Mated To My Supposed Brother

Mate Scent

The sun was a blistering eye in the center of the sky, baking the red earth of the training grounds until the air shimmered with a dry, suffocating heat.

Aria stood at the edge of the square, her hands still stinging from the rough hemp of the well-rope, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the slow-burning fire in her chest.

She had spent the last hour trying to bury herself in pack chores, desperate to drown out the memory of Liam’s touch and the terrifying weight of the word mate.

But as much as she tried to look away, her gaze was a needle to a north pole, constantly snapping back to the center of the pits.

Liam stood there like a dark monument carved from the very earth he walked upon.

He had just finished a grueling set of combat drills, and his bronze skin was slicked with a sheen of sweat that made the lethal, hard-packed lines of his muscles gleam like polished marble.

He was terrifyingly handsome—a quiet, dangerous man who carried his power with a stillness that made every wolf in the vicinity hold their breath.

Because he was the most formidable warrior the pack had produced in a generation, he was never truly alone in public, but today, the attention around him had reached a fever pitch.

Aria watched, her breath hitching, as the circle of females around him tightened. It wasn't just a few girls anymore; it was a swarm.

Sarah was there, giggling and preening, along with a dozen other females who looked like they were literally thirsting for a single glance from his sapphire eyes.

One girl, a younger scout with a bold streak, was leaning in close, holding a flask of water with a straw to his lips as if he were a king who couldn't be bothered to lift a finger.

They were laughing at his silence, teasing him for his legendary lack of words, and trying every trick in the book to get his attention.

Liam didn't flirt back, but he didn't leave either. He just stood there, a dark and powerful anchor, letting them hover and preen.

He didn't push them away, and he didn't look uncomfortable.

He simply existed in the center of their adoration, his face a mask of calm indifference that was more infuriating than if he had actually been smiling.

The atmosphere shifted from admiring to electric when Liam’s closest friend and sparring partner, Marcus, jogged over to join him.

Marcus was the polar opposite of Liam—loud, boisterous, and flashing a grin that suggested he knew exactly how much trouble he was causing.

"Look at this!" Marcus roared, clapping Liam on his sweaty shoulder. "Our resident ice statue is finally melting! Ladies, be careful, if you get him too worked up, he might actually say more than two words to you!"

The girls went absolutely wild. The sound of their collective squeals and laughter was a jagged edge against Aria’s nerves.

They began to crowd Marcus too, but their primary focus remained on Liam, who merely offered Marcus a dry, unamused look.

The sight of the two most eligible bachelors in the pack standing side-by-side sent the females into a frenzy.

Some were waving fans, others were adjusting their hair, and a few were daring enough to reach out and "accidentally" brush against Liam’s arm as they crowded in to hear Marcus’s jokes.

Aria felt a hot, jagged spike of jealousy pierce her heart, a physical pain so intense it made her vision blur.

She had spent the morning screaming that their bond was a mistake, a sin that would destroy them.

She had pushed him away with both hands, yet seeing these women near him—watching them touch the skin she had memorized by touch alone just hours ago—made her want to roar.

Her wolf was clawing at the walls of her mind, a restless, snarling shadow that wanted to tear the square apart.

I should be happy, she told herself, the thought sounding hollow and bitter.

I should be glad they’re looking at him so they don't look at us. If he finds a lover among them, the secret is safe and wee can go back to being a family.

But the logic was a lie and she knew it.