When My Fated Mate Chose My Sister, I Burned His Legacy

On my way back to the pack house, Taylor Medina intercepted me.

He looked me up and down, his voice calm but laced with skepticism.

"Eden, you’re back, aren’t you?"

I lowered my gaze, focusing on the faint floral scent lingering on my skin.

Before I found my mate, I used to love the scent of wildflowers.

After I became his mate, Taylor insisted I adopt a more refined scent—one that Louise Bennett favored.

"Alpha Taylor," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "I’m not sure what you mean."

Taylor paused, then smiled faintly.

"That’s good to hear."

After a moment, he added, "But I know how you feel about me. Louise has mentioned it often. She almost rejected the mate bond because of you.

Eden, I’ve loved her my whole life, and I will only ever mate with her. But I’ll treat you like a sister, care for you as family."

The man I’d once called my mate stood before me, his words cutting deeper than any rejection.

I took a shallow breath, steadying myself.

"Alpha Taylor, I understand."

He seemed surprised by my calm response.

Just as he had in our past life, he reached out and grasped my wrist, his touch familiar yet distant.

"Eden, I’ve wronged you. But I’ll make it up to you. There are many promising young wolves in the Medina Pack. I’ll find someone suitable for you."

The scent of pine and snow—his dominant Alpha aura—filled the air, and for a moment, I was back in our old life, sharing quiet moments that felt like forever.

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

"Why Louise?"

Why her and not me?

Taylor didn’t hesitate.

"Louise is radiant, lively. She brings color to my life. And she’s the daughter of an Alpha—a better match for a future Alpha like me."

So that was it.

I’d always suspected, but hearing it confirmed was still a blow.

The last flicker of hope I’d clung to finally extinguished.

I gently pulled my wrist from his grasp.

Taylor looked momentarily taken aback, but I felt oddly at peace.

In this second chance, I’d thought of so many things to say to him.

How we’d grown old together in another life.

How I’d endured his mother’s cruelty because I believed in us.

How the wildflowers outside our home had bloomed so beautifully, and how we’d shared warmth and laughter beneath them.

How, even in death, I’d felt the heat of his tears.

But all those words tangled in my throat, and in the end, only one sentence escaped.

"I understand."

Alpha Taylor, I understand.

This time, I won’t be your mate.