Crushing, blinding pain exploded through him. The world splintered into cold and chaos. But it was nothing compared to the agony in his chest.
The agony of losing her again.
Once upon a time, a girl with a heart of gold had stormed into his broken life, seen the wreckage he’d become, and reachedout anyway. She’d made him believe in something better, but he’d let her walk away, heart burning with cowardice. He’d told himself at least she’d be free, but it had always been a lie.
Now she was the one who was lost, slipping through his fingers, and he would not make the same mistake.
This time, he would bleed for her. Break for her. Follow her into the river, into the dark, into the very depths of Tartaros itself.
Because this time, he refused to let her go.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
ALENA
Nik vanished between two lichen-covered stones, swallowed by mist and distance, and the tightness in Alena’s chest loosened at last.
After days of planning, of fear, of nearly dying at her sister’s hands, she had done it. Katell was free—cut loose from the Rasennans’ grip. It was the best Alena could do for her. Now the rest was up to Katell, but at least she had Nik. He would keep her safe.
Alena had to believe that.
She had done everything she could for her sister, but there was no time to linger on relief. Now she had to focus on Leukos—on saving her husband.
Even through the rain and haze of pain, she found him. Leukos was slumped against a standing stone, Katell’s dagger jutting from his side, buried between the laces of his armour. Blood soaked his tunic. It gushed down his ribs, dark and swift, pooling beneath him like an ever-growing shadow.
“Leukos…”
She tried to crawl towards him, but her body rebelled. Sharp agony lanced through her muscles where Katell’s blows had landed. Her shoulder shrieked with each movement, and she bit back a cry.
“Alena…” Leukos’ voice was a rasp, barely more than breath.
“I’m here,” she gasped. “Just—hold on.”
She dragged herself towards the edge of the circle, hands digging into mud and blood. Her mother’s torc might be useless now—like all Gifts within the circle—but if she could cross the boundary, escape the ring, the White Mare’s magic would heal her. Then she could use her Gifts to call for help and save him.
The goddess’ words rang like a distant bell in her mind, echoing through the fog of pain:And when the time comes, it will heal one of your loved ones.
She hadn’t understood then, but she did now.
The goddess had meant Leukos. She had known he’d sacrifice himself for her.
It was her turn to save him.
Alena’s fingers clawed at the soaked earth, hauling herself forward. Mud smeared her arms and face, and her body cried out with every inch she gained, pain blooming in sharp, relentless bursts through her shoulder and ribs.
A low rumble rolled overhead, but it wasn’t thunder.
War horns.
The rain began to ease. The clouds receded, exposing patches of blue sky above.
“What happened?” she asked, blinking up at the light. “Was that… the tribes?”
“Yes,” Leukos rasped. “They’re retreating.”
“No…” Alena’s breath hitched. She tried to lift her head, but the agony in her neck forced her back down. “By the Moon… have we lost?”
The silence that followed spoke louder than any answer.
