The Year of the Tiger (Book 3 of The Almair Series) (Completed)

Chapter 43

I licked my lips and knocked on my older brother's door. I knew that he was inside his room and wondered if he would be able to answer the burning questions that I had, more importantly, what Wisters were and why one would take a sudden interest in me.

John opened the door and opened his mouth to say something. He closed it when he caught my look and looked down to notice the bag that I was holding. He looked rather grave for some reason as he looked back up at me.

"Can I come in?" I asked as my twin moved to my side. I glanced down and scowled at him. "Go, Brody," I said, and he scowled. "This doesn't concern you."

"This doesn't concern you," he mocked, rolling his eyes. He narrowed his eyes, and I narrowed mine. "What are you hiding?"

"A lot," I replied. "When I can, I will explain it to, but for now, I need to talk to my brother on my own."

Brody scowled. "Fine," he said. He huffed and started to walk towards my room. "I am going outside and mope."

"That is the wrong way," I called.

"I know, but I am tired. I am going to claim your boyfriend and bed and sleep."

I rolled my eyes and looked at my older brother, who was watching us amused. "So, can I come in?"

John nodded his head and moved out of my way. His face was an unreadable mask, his lips pressed in a thin line not hidden by the beard that he had worn for months.

I sat down at his desk and spun the chair around to face my older brother as he sat down on the bed after he had closed the door.

"Well?" John asked, leaning forward. He stared at me expectantly, his eyes searching my face as if he were trying to find the secrets I had.

"What are Wisters?" I asked bluntly. "And, how come you looked like you were in pain when you saw my bag?"

John leaned back a bit and sighed. He moved a hand across his face as he thought about his answer; his eyes glazing over.

"I understand if you can't tell me everything," I said, breaking him from his thoughts. "I just want to know the gist."

John chuckled and nodded his head. "Of course, Almair," he said, and I scowled when he used my title. He licked his lips and sighed. "Wisters are like Warlocks, Wizards, or Witches," he said, softly. "The only difference is that they can sometimes see the future and are more attuned with the nature around them. Also, they don't use wands, and some use staff."

"Can they heal people?" I asked. "Or, bring people back from the brink of death?"

"Some," John replied. "Why?"

I smiled sadly and shook my head. "I don't know if I am not allowed to tell you or not," I said, honestly.

John nodded his head. "I think that you have met someone that I know," he said, and I raised an eyebrow. "He calls himself... Hermes?"

I shifted in my seat and kept silent. I had no idea how John knew Hermes, but I had a feeling that it had to do with the fact that he knew him as well.

"I was in love with a Wister once," he said, finally, probably knowing that I wasn't either going to confirm or deny his comment. He sighed and stood before walking to his closet. His whole body was tense, and I could tell that he was debating with himself about something that had to do with his past.

I watched as he opened the door and knelt to the ground. I wasn't that surprised when he tossed a piece of carpet into the room, having made a secret spot of my own in the closet in my room.

John came back out with a small box clutched in his hands. His face was grave as he walked over to me, his steps unsure and hesitant. "Here," he said, handing it to me.

I took the box from him and traced the symbol on it, furrowing my brows. "I have seen this before," I said. "Twice."

"Don't think about it," John said, noticing the pained look on my face. He frowned, and I could tell that he was concerned about me. I don't think you are supposed to even know about it."

"Hermes said I am not," I replied. I sighed and moved a hand across my face, feeling exhausted. Today had been stressful, and all I wanted to do was fall asleep. However, I knew that I had to get some more information, maybe see why he had hidden his girlfriend from us, especially from me.

John hummed, and I knew that he nodded his head. "Open it," he said. His voice was soft and hesitant as if he had no idea what I was going to say, to do. His whole body was rather tense as if he was waiting for me to get mad at him.

I took in a deep breath and let it out before opening the box. A small gasp escaped my mouth as I saw the first thing in there, which was a picture of a beautiful female lying sprawled out on a picnic blanket and looking at the camera.

Her blonde hair was shimmering in the setting sun, looking rather golden than it would in normal light. Her gray eyes, looking so familiar yet so different, stared at the camera with such warmth that it was hard not to fall in love with them. Her pink lips were curved into a soft smile as she stared at the camera, and I had a feeling that she was looking at my brother as he took her picture.

"That i- was my girlfriend, my mate," John said, and I looked at him. He was staring at the picture, a look of loss and guilt, filling his eyes. His eyes were filled with tears, and it took my breath away because I had never really seen him cry. His voice cracked when he spoke, and he cleared it as he held out his hand for the picture.

I stayed silent as I handed it to him, waiting for him to say something, anything.

He placed the picture to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes before he opened them and pulling away. "That," he said, running his fingers across it. "That is Adeline." His voice cracked when he said her name, and he cleared his throat. "And, she was my first and my only love."