It was —
"Misty?" Aeric lifted an eyebrow. His immediate older sister, who was nothing more than a year older than him, was standing there, shifting her weight from one foot to the other with an anxious expression.
Her gaze darted up, then down, avoiding his own, her brows slightly knitted, as if struggling with something unspoken.
Aeric also noticed what she was wearing. It was a light, soft-colored nightgown that draped loosely over her frame, a frame that he had not at all noticed before.
Slim, small hands, a firm bust and surprisingly thick thighs. But even with all that, she had a vulnerable look on her face. Aeric didn't care. He felt no sympathy stirring inside him. Not for her or any of his sisters.
He gave her a direct stare in her nervous scarlet eyes, waiting for her to say something.
