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My Adopted Sister is my Mate

My Adopted Sister is my Mate

"And the night we met again," I whisper, "my wolf recognized you." Silence. "Recognized me how?" she asks carefully. My chest burns even as my pulse thunders in my ears. "As my mate." The word falls between us like shattered glass. Avara laughs. "That's not funny." "I know." "You're my brother." "I know." I find myself inching closer... closer. "Thats impossible. This is sick." "I know," I say again, voice breaking now. "I fought it. Gods, I fought it. I tried to convince myself my instincts were wrong, that my wolf was broken, that I was losing my mind." Her hands shake. "Stop." "I can't," I say hoarsely. "Because every second I'm near you, it gets worse. Because my wolf wants to kneel at your feet and tear the world apart to protect you." ................................. Fifteen years after vanishing from the Silvermoon pack, Kaeden Vane returns, older, lethal, and right on time at thirty-three, the age decreed by the Moon Goddess for succession, having spent years years amassing forbidden knowledge, mastering dangerous magic, and preparing to destroy his father, the man who murdered his mother in a bid for godhood. His return reunites him with Avara Vane, his seemingly fragile, human adopted sister that Silas, their father, adopted as an 'act of mercy'. She is a Nyxarel, whose parents were slaughtered by the man she calls father and who has been conveniently placed and subdued by his father, until it is the right time to use her blood to attain immortality. And one touch is all it takes for Kaeden's wolf to recognize her as his mate, an impossible, unforgivable bond...
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Chapter 7

KAEDEN I lean against the stone railing of one of the dark balconies of the mansion, seething, my father's words ringing in my ears. To my long-lost son, finally back to his senses, at just the... perfect time. I anticipated this, knew that he was going to slowly ensure that the hearts of the entire pack would be against me. I just didn't anticipate the build up of anger that I would feel whilst watching it happen in real time. I straighten myself. I really shouldn't bother myself so much, reeling over his words. Not when there is urgent action to be done. Not when I need to move more quickly in showing my pack why I truly left. Elias Kore, the lorekeeper, was one of the few people that I had informed of my plans to leave the pack and why and ever since I left, he has acted as my inside man, feeding me with information about the pack, my father's usurpation of power and forceful expansion of the pack, of the depletion of the magical creatures in my father's reign, of my father's plans for immortality. Tonight, he informed me of something terrifying. Father has brought in a Lamashtu demon, a terrifying creature of the darkest pits of magic, to the mansion. He said that my father intends to begin the rituals to unnatural immortality. And he informed me that he believes that my father may have in his possession, tucked away in some dungeon or something, a Nyxarel, the only one of this generation, and that with the Nyxarel in his possession, he finally has the major ingredient to initiate the process of immortality. But I have a different theory as to exactly who this Nyxarel is. In fact, I believe that father has had the Nyxarel in his possession for quite some time and has just spent time gathering other extraneous requirements for the ritual. I believe that father has taken this Nyxarel, essentially his blood sacrifice, raised it on quiet obedience, and now believes that the time is ripe to commence, or perhaps, is rushing the process because I pose a threat to him. I believe the Nyxarel is Avara. I mean, Elias informed me that there is a chance that whatever rituals that needed to commence would commence today, and I did witness father drawing her to a corner to give her an order, probably to meet him at some place where the ritual is supposed to take place. Anyways, I need to certify if this theory of mine is true. To protect her, Fenris moans, protect our Mate. I groan, instantly feeling sick and lightheaded. It's been just two years, but the feelings that I have had to fight feel like ones that I have had for years. The weight of the attraction I feel towards her, everything about her, her voice, her smile, the way she glams herself in flowy silk gowns and bright diamond jewellery. Her scent. I feel an unwelcome feeling flow down and pinch myself in a useless attempt to get my head out of the pit it has fallen to. It doesn't matter that she is adopted. It doesn't matter that we are both essentially strangers with the same surname and given father. I refuse to be sexually attracted to my sister. I'm helping her just as I would help any other person that Silas intends to murder for his selfish purposes, I chide my wolf. Fenris scoffs. My mind hovers to how Avara sat at the table at tonight's banquet, quiet, in her beautiful green silk gown, acting as she has been conditioned to act, a the obedient little daughter, a ghost in her own home. I'm certain that he has manipulated her with the tale of obligation, filled her ears with stories of how she owes him for choosing to save her. And now, whatever her feelings may be, she must feel morally mandated to choose whatever path he picks for her, even if that path leads to her death. My mind suddenly flashes to Julian, who sat beside her, his hand lingering on her waist possessively and a primal urge to rip the Beta's son apart limb from limb overwhelms me. No, I cannot let myself be distracted like this, pining away while her life is on the line. I need to act quickly. The 'medication' Yes, of course. There must be a reason that my father has been making her down that foul liquid that smells faintly like poison. Maybe discovering exactly what it is will be the start gate to uncovering her history and father's plans. I look up at the darkened windows of the west wing of the mansion, her wing. She was definitely not thrilled the last time she saw me there, and I know that she will be even less pleased if she were to find me today. But between her feelings and her life, I am inclined to pick her life, with the added advantage of ridding the pack of the parasitic dictator that has ruled over them for far too long. Because I just have the feeling that if Avara is the key to his immortality, then she is also the key to his destruction. She has been summoned to wherever it is that my father intends to carry out his shenanigans, which means that she will not be in her quarters, and which means that this is the perfect time to move. I immediately set out to the west wing, moving with the silence of a predator. None of the floor guards dare to question me as I bypass them, reaching Avara's quarters very quickly. Her door is locked, so I press my palm against the wood, feeling the mechanism and with a sharp, controlled burst of strength, I force the latch open. The room smells faintly like her, of vanilla and wild berries and storm clouds. My wolf growls, his claws raking against the interior of my ribs. My mind swarms, and it takes me a long moment to get myself grounded again. I move for her wardrobe and begin quickly and yet painstakingly hunting for the bottle. Before I can move further, I catch the medication seated on her bedside cabinet. I move towards it, and pick it. It's a small brown bottle with no label. I unscrew the cap and take a cautious whiff. Belladonna. That's what it smells like, well primarily, which is already bad enough. But I catch a whiff of something that smells even worse. In my bag, I hunt for a tiny vial and carefully extract a bit of the medication. I know some friends that can help me detect exactly what it is and why she is being fed with poison. I turn to leave, and freeze. "Looking for something, Kaeden?"

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