"Stop crying."

  The little girl tried to—really did—but she couldn't help the tears running down her cheeks at the sight of the small hare whimpering, the baited trap's mouth closed around its paw.

  "Don't hurt it."

  The boy was older, taller, bigger. Still, when it came to her, he went soft.

  "Fine, I won't." He got down on his knees and freed the small animal, that set out in the wild snow immediately, his limping paw dragging behind a track. "Now will you stop?"

  She nodded, her small hands running over her cheeks to erase the salty traces left behind.

  "It's probably going to die anyway with that paw."

  The words brought water to the child's eyes again and the boy groaned. His arms reached to drag her in a hug, fingers tapping gently the back of her head, stroking the dark hair.

  "But it seemed strong, I'm sure it'll survive." A lie. Still, the pretence calmed her and she forced a nod against the boy's coat.

  "Come on," he told her, backing away, taking her hand in his. "Let's go back, it's getting dark."

  Dinner had long passed, but the wild had a way of making them forget their hunger. Their parents were long used to their constant getaways, having long ago renounced their quest of keeping them in check. Now that the adventure had come to an end, hunger gnawed at her stomach. She let her brother lead her to their parent's tipi, where they knew a cold plate awaited them.

  But the panel had been left barely opened, a small mistake allowing the outside world to catch an exchange meant for private hears only.

  The voices spilled from the tent's entrance—sharp, unusual, menacing. Too loud, too strange. The girl hesitated, her small fingers tightening around his. Her brother had gone still beside her, his body stiff like the frozen ground beneath their feet.

  Inside, their mother's voice cracked through the night.

  "I'm telling you, something's wrong with that boy."

  Her father was answering, anger flaring in his voice.

  "What is this about, huh? Because we made a vow to care and love that boy like our own, remember?"

  The girl had never heard him even raise his voice, least of all at their mother. She curled her fingers tighter around her brother's hand, seeking warmth, reassurance. But he was frozen beside her, his grip like stone.

  She didn't quite understand, not fully—but a small part of her did. Enough for something cold to creep into her bones, enough for her breath to hitch, the words settling over her like the weight of fresh snow—cold, heavy, suffocating.

  Was he really her brother?

  "It's not about that! Sure, we didn't know we'd be blessed at the time, but it's got nothing to do with it. He has a beast inside him. I see it in his eyes, passing, eating at him. It's not normal!"

  She didn't understand. Her brows knitted, lips parting to ask her brother what their mother meant—but his grip tightened, turning to iron. His face, usually calm, was pale in the moonlight.

  "Ady, love, can you hear yourself? He's a child!" A small pause, an imperceptible hesitation. "And there is no beast."

  There was a beat of silence. Then—"There is!" Their mother's voice was shaking now, rising higher. "And the two of them, they're just too close, Ed. Rose never leaves his side, glued to him like he's her goddamn mate. Something's not right!"

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  She flinched as a strange, twisting feeling pulled at her chest. She didn't understand all of it, but she understood enough—her name wasn't supposed to be said like that. With something sour behind it.

  She turned to her brother, expecting him to scoff, to roll his eyes like he did when adults said something stupid. But he didn't. His lips were pressed together, his gaze dark and far away.

  Their father's voice was firm, angry now. "Don't bring Rosie into this. That's about you regretting to take him in—"

  His fingers crushed hers, making her pulse stammering. Still, he never squeezed too hard, never hurt her. Not even when he was mad. Not even now.

  She tugged on his arm, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, small and unsure. Her voice barely made it past her throat.

  "I'm not hungry." Her stomach betrayed her, growling loudly. They both ignored it. "Let's go sleep."

  She didn't want to hear the rest. She didn't want to know what their mother would say next. And more than anything—she didn't want to see whatever was in his eyes right now.

  For once, he let her pull him away.

  This time around, it was her dragging him, to their tent just on the left, casting aside the panels to engulf in the warmth of their place. Two small beds, a fire running, clothes scattered on the ground for lack of tidiness, sugar bars hidden under their pillows for late night snacks.

  "—regretting to take a rogue—"

  The voices faded as the taut leather walls sealed them away from the world.

  She let go of his hand, willing him to move, to breathe—to take control like he always did. He was the one in charge, a steady force she turned to, following suit without a care. It was never the other way around, and the child did not like it one bit.

  When he still didn't move, she took his hand again and lead him to his bed.

  "She didn't mean it."

  But the words tasted sour on her tongue. She had never felt such franticness irradiating from her mother, never suffered such loath from her voice. Her brother knew that, too.

  "It's okay." He finally found his voice again. "You're right, let's go to sleep."

  But he was not letting go, and she didn't want him to. The words had shaken her, she needed familiarity to appease her thrumming pulse and spiralling thoughts.

  "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

  He did not allow it often, always complaining she took all the space in the small bed when he let her. Still, he never refused when she had nightmares, or when she poked at him in the middle of the night, her mind refusing to rest.

  This, however, was different. Because she was also doing it for him. She could see it—this time around, it was he who needed the warmth more.

  He nodded, and they took off their coats before slipping under the covers, face to face under the flickering light of the dying fire. He closed his eyes and for a few minutes, she thought he was asleep, until his voice made her jump.

  "Stop looking at me, or I'll kick you out."

  Her eyes fell shut. Her mouth didn't.

  "Rowan?"

  She let her forehead touch his as he took a frustrated breath. "What?"

  "Is it true," she trailed off, forcing the words out, "that you're not my real brother?"

  He took her hand under the covers. She opened her eyes to find him already looking and was startled to find something she had never seen in them—fear. Not anger, not frustration—just fear. And it didn't belong there. Anxiousness crawled up her spine, making her shiver. It was her job to be scared. His was to protect her, soothe her the against the frightening world. And right now, he was failing.

  "We'll always be family."

  Not a direct answer, not the one she wanted to hear—but she read in it what she needed to know.

  "How do you know?" She whispered. How could he remember? The girls had only known a life with him at her side.

  "There's a voice. Sometimes. It's not mine, but it knows things. It told me."

  She frowned. He said it like it was normal, like he had already made peace with it.

  He squeezed her hand. "Now sleep."

  The night talk was over. She let her eyelids fall shut again, finding security in the steady warmth of his breath on her skin.

  Because their bond was so much stronger than blood.

  Or at least—it had been. Once.

  Before it was wrecked.

  Before it was marked in flesh that was never meant for him.

  Before fate decided she was never his to begin with.

  This book is a ROMANCE, with HEAT and TENSION. There is a plot, but it is not plot driven.

  Beware of what you get yourself into. The spicy scenes are NOT filtered.

  Also, this is a slow burn. You have to bear with me, because when it unravels—it really fucking does.

  I'm not spoiling you any further. Have a good read.

  TRIGGERS: This book contains scenes and description of sex, unwanted intimate relations, incest and violence.

  Read at your own risks ??

  This story is also posted:

  Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/388065963-the-stolen-claim

  Inkitt: https://www.inkitt.com/stories/fantasy/1429397