The Apologies Came Too Late

I woke up in the pack clinic after my ninety-ninth blood donation for my twin sister, Maeve. She’d been cursed by an evil witch since birth—a dark curse that could only be sustained by the blood of her twin. My blood.

But this time, the repeated donations had come with a cost. The healer said the years of constant blood donations had finally broken my body down, causing me to develop a rare blood disease, Aplastic anemia. And my wolf's healing couldn’t fight this because she's too weak and drained.

I called a cab to go home and tell my family about the diagnosis, but then I decided to stop at Sweet Dreams Bakery first to buy a birthday cake or both of us since today was our eighteenth birthday.

When I walked through the glass door, I froze.

My family was already there, gathered around the counter, laughing and pointing at cake designs in the display book.

My mate-to-be, Archer Kane, had his arm wrapped around Maeve's shoulders, and gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

The moment they heard the bell, everyone turned to look at me.

Archer's hand dropped from Maeve's shoulder and he took a step back. "Kira, what are you doing here?"

Damien, my elder brother, looked at me with a disgusted look. “Look at how you’re dressed, showing up here like this on Maeve’s birthday. Are you trying to embarrass us in public? Can’t you at least put in some effort for once?”

I was wearing the same outfit I’d worn to the clinic two days ago because I’d been unconscious for hours after the blood donation.“I came to buy a birthday cake for us.”

Maeve’s face lit up with fake sympathy. “Oh, Kira, there’s absolutely no need for that! We already took care of everything. Come see!”

She pulled me toward the digital display screen on the counter, where a 3D cake design slowly rotated in full detail — three tiers, silver and blue frosting, every decoration already chosen. My eyes went straight to the top.

'Happy 18th Birthday, Maeve.'

Only her name.

Not ours.

They had designed it that way from the start, without a single thought of me.

While I was passed out in the clinic from giving her my blood, they were here ordering a custom cake with only her name on it.

When the blood donations first began, my family treated me like a hero—thanking me endlessly, caring for me tenderly, and praising my sacrifice as if it truly mattered.

But as the years passed, the donations became routine, and Maeve’s fragility became the center of attention. My sacrifice became a duty, and Maeve’s survival became more important than mine and I faded into the background.

The cake in front of me was just the latest proof. On our shared birthday, I didn't even exist.

The baker, a young woman in her twenties, glanced between us before offering a small, professional smile to my family. “Why don’t we test the flavor samples before we finalize everything?”

Mom immediately turned to me. “Kira, sweetheart, why don’t you try these and tell us which one tastes best? You’ve always had better taste buds than your sister, and with everything Maeve has been through with her illness, we want to make sure the flavors aren’t too strong for her.”

She brightened and picked up one of the small tasting spoons. "Here, Kira, tell us what you think of this one."

I looked at the cream and my stomach turned.

I could see the chopped hazelnuts clearly mixed into the chocolate. I was severely allergic to nuts. It had sent me to the hospital twice before, once when I was ten and again when I was fifteen. Everyone in my family knew this.

"I don't want to try it. I'd rather just go and let you finish ordering."

My father's expression darkened immediately and he slammed his hand down on the counter. "Is it really too much to ask for you to participate in your sister's birthday celebration for five minutes without acting like a spoiled child?"

Damien snorted and shook his head in disgust. "She's been in a mood all week because Maeve is getting more attention, this is exactly the kind of petty behavior we've been dealing with constantly."

My mother pushed the spoon closer to my face. "Can’t you do this one little thing? For Maeve? She’s been so looking forward to this day, and it would mean so much to her if you helped choose the cake.”

I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for me to refuse again so they could pile on more accusations of being difficult and selfish.

I opened my mouth and let my mother feed me the spoonful of cream. It tasted delicious and under any other circumstances, I might have enjoyed it.

But all I could think about was how none of them had remembered, or maybe they simply didn't care.

I set the spoon down carefully and looked at them all. "Are you all satisfied now that I've tasted it, or have you forgotten that I have a severe nut allergy and everyone in this family has known that since I was six years old?"

My mother's hand flew to her mouth and she grabbed my arm. "Oh my goodness, Kira, why didn't you say something before you ate it? You can't just put things in your mouth without checking what's in them first, what were you thinking?"

Archer’s expression shifted immediately to genuine panic. “Wait, you’re allergic to nuts? Kira, you need to spit it out right now.”

For a brief moment, I thought he actually cared.

But before I could respond, Maeve let out a soft gasp and swayed on her feet.

Archer’s attention snapped away from me instantly as he rushed to catch her. “Maeve! What’s wrong?Is it your heart again?”

She leaned heavily against him, her hand pressed dramatically to her chest. “I’m sorry, I just felt dizzy for a moment. Please don’t worry about me.”

Mom immediately abandoned me to fuss over Maeve. “Sweetheart, did you take your medication this morning? You know you can’t skip doses.”

My father’s face flushed with embarrassment at my allergy mention, but instead of apologizing, he turned his anger toward me. “If you knew you were allergic, then you should have spoken up instead of expecting everyone else to keep track of every little detail about your health issues. You’re eighteen years old and you have a strong wolf. Act like it.”

Damien groaned in frustration. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You always do this—you create drama and then blame everyone else for it. If you’d just used your words like a normal person, none of this would have happened.”

Maeve’s voice was soft and soothing. “Kira, I’m sure it was just an accident. No one meant to hurt you, and I think you’re overreacting because you’re tired from the blood donation.”

Damien waved dismissively at me. "Besides, you're making a fuss out of nothing. It's only a small amount of nuts, and it can't actually hurt you—you have a wolf. Your healing should take care of it in minutes."

What none of them knew was that Aurora, my wolf, had grown weaker with each donation. The constant drain on my life force to save Maeve had left her barely strong enough to shift, let alone heal me from anything.

But I didn't tell them that. What was the point?

I looked at all of them and I realized that no matter what I said or did, they would always find a way to make me the villain.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your celebration. It won’t happen again.”

The moment the words left my mouth, everyone in the room froze.