Blood Doesn’t Lie

He stared at me like I was a ghost.

Not someone he feared—but someone he almost remembered. Like a half-dream, just out of reach.

I stopped a few feet from him. "Your name is Kalen?" I asked softly.

He nodded, slowly. "Yeah. Who's asking?"

I didn't answer right away. My heart was thudding too loud. I could hear my own breath, could feel the pendant burning in my hand.

"I'm Milena," I said. "And I think… I think I'm your sister."

His axe slipped from his hand.

There was a long silence. Wind rustled through the trees, and a bird cried out in the distance like even the forest had paused to listen.

Then he shook his head.

"No," he said. "I don't—That's not… I don't have a sister. My mother—she raised me here."

I took a step closer. "The woman who raised you—was her name Alenora?"

His lips parted slightly. "How do you—"

"She was my mother's handmaid. Loyal to House Thalor until the end. She saved you, Kalen. You were born under a different name."

He backed away, suddenly tense. "Stop. Just stop. I don't know who you are, or what you're trying to do, but—"

"You had a scar," I said quickly. "Right above your left collarbone. From falling off the garden wall. You were chasing me, remember? You said if I didn't slow down, you'd fly like a bird—"

"Stop!" he yelled.

But his hand went to his collarbone.

And he looked pale.

"I don't know how I remember that," he whispered.

Tears welled up in my eyes. "Because it's true. You're not just Kalen. You are Kael Thalor. Son of House Thalor. My brother."

He sank to his knees, hands gripping his hair.

"I've seen you," he murmured. "In dreams. A girl in a red garden. A fire. Screaming."

I knelt beside him, placed the pendant in his palm. "Blood doesn't lie."

He stared at it, and something in him broke.

And then he whispered, "Milena…"

Like he'd known it all along.

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