Sisters’ Regret After I Left

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older sisters brought home a fifteen-year-old orphaned boy.

My Alpha sister seized the rare healing herbs I'd spent all my savings on and gave them to him instead. My Beta sister snarled with fury, "Get out! Don't come back!"

They even took the orphan boy on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting.

Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted a position requiring fifteen years of isolated herbal research.

I could never return home.

That night, they went crazy.

…

The day I accepted the Head Healer's offer happened to be the Full Moon Festival — the most sacred day for werewolf families to reunite and celebrate together.

My mentor walked me to the door of the healing chambers, her voice gentle as she offered her final advice:

"In five days, you'll begin your fifteen years of isolation, Caleb. Remember to say proper goodbyes to your family."

The Northern Territory was always cold. I stood on the street corner for what felt like hours, finally gathering enough courage to attempt mind-linking with my sisters.

Unsurprisingly, they had blocked my mental connection long ago.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, calling my Alpha sister, Alexa. Twenty years as siblings should count for something.

No matter how ugly things had become, we deserved one final meal together.

She disconnected my calls repeatedly before finally shutting her phone off completely.

I swallowed it down and dialed my Beta sister, Riley.

This time, after an eternity of ringing, she deigned to answer, like she was granting me some grand favor.

Afraid she'd hang up, I rushed my words.

"It's Full Moon Festival today. Could we... could we celebrate together at home?"

Silence stretched across the line. I carefully added:

"I bought gifts for everyone. I even found a hand-forged hunting dagger for Wesley — the kind he's been wanting."

Wesley was the orphan boy my sisters had adopted.

Riley's voice came back cold and impatient. "Thanks to you, Wesley hasn't even been released from the hospital yet. We're all here taking care of him. How dare you even mention celebrating Full Moon Festival?"

I pretended not to hear the disgust in her voice. "Then I could bring the gifts to the hospital? We could celebrate there while looking after him. Would that work?"

I'd never begged like this before.

Since Wesley arrived, Alexa, Riley, and I had argued constantly for four years.

Even during our worst fights, I'd never lowered my head like this.

But this time was different.

A separation like this — who knew when or if we'd ever see each other again?

Riley remained silent.

After an uncomfortable pause, Wesley's careful, polite voice broke the tension.

"I'd love a hunting dagger, Riley. If brother wants to bring it, I don't mind."

He even called me brother. He always did, in front of them. Polite. Gentle. Good.

I immediately replied. "I'll bring it right over."

Afraid they might refuse again, I quickly ended the call.

I detoured to the artisan quarter to pick up the gifts I'd pre-ordered. Over the years, I'd worked hard and saved $150,000 — every penny now spent on these presents.

For Alexa, my Alpha sister, I bought a precious healing crystal. As the pack's lead warrior, she was prone to injuries. For Riley, my Beta sister, I found an ancient herbal codex she'd been coveting for her botanical studies.

And the hunting dagger for Wesley. Forged by one of the oldest blade-smiths in the territory, fitted with a carved bone handle. The kind he'd "casually" admired in front of Alexa three weeks ago, knowing she'd remember.

I'd always wanted the matching companion blade for myself, but could never justify the expense.

Today, I'd gift the dagger to Wesley. This was my last festival with my sisters, and I wanted them to be happy.

With all the presents collected, I hurried to the hospital.

My side was bothering me again as I walked. The deep claw wounds I'd taken in the rogue wolf skirmish ten days ago hadn't healed right — they never did, not since the burns from the fire that killed our parents had wrecked my self-healing. I'd kept the injury quiet.

Alexa had been the one I'd jumped in front of out there at the border, and she'd been distracted afterward dealing with Wesley's "sudden fever" that turned out to be nothing. I'd patched myself up alone in my room with the last of my own herbs.

She didn't know. None of them knew.

That was fine. It was almost over.

The hospital room had only one small table, barely large enough for three people to sit around.

Riley glanced up at me when I entered.

Before she could say anything, I grabbed a small chair and positioned myself near the floor-to-ceiling window.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed her pause momentarily, seemingly surprised by my action.

But her bewilderment lasted only seconds.

She quickly returned to her task, helping Wesley arrange the pillows behind his back.

The hospital chairs were hard. Alexa took her own coat and draped it over Wesley's shoulders.

Wesley, young and excited, opened the dagger box, his face lighting up with delight.

"It's beautiful," he said softly, careful — always careful — to keep his voice modest in front of them. "Brother, thank you."

I couldn't help but glance their way.

That's when Wesley drew the dagger from its sheath — slowly, the way you would if you actually didn't know how to handle a blade. He turned it over in his palm and dragged his thumb across the edge.

He hissed and let go. The dagger clattered to the tray on his bedside table.

A bright line of blood opened along the pad of his thumb.

"Wesley!" Riley was on her feet in an instant.

"It's okay, it's okay — I just wasn't careful — "

In an instant, Alexa grabbed his hand to look at the cut.

Riley jumped up too, reaching for a tissue from the bedside box.

"Be careful," they said together, their voices laced with concern.

A familiar scene unfolded before me.

Except once, long ago, I had been in Wesley's place.

Lost in memory, I forgot to look away.

Until Riley, after wrapping the tissue around his thumb, sensed my gaze and looked up.

Her eyes, warm with worry for him just seconds before, turned ice-cold when they met mine.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I hurriedly dropped my gaze, standing up to offer help.

"Let me look at it — " I said, stepping forward.

But in my haste, the pull in my side flared up sharp, and I caught my foot against the chair leg and went down hard. My palm scraped against the rough hospital floor.

The impact jolted the wound on my side. Black spots danced at the edge of my vision for a second.

"What are you doing?" Alexa growled. "Did you have it sharpened to a working edge on purpose? You know he's never held a real blade before. Couldn't you have had it dulled for a fifteen-year-old?"

My words caught in my throat. "No, I — that's how it's supposed to be — "

"The dagger is perfect," Wesley said quickly, sweet and gentle, his thumb still bleeding into the tissue. "Brother, please don't blame yourself. I'll be more careful next time."

I pushed myself up, the pain in my side flaring again. I kept my face still.

Riley looked down at me coldly. "Are you trying to seem pitiful now? Are you really so jealous that you can't even see us caring about Wesley without making a scene? You brought him a weapon, Caleb. Sharpened. What were you thinking?"

The accusation hit harder than the fall.

I said nothing, rising silently from the floor on my own.

Blood beaded along my palm, but I hid it behind my back.

I didn't show them my side either, where I could feel something warm starting to seep through the bandage under my shirt.