Kleo walked beside Jack, their hands linked as the narrow path curved beneath a canopy of sunlit trees. His silence wasn’t idle; she could feel the tension in his grip, the unspoken question simmering beneath the surface. It had been building since Rugr arrived.

  She braced herself.

  “Kleo,” he said, “why haven’t you ever told me about your family? I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

  She exhaled, not in surprise but resignation. She’d known this moment would come.

  “I suppose I never thought it mattered,” she said. “They weren’t exactly... involved.”

  She glanced down at the path, watching the tips of her boots brush through fallen leaves.

  “My mother… she was always more interested in the image of a daughter than the reality of one. I’d be trotted out for ceremonies, luncheons, and speeches—dutifully smiled on cue and curtsied when I was told. But—”

  Kleo felt the emotions roiling within her, her voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Behind closed doors, she barely spoke to me.”

  Jack squeezed her hand. “That’s awful.”

  “Once, I was running and fell on the stone floors. I was crying because I scraped my hand. She walked past me like I wasn’t even there.”

  Kleo gave a half-laugh, sharp and bitter.

  “I think she preferred pretending I didn’t exist.”

  Jack stopped, dumbfounded, as if her story couldn’t be real.

  She shrugged, as if brushing the memory off her shoulder.

  “My father tried harder. He visited, brought books, asked questions. Talked about politics like I cared.”

  “He made an effort, and I tried to love him for that, but it never amounted to much more than respect. A simple friendship. He wasn’t there when I needed him. He didn’t bandage my knees or stand up for me when Thespis knocked me down. That was always Rugr.”

  “Your brother hurt you?” Jack asked, disbelief flickering across his face.

  “Oh, he was charming like that.” Her tone turned dry. “He thought I was weak. I proved him wrong.”

  There was something fierce in her eyes now—satisfaction, and maybe a little pride.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Again, that’s awful. I always dreamed of having a brother. Older. So he could take of me and teach me things. Make things easier.”

  “For me, that was Rugr. He was the one who mattered. He raised me. Tucked me in, trained me, made sure I didn’t grow up soft. He was my real family, the kind that counts. My real family has always been small, Jack. Him. And now… you.”

  Jack looked at her then, really looked at her. “You must have felt so alone.”

  "I always carried a sense of loneliness, even with Rugr there beside me. But yes. I learned early that those who are supposed to care for you don't always follow through. Sometimes, the unexpected people end up making the real difference."

  Jack looked at her thoughtfully, absorbing her words. “I always thought not having a family was the worst thing possible. I imagined what it would be like—parents, siblings, people who looked after each other. You had those pieces, but…” He shook his head. “Maybe having them right there and feeling alone anyway is worse.”

  She nodded, leaning into him. “Sometimes, I think I grieved without knowing. The hurt came later, like a slow ache I hadn’t realized I was carrying.”

  “I’m sorry, Kleo,” Jack murmured. “You didn’t deserve that.”

  She pressed closer, savoring his warmth. “I didn’t. But I survived. And now I have something better.”

  Kleo stopped, turning to face him, eyes earnest.

  “Last night, I felt something—something overwhelming. Something that filled the empty spaces inside me. Emptiness I didn’t even realize was there. It came with the pulse and left with it, and for a moment, I was so full of love and joy I thought I’d burst. But then—” Tears welled in her eyes. “Then it was gone, and the emptiness felt sharper.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow, a faint smile breaking through his gentle expression.

  “Oh,” he said, his tone teasing, “at first, I thought you were talking about the sex.”

  His unexpected humor broke through the somberness. Kleo laughed despite herself, cheeks reddening.

  “That filled me with love and joy too.”

  “Oh, believe me,” Jack grinned, “that was obvious to everyone.”

  She blushed deeper, resting her head against his shoulder. “Well, I hope Will and Maya found it inspiring.”

  Jack chuckled. “It certainly seemed to…arouse something in Maya.”

  Kleo stiffened, alert. “What does that mean?”

  Jack bit his tongue. Kleo’s jealousy was a smoldering fire, and he didn’t need to fan the flames.

  “Nothing bad. You know, the way she was looking at Will.”

  He quickly added, “And she’s calling him Will now, not William. Progress.”

  She considered this, relaxing a little. Perhaps she and Jack were having a positive influence after all. Next time, she might be even louder—if only to encourage Maya further.

  Her expression softened again, and she nestled into his chest.

  “What I felt—that joy—I think it was your goddess. Exactly how you described her.”

  Jack kissed the top of her head. “Overwhelming. Endless love and warmth. Protective. Guiding.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. His words rekindled the sensation as if it lingered just beyond reach, like a melody waiting to be recaptured. “She’s reaching out to me, Jack, and calling me to her. We have to follow the signal—it’s not something I can ignore. I have to be honest; it’s not only something I want… it’s something I need.”

  “I know,” Jack whispered, pulling her even closer. “I’ll do everything I can to get you there.”

  For a long moment, they stood, connected by shared yearning and newfound clarity.

  Finally, Kleo stirred. “We should head back. It’s time to wake Rugr.”

  Jack glanced down at her, catching a sudden spark of excitement in her eyes. He grinned despite himself. “Take it easy on him, okay? This—” he gestured between them playfully, “is a lot to take in.”

  Kleo laughed, lifting some lingering heaviness. “I’ll try. No promises.”

  With their hands still intertwined, they turned back toward camp, the shadows of past loneliness softened by the strength and warmth of their present bond.