I loved my siblings. I did.
But I also firmly believed that there was a special place in the deepest, most echoing corner of the underworld for people who burst into your room after you'd barely survived a kidnapping, shouted about weddings, and jumped on your bed like tiny gremlins made of sugar and secrets.
Aeris had a voice like a silver bell that had been enchanted to cause migraines, and Arion had somehow managed to get glitter in my sheets. Glitter. In my sanctuary.
"I'm going to count to three," I said flatly, standing in my doorway in my nightgown like a very tired, very unamused warden of doom. "And if you two aren't out of my room by the time I reach one, I will personally rearrange the stars to ensure your bedtime begins at noon for the next year."
Aeris gasped. "That's illegal."
"One," I said, unimpressed.
Arion yelped and grabbed his sister's arm. "Abort! Retreat!"
