Brothers
Poppy
I found myself standing among a cluster of pines.
I didn’t know how I got there. The last thing I remembered was…
Pain.
I remembered deep, tearing pain in my throat that tugged at my chest, and the burning, stinging agony all along my skin.
But I didn’t feel any pain now. Toes curling against the damp moss and grass, I lifted my hand to my neck.
The skin there felt smooth, but I had the sense that it had not been, and what tasted like bitter, acidic shame crawled up my throat.
I didn’t want to remember what had come before.
Exhaling slowly, I lowered my hand and looked around as birds sang, filling the air with high-pitched chirps and sharp, trilling calls. My eyes snagged on a flash of red beyond a curtain of needled branches. Curious, I walked forward, the thick moss feeling like lush carpet beneath my feet.
A warm breeze lifted the strands of my hair as I stepped out of the tall, sweeping pines and into a sun-drenched meadow, carrying the scents of fresh soil and rain. The flash of red turned out to be bright, vibrant red wildflowers.
Fingers grazing the soft petals, I passed rocks smothered in clinging ivy.
My steps slowed as I came to the edge of a craggy hill along a cliff and looked down.
There was so much color. Blooms of pink and white flowers mingled with clusters of lilac and yarrow spilled down the hill to a village below, where the rising sun cast shadows over shaggy, golden-brown thatched roofs and cobblestone paths.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen this place before, and I had no idea how I’d gotten here.
That should have probably concerned me, but here, amid the wild beauty, I was warm and at peace. I was okay, and that feeling from before returned, telling me that here was better than wherever I had been.
So, I stayed. I had no idea how long I stood there. It could’ve been minutes, hours, or lifetimes. I just basked in the warmth of the sunlight, head tilted back and eyes closed, feeling the breeze on my skin as I listened to the birds.
I couldn’t remember when I’d last done something like this, but I knew it had been forever. That I should’ve done it more—
The breeze shifted without warning, sending a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. My skin pimpled as I turned slightly, already knowing I was no longer alone.
A dark-haired young man towered slightly over me, his attention fixed on the village below.
Startled, I took a step back as I stared at him. There was something unnervingly familiar about his profile, the strong curve of his jaw and broad cheekbones. Something that caused my stomach to churn.
I started to speak, but no words came out. He hadn’t looked at me and seemed to be completely unaware of my presence. I leaned forward, my eyes scanning his golden-bronze features. Why did he look so familiar?
Straightening, I glanced at the village below and then quickly turned my attention back to the man.
My chest squeezed. Without making a sound, another male joined him, and the moment I saw him, my entire body recoiled.
I remembered.
I remembered what had come before I ended up here.
The anger, and, even worse, the crushing disappointment in Casteel’s voice when he asked about the promise I’d had Kieran make.
The plans that went awry shamefully quickly—plans that Casteel had been against. The betrayal in his eyes when I demanded that he stay behind.
The deal I’d made with Thorne, the Fate, to keep Cas away.
The death Attes and I had seen in the Bay of Pensdurth.
His warning that I didn’t heed. The confusion and disbelief when I struck Kolis in the heart, and it hadn’t killed him.
The stark realization of Casteel having been right about Kolis’s feelings for Sotoria—for me.
The sight of the Primal god, unmoving and crumpled on the floor.
I remembered how quickly Kolis had gained the upper hand and the pain that went deeper than the physical.
The desperation to see Casteel again. The threats that terrified me.
The panic, knowing I was dying, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I reacted without thought, throwing out my hand as I summoned the essence.
Or tried to.
And I did what I’d done when I left to meet Kolis in Pensdurth.
I failed.
Not only could I not summon the essence, but I couldn’t even feel it. Not a low hum, nor a weak flicker in my chest.
I was hollow.
Because he’d taken it all from me.
Kolis.
And the bastard was standing right there like he hadn’t.
Mouth dry and heart thudding, I started to summon the essence again as he tilted his golden head back, closed his eyes, and smiled.
I froze.
Every part of my being locked up as I stared at him. At how relaxed he looked. At the small, lopsided smile. At how he stood there with his eyes closed, like he was doing what I had been earlier, enjoying the sun and the breeze.
My arm slipped to my side as my gaze snapped back to his face.
I hadn’t been in Kolis’s presence more than once—well, that I remembered, anyway, but I knew that the smiles he’d given me in Pensdurth hadn’t been real.
They’d been facsimiles of smiles—well-practiced and pretty but devoid of warmth.
But this small, crooked one? It was real.
I looked at the two males. Really looked at them. Their features were nearly identical: golden-bronze skin, carved jaws, sharp cheekbones, and defined lips. They were the same height, a good two heads or more taller than I was.
They were clearly twins, but the similarities ended there.
While Kolis was golden-haired and his flesh held churning shadows, his features were more refined, almost delicate, compared to the dark-haired one, whose wavy, shoulder-length hair shone with hints of red.
His features were rougher, less perfect than the other, and his flesh seemed to hold within it the sun.
There were golden splotches along his bare arms that stirred restlessly.
Both were undeniably breathtaking to look upon, even Kolis, but there were also differences in that allure, even with the same features. The beauty of the dark-haired one was warm, while there was a haunting quality to Kolis’s. It was as if they were opposites of the same coin—
Oh, my gods.
Shock rolled through me as I realized who stood between Kolis and me. “Eythos.”
The sound of my voice caused me to jolt, but neither Primal reacted as I continued to stare at them. Gods, I should’ve immediately realized that it was Eythos. He looked so much like his son, Nyktos.
But what was I doing with them? Confused, I folded my arm over my stomach as my gaze darted between them.
I could only come up with two reasons. I was either dreaming or I was dead.
But that would mean Kolis was also dead.
And that didn’t seem likely, despite my remembering seeing that silver wolf tearing into him.
I doubted that whatever that wolf was would’ve been able to kill Kolis.
And, on top of that, if this were the afterlife, none of it made sense.
Kolis had killed Eythos. How messed up would it be for them to be together in death? Or for me to stick with Kolis in death? Plus, his ass should be in the Abyss, and while I knew I wasn’t perfect, I couldn’t imagine being sentenced there by my grandfather. I had to be dreaming.
Kolis shifted forward, causing me to tense. When he made no move toward me, I followed his stare.
I blinked once, then twice. The village was no longer silent; it had suddenly come alive.
Merchants were opening their stalls. Children dashed through the narrow streets while women hung laundry in the warm breeze.
Something struck me as my gaze crawled over the village.
The buildings, the people, their actions—all of it seemed like it was from a different era, but the longer I stared at it, I felt a strange stirring of familiarity that I didn’t understand.
“They never stop, do they?” Kolis spoke, snapping my attention back to him.
Avid interest was etched into his features, and his voice held a note of wonder mixed with something else I couldn’t quite place—something almost like yearning.
I nearly laughed. There was no way Kolis was capable of feeling that for mortals.
“Always hurrying from one moment to the next, never taking time to just…live.”
“Isn’t that what living is?” Eythos said, his expression thoughtful. “The hurrying about, the constant striving for more? It’s all part of their existence, their way of survival. To them, that is living.”
Kolis tilted his golden head, a crease forming between his brows as he considered what his brother had said.
“But how does one enjoy the simplest parts of living while always striving? How can they truly know what the breeze feels like on their skin? How can they learn the difference between the hymns the songbirds sing?”
I watched in silence as Kolis shook his head, a gesture that stirred the air around us with a breath of melancholy. “Do you know what they always lament the most?”
“Dreams not chased,” Eythos answered without hesitation.
Kolis laughed, and it pierced my heart. It wasn’t that dry, brittle sound. It was wistful. “No. What they regret the most is simpler than that.”
Interest sparked in Eythos’s eyes. “What?”
I couldn’t help but take note of how…real this conversation between them sounded. It seemed more like a memory—one I would have no access to.
“They wish they could remember clearly what the sun felt like upon their skin. Something they could’ve done every day if they weren’t so busy striving,” Kolis said finally. “How they live seems so…wasteful.”
Eythos’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You don’t understand,” he said gently, and there was infinite patience in his voice. It felt as timeless as the hill we stood upon. “It’s not in your nature to understand.”
Kolis said nothing to that.