8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Z ylus

"It told you to get out?" My thoughts are flying between wondering if she's lost her mind and speculating if something more sinister is afoot.

"It said, and I quote, ‘ You get out! Get out. Get out. Get out. LEAVE!'"

As soon as I notice the poor female is quaking in my arms, I step into my bedroom, grab the spread, and tuck it around her. It's only now I realize she's clad in a thin, filmy gown and I'm wearing nothing.

Now is not the time to worry about moral codes.

It strikes me with the force of a lightning bolt when my thoughts click into place. I think I know exactly what went on in her room, and if I'm not mistaken, I know exactly who's behind it.

"I'm going to check it out. I'll leave you in my room–"

"You're not leaving me alone!"

I don't know how she manages to sound petrified and demanding at the same time .

"Misty, I'm going to leave you in my room and lock the door, then go check your room."

"Lock me in?" She's so terrified her voice reaches the highest notes in her register, her eyebrows creeping toward her hairline.

"No. Bad idea. I'm going to shut you in and go check out your room. I'm sure… uh, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. Maybe floorboards creaking."

"F-floorboards don't talk . Floorboards don't lift the bed and drop it so hard I bounce a foot off the mattress."

"You'll be safe here. I'll be back as quick as I can." If my hunch is correct, I'm not lying. She'll be perfectly fine here. I can't say the same about my brother, Nivar. If he did this, and if he's still here, I'm going to beat the shit out of him.

After closing the door behind me, I march down the hallway and fling open the door to Misty's bedroom.

The room is filled with Astralite mist that is swiftly dissipating. One of my species was definitely here. That the mist is almost gone tells me whoever was here is no longer just invisible, but in fact, they are gone. There's no doubt in my mind it was Nivar.

I shake my head, organizing my thoughts on my way toward my room. Nivar was only ten months older than me. My mother was so fatigued raising us she didn't always have the time or energy to protect me from him.

He was always an angry child. My grandmother told me he hated me from the moment I was born. He didn't want to share our parents and blamed me for my mother's constant fatigue.

Petulant and spiteful, he took delight in pinching, punching, and tricking me. It didn't help that he came into his ability to perform a spectral shift early and I was a late bloomer, giving him years to terrorize me .

He would take incorporeal form, slip into my room, and pound on me. When he realized the bruises he gave me were dead giveaways, he found other, more insidious ways to torture me.

I would escape to Grandma's house as often as I could. This has always been my place of refuge and unconditional love.

As adults, Nivar and I seldom saw each other before my parents passed. Now we avoid each other completely.

While we were waiting for the banker to complete her paperwork, I looked over the deed to the inn. There was a clause that didn't make sense until right this minute.

It stated that if the owner did not spend a full six months in residence, ownership would revert to Nivar's shell company. That incentivizes him to want Misty gone, so he'll once again be the owner and can pull this scam again. I imagine in his mind, this racket will keep paying dividends years from now as he performs this nefarious fraud over and over again.

I'm going to have to sort this out. Until I speak with Nivar, I'll keep this from Misty. How would I explain that my brother was mentally torturing her? What will it look like when she realizes how he deceived her? Will she believe I innocently hovered down the street this morning, or will she think I was part of this vicious scheme? If that happens, she'll order me out of this house, destroying both our chances to restore it to its former glory.

In the meantime, there's a half-naked female in my room.

After stalking back to my room, I call, "Misty? It's me." I pause, waiting for her to acknowledge me before I barge in. She's already terrified. I don't want to scare her further.

"What did you eat for linner today?" she asks.

Linner? Is my translator acting up? What is she talking about ?

"How do I know it's you?" She's not joking. After what my brother put her through, it's smart that she wants to ensure the male knocking at her door is really me. "What did you eat at the Heirloom Cafe?"

"Oh. I had melioncrott . We discussed renovation plans, and you were excited to buy the most modern kitchen appliances in the galaxy." Perhaps my lame attempt at a joke will help calm her.

"But you talked me into getting old-fashioned ones in keeping with the age of the house." Her quip tells me she's no longer quite so terrified.

I enter the room, and my cock, ignorant of the nuances of having a traumatized female in my room, decides this is the perfect moment to become hard as stone.

Misty is in my bed, right in the middle, where I usually sleep. She's sitting with her back to the headboard, her knees pulled up, and the spread wrapped around her. Her eyes are still wide, a remnant of her panic. Despite her emotional turmoil, all I can pay attention to is how pretty she is with her long, unbound hair framing her face.

Is it her presence in my bed that makes her even more beautiful than she was earlier?