Page 13 of When Sisters Collide
Dorias frowned. “What do you mean?”
She reached for his hand, and he took it without hesitation, steadying her as she eased upright. Pain tightened her jaw, but she pressed on.
“He healed fast. Like I do. He said he had immortal blood—that he was a descendant of some god?—”
Dorias shook his head, his mouth tugging into a weary half-smile. “The Northerners have a flair for exaggeration—especially when it comes to their exploits and lineage.”
She’d heard that before, ever since joining the front lines. But the image of the man’s flesh knitting back together lingered. More than that, it was the confused look on his face, as if she should’ve known.
“He mentioned demigods,” she murmured.
That made Dorias’ smile fade. He didn’t speak right away, but the slight shift in his expression didn’t escape her.
“Demigods?” he echoed. “Like in the stories?”
The Achaean legends Damocles had told her as a child flooded her mind—tales of the children of gods wielding exceptional magic. Could that have been another secret Damocles had kept all along? Something he’d shielded her from out of fear, or shame?
Her heart thudded in her chest.
But then—why had her Gifts only awakened recently, rather than at birth? Why now, after so many years? And why had the Mark appeared on her neck at all, if immortal blood already ran in her veins?
Questions tumbled through her mind, too heavy to ignore. In the heat of battle, it had been easy to dismiss the Northerner’s words as desperate lies. But now, they returned with sharp clarity.
What if he’d been telling the truth?
All her life, she’d never met someone like her—someone who healed as she did. The Northerner was the first to offer an explanation. One that, no matter how she looked at it, made sense.
She glanced at Dorias. “Could it be true?”
With a calm that felt more practised than natural, Dorias gave a small shrug. “We can ask the priests when we reach Kisra. If there’s any truth to it, they’ll know.”
Kisra—the Empire’s capital, and the centre of the world, as some called it. It was home to Laran’s Great Temple, where Katell was sure to find answers.
Dorias leaned forward, taking both her hands between his warm ones. “But until then, there’s no need to worry about it.”
Katell wished she had his steady confidence. But even if she were a demigoddess, it didn’t change her circumstances.
So did it really matter, then, what the answer was?
The response came from deep within.
Yes.
She couldn’t silence the gnawing unease curling through her chest. Not until she had answers.
She offered Dorias a small nod and decided to change the subject. If she wanted the truth, she’d have to seek it elsewhere.
“I’d never met an opponent like that before,” she admitted. “He was… stronger than I imagined.”
Dorias’ gaze sharpened. “Did you have the Tears with you?”
“I did. But they didn’t make a difference.”
A shadow crossed his face. “You should’ve stayed back.”
Katell released a long breath. “I made a strategic decision.”
“A strategic decision?” Dorias snapped, rising to his feet. His cloak flared as he turned away, pacing the narrow space between her cot and the wooden partition that cordoned off her private area. “Is that what you call disobeying orders? You could’ve been killed. I had to rush you back to camp half-dead and I had no choice but to summon Atticus for interrogation.”
