My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

AVA’S POV

Daniel’s words didn’t matter.

For two days, I repeated that lie often enough that I almost managed to believe it.

‘I meant without me.’

Daniel had always been infuriatingly bossy, forever telling everyone what they should or shouldn’t be doing, whether it was his place or not. Those four words had no right to haunt me like a bad song stuck in my head.

Except they did.

They followed me while I trained, while I ate, while I tried to study, and especially when I lay in bed at night staring at the ceiling, wondering whether he’d actually meant what I thought he meant.

He couldn’t have, though. He had a girlfriend, and I had no business reading into something that was decidedly nothing.

I needed to get that damn boy out of my head.

So, of course, when Bree suggested a bonfire party in the woods two nights later, I jumped at the chance.

‘Don’t go to parties alone.’

Yeah, Daniel Blackthorne didn’t tell me what I could and couldn’t do.

I was going to spend time with my friends without wondering where he was or what he was doing. I would live my own life, just as I was perfectly entitled to do.

This time, however, I wasn’t going to drink.

One mortifying amnesiac encounter was enough for a lifetime.

The bonfire had been built in a clearing surrounded by towering trees, their branches forming a dark canopy above us as sparks rose from the flames and disappeared into the night.

Music played from a portable speaker near the logs, and groups of teenagers were scattered around the fire, talking, laughing, and passing around drinks.

I settled onto a fallen log between Bree and Yvonne, nursing a cup of root beer and immersing myself in their conversation about a concert Bree had attended last fall.

For the first half hour, it worked—I could pretend I was a normal teenager whose biggest concern was the mosquitoes feasting on my bare legs.

Then I heard Cindy’s voice.

I knew when she arrived, and had elected to pretend she didn’t exist, but her voice was so obnoxiously loud it echoed through half the clearing.

She was sitting on the other side of the fire, holding court with a group of girls who were hanging on to her every word, and the smirk on her face told me she reveled in the attention.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” she gushed. “And he’s chosen me. Once I get my wolf, I’m sure the mate bond will click into place like”—she snapped her fingers—“that.”

My grip on the cup tightened. She couldn’t have possibly been talking about what I thought she was talking about.

One of the girls gasped, "Seriously? I’ve seen him at pack runs, but—you actually met Daniel’s wolf? Like face to face?"

Cindy laughed. "Of course. I was the first person he showed after his parents."

My stomach dropped.

For a moment, the music, laughter, and crackling fire were drowned out by the sudden rush of blood in my ears.

Daniel’s wolf.

Daniel had gotten his wolf.

And I was finding out from fucking Cindy.

Cindy, who he’d shown. Who he’d chosen?

I stared into my cup, watching the firelight tremble across the surface of the liquid until it blurred.

Daniel knew when I got my first period, told all the worst jokes in the world to distract me from the pain.

I knew about the time he accidentally dropped Theo and made him wear hats till the bump went down.

He knew I had occasional nightmares about the fire that destroyed my home and took my grandmother.

I knew he sometimes had inexplicable dreams that made him wake up shivering and drenched in sweat.

That was what Daniel and I did: we shared things.

Or at least, I had thought we did.

I’d managed to push aside the disappointment and hurt I felt about him and Cindy, but this—this settled like an anchor in my chest, and I couldn’t quite breathe right around it.

Maybe Daniel hadn’t told me because he didn’t think it mattered.

Maybe I wasn’t important enough anymore.

I took a long swallow of my drink, which now tasted like tar, and forced myself to focus on Bree and Yvonne’s chatter about a fall music festival.

And when someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare, I agreed mostly because I needed something else to occupy my mind.

The game started harmlessly enough, with ridiculous questions and embarrassing stories, but as the night progressed, the dares became increasingly personal and explicit.

Nothing I couldn’t handle, but enough to make me increasingly uncomfortable as everyone tried to outdo one another.

When Bryce dared Hannah to give him a lap dance, I considered inventing an excuse to leave. But then someone laughed and pointed toward the edge of the clearing.

"You’ve got to be shitting me. Look who’s here."

My eyes shot in that direction, and I cursed myself when my heart skipped at the sight of Daniel stepping into the firelight.

He wore dark jean shorts and a black T-shirt that clung to his torso, and for one stupid, awestruck second, I forgot every reason I’d been trying so hard not to care about him.

His eyes found mine almost immediately, and their corners crinkled even as his lips pressed into a straight line.

I heard the reproach loud and clear, as if he’d barked it in my ear: ‘I told you not to go to parties without me.’

I swallowed and looked away. I didn’t want to be able to read him so well. I didn’t want to be so attuned to him.

I didn’t want to have to blink hard to stave off the sudden moisture that gathered in my eyes when I heard Cindy gasp in delight, “Daniel, you made it! Sit next to me.”

She made room beside her, patting the log expectantly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel hesitate. And then sit beside her.

I hated the stab of disappointment that followed.

So I focused on the game.

Or tried to.

But my attention kept drifting to Daniel, and every time my resolve faltered and my eyes flicked his way, I caught him already watching me.

I looked away instantly, pretending I was far more interested in whoever had the bottle.

So, naturally, the bottle eventually landed on Daniel.

“What’ll it be?” Bryce called out teasingly.

“Surely the future Alpha isn’t chicken enough to choose truth,” Ryan snickered.

I rolled my eyes at the same time Daniel rolled his.

They were wasting their time trying to bait him. Daniel was so confident in who he was, juvenile tactics like that rolled off his back—which he displayed by folding his arms and announcing, “Truth.”

There was a chorus of disappointed groans, but before Bryce could think of a question, Yvonne leaned forward and asked, “Is it true Cindy has met your wolf?”

I don’t know who was more shocked by that question, Daniel or Cindy.

She went ramrod straight, and he frowned. “What?”

“Yeah,” Bree joined in. “Cindy’s been telling everyone she met your wolf and that you two are practically mates.”

Daniel shifted away from Cindy as if she’d turned into a live electrical pole, his face a mask of shock. “What?!”

In the bonfire light, Cindy’s face was as white as a sheet, and she ran a hand through her hair. “Actually, I—”

“Look!” Yvonne pointed to the bracelet around Cindy’s wrist and the identical one around Daniel’s. “You two even have matching bracelets.”

“Matching—”

Daniel frowned down at his wrist and shook his head. “Sophia made this for me. She has a fit if I take it off, so I never do—what the hell are you guys talking about?”

Yvonne, bless her little troublemaking heart, snorted. “Interesting. Cindy, what are we talking about?”

Cindy shot to her feet like a firework, and before anyone could say anything or stop her, she darted off into the woods.

The silence that blanketed the clearing was so absolute, all I could hear was the crackling of the fire and the thundering of my heart.

I couldn’t help it; my gaze immediately went to Daniel.

Our eyes met across the fire, and something fizzy and dangerous unfurled inside my chest.

He hadn’t given Cindy the bracelet.

He hadn’t shown her his wolf.

The knot that had squeezed my heart since the day I returned and overheard Cindy suddenly loosened, and I was left dizzy with all the air I could suddenly breathe.

“Ava. Your turn.”

I tore my gaze away from Daniel to see the bottle pointed directly at me.

I didn’t even think when I said, “Dare.”

Bryce leaned forward, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “I dare you to go make out in the woods with someone.”

A chorus of suggestive oohs erupted, and I rolled my eyes.

Guess I was going to have to take alcohol after all. I leaned forward, reaching for one of the small cups of punishment shots when a sharp voice sliced through the clearing.

“Absolutely fucking not.”