His Name Is Kenai: Now I Own You, Little Sister

SHANNON.

It was already past midnight when I felt the usual airless, skin-pickling shift in atmosphere that made every hair on my body rise as though the air itself had teeth.

I tried to ignore it. God knows I tried. But some instincts never lie, and mine was screaming.

That sensation always felt like I was being hunted in the dark.

I flicked on the lights, one by one… Bedroom. Bathroom. Hallway. Anything to chase away the fear that was eating me away. This was my usual routine whenever it started, even when I knew I'd still see nothing. And just as I predicted... Nothing.

The room looked normal.

But it didn't feel normal.

George was out of town again.

Ever since the company was sold to that new mystery owner, he'd barely been home.

Our new employer seemed to have a personal hobby of sending George out for last-minute meetings and hush-hush "executive handshakes." That's what he called them.

George and I worked in the same company – The Dial. Five months ago, the company was sold to a new owner who still hadn't come to make himself known to his staff yet. But I heard he might finally make himself known to everyone in two days.

He was an expensive mystery.

I couldn't wait to meet the man who stole my husband away six days out of seven.

Whoever he was, I hated him already.

But who were we to complain?

My phone was dead. I quickly plugged it in, but it didn't respond.

Oh, God.

How do I call 911?

I stood up and rushed to the closet to get another charger, and that's when I saw the closet door —it was cracked open. Barely enough to matter. But I knew I hadn't left it open. I never left it open.

"Hello?" I whispered, because I was too stupid not to. Wait. Why did I whisper? Why do women always whisper in horror stories?

There was no response.

I edged closer like the floor might collapse under me. God, one would think I was stepping on cracked ice.

I slowly reached for the handle. And when I yanked it open, I heaved a heavy sigh when I saw it was empty. There was no one there.

Panic rapidly began to set in, replacing the temporary relief I felt. I yanked the charger and shoved it into my phone, and thankfully, the screen lit up.

I desperately opened the dialer to call 911 and report that someone was in my home. I knew it was just a hunch, but today's hunch felt more like a reality.

But guess what? There was no service.

That's new.

It wasn't just strange. It was wrong. We always had a signal here.

Something was wrong. So wrong.

I tightened the hem of my nightgown around my thighs, hurriedly stepped out of bed, and made my way toward the door. As soon as I pulled the door open, I bumped into something... Hard. Cold. Alive.

It was someone.

A man.

Tall, huge, broad-chested. Dressed in black from head to toe. His chest was like steel under thin fabric.

My heart jumped out of my mouth instantly. I let out a gasp that barely made it past my lips before his hand shot out, faster than I could react, clamping my mouth shut.

And then, before I'd look at the face of whoever this intruder was, he spun me around so hard I felt dizzy by the time my back hit his chest.

I screamed, but it was muffled by his palm, and then his breath was at my ear.

"You used to hide in this closet when Dad got loud. Remember that?"

His voice. That voice.

So hot. So familiar. So terrifying.

I kicked, bit, and whimpered. But he didn't budge.

Panic turned to nausea, making it difficult for me to breathe.

This must be a nightmare. I'd had such vivid nightmares before. This had to be one of them.

"You smell the same," he whispered. "You feel the same."

"Let me go!" I cried, but it was muffled.

It all started to get blurry. A dizzying sensation slowly took over me, and an overwhelming sleepiness got hold of me. But before my eyes closed shut, the mirror across the room caught our reflection. And then I saw his face.

I knew that face.

That jaw. Those eyes. That scar just beneath his lip.

...It was him.

Kenai.

My stepbrother.

He was back. And he was back for me.