When He Rejected Me for My Sister, I Mated His Alpha Brother

Ryker seemed to be in high spirits, and when we returned to our home, he pulled out a thick stack of property deeds from a hidden compartment in his closet. I flipped through them briefly, recognizing several renowned businesses—among them a high-end restaurant frequented by the city’s elite. The annual profits from these establishments alone could sustain multiple packs.

“Luna,” Ryker began, his voice steady but warm, “these are the businesses I’ve quietly built over the years. Only my father knows about them. From now on, they’re yours to manage.”

So, the forty-eight crates of gifts he’d brought during our marking ceremony hadn’t been from his father after all. From that day on, I found myself too busy to bother with the petty squabbles of the Taylor pack. Instead, I dove headfirst into learning the intricacies of managing Ryker’s vast empire.

When Ryker’s father discovered that his mother, Davina, had been deliberately undermining us, he erupted during dinner—a rare display of anger from the typically composed man.

“What pack operates like this? Our society thrives on order and hierarchy. By favoring Omar and his mate, you’re sending a message to everyone that the Taylor pack is in disarray. Is that the legacy you want?”

Davina, a woman who’d grown up in hardship and knew nothing of pack politics, didn’t care about appearances or tradition. All she cared about was ensuring her biological grandson, Omar, didn’t lose out to Ryker, the outsider she’d never accepted.

“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped, her voice sharp and bitter. “You’re defending a rogue while turning your back on your own blood. Don’t forget, you came from me. You have no right to lecture me!”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words pressing down on us all. Ryker’s face remained calm, but I could see the tension in his jaw, his left hand clenched tightly under the table.

I reached over, placing my hand over his, my gaze meeting his in a silent reassurance that he didn’t need to fight this battle. Then, I stepped in to mediate, explaining that I had willingly stepped back from managing the pack’s affairs to focus on Ryker’s businesses and his health.

It wasn’t out of some noble self-sacrifice or a desire to avoid conflict. The truth was, Ryker’s businesses were overwhelming. I spent hours each day poring over ledgers, leaving me no energy to deal with pack politics.

The rumors about Ryker’s supposed weakness, which I’d once dismissed as gossip, turned out to be a carefully crafted façade. Playing the role of the frail Alpha had its advantages—it kept the rogues at bay and allowed us to operate without drawing too much attention.

So, I followed his lead, using “health issues” as an excuse to avoid unnecessary responsibilities. Besides, Ryker wasn’t Davina’s biological grandson, and pushing too hard against her would only invite more trouble. Better to step back gracefully and let her actions speak for themselves.

For now, we had bigger things to focus on.