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For someone who was raised in a pack of wolves, quitting has never been in my nature.
It took a late puberty for me to finally shift into my wolf, and during that period, I worked tirelessly to keep up with my mates who already had a bond with their wolf.
This mentality stuck with me and helped me settle faster into the human world than my twin, Kayla. Straight out of college, I was lucky to get a good job at the marketing agency where I had interned. To have the opportunity to do something I love, I felt truly blessed and stayed a loyal employee for over 5 years.
Being part of a team and a company with a healthy work culture was not overemphasized enough. My job gave me comfort and stability. I loved my life in the human world.
Until something shifted.
Getting out of bed recently became a chore. My eyes rolled every time a G****e Meet notification popped up for morning stand-ups, and I was so close to snapping at my coworkers. That wouldn’t exactly end well. My wolf was on the edge for weeks to be let out for a run and was more eager for a hunt. This was one of the downsides of living among mundanes, and my wolf had had enough of it.
I assumed it was a simple burnout. I took paid leave numerous times to visit an isolated estate in the countryside with Kayla and shift into our wolves without worry of being sighted.
But nothing changed. If anything, I felt worse. Slowly feeling my wolf spiraling out of control, I knew I had to leave.
“Is this a joke? “My manager, Selena muttered, her eyes flickering between the resignation letter and my face.
“It took me three hours to draft, and another to edit,” I replied. “It’s not a joke.”
She sighed, “We’ve been solid for five years without any issue, why do you want to quit now? Help me understand.”
“Honestly?” I sank onto the sofa across from her desk. “I don’t have a reason you’d like to hear. I’m exhausted, Selena. It feels like…. there’s something weighing on my chest. For months, I’ve been relying on anxiety medications, and urgh, it’s only getting worse. I know I’m dragging the team down. We’ve barely hit targets, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s my fault. I fear the best option right now is for me to quit. It feels like the only way I can breathe again.”
Her sharp gaze lingered on me. Selena had been my team leader since my internship. My mentor and driving force to reach my potential. People called her Dream Killer, not because she was cruel, but because she crushed competitors without mercy. She was brilliant, intimidating, and impossibly composed. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was an Alpha.
“You’ve used all your paid time off,” She said carefully. “How about we consider your break as unpaid leave instead? I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret. Quitting on impulse? I taught you better than that.” Her tone was laced with disappointment, and my heart sank a bit.
She crossed the room, grabbed two cans of Mountain Dew from the mini fridge, and handed one to me. A small smile tugged at my lips. She joined me on the sofa.
“A break without the anxiety of resuming work is what I picture, and it might help me feel better,” I said quietly.
My decision wasn’t made on impulse, but I was not about to argue with her because even the strength for that was absent.
“I want you to feel better, so here’s what we’ll do. I’ll accept your resignation, and if you do decide to come back, your position will be waiting for you. One month is the limit, though.”
My head snapped up. With wide eyes, I shrieked, “Oh my goodness, really? How did I get so lucky to have a boss like you?”
She shrugged. “Beats me. Call it my last act of favoritism.”
I lunged forward to hug her. She tried to stop me, not surprisingly, but I ignored it.
“I’ll take it. Thank you so much, Selena,” I said excitedly and moved to hug her, but she stopped me with her hand.
Never the best at receiving compliments or good with public display of affection, I expected her reaction but ignored it and still went in for a hug.
“You'd better not let my kindness go to waste and come back to work in good spirits.”
**
My Fridays usually ended with grocery runs. Kayla’s weekends, on the other hand, were booked with outdoor activities. Settling into our adulthood exposed our distinct personalities and lifestyles, and while it affected our friendship at times, we tried to work around it.
Especially since we only had ourselves in this big city. We had a routine of compromising our weekends to do what one of us wanted.
This weekend was her turn. I had to sacrifice my quiet evening of binge watching stranger things to attend a festival that she’d curated as an event strategist. I was super proud of her because she had never been one to hold down a job for too long.
The moment I reached Central Park, regret churned in my stomach. My senses flared, sharp and overwhelming, my wolf pacing beneath my skin like I was in heat.
For someone who had lived with humans for the past 12 years, it was suddenly a struggle being in a crowd. I contemplated going home and giving an excuse, but it was too late as I spotted Kayla heading in my direction.
“There you are,” Kayla said. “For a moment, I thought you weren’t going to show.”
“You’re lucky,” I muttered. “I almost ran.”
“I smelled you the second you walked in.”
Kayla was a stronger wolf than I was, even without constant shifting. Taller, fitter, sharper. Her sense of smell was unmatched, and standing next to her always made me feel smaller.
I often felt overpowered, but on the bright side, she was like my personal bodyguard.
“What the hell are you even wearing?” I said, taking in the Victorian era style costume of a debutante looking to snag a wealthy suitor. With the tight bodice that pushed her small tits high, it was giving the illusion of big, and the aim would attract nothing less than a duke or even a prince.
“Oh, this,” she peered down at her costume with a quirky smile. “It’s part of the festival theme. I did keep a costume for you if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I’m good. The beige color does suit your hair. It’s not every day you see a Bridgeton with red hair.”
“Why, thank you, you flatter me with your compliments,” She did curtsy befitting of her character, and a snort escaped me.
She laughed, “I knew you’d tease me,”
“I haven’t even said anything.”
“Whatever, come on, let's go get ice cream,” she grabs my hand and begins to pull me without any time to protest. I got a medium-sized cup of mint chocolate, and Kayla got vanilla and banana. I loved sweet treats, and the first taste had me feeling better.
“How did it go with your boss?” Kayla asked as she collected her change from the ice cream vendor.
“Really good, she gave me a month off.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s amazing! I know how stressed out you’ve been lately.”
“Yeah, hopefully the time off does me a lot of good.”
“Of course it will, I have a whole itinerary planned out. There’s no way you’ll feel down once you see it.”
“An itinerary? I’m not planning a vacation.”
“Why not? Is it money? I can ask Dad to give us some.”
“No, Kayla, I don’t think a vacation is going to cut it this time, especially if I’m going with….” I stop myself before I make the mistake of hurting Kayla, but she finishes the sentence anyway. “Me?” Her expression is a mixture of astonishment and hurt.
“But we’re always together.” Her voice cracked.
“I know,” the words came out dejectedly
“We’re sisters. Twins. How can you think of going on a vacay without me?”
“I didn’t exactly think of going without you, I just….”
She huffed, her free hand pushing back her bangs. “I understand not going home because of our situation, but it’s about time we face it.”
“It’s not that simple,” I sighed, withdrawing my hand from her hold.
“Yes, it is, I will protect you,” she affirmed, oozing with the confidence of a warrior wolf.
“Let’s revisit this discussion when we’re not in public,” I pleaded with her. Scanning the area to avoid making eye contact with Kayla, a bright neon sign that read, “Fortune seer,” drew my attention
The perfect escape.
“Hey, look, it’s a fortune teller, let’s give it a try,” I said, leading the way. I could tell she was not happy, but the last thing I wanted was a back-and-forth of going home and vacation problems.
There was no queue in the fortune teller stall. Inside the cabana, smoke thickened the air, and the bright lights were never-ending.
“Welcome,” a tiny voice called. “Please step behind the curtain.”
I looked back to see Kayla following me closely behind. The dimly lit room had an eerie vibe to it, and gentle jazz music filled the room.
“You twins look troubled. Please sit.” The small woman gestured for us to sit.
She stretched her hands to the two chairs facing her. Kayla was hesitant to sit down, so I pulled her dress to join me.
“What would you like me to do for you this fine evening? Read your palm or a tarot reading?”
“This is bull,” Kayla muttered loud enough for my ears only.
Ignoring her, I replied, “A palm reading, please.”
The fortune teller nodded and asked for my hand to be placed on the table. Gently, she began tracing the lines on my palm, causing thrills to run down my spine and tickle a bit.
Kayla, unimpressed, kept scoffing and kissing her teeth subtly, while I pinched her gently to behave.
“Oh, you carry heavy shadows,” the woman mumbled as her fingers ran through my palm, with her eyes shut close.
Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any weirder, the woman opened her eyes, and her glowing serpent pupils penetrated my soul, causing my whole body to freeze.
My distracted sister immediately sat upright and tried to pull my hand away from the woman, but she only held on tighter.
A witch. Not the kind whispered about in myths, but the kind packs prayed never to meet.
A dark, deadly one. With a grudge?
Her wilted, flowery scent no longer masked filled the cabana, nearly choking both of us. In our 26 years of living, we had never encountered a good witch, let alone a dark one. They had become a myth, just like elves, gone extinct after their annihilation by vampires.
“I am not a friend nor a foe,” she said. “For the sake of old partnerships, I’ll give you this warning. On the first blood moon of the year, your existence will cease, your hearts will shatter, and your bond will be broken. A fight to the death is a fight to live. He will build you, and he will destroy you, for the words I speak will be the beginning of your doom. And only one heart will survive.”
Her gaze flicked between us and smiled.
“May the best twin win.”
Kira’s POVNo one moved for several seconds after I asked about the witness.The word blood moon still rang in my ears like something ancient had just been summoned into the room. My father stood in the hallway with his shoulders squared too tightly, as if bracing for an impact that had already happened. My mother looked smaller than I had ever seen her, her fingers twisting into the hem of her cardigan.I had expected denial.Deflection.Maybe even anger.Instead, I saw fear.And something inside me shifted.“You don’t have to look at me like I’m about to shatter,” I said quietly, stepping fully into the kitchen. The overhead light hummed faintly above us, casting shadows under their eyes that made them look older. “I’m not angry.”My mother’s lips parted slightly. “Kira…”“I’m not,” I repeated, and to my own surprise, it was true.There was too much already unraveling in my life to feel betrayed by this too. The mate bond. The curse. Kayla’s hurt. Nick’s silence. Caroline’s face sti
KIRAThe shower had long stopped running, yet steam still clung stubbornly to the bathroom walls as though it refused to leave me alone with my thoughts. Droplets slid lazily down the tiles, tracing uneven paths that reminded me too much of the mess my life had become. I pressed my palm against the mirror, dragging it downward until a clear streak cut through the fog. My reflection stared back at me in fragments before the rest of the condensation slowly gave way.My eyes looked different.Not physically. They were still the same shade, still framed by lashes I used to envy on Nick’s face earlier in the week like a complete idiot. But something behind them had shifted. There was a tension there now. A constant awareness. As if my soul had been shaken awake and could not go back to sleep.I wiped the mirror fully with a towel and leaned closer, bracing both hands against the sink. Water from my damp hair dripped onto the porcelain, forming small puddles near my fingers.Two mates.One
As everyone waited for Nick's response to the question, Esme came to the rescue. “I think it is wise we all depart back to our homes before emotions run too high and things we might regret are said.”The twin's father agreed and stood up first before his wife and Kayla followed. They made their way to the door while Kira was still rooted in the same spot. The council room did not empty immediately after Elder Esme dismissed them. It unraveled slowly, like a tightly wound thread being tugged apart strand by strand. The air felt heavier than before, thick with words unsaid and accusations swallowed too late.Nick remained seated long after Esme concluded that they would reconvene. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers laced together so tightly the knuckles blanched. The faint scent of cedarwood polish from the long oak table did little to ground him. Neither did the low hum of the chandelier overhead nor the muted shuffling of feet as people rose from their seats.He did not look at
“If there was a mistake with the twins' birth, it's only right that we're all informed about it,” Matilda said, her gaze resting on elder Esme. The twins mom's head snapped to Matilda with a look of disgust. “Our daughters are not mistakes,” she said sharply, her hand spread out to where Kayla was seated as if to shield her from something unseen.The overprotective side of her was out, and she didn't mind taking on the Alpha's mother too. “I did not say they were a mistake,” Matilda defended calmly. “I'm only following up with what elder Esme implied….. or is that wrong of me to do?” “Yes it is,” their dad responded. “Whatever Esme said is not justification to trigger my wife.” A bewildered look covered Matilda's face, confused how her simple question could come across as a trigger. If Matilda were to trigger anyone, she had her eyes on the twins who she believed weren't good enough for her son. “I never called your daughters mistakes. Please don't take my words out of context,”
Nick moved instantly, stepping forward as Esme’s body went rigid, still holding Kira’s hand as if holding onto something unseen.And for the first time since this nightmare of twins being mated to one alpha began, true fear of the unknown settled in the room.The air in the council room became dry so abruptly it was felt by everyone in the room, adjusting out of shock and some in denial. “You should have never been born,” she repeated again. Elder Esme’s voice did not rise when she said it. It did not tremble or crack. With every inch of sincerity, her words floated through the room like something irreversible had shifted.Her eyes were still glazed in the eerie white that was common every time she did a palm reading and entered into a trance. Her hand still held into Kira's palm as though she were holding onto a thread only she could see. A thread that could very well determine the fate of not only the twins, nor the people in the room, but for the supernatural world. Nick was the
The words landed like stones dropping into a pond, thrown from kilometers away. Hearing it said out loud, Kira desperately wished for the ground to open and swallow her whole, erasing her existence from the earth. The situation was bad. Very bad. And having all these people in the room made it very clear that she was in a hot spot. Not just for hiding that she knew the alpha was her mate, but for what might come later. That, she was not prepared for. She could not even bear to look her parents in the eye. In their eyes, she was sure she looked like a disgrace. Time and time again, she only disappointed them, and there was no way out of this with her mind and heart intact. Her mother, now shaking visibly in her seat, was shocked to hear it said plainly. Oh, she could nearly pass out, but in such a cold room, even the lightheadedness of the news could not take her out. She inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening more against the poor edge of her chair, which guaranteed she would have







