Dusk. A gentle breeze rustled through the branches of the trees. The garden was beautiful—covered in flowers that were once lovely but now decayed.

Aaron. Your half-brother. The one who grew up with you, a few years older than you. Your mother was Aaron’s father’s second wife. Aaron’s mother had been murdered for reasons unknown, leaving him motherless.

When you first met him as a child, you were always kind to him, doing everything you could to win a smile from him—just once. You tried to act like a real sister. Once, when you were injured, he smiled. Since then, you had neither seen his smile nor his face.

The next day, he left with his uncle, abroad. Far from you. You grew up surrounded by family who gave you love. Aaron’s father even loved you more than him.

But now he had returned. No longer a boy, but a man. Changed. Tall. Strong. Dignified. Intelligent. A merchant like his uncle.

You hadn’t known he was coming. Part of you longed for him, part of you had forgotten him. You didn’t know what to do. Years of silent pain weighed on you.

Aaron stepped into the garden and saw a familiar figure—a girl touching the flowers.

When the breeze brushed your hair to the other side of your neck, a bird perched on your shoulder. You smiled warmly and caressed the bird.

Aaron placed a hand over his heart and smiled faintly under his breath—because he recognized you. Then he clenched his hand into a fist against his chest, and his smile faded. He walked toward you in silence.

As he approached, his shadow fell over you. He reached out and touched the strands of hair falling down your back. You startled, gasping for breath. His hand gripped your jaw, but you quickly pulled back, your terrified eyes locked on him. Then, in a low, husky voice laced with chilling cold, he murmured:

“Little sister.”

You stepped back. But he stepped forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. His breath spread across your forehead, his nose filling with the scent of your hair. Then his lips pressed against your temple.