MY BROTHER IS MY MATE

The annual Moon Festival was a time for unity. A night when the Crescent Hollow pack came together under the full moon to honor peace among alphas, betas, and omegas. Bonfires were lit, drums echoed through the forest, and laughter filled the cool night air. Every pack member wore their best clothes, their best smiles, and their best masks of perfection.Everyone, except Alex.His mother had practically shoved him into a soft cream-colored shirt and pale blue jeans, fussing over his hair and appearance as though that would hide the fact that he’d just come out of his first full-blown heat the week before. Though his omega scent had finally leveled out, the memory of it—of the vulnerability, the burning need—still clung to him like smoke. He kept his eyes down, hands shoved into his pockets as he stepped into the clearing.And then he saw him.Brian.Wearing black like a second skin, his shirt hugged the defined muscles of his chest and arms. The sleeves were rolled just enough to teas

Alex sat curled up in the corner of his bed, his sketchbook forgotten on the floor. The house was quiet, except for the distant hum of the dryer and the occasional creak from the old hallway floorboards. His lips still tingled from Brian’s kiss, and his thoughts spun like a storm. He wasn’t angry. He was confused, sure, but mostly… terrified. Of what the kiss meant. Of the bond that felt too real. Of the fact that the only person who made his heart race was the one person he wasn’t supposed to want. A soft knock at his door pulled him out of his thoughts. Rachel peeked in. “Sweetheart? Can we talk?” Alex nodded silently. She entered slowly, eyes gentle. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Are you… okay? You’ve seemed… distant.” Alex’s voice cracked. “Do you believe in fate?” Rachel raised an eyebrow, then slowly nodded. “I do. It’s how I found Daniel. Why?” Alex hesitated. “If… If someone you weren’t supposed to love turned out to be the person fate chose for you, what would you do?” R

Alex knew the signs before they came. The way his skin tingled for no reason. The sudden sensitivity to touch. The way his thoughts wandered to Brian more than usual—imagining his hands, his scent, his voice low and whispering things no stepbrother should ever say. His heat was coming. He tried suppressants, but they barely dulled the edge. The bond had changed him. The pull toward his alpha—his alpha—was stronger now, more demanding. Every cell in his body called for Brian. He didn’t want to run from it anymore. So when it started—hot flashes, restless pacing, his scent growing thicker—he locked his door and called Brian. “Come here,” he said, voice shaky. “Please.” Brian didn’t ask why. He knew. He was already halfway to Alex’s room before the call ended. The scent hit him the moment he reached the second floor—sweet, rich, intoxicating. He hesitated at the door, hand trembling. “You sure?” he called out softly. A pause. Then Alex’s voice—faint, desperate. “Yes.” Brian ste

It started with a dream. Alex woke with a jolt, drenched in sweat, chest heaving. The sheets tangled around his legs, his skin still prickling with the phantom weight of Brian’s arms. In the dream, Brian had pinned him down, eyes golden and wild, his voice low and possessive. “You’re mine. No one else will ever touch you.” The intensity of it left Alex shaken. He pressed a hand to his neck, over the bite mark—the bond. It throbbed faintly, like it remembered too. He hadn’t expected it to affect him like this. That morning, Brian noticed the distance instantly. They sat at the table like always—Alex sipping tea, Brian scrolling through his phone—but something was off. “You okay?” Brian asked, brow furrowing. Alex hesitated. “Yeah… I just didn’t sleep well.” Brian studied him. “Nightmare?” “Sort of.” Brian reached for his hand, but Alex flinched before he could stop himself. That tiny reaction shattered something. Brian froze. “Did I… do something?” Alex looked up, guilt in

By Monday, the rumors had evolved into wildfire. It didn’t take long for word to spread—Brian Carter had bonded with Alex Monroe, his omega stepbrother. The whispers started in the halls, low and slithering, then grew louder, bolder. Even teachers avoided eye contact. It wasn’t just scandal anymore—it was a threat to the pack’s image of structure, of tradition. “Is it true they marked each other?” “Heard it happened during his heat.” “Gross. They live in the same house, don’t they?” Alex tried to ignore it. He kept his head down, shoulders tight, fingers white around the straps of his backpack. But no matter how quiet he walked, the words followed him like ghosts. By third period, someone had scribbled on his locker in sharpie: “Alpha-chaser. Homewrecker. Filthy omega.” He stared at it for a long time, not moving. He didn’t cry. He just stood there, frozen. Then a hand gripped his wrist gently. Brian. “Who did this?” he growled. Alex didn’t speak. Brian’s jaw flexed. “You’