chapter 7
I twirl around in front of the mirror, watching how my pretty white dress flutters and shines from every direction.
Wen finds the lip gloss. She’s also wearing the same white dress. We are twinning for today’s party.
It’s Zoan and Leo’s welcome party. Tonight, they’ll return from Pa’s countryside home.
I’m a little nervous to see Zoan after two years.
In these two years, I’ve seen him plenty of times on video calls, but not once in person.
Our parents never took me there, only once, a few months after Zoan started living there, did they take me along.
Wen opens the lip gloss and applies it to her pink lips. I take it from her hand, brushing it over my own lips. We both smile wide at each other in the mirror.
Everyone at school thinks we are twin sisters because of our identical brown hair, amber eyes, full cupid-bow lips, round faces, and pale skin tone. We both inherited all these features from Grandma Flora, we look like her two living copies.
But there are some differences. The biggest is in our eyes.
Wen’s are wide, soft doe eyes like our aunt’s, while mine are phoenix-shaped like my mom’s.
Another difference is my hair falls straight, while Wen’s tumbles in waves.
We also have differences in our smiles, though they’re only noticeable up close.
The door of my room opens, and Mama walks in. “Are you ready, girls?”
We both nod.
“Come then. All the guests have arrived. They’re asking for you both.”
I hurry toward her, excitement bubbling in my chest. “Are Zoan and Leo also here?” I ask with a big grin.
She shakes her head. “They’ll reach in an hour. They’re coming with Pa and Ma.”
“Why are they so late?” I ask, frustration spilling into my voice.
Mama chuckles. “Let’s go.”
Wen and I hold each other’s hands as we follow Mama.
The party is organized on our hill, outside in the big garden.
Strings of warm lights hang across the trees, music plays softly, and people chatter in groups.
As soon as we enter, guests after guests stop us, and Mama introduces us to them.
Most are Daddy’s and Uncle’s business partners whom we don’t really need to remember.
Finally, Mama guides us toward groups of people I actually know.
We greet Uncle Ruslan and his wife, Aunt Bella.
Standing beside them is another Mikhailov uncle, Damir, with his wife, Aunt Hope.
Last of the Mikhailov brothers is Uncle Maksim, with his wife, Aunt Savi—who also happens to be Daddy’s cousin.
Then comes Uncle Troy, Daddy’s cousin, and Aunt Stacy, Mama’s best friend.
After meeting all the elders, Wen and I walk to where Autumn and Kazimir are standing. Kaz is our cousin, Aunt Savi’s son. Autumn is Uncle Troy’s daughter, our other cousin.
Kaz introduces Iselyn and Zander to us. Iselyn is his cousin, Uncle Damir’s daughter. Zander is his cousin too, Uncle Ruslan’s son.
Kaz and Zander drift away to join the group of older boys, while we girls stay together.
Iselyn glances at Wen and me a few times before finally asking, “If you both aren’t real sisters, then how come you look so similar?”
Wen and I chuckle. She answers, “Because we both got our grandma’s genes. My mom and her dad are real siblings. Her mom and my dad are step-siblings, but apart from similar-looking eyes, they don’t have much else in common.”
Iselyn nods in understanding, her wide blue eyes are sparkling.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” I tell her.
She chuckles shyly.
Autumn adds, “And so is her hair.”
Iselyn rolls her eyes. “There is nothing beautiful in this bird’s nest.”
We all giggle. She has wild curls the color of fiery red. But to me, they’re stunning. I could trade my straight hair for hers any day.
Autumn says, “I’m damn sure there are many girls envious of your hair in your school.”
Iselyn shrugs. “Well, I don’t go to school. I’m homeschooled.”
Wen perks up. “Like my mom! You know she was also homeschooled. According to her, it was an amazing experience. How about you?”
Iselyn nods. “I’m happy with homeschooling. But sometimes I wonder how it feels to go to school, especially when I see on TV that schools are amazing.”
I snort. “There are plenty of mean girls and clingy boys in schools. These days, we’re even thinking about dropping out.”
Wen nods with a sigh. “We are so done with bitches.”
Wen stops a passing waiter and takes glasses of juice for us.
I take a long sip, but the sound of another straw scraping against an empty glass makes me glance at Iselyn. Her mouth is hanging open, her wide round eyes fixed on something behind me.
I turn my head to follow her gaze.
And then I see them.
Two tall figures—six-foot-four, maybe taller—dressed in black suits, standing with Daddy and the other men.
The spotlight of tonight’s party.
Zoan and Leo.
For a heartbeat, I forget to breathe.
What I can’t wrap my head around is how the hell they grew so tall. Leo has become impossibly broad, more than Daddy, if that’s even possible. Zoan, though less bulky, moves like a wildcat.
He moves his head, and his ice-colored, narrow eyes lock with mine. My heart stumbles and begins to race wildly. Maybe this happens to everyone when they meet their brother after two years.
But he has changed, so much more than I expected.
I never noticed it during our video calls, but now, with him standing barely fifteen feet away, the difference is undeniable.
It’s not only his height or the powerful build of his body, not just the way his dark hair is combed back.
It’s his eyes. They have hardened, their frozen color finally justified.
Zloban (16 years old)
She has grown taller, almost one foot and two inches shorter than me now, yet a full two feet taller than the last time I saw her.
Her once-round eyes have sharpened, taking the elegant shape of our mom’s.
Shoulder-length hair frames her face softly, she no longer looks like the little girl who used to cling to me and demand to sleep in my arms every night.
She is eleven now. My little sister.
After dad finishes introducing me as the heir of the Iron Veil and Nexoil, Leo and I move forward to greet the circle of our mothers and their friends.
After accepting their compliments about how handsome we’ve become, we finally step toward our sisters.
Avira throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly.
Wen is already introducing Leo to Iselyn, commenting on how much he has changed, but their words blur into background noise. My entire focus is consumed, captured, shackled by the warmth of the small figure in my arms.
For the first time in years, the endless stream of data that lives in my head about air pressure, wind speed, humidity, temperature falls utterly silent. All that remains is her body heat enveloping me like a living sanctuary.
“I missed you,” she mutters into my chest.
“I missed you too,” I tell her the fact.
She pulls away, but her warmth still lingers on my body. Her eyes study me up and down before she pouts, “Why did you grow so tall? My neck will start hurting every time I talk to you.”
I bend at the waist until my face is level with hers. “Is it better now?”
Her grin spreads wide, and she nods. “Yes, but you can’t stay bent like this the whole day.”
If it were something that made her happy, then yes, I could. It’s that simple.
Before I can answer, Wen steps in and hugs me tightly, forcing me to straighten. I rest a hand on her back and pat.
“Will you start school again?” Wen asks.
I shake my head. In our school, everyone learns at their own pace.
There are no grades or fixed classes, just one base level where we’re taught the essentials like reading, writing, and reasoning.
After that, we’re free to choose whatever we want to study.
Some finish early, some take longer. Leo and I completed our entire education before we started training under Pa.
Now we’ll start working with Dad and Uncle, while also working toward our own goals.
She groans. “We’ve been boasting about you and Leo to literally everyone we know. Do you even realize how many people have become your fans already?”
Avira nods in agreement. “Yes, and they’re all desperate to meet you both.”
Wen’s grin sharpens. “Avi talks about you to every single person she meets. She’s told Travis so much about you that he’s practically waiting to take your autograph.”
My brows knit together. “Who is Travis?”
Wen’s grin only widens. “Didn’t Avi tell you?”
Avira rolls her eyes. “He’s nothing important.”
Wen bumps her elbow into Avi’s arm with a sly look. “If he’s nothing important, then why do you spend your entire lunch break talking to him? You can’t hide it, Avi. You like him.”
My frown deepens. My sister is spending her time with a boy.
Avira groans in annoyance. “That’s because he’s too clingy. I only talk about Zoan so he’ll get scared and stop trying to bother me.”
Before I can get more details, Iselyn pulls my attention away from their bickering. She steps closer and wraps her arms around me in a light hug.
“Hello, Zo,” she says brightly.
I pat her head. “Hello, Lyn.”
When she pulls back, her lips tilt into a mischievous smile, her voice dropping so that only I can hear. “Why did you never tell me Matleon is so handsome?”
She glances toward Leo, who is standing a few feet away, talking with Kaz, Zen, and Autumn. Her eyes return to me.
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
“You’re too young to be thinking about his girlfriend.”
She lifts her chin. “After ten years, I’ll marry him. Until then, it’s your responsibility to keep him away from girls.”
I arch a brow. “And what if he doesn’t want that?”
A smirk curls her lips. “I’m a Mikhailov. I get what I like. And I like Matleon.”
After a long, cold shower, I walk into the closet.
My old clothes are gone, replaced with new ones perfectly tailored to my size—that’s Mom’s doing.
But then something catches my eye, a splash of yellow among the muted colors.
A quiet smile tugs at my lips. She must have fought with Mom to buy those.
I pull out a yellow T-shirt printed with cartoon figures and put it on. After hanging the towel back in the bathroom, I lie down on the bed.
As soon as my mind stops calculating every detail of the party, it returns to the single piece of information I had buried the moment it reached my ears.
Travis.
And why he is clinging to my sister.
My imagination keeps conjuring the image of a blond boy her age, talking with her, making her laugh, sharing ice cream. Each picture cuts like a knife, and not one of them sits well with me.
Does this happen to every brother? This strange, scorching burn in the chest?
But I can’t deceive myself the way I deceive everyone else. The truth is clear. The fact that I’m her brother has nothing to do with what I’m feeling.
And I hate it. I hate all of this. Because it’s wrong.
So very wrong.
A soft knock sounds on my door.
Knowing exactly what I’m feeling, and knowing all too well how wrong it is, I still rise from the bed as quickly as I can. Within six seconds I reach the door and pull it open.
She’s standing there in yellow pajamas, a wide grin blooming across her face.
“You’re wearing Tokayo’s T-shirt!” she squeals, coming inside before I can respond, shutting the door behind her.
“Who is Tokayo?”
She runs her small hands over the cartoon characters printed across my chest and stomach. “Tokayo is a cartoon. These are Tokayo’s friends—Mili, Dia, and Wanti. I love Tokayo. I also have matching pajamas.” Her amber eyes flick up to mine, gleaming. “Do you want me to wear them?”
I shake my head. “It’s already late. Go to sleep.”
She pushes me aside and moves to my bed with a grin. “I’ll sleep here.”
I shakes my head. “You’re not a child anymore. Go to your bed and sleep there.”
“I’m five years younger than you,” she counters with a pout. “That still makes me a child compared to you. And there’s nothing wrong with me sleeping in your bed.”
I walk over and sit on the mattress, but before I can argue further she grabs my arm, her small fingers curling around my bicep. With surprising insistence she tugs until I let her drag me down beside her.
She immediately wraps an arm around my shoulders, resting her head against one. “You’ve grown so much, Zoan. I can’t even reach all the way around you anymore.”
Her hand slides down, curling over my chest. “Even here, you’re so hard… and broad.”
She presses her cheek against my chest and wraps her arms around my waist. “You’ve become a thick, hard pillow. My neck will start aching.”
“Then sleep on a pillow,” I murmur.
She tilts her head up, glaring at me. “You don’t love me anymore.”
I close my eyes. “Stop talking nonsense and sleep.”
She scoffs under her breath. “You only know how to order people around.”
A small smile tugs at my lips.
Thirty-eight minutes and fifty seconds later, her breathing evens out. I wait in silence, counting every second until the fortieth minute.
I carefully move her arm aside and rise from the bed. I unlock my room door first, then hers, before returning to lift her into my arms.
After tucking her into her own bed, I lower myself onto the floor beside her.
For a long moment, I watch her sleep, the faint flutter of her closed eyelids, the glow of moonlight on her cheeks.
She is the most calming sight my eyes have ever known, but I also know this serenity won’t last forever. In a few years, everything will change.