Page 55 of Shattering

Callum stood tall, arms crossed, a sneer playing at his lips. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and sharp-tongued.

Gray sat on the curb, silent, staring at nothing in particular.

Callum's voice was taunting, singsong.

"Ya know you're a bastard, don't ya?"

Gray didn't look at him.

Callum's smirk widened.

"No one wants ya here. Yer da drinks because of ya. My ma says yer mam's a homewrecker."

Gray still said nothing, his small fingers curling into the fabric of his trousers.

Callum stepped closer, his voice lowering, but still cruel.

"Ya can pretend all ya want, but everyone knows. Ya'll never be a real Callahan. Ya don't belong to anyone."

Finally, Gray turned his head.

And Callum saw it—even at four years old, Gray's storm-grey eyes burned with something fierce, something unbreakable. He had a healing bruise under his right eye. His split lip was healing.

Something that made Callum take an unconscious step back.

Even then, he should have known.

Should have understood.

The fire had completely died down. Only ashes were left.

Callum rubbed his face with both hands, dragging them down as if trying to scrub away years of guilt. His breath came out shaky, his fingers tightening over his knees like he was holding himself together by sheer will.

When he spoke again, his voice was thicker, heavier.

"I regret everything, Gray."

His throat bobbed, his eyes red-rimmed, filled with something raw and desperate.

"I spent years hating you. Years thinking you had stolen something from me, from my mother. And I was wrong."

He let out a broken, unsteady breath, his hands gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"I just wanted time with Tomos, time with you." His voice wavered now, shaking under the weight of it. "I wanted to know you, Gray. Not as an enemy, not as someone I blamed, but as..."

He stopped, exhaling hard through his nose.

Then, almost hesitantly, almost brokenly, he whispered,

"As my brother."

Gray flinched.

Cadi sucked in a sharp breath, her chest aching at the sheer grief in Callum's words.

Callum forced out a laugh, but there was no humour in it—only something aching and lost.

"You are my brother, Gray. And I was too blind to see it before."

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