Forbidden: My Stepbrother, My Mate

Ella. 

I was reorganizing my bookshelf when Dad texted me to come home early. No explanation, just "important news" and a smiley face emoji he definitely didn't choose himself, my dad didn't do emojis.

I clocked out of the bookstore twenty minutes early, drove home trying to guess what this was about. Maybe he finally got that promotion. 

There was a car in our driveway that I didn't recognize.

I parked on the street and walked up to find Dad pacing in the living room. There was a woman on the couch. Blonde, pretty, with a nervous smile. And next to her, a guy about my age.

The moment I walked through the door, everything stopped.

Not literally. Dad was still talking, the woman was standing up to greet me, but I couldn't hear any of it because there was this…this pull in my chest. Like someone had tied a string around my heart and yanked.

The guy was staring at me. Dark hair, sharp jawline, eyes that looked almost gold in the light. He had gone completely still, hands clenched on his knees.

"Ella!" Dad's voice cut through the fog. "There you are. Come meet Elena and her son, Kyle."

Kyle. His name was Kyle.

I managed to walk forward and shake Elena's hand. She was warm, chatty, and said something about how wonderful it was to finally meet me. I nodded, smiled, and had no idea what I was agreeing to.

Kyle didn't stand up. He didn't offer his hand. Just watched me with an expression I couldn't read, somewhere between shock and horror.

"Kyle," Elena said sharply. "Manners."

He stood slowly, like it took effort. When he extended his hand, I saw it was shaking.

Our fingers touched.

The pull became a wave. Heat spread up my arm, through my chest, settling low in my stomach. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't do anything except feel this impossible connection to a complete stranger.

I pulled my hand back fast. Kyle's jaw clenched, eyes flashing something that definitely wasn't normal.

"Sit, sit," Dad said, oblivious. "We have news."

I sat in the armchair across from them, as far from Kyle as possible. It didn't help. I could still feel him, like a magnetic field I couldn't escape.

"Elena and I have been dating for six months," Dad started.

I blinked. Six months? He had never mentioned her. Never mentioned anyone since Mom died three years ago.

"We didn't want to say anything until we were sure," Elena added gently. "But we are. Sure, I mean."

Kyle was staring at his hands now, breathing carefully. I noticed he wasn't eating the cookies Elena had brought, and wasn't drinking the coffee Dad had made. Just sitting there, rigid.

"We've decided to move in together," Dad finished. "Next month. Elena and Kyle are moving in here."

"What?" My voice came out strangled.

"I know it's sudden," Dad said quickly. "But we think it'll be good for everyone. You'll have a sibling, someone your own age…"

"Stepsibling," I said automatically.

Kyle flinched.

"Right, stepsibling," Dad corrected. "We thought you two could get to know each other before the move. Maybe Kyle could show you around his school? He's transferring to Lincoln High on Monday."

My school. He was transferring to my school.

"That's great," I heard myself say. "Really great."

Elena beamed. Dad looked relieved. Kyle looked like he wanted to put his fist through a wall.

Dinner was worse.

Dad ordered pizza, clearly proud of himself for this whole surprise family situation. Elena kept up a cheerful conversation about the move, about combining households, about how exciting this was.

I couldn't focus on anything except Kyle.

Every time he moved, I felt it. Every time he breathed, I was aware of it. When he reached for his water glass, my own hand twitched like I wanted to, what? Touch him? This was insane.

And he was doing the same thing. I'd catch him staring, then he'd look away fast, jaw tight. Once, our parents mentioned that we would share the upstairs bathroom, and we both went rigid.

"Brother and sister," Elena said warmly. "Isn't that wonderful?"

Kyle made a sound like he was choking.

I excused myself to the bathroom.

I splashed cold water on my face, stared at myself in the mirror. My pupils were dilated, cheeks flushed, hands shaking. What was wrong with me? Was I having a panic attack? Some kind of medical emergency?

The bathroom door opened.

I spun around. Kyle stood in the doorway, blocking the exit.

"You feel it," he said. Not a question.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your heartbeat. It's racing. You can't stop looking at me. You feel the pull."

How did he know my heartbeat was racing? How could he possibly…

"Maybe I'm just sick," I said.

He stepped closer. The bathroom was tiny, barely enough room for one person, let alone two. He filled the space, tall and broad and radiating heat that made my skin prickle.

"You're not sick," he said quietly. "You're my mate."

I laughed. Couldn't help it. "You're what?"

"I'm a werewolf." His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "And you're my mate. And in four weeks, we're going to be living in the same house."

I laughed again, but it died when his eyes flashed. Actually flashed, gold light where his irises should be.

I stumbled backward and hit the sink. "That's not…that's not possible."

"I know." He sounded miserable. "Believe me, I know."

"Werewolves aren't real."

"They are. I am." He held up his hand, and I watched claws extend from his fingertips. Real claws, sharp and deadly. "And you're my mate. My wolf knows it. I know it. And you know it too, even if you don't understand why."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't process this. Werewolves. Mates. Those were things from books, from movies, not from real life. Not from my life.

"This can't happen," Kyle said, more to himself than me. "We can't…our parents are getting married. We're going to be family."

"Stepsiblings," I whispered.

"It doesn't matter what we call it. We can't be together." He stepped back, running his hand through his hair. "I'll fix this. I'll figure something out."

"Kyle?" Elena's voice called from downstairs. "Where did you go?"

"I have to…" He gestured helplessly at the door. "Just. Pretend this didn't happen."

He left.

I gripped the sink, my legs shaking. In the mirror, I looked the same as I had five minutes ago, but everything had changed.

Werewolves were real.

And I was mated to one.

I went back downstairs and then sat through the rest of dinner, nodding and smiling while Dad and Elena talked about paint colors and furniture arrangements. Kyle wouldn't look at me. I couldn't stop looking at him.

When they finally left, Elena hugged me. "I'm so glad we'll be a family."

Kyle stood by the door, hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry," he said, so quietly only I could hear. "I'll fix this."

Then they were gone.

I collapsed on the couch, Dad chattering happily about how well that went, how nice Elena was, how good it would be to have people in the house again.

I wasn't listening.

Because the pull was still there. Like a string tied around my heart, tugging toward wherever Kyle had gone. Even with him miles away, I could feel him.

This was real. All of it.

And I had no idea what to do.