Page 250 of When Sisters Collide
Her family.
The thought sent a tight ache through his chest. Alena could’ve had anyone she wished. She was fierce, kind, and so godsdamn beautiful, and he was just the boy forged from loneliness and despair.
And yet, she’d chosen him.
Not because the Sea God had declared them soulmates. Not because the Fates had decreed it. She’d chosen him because she saw him—truly saw him for who he was, massacre and all—and still reached out her hand.
That truth brought him to his knees more than any sword ever could.
If the rest of the world was about to burn, so be it. He had her. And that meant everything.
When Leukos reached the creek, Kaixo finally noticed him. The boy’s face was pale with fatigue, eyes red-rimmed but dry. He offered a faint, half-hearted smile before returning to the crude spear he carved with the blade Leukos had given him.
Leukos sat beside him, watching the stick wobble under each forceful scrape. He let the silence stretch before speaking. “We were searching for you.”
Kaixo kept his head down. “Apollo was with me,” he muttered. The wolf, stretched out nearby, flicked an ear at his name but didn’t stir.
“Alena was worried about you,” Leukos continued, “and so was I.”
“I don’t care.” Kaixo’s voice cracked, and he dug the blade harder into the wood. “I hate her.”
Leukos frowned at the boy’s harsh tone, yet his younger self would have understood. How many times had he cursed his loved ones in anger? “No,” he murmured. “You don’t. You’re hurting. You lost your mother, and the world has been crueller to you than to most. I know you’re angry, and you have every reason to be. I know that feeling well.”
Kaixo’s hands stilled. “Your mother’s dead, too?”
“Yes,” Leukos said softly. “And my father. And my older brother. The Rasennans killed them. I was a couple of years older than you. I was the one who found their bodies. And I remember how angry I was. At everything. At the gods. At people who tried to help. I didn’t want their pity. I wanted my family back.”
Kaixo cut him a quick glance, his eyebrows drawn tight. “What happened?”
“I pushed everyone away,” Leukos said, resting his arms across his knees. “For years, I wandered alone. I fought because I had nothing else. And I was still lost.”
He let that settle for a heartbeat.
“Then I met Alena.” His voice softened, raw and reverent. “And she didn’t try to fix me. She just… saw me. And stayed. And now, she’s helping me remember who I was before all the pain.”
Kaixo was quiet, the half-carved spear sagging between his hands.
“You don’t have to like her right now,” Leukos continued, “but don’t hate the one person who wants to love you and is trying to protect you.”
Kaixo’s jaw tightened. “I don’t need protection. I don’t need anyone.”
Leukos allowed the silence to stretch between them. Then, without judgement, he said, “That’s the thing about family. Realfamily. They stay. Even when you’re pushing them away. Even when you say you don’t want them.”
Kaixo didn’t answer, but his fingers curled a little tighter around the stick. The blade trembled in his grip.
Apollo lifted his head and leaned it against the boy’s knee.
“Damona will take good care of you while we’re gone,” Leukos said gently. “Just until Alena and I return.”
Kaixo’s shoulders slumped. “I’d rather be with you.”
“I know.” Leukos’ heart tightened at the honesty in the boy’s voice. “I’d rather have you with me, too.” Then, slowly, he let a smile ghost across his face, a small effort to lift the weight between them.
He reached forward and picked up the carved spear from Kaixo’s lap, turning it over in his hands. The point was uneven, but it was a start. Leukos pulled out his own blade and began refining the tip with practised strokes.
“Tell me,” he said in a lighter tone, “have you ever been to a wedding?”
That caught Kaixo off guard. His head snapped up, the bitterness in his expression replaced by curiosity. “No,” he answered after a beat. “Our master in Kisra wouldn’t allow it, even though his family had two weddings. But we got more food that day. Fresh food, too. Not the rotten stuff.”
