Although the first five years of Kyria’s life were spent in a small seaside town in Greece, her earliest memories were of picnics by the pool, rollercoaster drives in the desert, and countless cozy dinners at home. In these memories her family was complete, and by this she didn’t just mean her parents. The Al-Atassis were there, too, all four of them. The two families were inseparable in those days, and because she was too young to understand the difference between commoners and royalty, Kyria hadn’t seen anything wrong or strange in it. At that time, all she knew was that she was happy and loved. Everywhere she looked, there was laughter and kindness to be found. And of course, love – lots and lots of it.

There was such love in everyone’s hearts that when her parents passed away and Hadwin and Vanna had told seven-year-old Kyria they would take care of her, she had believed them. Despite her pain and loneliness, despite the grief that tore at her heart but her young mind couldn’t quite grasp, one thing she had not been was afraid. The Al-Atassis were family, and so there was nothing to be afraid of. She was not alone because she had family.

Growing up, the Al-Atassis sought to shield Kyria with their wealth and power. No one was allowed to speak to her without an Al-Atassi present, and those who dared to comment on her inclusion in the royal family were severely dealt with.

It worked, but only for a time.

Some things in life a person must inevitably learn to face…it was one of Hadwin’s favorite things to quote to his children, and so it was for all of them, and that included Kyria. As her life gradually extended beyond the walls of the palace, her world became bigger but darker, and she soon learned that things weren’t always what they were made out to be. Her position as Vanna Al-Atassi’s legal ward was one coveted by many, and more often than not people she trusted turned out to be nothing but frauds, wanting to get close to her because they either wanted to use or hurt the royal family.

Girls who were supposed to be her friends, boys who supposedly wanted to date her, teachers who should have had her best interests in their hearts – all of them eventually showed their true colors, and with each betrayal Kyria found herself withdrawing further and further until she could no longer remember how to lower her guard.

In her quest to protect the royal family from being taken advantage of, Kyria had trained herself to watch her words, to swallow her pride rather than make waves. It might make her appear like a coward in other people’s eyes, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was not bringing shame to the royal family, and thus her image as a quiet little mouse of a woman came to be, with Kyria only coming alive and letting go of herself when in the company of her family. Only with them did she allow herself to smile and speak her mind, to take risks and make mistakes. Only with them did her love pour out, her devotion to them fierce and unwavering. She had already lost so many of her loved ones at an early age, and she would do whatever was needed not to lose another one again.

For Kyria, nothing was more important than seeing her family happy and keeping it that way. It was her goal, her reason for living, and for the most part keeping them happy was fairly easy to figure out. To please Altair, she did her best to excel in school. To please Vanna, she obeyed all the rules that went with the palace’s restrictive lifestyle. With those two, what she needed to do was clear-cut.

Unfortunately, it was the complete opposite with Malik.

The youngest Al-Atassi sheikh was her most favorite person in the world, and for as long as she could remember, Malik was always there to be what she needed.

As a child, she would be playing alone in her room, and just as loneliness struck, he would appear by the doorway with his usual lazy grin, asking if her afternoon tea party had room for one more. She would be quietly struggling with her homework, and just when she was about to give up, he would come knocking on the door and pop his head in. Need a tutor? And when she found herself missing her parents, he would be there to take her in his arms, and he always knew the right thing to say. You can cry, Ky. It doesn’t mean you love us less or love them more. You cry simply because you love them.

He was her everything, really, and it was for this reason that her inability to be of use to Malik troubled her so. Because she had never thought to keep anything secret from him, Malik knew everything there was to know about her. In contrast, the passage of time only showed her how she knew so little of him, and no matter what she did or said, Malik seemed hell-bent on keeping a part of himself out of her reach.

Countless times, she would glimpse loneliness in his eyes, haunting and devastating in its depth, and it always made her want to cry. Why was he lonely? Was there nothing she could do to make him happy? Was there nothing he needed of her?

There were days when she would despair, thinking that she would never find the answers to these questions.

But she did, eventually, and the answers changed her world for good.

* * *

Love, the romantic kind, was something she never cared to think of. Kyria herself didn’t quite understand why this was so, but knowing that it could only cause her family to worry, she simply made herself go through the motions. She pretended to like the same boys the other girls in school liked and said yes every time she was invited to be someone’s date to a prom. She found it utterly bothersome, to be honest, but she also knew better than to speak the truth, not even to Malik. The Al-Atassis took their responsibilities so seriously that if they realized she had zero interest in having a relationship, she knew they’d blame themselves for it. She knew they would think that they had done something wrong in raising her, when ironically it was the opposite. They had done everything right, had made her life so perfect, that Kyria simply didn’t see any reason why she’d need another man in her life.

If she were ever to like someone that way, he would have to compare to both her brothers, and she honestly didn’t think that was possible. Who could be stronger than Altair, kinder and wiser than Malik? And of course they had to be as extraordinarily handsome as the two, too. In truth, the only men who could hold a candle to them were the other Al-Atassi sheikhs – and they didn’t count since she looked upon them as brothers as well.

The more she thought about it, the more she believed it probable she would lead a spinster’s life, and she didn't mind at all. She could already envision it, her keeping Vanna company at the palace while they doted on the beautiful children that Altair and Malik would eventually sire.

It was a good life.

But it was not to be.

* * *

If love was something she spared a thought about once in a blue moon, sex was something Kyria never really thought of at all. She knew of course what went down, knew that her brothers were no saints who didn’t indulge in it. She was curious about it, but she was also all too conscious about the possible consequences. She would rather die a virgin than risk becoming a disgrace to her family, and this led to Kyria developing a reputation for being somewhat of a prude, despite her going out on dates with other guys.

Another thing she became known for in school was her closeness to the Al-Atassi sheikhs. With every year that passed, more and more girls pestered her for any information she could dish out on them, and on her graduation day, the girls in her class were practically down on their knees begging for a souvenir photo of the sheikhs.

In the end, she could only promise a compromise: she would mail them photos only if the sheikhs themselves allowed her to do so. And when pressed to clarify, she said yes to photos of Khalil, Tarif, Rayyan, and Altair. But somehow, she just couldn’t make herself agree to mailing them photos of Malik. Maybe it was because he was her favorite brother, but Kyria just hated the thought of any of the other girls having his photo to moon over. However, she also knew she was being unreasonable and so when the girls had demanded for an explanation, a rattled Kyria spoke rashly of things she hoped would turn them off.

She told the girls Malik was an incurable playboy, but this only made the other girls’ eyes shine even brighter, as if attracted even more to the idea of falling for a bad boy. Desperate now, she then told them that Malik was far from being photogenic, and surprisingly the ploy had worked. The girls had quickly lost interest in having Malik’s photo. What was the point if he wouldn’t look good in it?

It was altogether an unexpected victory, and although she later on had to beg for Malik’s forgiveness upon realizing that he had heard her say all those dreadful things about him, Kyria couldn’t make herself regret it. She still did not want those girls to have his photo. As for the reason why, however, well…

He’s my favorite brother, Kyria told herself firmly. That was all it could be.

When her family asked her what she wanted as a high school graduation gift, Kyria had only thing in mind. She wanted to camp under the stars, the sand soft on her feet. She wanted to listen to the desert’s sounds blend with the crackling of a bonfire. She wanted to be with her family, just them, like the way they used to.

Her wish had come an obvious shock to everyone, but since the Al-Atassis had always wanted to spoil Kyria, their agreement was a foregone conclusion, and the family left for the desert the next day. Malik and Altair grumbled throughout their long and arduous walk, Vanna sighed and grimaced during the bumpy camel ride, but Kyria had only laughed, knowing they were just fooling around. The truth was in their eyes, all of them. They had missed this, too.

On their first night, Kyria had gone to her own tent, sleepy and pleasantly tired, and already looking forward to what tomorrow would bring. But then she heard rustling outside their tent, remembered the scary scenes from a horror movie she had recently watched, and she had run into Malik’s tent like a headless chicken.

Can I sleep here, please? These were words she would never even consider saying to either Vanna or Altair. It wasn’t that she loved them any less, but it just didn’t feel right to trouble them more than she had already done. But Malik was different. She could tell Malik anything, be herself with him and not worry about what he would think. If there was anything she needed, she knew she could always count on Malik, and that night wasn’t any different.

With his solid presence next to her, fears were instantly vanquished, and her last thoughts before sleep claimed her were of him, her dearest and beloved Malik. And in her dreams, he was there, her most precious brother. But when morning came, Kyria woke up to the sudden, terrifying realization that Malik wasn’t just that.

Before being a brother or even a powerful sheikh, Malik was above all…a man.

A man with a man’s body, as hard as hers was soft, powerful and big, rough and hot---

And at that moment, Malik’s body was wrapped around hers like a man would hold his woman.

Time stopped, her world spinning out of control and turning upside down.

Malik was her brother, so why was the feel of him suddenly making her burn?

Her brother, and oh Servant of God, all she could think of was how hard his body was.

Kyria squeezed her eyes shut, but it only made things worse, the images flashing in her mind so shockingly erotic---

Malik kissing her, touching her, fucking her---

She had never thought of such things before. Never. And yet now, she could think of it so easily it was as if those thoughts had always been with her, almost as if she always had the soul of a wanton in her, and prurience ran in her blood like it was her destiny.

The thought shamed and appalled her, her body instinctively recoiling from self-loathing, and the moment she did, Malik’s body moved behind her.

AH!

Kyria’s lips parted in a soundless gasp as she felt his cock growing hard against her ass.

Pull away, her mind screamed. Pull away now!

But she could not.

Something forbidden from within had taken her captive, rendering her body immobile. A dangerous haze of sensation blurred her gaze, and the violent drumming beat of her heart filled her ears. Her lips felt dry for no reason, and oh, how she burned. Every inch of her body felt ablaze with fire, making her want to writhe---

And that was when she felt it.

Malik starting to move behind her, and her lips parted in a soundless moan as he started rubbing his cock against her. His hands squeezed the cheeks of her ass, and she almost let out a sob. One arm went around her body, and her throat locked.

Oh God.

His hand slid down her body.

Stop him, for the love of all things holy, stop him!

But she could not make herself move, and so his hand continued on its path, its caressing fingers unimpeded. Lower and lower it went, and harder and harder it became for Kyria to breathe---

And finally, his fingers stopped---

On that place she realized she had both feared and hoped he would touch---

Her flesh pulsed under his fingers, soft and swollen, and oh so wet. She was so horrifyingly, shockingly wet that suddenly everything felt too much, and a whimper tore past her lips. The sound shattered the silence, ripping through the dangerous web that sleep and unconscious desires had woven about their minds and bodies.

They sprang apart, Kyria rising up in clumsy haste while Malik’s powerful form tensed like someone had pointed a gun at him. She turned to look at the sheikh, and the sickened expression on his beautiful face made her feel faint and dizzy. She didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t know how to feel about it---

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“O-of course,” she managed to say even as his apology made her shiver for some reason.

His jaw tightening, Malik asked curtly, “Did I frighten you?”

Kyria’s lips parted, but no words came out. What could she say when she still didn’t understand what had happened? Without meeting his gaze, she whispered, “I think I should go.” A part of her was dying to be alone, to have some time and space to make sense of things. But the other larger part of her…wanted something else. It wanted to hear Malik say he wanted her to stay, to tell her…

“I think you should.”

Kyria rushed out of his tent without another word, her head lowered to keep him from seeing her tears. Even now, she still didn’t know what she wanted him to say, but she also knew it no longer mattered.

Malik’s words had made it very clear what he wanted, and because she only lived to do what he wanted, then that was how it should be.