My Fated Mate Only Loved My Sister, So I Decided to Leave

Seven years ago, when Damian returned from the North, the entire Holt pack was waiting for him to announce his chosen mate.

In the end, he walked over to my sister, Cecilia Grant.

I stood at the very back of the crowd and watched him fasten the thin black chain around her neck, marking her as his mate. I wasn't even that surprised.

Everyone knew they were a better match.

Cecilia was gentle and steady, and she knew every rule in Holt territory. She knew how to sit beside a leader, how to speak up for him at public meetings, and how to keep every Elder happy.

And me? Until I was 16, my greatest talent was jumping the fence on Grant land and riding Snowfoot straight up into the mountains.

When my mother was still alive, she always said I was the wildest wolf in our house.

The ceremony was almost over.

As Damian took Cecilia's hand, cheers rose from the crowd. I was even getting ready to slip out.

But then he suddenly turned his head.

And in that instant, I froze too.

I felt a violent tug deep in my chest.

For the first time, my wolf lunged toward someone else's scent, and I couldn't hold her back.

Everything around us went silent.

Standing beside my sister, Damian slowly went pale.

Of course he knew what it meant.

I was his fated mate.

Someone suggested he reject me on the spot.

Only a formal rejection could break a fated bond. Without one, we'd stay bound. It didn't matter whether I ever went back to Grant territory or whether he had a chosen mate.

Cecilia's hand went cold in his.

My father, Walter Grant, came over to me, his face grim. "Evelyn, do you want to go home?"

I didn't answer right away.

I looked at Damian.

When we were younger, he'd ridden with me all the way to the edge of the snowline. The first time I fully shifted, he was the one who stood guard outside the woods, afraid I'd lose control and run into a trap.

He'd laughed and said that as long as I didn't kill anyone or burn anything down, he could clean up any mess I made.

Back then, I really believed nobody in the world understood me better than he did.

Finally, Damian spoke. "I won't reject Cecilia."

My heart sank.

But then he looked at me.

"And I won't reject you either."

He came down the steps and took me by the wrist.

"I'll protect you."

Seven years ago, I took that as an answer.

Seven years later, I finally understood it was just another way of refusing to let go.

Cecilia had always been the Holt pack's publicly recognized chosen mate.

She gave Damian three children.

I lived in a cabin on the eastern edge of the territory. I had the best stables, the quietest woods, and more freedom to come and go than anyone else.

Damian made sure I never went without.

When my wolf got restless at night, he'd come stay with me.

When I wanted to ride, he had the best mountain trails built for me.

I once mentioned in passing that I liked the maple grove by the old silver mine. He had the patrols go around it so they wouldn't spook Snowfoot.

He gave me everything except a real choice.

I wasn't always this quiet.

For the first two years, I still argued with him about Cecilia always being by his side.

In the third year, I started asking when I'd have a child of my own.

By the fifth year, I hardly ever shifted anymore.

By the seventh year, even riding Snowfoot across the eastern slope left me breathless.

The Holt pack doctor, Dr. Owen Mercer, said it was because my wolf had always been unstable.

Every so often, Damian would bring me medicine.

He said it was to help me feel better.

I always believed him, right up until the night I suddenly lost control and half-shifted in the bathroom.

My claws burst from my fingertips. The pain brought me to my knees. A few minutes later, my claws retracted.

I didn't call Owen.

Early the next morning, I had my friend Mia Sutton drive me to a private clinic two mountains away.

The independent doctor there, Dr. Elliot Shaw, sent my medicine to the lab. When he came back out, he looked grim.

"How long have you been taking this?"

"Seven years."

He stared at me for a few seconds.

"This isn't just something to steady your wolf."

I didn't say anything.

"It's contained a fertility suppressant from the beginning. Worse, it's also contained traces of silver for the past few years."

I stared at the test results in his hand, struggling to make sense of them.

"What does that mean?"

"It means the medicine has been preventing you from getting pregnant while weakening your wolf and slowing your healing."

He paused.

"If you'd only been taking it for a few months, it wouldn't be a big deal. But seven years..."

I asked, "And if I stop taking it?"

"Stop right now."

"Will I get better?"

He didn't answer.

And suddenly I understood.

After a long pause, he said quietly, "Your organs have suffered serious damage, and your wolf is barely holding on. At best, you have three months left."

The exam room was very quiet.

To my surprise, I didn't cry.

I just remembered how I'd disliked the bitter taste every time I took it over the years.

Damian would hand me the cup, then casually drop a piece of candy into my palm.

One year, I asked him, "Why don't I have a baby yet?"

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're not well. Give it a few more years."

Back then, I teased him and said he was obviously more anxious about it than I was.

Elliot pulled up the old records.

The original prescription was meant for short-term birth control.

It was safe, reversible, and recommended for only a few months.

The approval field listed one name: Damian Holt.

I stared at that name for a long time.

I still didn't know who had switched the medicine later.

But at the very beginning, he'd known.

He'd known the medicine wasn't meant to make me better.

He'd just never planned to tell me.

When I got back to our territory, I poured the medicine down the sink.

Mia stood beside me, her eyes red.

"Do you want to go talk to him?"

"No."

"But you at least need to get some answers."

I threw the bottle in the trash.

"Answers about what?"

Ask him why he got to decide whether I could have children?

Or ask how long he'd been planning to keep me on it?

At this point, no answer could give me back those seven years.

I put the keys, bank card, jewelry, and spare car key Damian had given me into a box, one item at a time.

All I kept was my mother's brooch and Snowfoot.

He'd been with me longer than anyone.

That afternoon, I brought a hunting bracer I'd made for Cecilia's oldest son, Noah Holt.

Next month, he'd be going into the mountains to track with the adult wolves for the first time.

I'd sewn it to fit his wrist and ruined it twice before I got it right.

Noah didn't take it.

He looked at me, then suddenly knocked the bracer into the snow.

"I don't want it."

"Why not?"

"You always act like you care about us."

His face flushed bright red.

"Mom says you're using the fated bond to steal Dad away from us."

I crouched down and picked the bracer up out of the snow.

"What else did she say?"

Noah gritted his teeth. "That you've always wanted a baby so your child can take my place."

I heard footsteps behind me.

Damian walked over. He looked at Noah first, then at the bracer in my hands.

"What's going on?"

Noah ran straight to his side.

"She came looking for me again."

Damian frowned.

"Evelyn."

In the past, whenever he said my name like that, I'd be the first to blow up.

But this time, I just brushed the snow off the bracer.

"I brought him a gift. He didn't like it."

Damian's eyes landed on the box Mia was holding.

"What's that?"

"Your things."

"Mine?"

"The things you gave me."

His face darkened immediately.

"So you're throwing another tantrum because Cecilia's holding a ceremony for Noah's heir training?"

I almost laughed.

So to him, all my unhappiness over the years came down to competing with my sister.

"It won't happen again."

He paused, caught off guard.

I set the bracer down at the edge of the porch.

"I mean it."

"Evelyn."

He reached up and pulled the collar of my coat closed.

"If you want something, you can just tell me."

I pulled away from his hand.

"There's nothing I want right now."

Damian stared at me for a few seconds.

He seemed to finally sense something was off, but he still didn't ask.

That evening, Cecilia came to see me.

She was as gentle as ever.

"You want to go back to Grant territory for a while, don't you?"

I looked at her.

"Can I?"

"Of course."

She took my hand.

"I'll plan a route that won't tip Damian off. You both need time to cool off."

She smiled.

"We're sisters.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you."

I looked down at her hand holding mine.

Seven years ago, I'd trusted Damian.

This time, I trusted my sister.