Had he ever been asked to compare his sister to something, Jacob would have picked anything he considered beautiful and deadly. A poisonous flower, perhaps. Or an expertly poured ale being thrown directly at his head. The combination made him weak at the knees.
Asked the same thing of her brother, Evie would have dismissed the question as ridiculous. Secretly, though, she would have been unable to stop herself from imagining an unruly dog. The kind that continually poops on the rug, and yet, you can't stay mad at.
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