All Chapters of Mated To My Brother-In-Law: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

KaylaThe warmth of the fire kissed my skin as I settled on the chair… the scent of herbs still hung in the air, and the air had shifted. The weight of my decision pressed against my chest like an iron rod, and Hilda’s pale eyes followed me as I moved my legs closer. “Lie down,” Hilda said, already moving toward her shelves. She observed the basket of dried herbs, selecting this one and that one with ease. “The tea will take a few minutes to brew, but it will help with the taste of the gross drink, as you call it. Use that time to quiet your mind.” I sat on the long couch, the leather itching, calming my body. My hand was still wrapped around the small jar she had given me earlier, but she shook her head when I held it up. “Hand it over. Since you’ll be going through the process here, I’ll mix it in with some herbs to make a more soothing tea. "I'm not promising it will be sweet, but it will not be as gross, okay?” She took the jar from me, and I nodded. My mind was a bit at rest k

KaylaMy memories were back, and it filled me with so many questions. “Good,” I said, surprising myself by how steady my voice was. “Then we're on the same page.” Kira looked at me, confused. “What do you mean?” I stood up from the mattress and walked to the window, my back to her. I picked up the ceramic wolf figurine and rubbed it with my fingers. “I mean that I don't want to fight you, Kira. I never did.” I turned to face her. “I was angry, jealous, and even hurt. But I don't want to lose my sister over a curse we didn’t choose.” Kira blinked, running her fingers through her hair. “Kayla…” “Let me finish.” I held up my right hand. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About us and everything.” I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. “And I realized that I've been so focused on what I wanted that I forgot to see what you were going through.” Kira stared at me with an unreadable expression. “What are you saying?”“I’m saying that I’m sorry.” The words came out easier than

KiraThe kitchen smelled like soy sauce and sesame oil, the familiar scent wrapping around me like a memory I hadn't known I was holding onto.I stood at the stove, stirring the noodles in the pot, watching them soften and swirl in the bubbling water. Cooking had always been my escape—the rhythm of chopping, the sizzle of oil, the patience of waiting for water to boil. It was the only thing that quieted my mind when the thoughts became too loud.And tonight, the thoughts were deafening.Nick's face. Kayla's tears. The empty room upstairs. The ceramic wolf on the windowsill, watching me pack my life into boxes.I added the vegetables—bell peppers, snap peas, shredded carrots—and let them cook until they were tender but still bright. The sauce was already mixed in a small bowl: soy sauce, ginger, garlic, a touch of honey. I poured it over the noodles and vegetables, stirring everything together until the colors blurred into something that looked almost like art.I was plating the food wh

NickThe packhouse was quiet in the hours before noon… Most guards were out on patrol, and the packhouse staffs were moving through their daily routines. Nick sat behind his desk in the alpha office, his gaze fixed on the woman seated across from him.Dalia leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed, a yellow folder balanced on her knee. She had arrived an hour ago, slipping into the packhouse through the side entrance to avoid being spotted by their mom. Nick’s younger sister had spent the last five years rotating in different pack territories and attending schools in the human world to improve her skills and also learn about the supernatural world. She was the only person he trusted to look into the twins' birth history. “You’re sure?” Nick asked. Dalia’s lip quirked. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I weren't sure.” She opened the folder and slid a photograph across the desk. Nick picked it up. The image was old, showing a woman in heavy robes standing before a stone altar. Her fa

Kayla The packhouse was different from what she remembered as a little girl. It was everything she had ever imagined in the finest grandeur. Dalia led her through the corridors with the ease of someone who had grown up in these walls, her voice warm and conversational as she pointed out the training wing, private quarters reserved for visiting dignitaries, and residential wings. Kayla followed a step behind, her eyes wide, and her hands clasped in front of her like she was walking through a museum. It was going to be all hers now. Or it would be once the ceremony was complete. The thought sent a thrill through her chest. “The packhouse was built by our great-grandfather,” Dalia was saying, her hand brushing against the wall of the corridor. “He wanted something that every pack member could call home. Hence, the gardens, the library, and many sitting rooms. He believed an Alpha’s strength came from the loyalty of his pack, and loyalty was earned through comfort as much as combat.”