It was quiet in the keep, eerily so. It was the silence before the storm.

All of the servants and day guards retired for the night, only a few souls left awake to keep watch - and her. Aerion's most favorite sister. She had grown used to his nightly visits, he assumed, even though she tried to feign sleep. Her slumber had never stopped him before, and she was a fool to believe otherwise.

The windows in her chambers were left open, and moonlight filtered in through the sheer curtains. The blankets had been pulled all the way up to her chin, as if mere fabric could shield her, and her silver hair seemed to glow in the soft light. The chill of the night could not cool the fire in his blood, or the heat of his skin as he looked upon her. His sister knew he was there.

She was a meek thing, too obedient. She had been shaped by their father's rough hands and sharp words. It made her so vulnerable, so emotional. He remembered when they were little, when she had no one to turn to but him. Daeron was only a drunken fool, but Aerion had embraced her with open arms. His hold had been to firm, too possessive, but she had been too frightened to pull away.

Aerion watched her often, like this, standing in the corner and masked by the shadows as she lay beneath silk and furs. But watching had never been enough for the prince. A dragon was made to claim what was his.

His footsteps, measured and controlled, were quiet in the stillness of her room. He could hear the small shift in her breaths, the way the air hitched in her throat. A smirk tugged on his full lips, and the mattress dipped beneath his weight.

Aerion slipped beneath the blankets, feeling the rush of her body heat through the thin fabric of his sleep tunic. He noticed the way her delicate frame trembled. His hands, rough and calloused and wicked, found the soft plane of her back. The silk of her nightgown was smooth beneath his touch, and she whimpered as his hands wandered to her waist. He chuckled cruelly.

"Hush, sweet sister," Aerion whispered, his voice like poisoned honey. His breath was warm against the shell of her ear, and he yanked her back into his chest.