My mate's true love is my sister

Hailey's smirk was venomous as she held up the disgusting gift. "Evelyn, maybe if you wore my clothes, Brandon would love you a little more."

Her words dripped with mockery. "I almost feel sorry for you. In the Hartley pack, you're my stand-in. To Brandon, you're not even that. If I were you, I'd have bolted ages ago. You know, Brandon's got endless energy when he's with me, but-"

I couldn't take it anymore. My hand shot out, knocking the box from her grip, the contents spilling across the rooftop. "Enough!" I snapped, my voice low and dangerous. "Know your place, Hailey. I'm still Brandon's mate. Push me again, and I'll march downstairs and show everyone what you've been doing with my mate behind my back."

Before she could respond, Hailey crumpled to the ground, fake tears streaming down her face. "Evelyn, I'm so sorry!" she wailed. "I'll stay away from Brandon, I swear. If you hate me this much, I'll book a ticket and leave the pack tonight. I won't be in your way anymore."

Right on cue, Brandon stormed over, scooping Hailey into his arms like she was made of glass. Franklin charged in behind him, not even bothering to ask what happened before his hand cracked across my face. "Evelyn!" he roared. "Hailey's the true Hartley she-wolf. Know your place! If you ever hurt her again, don't expect me to care about our so-called family bond!"

The slap left my ears ringing, my cheek burning. I turned to him, lips trembling but voice steady. "She started it. She-"

Brandon cut me off, his brows furrowed. "Enough. We all know Hailey. She'd never start trouble. You must've done something to her."

He stepped closer, his voice cold. "I know you're upset I didn't claim you tonight, but we agreed to keep our bond secret. What's with the drama now? Evelyn, I'm disappointed in you."

He didn't stop there. "You're not coming home tonight. Stay here and think about what you've done." With that, he carried Hailey off the rooftop, leaving me behind.

I clutched my chest, fighting back tears, desperate to explain. I rushed to the door, but Brandon kicked it shut. The heavy wood slammed into my hand, and pain exploded through me. I collapsed, my hand bleeding, my body shaking. The agony was so intense I couldn't even scream.

Blood pooled on the floor, my hand torn open. I leaned against the wall, tears breaking free as I whispered, "Brandon, we're done. For good."

The servants found me and rushed me to the hospital, my hand a mess. The healer wanted to give me something to numb the pain, but I refused. I needed to feel it, to burn this lesson into my bones.

It took over a dozen stitches to close the wound. The healer warned me to take it easy or it'd scar. My hand was infected, so they kept me overnight.

My phone buzzed. It was Miles.

"Happy birthday, Evelyn," he said, his voice warm and steady.

My throat tightened, and my voice came out hoarse. "Thanks. You're the only one who's said that to me today."

He paused, picking up on the tremor in my voice. "You don't sound okay. You crying? Someone hurt you? Who?"

His concern wrapped around me like a warm blanket-the only kindness I'd felt all night. I forced a smile, even though he couldn't see it. "I'm fine. Just got caught up in a sappy TV show."

Miles went quiet for a moment, clearly not buying it, but he didn't push. "Alright. But lay off the late-night TV-it's bad for your eyes. I've got a birthday gift for you. I'll bring it when I come get you in a week."

Then, softer, he added, "If someone's messing with you, don't just take it. Tell me, and I'll handle it."

Brandon used to say things like that, back when I thought he cared. Now, he didn't even remember.

I managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Miles. It's late-you should get some rest."

After we hung up, I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, the pain in my hand fading for the first time all night.

The next morning, I woke with one goal in mind: get those papers drawn up to break my bond with Brandon. I called a lawyer and got to work.