I wouldn’t be able to breathe, and my heart would break, impossible anger tearing me to shreds.

I lay in bed with Talia, my eyes wide open and my arms wrapped around her small waist. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t want to rest and have the dreams come back. I didn’t want them in my head. I had no idea what they meant but knew they made Talia cry.

She would always cry. When I didn’t understand what she wanted me to do, her eyes would fill with tears. She would look at me with her big brown eyes and go quiet.

I didn’t like her crying. My stomach would tighten and my chest would burn. I liked her smiling and when her lips would show her teeth. I liked the mole on her lower left cheek and when her long blond hair would lay over one shoulder. When she would stare at me, her cheeks flushing red. When she would put her hand on my face and cool my scolding blood. I liked it when she stroked my long hair, and when she kissed my lips, her tongue pushing inside my mouth.

I liked being with her, and not being with Master. I liked being free with Talia, in this protected house.

But my favorite was how she made me feel. How fast my heart would beat when she lay with me. How I could breathe when she held my hand, her thumb stroking the back of my hand.

And fucking her, though it was different from all the times before. It wasn’t the same with her as it was with Master’s females. I looked into her eyes. Her hand would stroke my back, then rake through my hair. It was slow. It meant something to me. When we were together I felt full. I only ever remember feeling numb and empty; killing and fucking for Master. Talia made me feel alive. There was no man in a white coat injecting me and making me feel nothing but rage. There was just Talia, and she was all I wanted.

Talia moved in my arms, her face coming into view. I drank in her face and my chest seemed to grow bigger. Her face looked peaceful as she slept. Her big eyes were closed, but still beautiful. Her little nose twitched as she dreamed. Her pink lips parted as she slowly breathed in and out, in and out.

I was tired. I fought the pull of sleep, but with Talia’s soothing breathing and warm touch against my body, my eyelids won the battle to close. As I drifted off, I held her to my chest, refusing to let her go.…

I lay in the sun by the stream. I loved being outside. I loved the feel of the sun on my face, of the birds singing in the trees.

I heard footsteps crunching the long grass behind me, and suddenly the sun was blocked from my face. I knew who it was, and I didn’t even open my eyes as I felt him before me. “Move,” I said. A foot kicked my leg. A laugh tore from my brother’s throat and I felt him drop down to lie beside me.

“You’re always out here,” he said. I rolled my head to the side and opened my eyes. His face, identical to mine, was looking right at me.

I shrugged. “I like the sun. I like the warmth. I hate the darkness. If I could live in forever sunshine, I would.”

My brother nodded with a smirk on his face, then looked up at the clouds in the sky. We were always together, him and I. Wherever he went, I went. Mama used to say we were a team, better together than we’d ever be apart.

“Papa’s called a meeting today,” he said. I closed my eyes. “He wants us to be with him. He’s meeting with the men from Kutaisi. They’re all coming here.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “I don’t want to go.” I thought of the head of that clan. “The man, the leader always stares at us. He makes me feel strange. I hate him.”

My brother was silent for a moment, then said, “I feel like that around him, too.”

I snapped my eyes open and turned to my side. My brother did the same, the two of us lying on our sides so we could talk. “You do?” I whispered.

“Yes. He … he makes shivers go down my spine.”

I took a deep breath and looked into my brother’s brown eyes. “I think Papa likes him.”

My brother’s eyes narrowed. “I think he does, too.”

“I don’t trust him,” I admitted. My brother reached out and laid his hand over mine.

“Nor do I.” I took a deep breath and I could feel my cheek twitch in nerves. “But we have to go. We have to become strong men to lead our clan.”

My brother released his hand and I stared at his face. “You’ll lead. You’re the oldest. You’re the heir.”

He laughed, and it made me smile. “By four minutes.”

I shrugged, but his hand squeezed mine. “No, brother. You’re my twin. Grandmama says we share strength. We’ll lead together. We will always be together. We’re stronger together. You know this.”

Losing my smile, I nodded my head. “I know. But you’ll always be my older brother to me.” My brother smiled. We both lay down on our backs.

“Papa wants us to cut our hair,” my brother said. I turned my head to face his. “I told him we liked it long. Grandmama agreed. I think we’ll be able to keep it long.” He looked over at me and smiled. “It’s long and black, like Georgian warriors of old used to wear.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “we’ll never cut it and we will always be warriors.”

“You and me,” my brother said.

“You and me,” I agreed.

“And me!” a little voice called from behind us. I smiled and rolled onto my knees. A little girl was hiding in the grass. Her long black hair stood out against the tall green grass.

My brother rolled his eyes, then closed his eyes, his face soaking in the hot sun. But I stretched up, smiled at my little sister hiding in the field.

“Mmm … did you hear something, brother?” I said, and heard my sister’s giggle from a few feet away.

My brother grunted, too busy falling asleep.

I crept forward and said aloud, “It sounded like Zoya. Didn’t you think it sounded like Zoya?” I played along.

More laughter came from just in front of me. Two brown eyes appeared in the grass, so dark they looked like darkness itself.

“Mmm … I wonder where she could be?” I said, and pretended to search the grass. When her giggles became too loud to ignore, I couldn’t help but smile. In seconds, my five-year-old sister jumped from the grass and ran straight at me. Her laughing face was the last thing I saw before she launched into my arms, knocking me back, near my brother.

My brother cracked one eye and, smirking, shook his head at my sister. Then he went back to sleep.

Zoya pulled back and her little hands pressed against my cheeks as she sat on my lap. “Sykhaara,” she said to me, using Grandmama’s pet name for me, “my sweetness,” “I came to get you. Papa wants you both home ‘now’!” I laughed as she imitated our papa’s deep voice. She laughed when I laughed. “He said some men are coming and you have to dress up and meet them. ‘You have to learn the family business’!” she imitated again, her little hands on her hips.

My brother laughed at our little sister as he stayed in his position beside us and Zoya nodded her head meaningfully. Her eyebrows pulled together and she asked, “Who are the men?”

I tapped the end of her nose. “Papa’s friends.”

“Ohhh,” she replied, “so they’re my friends, too?”

My brother this time sat up. His face was serious. “Yes, they’re your friends, but just be careful, okay, Zoya. They’re dangerous men.”