Page 230 of When Sisters Collide
Leukos held his ground, radiating calm control. “Achaea is a long way from the Western Lands. We have five thousand more ready to fight, but we need time. Time the Rasennans stole from us when they gathered at your border.” He gestured behind him. “We may not have brought our full force, but we come with Gifted warriors—worth a hundred times more than any soldier.”
Volcos’ gaze shifted to Alena. “And the Rebel Queen’s daughter,” he said. “My druids whisper she could be dangerous. A demon, they said.”
“She’s been Gifted by our gods,” Leukos replied. “If you’re looking for a demon, look to her sister.”
Volcos didn’t look convinced. His cold eyes swept over Alena. “The Rasennans hunt threats. They also recruit them. How do I know she is not one of their weapons, sent to worm her way into our ranks?”
Leukos’ shoulders squared, a clear sign his patience with the chief commander was thinning. “The Rasennans want her dead. That should tell you whose side she’s on.”
Volcos’ gaze hardened, then nodded towards Alcaros. “We caught two Rasennan spies crossing the Rodanos River, searching for her. That doesn’t sound like someone the enemy wants dead.”
Alcaros jerked the rope, and the prisoners stumbled forward, collapsing to their knees in the mud. The man’s face was bruised and swollen, his breath laboured, while the woman, dirty and soaked through, held her head high, defiant eyes blazing.
“You lying dog, I hope you rot in this cursed place,” she spat, her voice fierce despite her trembling body.
Except she didn’t speak the Western tongue. Or Koine.
Or even Rhaetic.
She spoke the Freefolk tongue.
Alena’s pulse quickened. Without hesitation, she dismounted, the drenched ground sucking at her boots, but she stood firm. The wolves circled back to her side, Otxoa’s white fur already streaked with mud.
Atop his horse, Alcaros remained indifferent to the woman’s insults. But another rider, a broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair and a thick beard, wasn’t as patient. He swung down from his mount with a scowl. “Shut up, woman, before I make you!”
The woman ignored him, continuing to spew insults?—
Alena stilled. She knew that voice.
Every set of eyes turned towards her when she approached, her heart hammering in her chest. “Ley!”
Leywani’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, her angry expression faltering. “Alena?” Her name came out as a gasp, a breathless whisper lost in the steady drizzle around them.
Alena rushed to her friend, pulling her thin, trembling body to her feet before embracing her. Leywani fell against her, unable to hug back with her hands tied.
“You’re alive!” Alena’s grip tightened, her heart lifting. She pulled back just enough to meet her friend’s gaze, taking in the dirt-smeared face and the exhaustion etched into her features. “By the Moon, what are you doing here?”
Leywani’s mouth set in a grim line. “I came to warn you. They took Kat. Dragged her to some god’s temple in Kisra and drowned her in a black pool. And when she came out…” Her breath hitched, words catching in her throat. A shadow crossed her face, pain welling until it broke through. “She wasn’t there, Alena. Her eyes were black. It was like… like she was gone.”
Alena’s heart dropped. Gone? A thousand questions burned on the tip of her tongue. The weight of Volcos and his warriors pressed in from every side, waiting, judging. She couldn’t falter here. She was the Omega now, and the Achaeans needed strength, not grief. So she swallowed the panic rising inside her and lifted her chin. Now wasn’t the time to think about her sister.
She unclasped her cloak and draped it over Leywani’s shivering form, protecting her from the drizzle. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.” The words tumbled out in a frantic attempt to soothe her.
Her own woollen tunic clung to her skin, but before the chill could fully reach her, a heavier cloak settled over her shoulders.
Leukos.
His warmth and familiar scent wrapped around her, shielding her from the cold. She gave him a grateful look, and his hand lingered on her shoulder a moment longer before he stepped away.
“So, it’s true then.” Volcos’ deep voice cut through the rain, snapping every gaze back to him. “You know this woman?”
Alena straightened, gripping Leukos’ cloak with one hand and forcing herself to meet Volcos’ sharp gaze. “Leywani is a friend,” she said firmly. “She isn’t Rasennan. She’s from the Freefolk Lands, like me.”
“And yet she travels with a Tarquinian guard.” Volcos’ tone grew more accusing with each word.
Around him, his riders exchanged uneasy glances, hands drifting towards weapons. Suspicion curdled in the air, thick and hostile.
Alena turned back to Leywani, who offered no explanation for the man’s presence. Biting her lip, she searched for some way to defuse the tension before everything spun out of control.
