Page 247 of When Sisters Collide
“Three Silver Shields turned on King Pandion,” Theo said. “None of them were commanders. Someone brought them together. Convinced them to betray the kingdom. Someone smart enough to interest the Emperor.” He met Leukos’ gaze without wavering. “You know who fits that profile.”
“No,” Leukos snapped. “Galen might’ve been brilliant, but that doesn’t make him a traitor.”
“Leukos.” Theo’s tone sharpened. “He hated your father?—”
“Enough!” The roar broke from him before he could stop it, raw anger spilling into the open. A few passing warriors turned, startled. Even Nik and Theo blinked at him, taken aback.
Leukos dragged a hand over his brow, regret already burning in his chest, the sting of his outburst hanging heavy in the air. But they didn’t understand. They hadn’t known Galen the way he had—the brother who’d taught him to master his fury, who’d shielded him from their father’s cruelty.
Galen wasn’t the traitor they were painting. He couldn’t be.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, turning away, his heart splintering beneath the weight of doubt.
Leukos foundAlena beneath a stand birch trees at the village’s edge, deep in conversation with Lug, Damona, and Dax. She laughed at something Lug said, her shoulders looser, her smile freer than it had been in days.
The sight eased something tight in Leukos’ chest.
When he drew closer, Lug spotted him and broke into a wide smile before striding over. His hair was tied back in a braid, beard fuller than when they’d last seen each other at the hillfort during the Rasennans’ attack.
Before Leukos could brace himself, the broad man crushed him in a bear hug.
“Leukos, my friend.” Lug pulled back, his weathered face creasing with warmth. “It’s damn good to see you again. And thank you. You saved our lives last year—we haven’t forgotten.”
Leukos stiffened on instinct. He’d never liked being touched, but the Westerners were tactile, and Lug’s gratitude rang too true to push away.
So he endured the hug. Maybe even returned it.
Just slightly.
“It’s good to see you all,” he managed, and Damona offered him a welcoming smile.
Alena met his gaze with quiet warmth before turning back to ask Damona about her son. The conversation shifted, and a familiar laugh drew Leukos’ attention.
In the sun-dappled clearing, Kaixo ran wild with a pack of village children. His dark brown curls bounced with every step, cheeks flushed with joy, voice rising above the noise—carefree and light.
When had Kaixo last laughed like that?
Alena glanced over, and both of them fell silent for a while, watching him play. Everything about the moment was far removed from war. And exactly where the boy belonged.
No matter who his parents were, Kaixo was still just a boy—a boy who deserved to race through fields with grass-stained knees and climb trees, not wield swords or navigate a broken world.
A warm breeze stirred the tall grasses. Alena turned towards Damona, sunlight igniting her hair in rich copper hues.“Damona,” she murmured, pressing her bottom lip between her teeth. “Once we leave for the hillfort… this might be a lot to ask, but would you mind taking care of Kaixo for us?”
She didn’t look at Leukos, but she didn’t need to. Her thoughts mirrored his own. Kaixo belonged in a family, surrounded by laughter, safety, and love.
Damona blinked. “I… well, I—yes, of course. If the poor boy has no one else. But what about his mother?”
“She died.” Alena’s voice didn’t waver, but something in it ached. “Kaixo’s been with me ever since. But…”
Damona’s gaze drifted to the field where the boy rolled in the grass with the others, laughter ringing out in the air. “He doesn’t belong in a war camp,” she murmured. “Nor a battlefield.”
“Exactly.”
Out of nowhere, Kaixo came skidding to a halt in front of them, breathless and streaked with mud, cheeks flushed from running.
Behind him, Theo and Nik approached through the trees, no doubt with news from Volcos or Alcaros—unaware of the storm brewing in the boy’s eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
