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Sighing, Lucien opened his eyes and allowed Aksel to tip his face up so that their gazes met.

Aksel’s blue eyes were unusually serious and grim—no seven-year-old boy should have eyes like that. Lucien felt a pang of guilt. Was he the reason Aksel was growing up so fast? Had he exposed Aksel to the ugliness of the world before it was necessary?

“Stop that,” Aksel said, frowning. “I can smell your emotions, Luce. It’s not your fault. Why do you always think everything is your fault?”

Lucien opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. How could he explain to Aksel something he barely understood himself?

“You’re not ugly or dirty,” Aksel repeated, scowling. “It’s the stupidest thing ever. If you say that crap again, I’ll—I’ll—” He frowned, clearly struggling to come up with an appropriate threat.

Lucien smiled involuntarily, nearly choking on the wave of affection that suddenly washed over him. God, he loved this boy. More than anything in the world.

“Now tell me what’s wrong,” Aksel said, his gaze shifting to Lucien’s protrusions. “Your chest?”

Lucien covered the swollen protrusions with his hands, averting his gaze. “I think there was a milk clot or something,” he said, his face hot with mortification. “I finally got it out, but I know it’ll start hurting again soon.” His eyes burned with tears of exhaustion. “I’m so tired, Aksel. So tired of this. Tired of feeling sore, of this body, of hating my body—of—of… Sometimes I think: what’s the point?”

Why do I keep living? For what?

He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying that. He shouldn’t burden Aksel with any of this. He deserved better.

“Luce.”

Something about Aksel’s tone made him look at him.

“Why do you hate your body?” the younger boy said. “You keep saying that, but it’s stupid. It makes no sense to me.”

Lucien chuckled harshly, gesturing to his chest. “Is that not enough? The protrusions are disgusting.”

A wrinkle formed between Aksel’s dark brows. “Don’t be dumb,” he said, eyeing Lucien’s protrusions curiously. “You’re not disgusting anywhere.”

Lucien shook his head.

“I like how they look,” Aksel said after a moment. “They look soft. Like you. Squishy and cuddlable.”

“Cuddlable?” Lucien said with a laugh. “Squishy?”

Aksel laughed too. “I don’t know, okay? But they definitely don’t look disgusting! That’s dumb! You’re dumb if you think anything about you is disgusting.” Something like embarrassment flashed through Aksel’s face. “Like, when people say the word beautiful, you’re the first thing I think about.”

Lucien’s throat suddenly felt uncomfortably tight.

Beautiful? Him?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucien whispered with a weak laugh. “I’m not—”

“You are,” Aksel said with such firmness that for a moment Lucien could see the man he would become one day.

It sometimes still surprised him how mature Aksel was, but he’d come to understand that it was partly because of him being a Xeus. Heightened instincts and strength weren’t the only benefits of being a Xeus. Children with the Xeus gene matured differently from regular children. Aksel was very smart, his superior instincts guiding him where he lacked experience.He always seemed to know exactly what to say to make Lucien feel better.

Aksel was going to make someone a wonderful mate one day.

“Thank you, darling,” Lucien said, clearing his throat a little. “It means a lot to me that you think so. I—thank you. I feel better now.”

“Really?” When Lucien nodded, Akselgrinned at him and pulled him to his feet. “Then brush your teeth and let’s go to bed. I’m tired.”

“So bossy.” Lucien rolled his eyes with a laugh, picking up his shirt and putting it on. His chest still felt a little sore, but he did feel much better on the inside. Lighter. “You have your own bed—your own room. Go sleep there.”

Aksel wrinkled his nose. “It’s cold,” he grumbled. “And it doesn’t smell anywhere near as nice as yours.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Lucien said with a long-suffering sigh, reaching for his toothbrush.

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