Page 126 of When Sisters Collide
He arched an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
Alena looked up, puzzled. “Eating?”
“Really?” He gave her a mock-stern look. “Because I’ve seen you scoop food straight out of a pot with your fingers like some famished Harpy when you’re hungry. You even licked them clean after.”
Her face burned. “You weren’t supposed to notice that.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he said, lips curving as he poured her water. “I also noticed your stomach growled three times on the way here.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but his smile only widened.
“Eat, Alena,” he urged, placing the cup beside her plate. “I spend more time around soldiers than nobles these days. I won’t be scandalised, I promise.”
Alena did as she was told, grabbing the bread and dunking it into the stew before shoving the dripping piece into her mouth with a soft groan of satisfaction.
Leukos went very still.
For a moment, his fingers curled tighter around the pitcher, his jaw tightening. Then he cleared his throat and busied himself with pouring his own drink before sitting down across from her.
The amused glint in his eye dimmed, replaced by something quieter. Controlled. He didn’t look at her again for a while as she ate.
When she was nearly finished with her soup, Leukos spoke at last. “I went to see the North Wind.”
She froze mid-bite, blinking. “You did?” The idea of Leukos, who rarely spared the gods a kind word, seeking out his patron deity on purpose, was jarring. “Why?”
His expression was unreadable. “My magic was fading. I had no choice.”
“Let me guess,” Alena said between bites, recalling her own encounters with the gods. “He was angry because you never offered a prayer or sacrifice.”
“Angry barely covers it,” Leukos muttered, his face darkening. “But yes, he demanded a sacrifice if I wanted more power.”
A chill edged into her spine. “What kind of sacrifice?”
He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming a jagged rhythm on the wooden armrest. “He demanded my soul as payment.”
Alena froze, spoon halfway to her lips. “Your soul?” Her mind raced, trying to grasp the meaning of what he’d just said. She’d never heard of such a thing before. “What does that even mean?”
“Gods can bind a mortal’s soul to them,” he said, bitterness lacing his voice. “It makes you immortal. But you’re no longer free. You exist to serve the god’s will. Forever.”
The spoon slipped from Alena’s hand and clattered against her plate. Her appetite vanished. “Leukos… tell me you didn’t?—”
“I didn’t.” His eyes met hers, grim. “But Nik did.”
The stew in her stomach turned to lead. “Nik?” she whispered. “He offered his soul?”
Leukos nodded, jaw tight. “Yes. That’s why he has a new Mark on his arm.”
She could hardly believe it. “What will happen to him?”
“Once the war is over, the North Wind will collect Nik’s soul.” Leukos drew a steady breath. “He could use Nik for anything—to kill, to torture, or worse. And over time, Nik will change. He won’t be mortal or divine. He won’t feel, or eat, or sleep. He’ll be a ghost, fading slowly until even his name is forgotten.”
The terrible fate he described knocked all thought from her mind. “Leukos…”
“I know.” He reached for his cup and took a slow drink, his grip so tight his knuckles blanched. “He did it for me. To protect me. To make up for—” He stopped himself, jaw flexing. “I never thought I could forgive him for the massacre. But this? This is too far. I didn’t want him to pay this price.”
Alena clutched the table edge, grounding herself. “Then we have to stop it.”
“And we will,” Leukos agreed. “We won’t let him be taken. The North Wind isn’t a benevolent god. He’d make Nik pay for his part in the massacre…”
