The hot air was thick with salt, clinging to her skin and making her layers unbearable. She struggled with her boots, each movement reawakening sharp pain in her ribs. Her right hand was a broken, swollen mess—she dared not look at it, fearing she’d break down.
Instead, she buried her bare feet in the cool, damp sand. Closed her eyes and breathed.
She’d only ever seen the sea in her dreams, and the real thing was the most breathtaking sight she’d ever beheld.
The water stretched to the edge of the world, glittering like scattered gemstones. It felt impossible. Vast. Free.
A breathless laugh escaped her. She knelt at the water’s edge, boots cradled in one arm, and dipped her broken hand into the sea. Salt bit into her wounds, and she winced but didn’t pull away. The lulling sound of the waves was a soothing melody that offered a momentary escape from pain.
Then—another sound. A distant humming.
Alena turned, heart quickening, and followed it up the beach.
The sand grew scorching hot beneath her feet. With a grimace, she shoved on her fur-lined boots without bothering tolace them—a choice she quickly regretted as sand slipped inside, rubbing raw with every step.
The humming grew clearer, resolving into a beautiful lyrical melody that seemed to beckon her towards a cave at the base of the cliffs.
She paused at the entrance, breath caught, pulse thudding in her ears. Inside, the air was cooler, and the song reverberated softly off the stone.
Ahead, a man knelt by a pool of clear water nestled in the rock. No—not a man.
A god.
His skin was a deep bronze, his arm muscles rippling as he filled a jar with water. Black curls crowned his head, damp at the temples. Lined up against the cave wall behind him were dozens of jars, each corked and filled.
He rose, and the humming ceased.
Alena flushed at the sight of his bare chest. His robe—the same clear blue as the summer sky—hung open, revealing the hard lines of his torso and abdomen, secured only by a golden rope at his waist.
The god’s black curls framed a face so striking it hardly seemed real.
The Archer? The Warlord? No. The praefect had mentioned a lesser deity.
He studied her in silence, amber eyes shimmering with a thousand stars, piercing straight into her soul. The world around her seemed to fade, made small beneath that gaze. Her knees weakened.
Then a frown touched his otherwise flawless face. “Who are you?”
The question hit Alena like a splash of cold water. Between that and the weight of his stare, heat flared in her cheeks.
She fumbled for words. “I’m… I’m the Omega?” Her voice wavered as she gauged the god’s reaction. When he showed none, she cleared her throat and tried again, firmer this time. “I’m the Omega.”
His amber gaze flicked to the golden Mark on her hand. “Oh?” His tone was flat. “What happened to the other one?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned away.
Alena’s stomach sank. Mortals might be beneath a god’s notice, but the casual dismissal still stung. She hurried after him, scrambling for anything that might hold his attention. He stacked the full jar beside the others, then placed his hands on his hips, admiring the lineup like a smug artist surveying his masterpiece.
“Umm…” Alena tugged at the end of her braid. “I guess the previous Omega died. I mean… they must have, since I’m here now. So… yes. I suppose that means they failed.”
An awkward laugh slipped out. By the Moon, she sounded like a confused chicken.
The god continued his work, swiping an empty jar from the stack and returning to the pool. “Shame,” he said without a trace of sympathy. His gaze slid back to her mangled hand and dishevelled state. A faint curl of distaste twisted his lips. “The last Omega I met was a beauty.” His eyes flicked up. “And more eloquent. An Achaean queen from some distant kingdom, south of Kemet.”
Alena flushed. The words stung more than she cared to admit, but she forced herself upright.
“Andromeda?” she asked. She was the only queen Alena knew from that far south. A legend among the Achaeans, famed for slaying the monster sent by the Sea God to punish her people. She had flown to Achaea on a winged horse stolen from a visiting prince, defeated more monsters along the way, and eventually married the prince to rule Argos.
He nodded and set the jar down with deliberate care. “Very well,Omega.” His tone was edged with mockery. “Who have you met so far?”
