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

KaylaThe cottage felt different when I returned.The warmth of the fire still kissed my skin, the scent of herbs still hung in the air, and the shadows still danced in corners where no light should reach. But something had shifted. The weight of my decision pressed against my chest like a second heart, and Hilda's pale eyes followed me as I moved to the cot by the wall."Lie down," she said, already moving toward her shelves. Her fingers trailed over jars and bundles of dried herbs, selecting this one and that one with practiced ease. "The tea will take a few minutes to brew. Use that time to quiet your mind."I sat on the edge of the cot, the straw ticking scratchy beneath my palms. My hand was still wrapped around the small jar she had given me earlier, but she shook her head when I held it up."Not that one. That was in case you wanted to try on your own. But since you're here, I'll make you something stronger. More effective." She glanced at me over her shoulder. "And more gentle.

KaylaThe walk back from Hilda's cottage felt longer than it should have.My legs were heavy, my mind heavier. The memories I had unlocked swirled behind my eyes like a storm I couldn't calm—Caroline's blood, Kira's red eyes, the feel of my skull striking stone. I had spent twelve years with a hole in my head, and now that hole was filled with jagged edges and sharp pieces that cut every time I breathed.But I wasn't the same girl who had stumbled into the woods three days ago. I wasn't the same woman who had drunk Hilda's tea and begged for the truth. I was something else now. Harder. Clearer.I pulled out my phone as I walked, my fingers trembling slightly. The screen glowed in the afternoon light, and I typed a quick message to Harper.*Meet me at The Brewed Leaf. 7 PM. We need to talk.*I hit send before I could second-guess myself.Harper's response came almost immediately. *I'll be there.*I slipped the phone back into my pocket and kept walking. The trees thinned, and the pack t

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.”