THE ALPHA CHOOSE THE WRONG SISTER

Aria — POV

Dying is supposed to be dramatic.

Thunder. Screaming. Maybe a slow‑motion fall.

Mine?

Not even close.

Just cold ground, blood everywhere, and my sister Lilith staring down at me like I’d spilled juice on her favorite shoes.

“Should’ve stayed in your place, Aria,” she’d said, voice sweet enough to rot.

Then darkness swallowed me whole.

No angels.

No afterlife.

Just… nothing.

A cold, endless nothing.

Until—

“ARIA! Come down here and help with your sister’s preparations, you useless daughter!”

My eyes flew open.

I shot upright in bed, gasping like I’d been dragged out of deep water.

I was home.

In my room.

Alive.

“What the actual—”

My heart thundered. My hands trembled. My wolf paced inside me, restless and furious.

We died, she whispered, voice low and certain. I felt our heart stop.

“I KNOW,” I whispered back. “So why are we—”

“ARIA!” my mother shrieked again. “If you make me call you one more time—!”

I stumbled out of bed, still dizzy, still trying to understand how I wasn’t a corpse.

My room looked exactly the same.

Blanket half on the floor.

Crooked pillow.

Window cracked open like always.

Had I dreamed it?

No.

I remembered the pain too clearly.

The betrayal too sharply.

The cold too deeply.

But here I was.

Alive.

And being insulted before breakfast.

Perfect.

I opened my door.

My mother stood in the hallway, hair pinned up, face tight with stress. The moment she saw me, she scowled like my existence personally inconvenienced her.

“There you are. Useless girl. Go help your sister. Damon Blackthorn will be here any minute!”

I blinked. “Damon… who?”

Lilith stepped out of her room like she was descending a royal staircase. “Aria, don’t embarrass yourself. Damon Blackthorn. The Alpha. My fiancé. The man every girl dreams of.”

Ah.

That Damon.

The one she bragged about nonstop.

The one she described in painful detail.

The one she said would “never look twice at someone like you.”

I’d never seen him.

Never met him.

Never cared.

But I knew the reputation.

Strongest Alpha in the region.

Cold. Powerful. Untouchable.

My mother shoved a basket of ribbons into my arms. “Go downstairs. Help decorate. And don’t let Damon see you. You’ll ruin everything.”

I stared at her. “Wow. Love you too.”

“Aria,” she hissed, “just this once, don’t be… you.”

Lilith smirked. “Honestly, Mom, just lock her in her room.”

I smiled sweetly. “Good luck, sister. Try not to scare him away with your personality.”

Her eyes narrowed. “At least I have one.”

Before I could respond, a knock echoed through the house.

Everyone froze.

Lilith squealed. “He’s here!”

My mother shoved me toward the stairs. “Kitchen. Now. Help the maid. And for the love of the moon, DO NOT show your face.”

I muttered, “If I ever write a book, I’m calling it Raised by Wolves and Regret.”

In the kitchen, the maid was gone. A tray of tea sat on the counter — pot, cups, sugar, biscuits.

My mother appeared again. “Aria. Bring the tea. Keep your head down. Don’t look at him. Don’t breathe loudly. Don’t—”

“Exist?” I offered.

“Yes!” she snapped. “Exactly!”

Lovely.

I picked up the tray. It was heavier than it looked.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Just walk in, drop the tea, and leave.”

I stepped into the living room.

Lilith sat on the couch like a queen. My father stood beside her. My mother hovered behind them.

And across from them sat Damon Blackthorn.

Tall.

Broad.

Storm‑eyed.

Exactly as Lilith described — except somehow worse and better at the same time.

He looked like trouble wrapped in authority.

I kept my head down.

If I didn’t look at him, maybe he wouldn’t—

The rug betrayed me.

My foot caught on the edge.

The tray tilted.

Time slowed.

“No, no, no—”

Too late.

The teapot flew forward in a perfect arc. Tea splashed across the rug in a steaming waterfall. Cups clattered. Biscuits scattered like tiny witnesses to my humiliation.

The room went dead silent.

Lilith gasped like I’d committed a war crime.

My mother made a choking sound.

My father whispered, “Why, Aria, why?”

I stood there, frozen, still holding the empty tray like a shield.

“…Oops,” I said.

My mother lunged toward me. “You stupid girl! I told you to be careful! You always ruin everything—”

“Don’t.”

The word was quiet.

But it hit the room like a command.

My mother froze.

We all did.

I looked up.

Damon was standing now.

He hadn’t been a second ago.

His eyes were on me.

Not on the rug.

Not on the mess.

On me.

His gaze dragged over my face like he was trying to memorize it. His nostrils flared as he inhaled.

His pupils blew wide.

His jaw clenched.

His wolf surged so hard the air shifted.

And then—

Something slammed into me.

Heat.

Electricity.

A pull so strong it punched the air from my lungs.

My wolf gasped.

Mate.

My knees nearly buckled.

Lilith noticed the shift. “Damon?” she said, voice tight. “Ignore her. She’s clumsy. She’s always like this. She’s—”

“Who are you?” he asked.

He wasn’t looking at her.

He was looking at me like I was the only thing in the room.

My heart hammered. My skin tingled. My wolf pressed forward, desperate and terrified.

My mother stammered, “Alpha, she’s no one. Just the other girl. Aria, apologize and go—”

“Let her answer,” Damon said.

My mother’s hand dropped away like she’d been burned.

I swallowed. “Aria.”

He inhaled again.

The bond snapped tight between us — hot, undeniable, terrifying.

Something shifted.

In him.

In me.

In the room.

Lilith laughed nervously. “She’s just my sister. Ignore her. She’s not—”

“My mate,” Damon said.

The world stopped.

Lilith screamed.

My mother fainted.

My father swore.

I dropped the tray.

I stared at him. “I’m sorry… your what?”

Damon didn’t blink. “My mate.”

The bond pulsed through me again — warm, magnetic, terrifying.

I laughed weakly. “You sniffed me once and decided that? Efficient.”

His lips twitched. “It’s not a decision. It’s a fact.”

Lilith shrieked, “NO! I’m your bride!”

Damon finally looked at her.

Cold.

Sharp.

Final.

“No,” he said. “You’re not.”

Then he turned back to me.

“You are.”