My Mate Believed My Sister’s Lies and Banished Me

The antiseptic sting of the pack infirmary was sharper than any blade. It smelled of bleach and impending death. My father, the once-great warrior of Silver Mist, lay withered in the hospital bed, his skin the color of wet ash. The Healers called it Sanguine Decay—a rot that ate a wolf’s blood from the inside out. He needed a transfusion from a direct blood relative, and he needed it tonight.

Iris sat in the corner, wrapped in a plush cashmere blanket, looking like a porcelain doll held together by glue. She claimed her "broken wolf" made her constitution too weak to handle a blood draw. She claimed the stress alone would kill her.

"Test her again!" My mother’s voice was a shriek that peeled the paint from the walls. She gripped the Healer’s arm, her nails digging into his white coat. She pointed a trembling finger at me. "She has to be a match. She’s the healthy one. She’s the strong one."

I sat on the exam table, a cotton ball taped to the crook of my arm. I had given three vials. I had prayed to the Moon Goddess that, just this once, I could be the daughter they wanted. That my blood could wash away the disappointment in their eyes and buy my way back into my family.

Dr. Evans, the Head Healer, walked back into the room. He held a clipboard against his chest like a shield. He didn't look at me. He looked at my mother and shook his head slowly.

"I'm sorry, Luna Bennett. Chloe's blood markers are incompatible. If we transfuse her blood, his body will reject it. It would kill him instantly."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

"Get out," my mother whispered.

"Mom, please, I tried—"

"I said get out!" She spun on me, her eyes wild with a mixture of grief and pure hatred. "You are useless! You survived the fire, you kept your wolf, and for what? You can't even save your own father! You are a waste of blood, Chloe. A useless, breathing waste of space!"

I slid off the table, my legs numb. I looked at Iris. For a split second, through the veil of her theatrical tears, I saw it. Her cheeks were flushed with health, not fever. Her scent wasn't acrid with sickness; it was rich, potent. She was a match. I knew it in my gut. She was compatible, but she was letting our father die because saving him would require her to drop the "fragile victim" act. She would rather be the tragic orphan than the savior.

I walked out of the room, the sound of my mother’s weeping chasing me down the hall like a physical blow.

***

The rain lashed against my face, cold and unforgiving. Being demoted to Delta meant taking the shifts no one else wanted. Tonight, that meant the eastern ridge, a mud-slicked path bordering the unchecked wilderness of the Rogue lands.

"Sector Four clear," I muttered into my radio, though I knew no one was listening. The static was my only companion.

A twig snapped. Not by the wind.

I spun around, shifting my weight into a defensive crouch, but the blow came from the shadows. A heavy body slammed into me, driving the air from my lungs. I hit the mud hard, tasting iron and dirt.

Rogues. Three of them.

But as I scrambled back, claws extending, the scent hit me. Unwashed bodies, yes. But underneath the filth? *Laundry detergent. Coffee. Silver Mist pack territory.*

These weren't wild Rogues. They had been inside the borders recently.

"Traitor!" I snarled, lunging at the nearest one. I didn't shift—Nova was too weak, suppressed by my own despair—but I fought with human fists and Delta grit. I landed a solid kick to a knee, hearing a satisfying crunch, but the other two were on me instantly.

Teeth sank into my shoulder. I screamed, thrashing as they pinned me down. The leader raised a serrated knife, aiming for my throat.

Then, the earth shook.

A massive black blur tore through the trees. *Titan.*

Cole’s wolf didn't just attack; he obliterated. He hit the leader with the force of a freight train, snapping the rogue's neck before the body even hit the ground. The other two scrambled, yelping in terror, but Titan was a shadow of death. He tore through them, leaving silence and steam rising from the bloody mud.

Cole shifted back, naked and heaving, the rain washing the blood from his chest. He didn't offer me a hand. He just stared down at me, his eyes cold and hard.

"You're careless, Delta," he spat. "If I hadn't been tracking their scent..."

"They didn't just cross the border, Cole," I gasped, clutching my bleeding shoulder. I crawled toward the body of the leader. "They smell like us. Like the Pack House."

I patted down the rogue's tactical vest. My fingers brushed hard plastic. A burner phone.

I pulled it out. The screen was cracked but active. One unread message flashed on the screen, glowing in the gloom.

*Target isolated on East Ridge. Make it look like an accident. - I.B.*

I.B. Iris Bennett.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Look," I said, stumbling to my feet and thrusting the phone at Cole. "Read it! 'I.B.' It's Iris! She hired them!"

Cole snatched the phone from my hand. He looked at the screen, rain dripping from his nose. His expression didn't shift to anger at her. It shifted to disgust at *me*.

"You think I'm stupid?" Cole asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Cole, the evidence is right th—"

*CRACK.*

Cole dropped the phone into the mud and brought his heel down. He ground it into the earth, shattering the plastic and glass until it was nothing but debris.

"No!" I shrieked, dropping to my knees, digging frantically through the mud for the pieces. "What are you doing? That was proof!"

"It was a plant," Cole growled, grabbing me by my good arm and hauling me up. "Iris is in the infirmary, weeping over your dying father. She can barely walk, let alone coordinate a hit. You typed that message. You planted this phone to frame your own sister."

"I didn't! She's lying to you, Cole! She's letting Dad die!"

He shoved me back, hard enough that I stumbled. "Stop it! Your jealousy has turned you into something I don't recognize. You are sick, Chloe. Get back to the barracks before I have you thrown in the cells for insubordination."

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the dark, rainy forest. I stood alone in the mud, clutching the shattered remains of the phone, while the ghost of my mate bond screamed in agony.