat stung her eyes. Her sword met an enemy’s with a jolt that rattled her arms. He was huge, every strike a thunderous blow meant to crush her guard. Her muscles burned, but she refused to give ground.
She had the South Wind.
