Page 55 of When Sisters Collide
“I don’t need them to remember me,” the god snarled. “I need them to fear me, worship me, feed me with sacrifices.”
“And so they will, once the Rasennans are defeated,” Leukos said through clenched teeth. “But without my Gift, there is little I can do.”
The god paused, folding his wings. “And what will you give me in return, boy?”
Leukos met his gaze without blinking. “The Emperor’s head.”
“That’s no longer enough.” The god paced the cave with the flagon in hand, frost whispering in his wake. “If you aim tochallenge Laran’s Gifted, you’ll need more magic than I’ve ever granted. That requires a sacrifice.”
Leukos’ anger flared, but he swallowed it down. “What do you want?”
“It must be something you will not easily part with.” A fierce grin split the god’s face. “I want your life—or rather, your soul.”
The words hit like an icicle driven into his spine. Nik’s eyes widened beside him. Both understood the weight of such a bargain: eternal servitude. A soul bound to the god’s whims was forever denied peace or reunion with loved ones in death.
“If you’re to be a great Achaean hero,” the North Wind said with smug satisfaction, raising the flagon for another swig, “you may as well die like one and continue to serve me.”
Leukos’ chest tightened. His thoughts didn’t go to Charis, the rebellion, or even Megara. They went to Alena.
The way her nose crinkled when she was annoyed with him. The way she read his silences as though they were words meant for her alone. The warmth of her in his arms when the world spun out of control.
The god’s lips curled with slow malice, the kind that came from knowing exactly whose face haunted Leukos’ thoughts.
“Live to defeat the Emperor, then give me your soul,” he said smoothly. “Those are my terms.”
A tense silence followed. Even the wind beyond the cave seemed to hold its breath.
“Leukos…” Nik’s voice broke through, taut with warning.
Leukos’ pulse thundered, but he kept his voice level. “What do you mean by ‘more magic’?”
The god let out a dark chuckle and began pacing again. Frost coiled in the wake of his wings. “I mean the kind that lets you command winter in the height of summer.” He drank more wine, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And if youintend to face the Undefeated and Laran’s whore, the fire they both wield isn’t to be underestimated.”
Nik flinched.
Tales of the woman who commanded Laran’s Flame and led the Black Helmets on the northern front had reached even Tiryns. The Rasennans hailed Katell as Laran’s Chosen, but among the Achaeans, a crueller name had spread.
Leukos cast a glance at Nik, who stared at the ground, jaw clenched. He’d spoken little of his time in the arena with her—only that they’d survived it. Alena had once hinted that Nik cared for her sister. If so, he had buried it—like everything else.
Without warning, Nik rose to his feet. “If you want a soul,” he said, voice edged with resolve, “then take mine.”
The god’s icy gaze slid to him, one eyebrow arching. “Yours? And why would I want your soul?”
Nik stepped closer, shoulders squared. “If you seek revenge for the massacre, then take me. I’m the one who led the Rasennans into the city. I’m the one who showed them Queen Zeuxippe’s rooms.”
A sharp pang knifed through Leukos’ chest, the memories tearing open like an old wound. Rage flared, hot and immediate, but seeing Nik standing there, offering his soul like penance, froze it cold.
The North Wind circled Nik, assessing him. “I would make you suffer for it.” The words echoed through the cave like a dark promise. “Every day you would plead and beg for mercy until I was satisfied my wrath had been sated.”
Nik didn’t waver under the god’s scrutiny. “That’s fine. I’ll pay the price—whatever it takes to see Leukos win and free Megara.”
Leukos stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. Since arriving in Tiryns, Nik had endured months of whispers, suspicion, and exile, shouldering his guilt in silence. And Leukoshad let him, distracted by council politics, the wedding, and the rebellion.
But this?
This was too far.
“Nik, stop.” He stepped between them. “You don’t understand what you’re promising.”
