He Chose My Sister But It Was Always Me Novels & Stories

When he touched me I felt my heart flatter, I could still feel the heat of his hand on my thigh or how his thumb started moving. I was really never the girl that guys noticed I was always teased for the way I looked. Usually they all preferred my sister since she was the whole package big tits, ass, flat tomach and smart. While everyone knew me as marely Ruby's sister not Isabella but I really did not let it get to me but deep down it has always hurt that I was never someone's choice. So the fact that he actually remembers me meant alot to me because it meant maybe I had a chance with him.

“What does she mean, choose?” Before my lovely sister could answer, there was a tap on my shoulder. It was a guard. He smiled at me, looked me up and down, and pointed to her table. I turned to the Countess' table, and walked over, quietly, in a trance. I don't know what came over me. It was like, I just, knew. My sister stood behind, gaping. Her jaw had bounced a few times, I knew that. I had been “selected,” and I had no idea why.

I kept repeating his words in my head: “You are mine…” I didn’t want to think the way I thought. I didn’t want to believe I actually felt the way I felt. I didn’t want to see my little sister as the enemy. But I couldn’t deny it any longer. It was what my heart wanted even though I personally didn’t want it. I want to be his. I want to be his… ***

But I was too numb to give a damn about anything except the ache in my heart. I then focused on my sister, to the small life inside of her. I tried to do something, anything at all, to show some excitement, some happiness for her, but it was so hard when all that came to mind was how he chose her over me—how he was going to be a father to her child and not mine.

I would always measure myself against my brother. He was the only reason I was born in the first place. When Scott had been twelve, he was diagnosed with leukemia. His best hope had been a bone marrow transplant, but neither of our parents had been a good enough match. Mom and Dad took a chance that a sibling might be, though. And then I hadn’t been.

I will take everything. I remembered the day I tried to take my sister's husband. I remembered his face. He looked at me with disgust. He chose her over me. He always chose her. Everyone always chose her. Not anymore. Now I choose. I choose to destroy them. I choose to take what is mine. I will erase their memory. I will take their legacy.

What if it wanted me here too? So the next day I gave him that. I watched his face when I said it. I watched him go still and stare at me like the ground had moved under his feet. And I know that was a rotten thing to do. I know it. I’d do it again. You have to understand something about me. Nobody has ever picked me first. Not my parents, who picked my brother. Not my brother, who picked his fists. Not the guy in high school who kissed me behind the gym and then told everybody I tried to jump him. Not the one after that, or the one after that. I have spent twenty-two years being the second choice, the backup plan, the person people are nice to until something better walks in.

I had just never let myself look. "Listen to me," I said. My voice was a mess. I did not care. "Are you listening?" He nodded against my hands. "You are my little brother," I said. "Of course I choose you. Over the council. Over anyone."

Because I wasn’t his sister. And I didn’t want to be. I wanted him to look at me the way he looked at her. The way his eyes lit up whenever Tina entered the room. The way he always, always chose her. But instead, I was just the sister figure. The girl who tagged along. The one who stayed invisible unless he needed something. “Frank,” I said quietly, “I can’t go. I have work.” That seemed to catch his attention. He looked almost proud of himself when he said, “Oh, about that…”

“Sia. Speak.” I stepped forward without hesitation. “I do not know why the First Heir is saying this,” I said. “I have only ever regarded him as an elder brother. Never anything more. If there is a wolf he means, perhaps it is not me, but my half-sister, Veya.” Raine stared at me, panic flashing across his face. “No, Sia. I meant you. I have always meant you. How can you…” Then something seemed to click in his mind.