Page 74 of Shadowlands Omega

“You’re my big sister by seconds.”

“Yes. Still your elder, have respect.”

“No, you’re my big sister. You’re supposed to take care of me so you should cede the bed.”

I wait, and then I sprint. “Whoever gets there first gets the bed!” I leap, and mid-leap, Cyprus shoves me to the side. I hit the bed and bounce off of the hard, lumpy mattress onto the floor. I land laughing.

“Looks like you lost.”

“Looks like you cheated.”

“There were no rules.” I stand up and Cyprus is lounging back on the bed, his hands behind his head, his red cloak looking more like a comfortable bedspread than the actual disheveled wisp of a sheet stretched across the lumpy mattress beneath him.

I point at him with my face scrunched and one eyebrow closed. “And when you pushed me, I hit the bed first, so there.” I bend down and push his side, trying to shove him off of the bed. He starts to laugh when all of a sudden there’s a loud banging in the hallway. A moment later, ourlockeddoor explodes open.

“What the fuck is this?” Lord Yaron roars.

Cyprus rolls off of the bed faster than he’s ever moved. He stands straight and tall, gaze cast slightly down at the floor. I rush around the bed quickly and stand in line with Cyprus like a schoolchild ready to be admonished — an actual trained response from all the times we’ve gotten into trouble and been made to stand just like this before our parents. I have to fight the urge to look at the floor. I also have to fight the urge to laugh.

Cyprus coughs into his fist. “Sorry, my Lord. We were just roughhousing.”

Yaron snarls, “There is to be no roughhousing with Kiandah, Cyprus…”

“Fine,” I blurt, cutting him off, irritated. “I was roughhousing with my brother. I was trying to push him off of the bed.”

“And why on earth were you trying to get on his bed? Why are you in this room?”

“I was going to share the room with my brother.”

Yaron’s sharp grey eyes narrow. His hand clenches on the brass doorknob. All of the muscles in his hand stand out in relief and the dark mixed leather and fabric of his clothing and cloak make him look truly like a shadow about to take flight…and launch directly at me. I swallow hard and start, “I…”

“I didn’t feel it appropriate for my unmated sister to share a room with an unmarried male who isn’t kin, my Lord.”

Yaron looks like he’s a step from murdering Cyprus, who stands there unrepentant, meeting Yaron’s gaze with a glare of his own. “You dare. She ismine.”

“I am my own,” I pout. “But to spare Cyprus losing his head, I’ll go with you to your room, so long as you have food. I’m hungry, Yaron,” I say, approaching him and stepping well within his personal space. I place a hand on his chest, the other going to his hand on the doorknob.

He falters in his rage, looking down at me with an expression that’s equally hot, but listing in another direction. I push a little and he gives like parchment paper. To my brother, he spits, “You may not approve of me with your sister, but do not come between us ever again. You will regret it. My dungeons are still hungry.”

Cyprus’s face twitches a thousand times in seconds, but he bows jerkily and gives me a hot glare before taking a step backwards.

“Kiandah, come.” Yaron’s voice says he is not to be trifled with and I don’t mean to enrage him further now. So I obey.

Mara is standing in the hallway holding a covered tray of food, pretending not to listen. Her cheeks are burning pink as she slinks past us like a whipped dog and into my brother’s room, closing the door behind her.

“You do not threaten my brother,” I spit, stabbing my finger into Yaron’s chest as he pushes me into the room and stalks after me.

He slams the door shut behind him and the whole wooden wall shakes. “What were you thinking? That I’d share a bed with one of my Crimson Riders while you shared a bed with an unmarried male three rooms away?” He towers over me, forcing me back with his size alone, but I’m too appalled to be intimidated.

I shove his chest as hard as I can, and though I end up toppling back, the post of the bed smacking into my outer thigh, he at least stops his advance. “May the old gods help you. He’s mybrother, Yaron. Get a grip!”

“What did I say, Kiandah? You will not suggest sleeping without me again, let alone sharing a room with another male. I don’t give a fuck if he’s your brother.” He reaches up to the clasps of his cloak and unfastens them. In a rage, he tosses the heavy fabric aside. It lands in a chair, which clearly lacked some structural integrity because the front legs give out and the whole thing goes clattering to the ground. I jump. Yaron doesn’t look at it. He doesn’t look anywhere but at my face.

“I…” I lick my lips and clench my fists, feeling quite warm. “I know, I just… My brother is just being protective. I’m still an unclaimed Omega and an unmarried woman. I thought, you know, for appearances’ sake, it might be a good idea not to stay with you in public.”

Yaron roughly cards his fingers through his hair. It hangs long, past his jaw, and when it falls forward, partly covering his eyes, it makes him look lethal. I swallow hard. He unclenches his fist and takes a step away from me. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, there’s a loud knock.

He huffs and waits a beat before opening the door. “Good evening, m’Lord, m’Lady,” a woman says in a thick Dark City accent as she enters our chambers. “I’m Madame Zenobia. Only the best service for our esteemed guests. So fortunate we are to have you join us this evenin’. And you couldn’ta picked a better night. We have quite the crowd downstairs. You should come join us after you finish your business.” She snickers and meets my gaze with a wink.

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