My Alpha Chose His Sister Over His Mate

The hallway leading back to the Blue Suite was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of the emergency lights near the floor. My heart hammered against my ribs, not from fear, but from the adrenaline of what I carried in my pocket. The USB drive felt heavy, like a loaded gun.

I turned the corner, my hand already reaching for the door handle, when a shadow detached itself from the wall.

"Where have you been?"

Grayson.

He stepped into the sliver of light, his features sharp and predatory. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal the tense muscles of his neck. He smelled of whiskey and agitation.

"I was getting water," I lied smoothly. My voice didn't shake. That was new.

Grayson narrowed his eyes, stepping closer until he was invading my personal space. Usually, his proximity made me cower, my Omega instincts screaming at me to submit to the Alpha. But tonight, the fear was dull, muffled by the ice in my veins.

He inhaled deeply, a frown creasing his forehead. "You smell different."

He leaned in, his nose brushing the curve of my neck. I stiffened, fighting the urge to shove him away. "You don't smell like fear anymore," he murmured, sounding genuinely confused. "You smell like... rain. And ozone."

He planted a hand on the wall beside my head, boxing me in. His amber eyes searched mine, looking for the girl who used to beg for his crumbs. She wasn't there.

"Why are you doing this, Wrenlee?" he asked, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "Why bring the Lycan here? Why save Sage after everything?"

He was looking for redemption. He wanted me to say I was doing it for him, or for the pack. He wanted to believe that despite seven years of torture, I was still his loyal little mate.

I looked him dead in the eye. "To give you exactly what you deserve, Alpha."

Grayson blinked, and then a slow, arrogant smirk spread across his face. He mistook my threat for devotion. He thought I meant he deserved his sister back, his happy ending.

"Good girl," he said, patting my cheek with a condescending tap. "Maybe once she wakes up, I'll let you move back into the main house. The basement, of course. But it's warmer than the shed."

He pushed off the wall and walked away, whistling a low tune. I watched his retreating back, my fingers curling into fists.

*Enjoy the tune, Grayson,* I thought. *It's your funeral march.*

***

The next morning, the sky over Seattle was the color of a bruised plum. Heavy storm clouds churned above the territory, threatening a downpour that would wash the world clean.

I didn't wear the servant's gray rags. I didn't wear the silk dress Calvin had lent me. instead, I found a simple black dress in the back of the guest closet—something left behind by a previous dignitary. It fit loosely, the hem brushing my knees.

It was black for mourning. Black for Buster.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Calvin entered, dressed in a ceremonial white tunic embroidered with gold thread. He looked regal, but his eyes were kind as they swept over me.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid. "Drink this. It's concentrated Valerian and Moonflower."

I took it, looking at him questioningly.

"The rejection," he said softly. "It's going to feel like your soul is being ripped in half, Wren. This will dull the physical pain. It won't stop the emotional blow, but it will keep you standing."

I downed it in one gulp. It tasted like bitter herbs and honey. "I don't need it to be dull," I said, handing the vial back. "I want to feel it break. I want to know it's gone."

Calvin nodded solemnly. "Let's go. The lion's den awaits."

We walked to the Pack Hospital in silence. The rain had started, a light drizzle that misted my face. The hospital wing was a sterile, white building attached to the main house. Inside, the air smelled of antiseptic and anxiety.

The VIP room was crowded. Gamma Marcus stood by the door, arms crossed. Three pack elders sat in the corner, whispering amongst themselves. And in the center of the room, lying on a bed surrounded by machines, was Sage.

She looked peaceful. Her skin was pale as porcelain, her blonde hair fanned out over the pillow. If you didn't know her, you'd think she was an angel. I knew better. I knew the rot that lived beneath that skin.

Grayson was pacing at the foot of the bed. When we entered, he stopped. "It's time. Do it."

"Patience, Alpha," Calvin said coolly. He moved to the bedside, checking the monitors.

I hung back near the wall, where the main diagnostic screen was mounted. It was a massive sixty-inch display showing Sage's heart rate, brain activity, and oxygen levels. A thick bundle of cables ran from the back of it to a console on the counter.

"I need to sync the timestamp for the Royal records," I said, my voice blending into the hum of the machines. No one looked at me. To them, I was just part of the furniture.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. My hands were steady thanks to the potion. I plugged the USB-C cable into my phone, and the other end into the open HDMI port on the side of the diagnostic console.

The screen flickered for a second, then returned to the heart monitor display. Connection established. The video file was queued, ready to play at the touch of a button.

"Begin," Calvin commanded.

The room went deadly silent. Calvin uncorked a crystal flask containing a golden, glowing liquid—the Elixir of Awakening, distilled from rare flowers found only in the Lycan Kingdom. He tilted Sage's head back and carefully poured the liquid into her feeding tube.

"*Excitare, anima dormiens,*" Calvin chanted, his voice resonating with power. "*Redi ad lucem.*"

The air in the room grew heavy, charged with static. The hair on my arms stood up. A golden light began to emanate from Calvin's hands, seeping into Sage's chest.

*Beep... Beep... Beep...*

The heart monitor, which had been a slow, rhythmic sluggish line for seven years, began to speed up. The pitch grew higher, more urgent.

Grayson leaned forward, gripping the bedrail so hard his knuckles turned white. "Sage?"

Color flooded Sage's cheeks, turning the porcelain to a flushed pink. Her eyelids fluttered. A gasp tore through the room as her chest heaved, taking in a deep, ragged breath on her own.

Then, her eyes snapped open.

They were the same icy blue I remembered. The eyes that had watched me scream while she lit a match. She blinked, disoriented, her gaze darting around the room until it landed on Grayson.

"Gray?" she croaked, her voice rusty from disuse.

Grayson let out a choked sob. "I'm here, Sage. I'm here."

I stood by the monitor, my thumb hovering over the 'Play' button on my phone screen. The miracle had happened. Now came the reckoning.