Page 294 of When Sisters Collide
The blonde legate stepped into view, her braids coiled like a crown, expression a mask of merciless calm. She seized Alena’s wrists.
“A valiant effort,” she sneered, snapping the dampeners into place. The cold metal clamped down, biting into Alena’s skin. “Take pride—he’ll die a true warrior, fighting to protect you.”
Velthur adjusted his grip, unfazed by Alena’s struggle. “Enough. We have what we came for.”
The blonde inclined her head and pressed a hand against the stone wrapped in shadows.
Darkness stirred, coiling outwards.
They meant to take her. To disappear into the shadows.
To leave him to die.
Panic clawed up her throat. “No—please! You can’t leave him there!” She writhed against Velthur’s grip until her body howled in protest. “Leukos!”
He didn’t stir.
He lay in the mud, and he wasn’t moving.
“Don’t leave him, please!” Her cries broke apart into sobs. Her vision swam until he was nothing but a blurred shape on the ground.
Her chest split wide, heart breaking open under the weight of it.
She fought harder, nails tearing at Velthur’s arm, but his grip was iron. Her magic was smothered, her strength unravelling, every muscle screaming.
The shadows surged, a black tide rushing to claim her.
“Leukos!” She reached for him again, desperate, trembling.
But then the dark swallowed her whole, and the world—herworld—disappeared.
EPILOGUE
CAIUS
The chamber reeked of rot, a noxious blend of herbs and blood left too long in the air. Shadows clung to the carved stone walls, stirred only by the flutter of wings in the cages suspended overhead. Caius ducked beneath one of them, nearly catching his head on rusted iron bars. A bat hissed angrily from within.
At the centre of the room, Sagar was hunched over the marble slab, hands working a pestle in steady circles. He ground leaves and powders into a slick, rank paste; each stroke sent up foul-smelling steam that curled through the air and clung to their throats.
“Velthur found her,” Caius announced.
Sagar didn’t look up. “Who?”
Caius clenched his jaw. The old fool was forever buried in his chamber, blind to anything else. “The Omega,” he snapped. “She’s being brought to me now.”
That made the priest pause. Slowly he turned, dark eyes gleaming in the gloom. “She is within your grasp?”
“Yes.”
A smile cracked across Sagar’s face, revealing teeth the colour of old parchment. The sight made Caius’ skin prickle. “Laran be praised. You must kill her. As soon as she arrives in Kisra, bring her here, and we will?—”
“No.” The word landed like a hammer, reverberating through the foetid air between them.
Sagar’s brow knitted. “No?”
“She is not merely the Omega,” Caius said, voice rising with a feverish edge. “She is also the Rebel Queen’s daughter. This is perfect. I will organise a Triumph and parade her through the streets. My temple might be unfinished, but the arena…” His mouth curved into a grin. “The arena will be overflowing. The people will witness her and the new Western chief commander torn to pieces in Laran’s name. We will hold the prayer there, before thousands. You will lead it.”
“The Senate—” Sagar began.
