Over breakfast the next morning I tried to maintain a veneer of calm, but the unfamiliar environment set my nerves on edge. This was not my house, not my rules, and certainly not my territory. The sense of being outmatched here gnawed at me.

  "So the human senate has no idea they're being manipulated by a Naerithi power structure?" Selwyn asked, cutting a slice of fruit. The knife scraped against the plate with a sound that made my teeth clench.

  Ross chuckled, the sound vibrating the plates on the table. His massive shoulders shook slightly, the fabric of his tailored jacket stretching across them. "They suspect, naturally. But suspicion is different from proof, and proof is something they'll never have."

  "A remarkable system," I acknowledged, impressed despite myself. "Hidden in plain sight."

  The guard from the previous night, Corsa, walked into the room and dropped down onto a seat at the table next to Selwyn. He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, the blue skin of his face pallid with exhaustion. For a moment he looked like he was going to sleep where he sat before he snapped his attention to us, his golden eyes suddenly sharp and alert.

  "Who is Marcelo?" His voice, although tired, held a strong thread of anger that sliced through the room's atmosphere like a blade.

  Selwyn and I exchanged a look before I spoke up. "He's the one who took her. He's the one we are hunting."

  The words felt inadequate, too simple to convey the hatred I felt for the man who had marked Joy's flesh with his family crest.

  Selwyn moved his food around with his fork, a guilty look on his face. "And he's still got Ellah."

  The two of us looked at Ross, expecting the same angry and aggressive reaction that we had received from every Naerithi who we'd previously told that Ellah had gone missing, but he seemed to ignore the statement, his attention on Corsa.

  "She's spoken to you?"

  Corsa’s movement was somewhere between shaking his head and shrugging. His shoulders slumped, the weight of his night vigil evident in every line of his body. "Two things…"

  A breakfast bowl was slid onto the table in front of him by a young human girl who smiled at him before returning to the kitchen. The smell of warm spices and meat broth wafted across the table.

  "She barely spoke to me before falling asleep. Said she never disappeared from herself except when Lilach was sewing her up. When she did sleep, she was having bloody nightmares all night."

  Corsa began shoveling the soupy contents of the bowl into his mouth, maintaining eye contact with Ross. The larger man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the sound of his palm against stubble audible in the quiet room.

  "Why wouldn't she use her advantages? From what I can see, and I'm quite sure there is more than I can see, receiving her injuries would have cost her a lot of pain. If she is unable or unwilling to disconnect her mind from her body, that would mean that she made herself experience every part of it." Ross leaned forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the table. "Did she tell you anything about what happened with Marcelo?"

  Corsa dropped his spoon down onto the tabletop with a loud clatter that made me flinch involuntarily. He covered his face with his hands, breathing heavily. The sound of his ragged breaths filled the room, each one carrying the weight of his distress.

  "She told me she needed to feel everything to remember what he did."

  Selwyn put a hand up to pat the other man on the shoulder. The gesture surprised me; my brother rarely initiated physical contact with strangers.

  Corsa lowered his forearms onto the table, resting his head on them, and openly started weeping, his body shaking with sobs. The raw display of emotion was jarring in its intensity.

  Selwyn awkwardly continued patting his shoulder, his eyes darting to me in uncertainty. Ross leaned over the table, clapping Corsa on the other shoulder then looking at us. The sound of his massive palm against Corsa's back echoed through the kitchen.

  "This one feels emotions very deeply." He gave Corsa a fond smile as the man continued to cry on the kitchen table.

  The display of raw emotion made me uncomfortable. In my household, Naerithi maintained decorum at all times, and I found myself shifting in my seat, unsure how to respond to such an open display. Ross seemed to view Corsa's emotional outburst with something like affection.

  A soft clicking sound came from the other side of the kitchen and then the sound of a door shutting. Everyone looked over to see Lilach standing against the opposite wall, her lilac skin catching the morning light as she leaned casually against a panel that appeared to be solid wall.

  I narrowed my eyes at her, confused as there was no visible door in that side of the kitchen. Most likely there was a network of servant passages behind the walls, similar to those in my own estate.

  Lilach stepped forward, rolling her eyes at Corsa as she sat next to Ross, opposite us, and leaned over helping herself to the platter of meats that had been laid out in the center of the table.

  She stared at us silently as she ate, her eyes every so often moving to Corsa whose loud sobs had subsided finally. Her gaze was calculating, assessing us in a way that made my skin prickle with awareness. This woman was dangerous, regardless of her casual demeanor.

  I leaned on the table with my forearms, my fingertips steepled and nodded at Lilach. "Thank you for your help last night. I don't know what we would have done if we hadn't run into you."

  Lilach scoffed, the sound sharp with disdain. "You're lucky you ran into us." She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "She's lucky you ran into us. Bloody humans don't know how to do anything themselves."

  Without other movement, Ross raised a single finger and Lilach's gaze dropped down to the table. She fell silent, her mouth closing with a quiet click of teeth. The authority Ross wielded with that simple gesture was impressive.

  Ross leaned over and whispered, purposefully loud enough for everyone in the room to hear him. His breath stirred Lilach's golden hair.

  "Now, Lilach, play nice. Joy has claimed these men as her own."

  Corsa sat bolt upright, although moments before I would have sworn that he was asleep. Lilach turned to look at Ross, the shock and amusement clear on her face. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in surprise.

  "It's about damn time!" Lilach exclaimed. With an amused smirk she looked over at us, this time giving us a slower, assessing look that felt like being physically examined. "Good for her." Lilach shrugged, her silk shirt rustling with the movement. "I don't understand it myself, but I'm sure she has her reasons."

  Ross chuckled deeply, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. "You cannot question the desires of the heart, Lilach."

  She rose from the table and pat Ross on the shoulder, her touch lingering affectionately. "Don't I know it."

  Lilach gave Ross a gentle smile, the intimacy between them unmistakable. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple before straightening, her hand trailing across his shoulder. With one last look at us, she let out a laugh as she walked out of the room, the sound melodic and knowing.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  My heart stuttered at the implication of their words. Joy had claimed us? From their reactions, it seemed they believed Joy had chosen us as... partners? Lovers? Much like the evident relationship between Ross and Lilach. The idea sent an unexpected warmth through me, followed immediately by confusion.

  Before Joy had left to hunt Marcelo, we had agreed to discuss our relationship when she returned. I had begun to understand she desired something more complex, a dynamic built on power and control by choice rather than legal obligation. But emotions? Actual feelings? That possibility had never crossed my mind. I had assumed her compliance, even her willingness, was strategic—a means to an end, not a reflection of genuine attachment.

  I remembered Selwyn's words from the night before, "she belongs to our house", not my house, but our house. My brother's possessiveness had surprised me then, but perhaps he had understood something about Joy's feelings before I had. The thought sent a spike of jealousy through me that I quickly suppressed.

  Corsa was staring at us with an open mouth and an amazed expression on his face which made Ross laugh again in amusement. The sound of his laughter filled the room, warm and genuine.

  "Why are you so surprised, little brother?"

  Corsa seemed to find some amusement in his tired state, and he gave a half grin to Ross, his golden eyes crinkling at the corners. "I thought she'd given up, to be honest."

  The Naerithi smiled as they looked at us. Selwyn and I exchanged confused looks which seemed to amuse the other two men even more. The feeling of being out of my depth intensified, my usual command of situations slipping further away. I disliked feeling ignorant, especially when it concerned Joy. How much about her remained unknown to us?

  After a moment of silence, the amusement fell from their faces and Ross leaned over the table again and clapped Corsa on the shoulder, who winced dramatically and rubbed it. Ross gave him a half smile.

  "Go and rest brother, you're no good to anyone, least of all Joy, in this condition."

  Corsa nodded and stood, looking at us. His exhaustion was evident in the way he swayed slightly on his feet. "If you're staying for a while, I will see you again. I hope to do so."

  He walked to the door and I called out as he reached the doorframe. "Corsa? Thank you for watching over her last night."

  The young Naerithi turned and nodded to me with a half smile before walking out of the room quickly, his footsteps fading into silence.

  Ross sighed and reached both of his large arms back over his head, stretching. I could hear popping sounds within his chest as muscles and tendons moved around, the sound disturbingly organic. He lowered his arms with a sigh, looking at us with an intensity that made me want to lean away.

  "So, Joy remained mentally present despite the pain." He paused before continuing, his voice dropping lower. "Why would she need to remember every detail of what Marcelo did?"

  I frowned and looked up at Ross thoughtfully, trying to reestablish some control through intellect if nothing else.

  "Ellah," I suggested softly. "Joy blamed herself for Ellah being taken. She took off after them to hunt the man down and somehow she got captured—"

  Selwyn broke in, his voice tight with anger. "That bloody Dario."

  Ross' attention swung to Selwyn immediately, his posture shifting subtly into something more alert, more predatory. "I know that Naerithi."

  We exchanged a glance before both looking back at Ross. My brother's uncharacteristic anger was becoming more familiar, yet still disturbing. The change in him since Joy's disappearance worried me almost as much as her injuries.

  "He may already be dead. I'm sorry if that's a bad thing."

  Ross placed his forearms on the table and linked his fingers, mirroring my earlier gesture. The wood creaked beneath his weight. "If he had any part in injuring Joy, then death is better than he deserves."

  I let out a bitter laugh under my breath, drawing Ross's attention. "If it's any consolation, my brother did leave him pinned to a table with a blade through his hand, and he probably was burned alive."

  My words surprised even me with their casual cruelty. I was not typically a violent man, preferring contracts and agreements to physical force. But the image of Joy's wounded body had awoken something primal in me, something that took savage pleasure in the thought of Dario's suffering.

  Ross eyed me with newfound interest, his gaze calculating. "That is better than I would have given him, but the thought is comforting, yes."

  We exchanged a small sadistic smile, a momentary understanding passing between us. Perhaps there was common ground after all.

  "Marcelo got away, and Ellah is still missing." Selwyn looked at Ross who shrugged, the massive movement rippling through his shoulders.

  "My loyalty towards the Naerithi crown is far lower than my loyalty to Joy. My forces, if mobilized, will go towards protecting her until she's strong enough to protect herself again."

  I looked at Ross, tilting my head. "You care for her very much."

  The scent of coffee drifted from a pot on the sideboard, rich and inviting. A servant moved silently to pour some into a cup for Ross, the dark liquid steaming in the morning light.

  Ross nodded. "As you do also."

  I narrowed my eyes slightly, a new tension building. "I suspect not in the same way?"

  Ross chuckled softly, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. "I should certainly hope not. Joy is my blood sister, which makes you two family."

  I felt my body go still at these words, the blood rushing in my ears almost drowning out his voice. "Your sister? Joy is your sister?" The words tumbled out before I could compose myself.

  Selwyn leaned forward, his breakfast forgotten. "But Joy has referred to Ellah as her sister. We assumed—"

  "Ah." Ross nodded in understanding. "Among Naerithi, 'sister' and 'brother' can be used for close bonds of friendship. With Ellah, it is that kind of sisterhood. But Joy and I share the same parents. And Corsa," he gestured toward the door where the guard had exited, "is our half-brother, through our father."

  I found myself examining Ross's features more carefully now, noting the similarities to Joy I had missed before, the same high cheekbones, the same shape to their eyes, the identical horn structure.

  "She never mentioned any of this," I said quietly. The revelation left me feeling strangely betrayed, though I had no right to such feelings.

  Ross's expression softened slightly, his eyes taking on a distant quality. "Would you have treated her differently if you had known she came from an influential family? Would your household have shown her the same... regard?"

  The implication was clear. Joy had kept her family connections hidden deliberately. My mind raced ahead to the implications. Even as Ross's sister, Joy remained legally a slave, required to serve under humans for ten years. The papers I held were still valid, but the power dynamic had shifted dramatically. Had she chosen our household specifically, allowing herself to be purchased by us rather than another family?

  Ross leaned on the table and we felt the wood creak under his weight. All mirth dropped from his face and a menacing expression looked back across the table at us both. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner light, and the temperature in the room plummeted.

  "Joy has chosen you. But, I do need you to understand. If you hurt my sister, I will take your arms off and I will feed them to you."

  His voice had dropped to a quiet rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air. My collar felt suddenly tight, and I had to force myself not to swallow visibly. This was not an idle threat from an overprotective brother—this was a promise from a powerful Naerithi who could tear a man in half without breaking a sweat. The marble-like guards lining the walls were a reminder that we were surrounded, outnumbered, and at his mercy.

  Ross sat back in his chair and resumed eating, happily smiling at us as though he hadn't just promised dismemberment. The casual shift was somehow more terrifying than sustained menace. He sipped his coffee, the steam curling around his face like ghostly fingers.

  Across from me, Ross's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as though he could sense my fear and found it appropriate. I met his gaze steadily, refusing to look away despite the primal urge to submit to the more powerful predator. If Joy had chosen us, then I would prove worthy of that choice, starting with facing her terrifying brother without flinching.

  "So," I said, my voice impressively steady to my own ears, "when do you think Joy will be well enough to leave her room? There are matters we need to discuss with her."

  Ross's lips curved in what might have been approval. "My sister heals quickly. But Lilach will determine when she's ready for visitors." He took another sip of coffee. "Until then, you are welcome to explore the grounds. Consider yourselves... honored guests."

  The emphasis on "honored" carried both protection and warning. We were safe so long as Joy wanted us, but one misstep and that safety could vanish in an instant.

  Selwyn found his voice at last. "Thank you for your hospitality. And for caring for Joy." The sincerity in his tone was unmistakable, and some of the tension in Ross's massive shoulders eased slightly.

  For the first time, I wondered what Joy had told her family about us. Had she spoken well of us? Had she mentioned the quiet moments of connection we had shared? Or did they only know us as the humans who had "owned" her?

  The questions churned in my mind as we continued our meal in silence, the weight of Ross's revelation and warning hanging over us like a blade ready to fall. For now, all we could do was wait for Joy to recover—and hope that when she did, she would still want us at her side.