Marked by Mistake

The smell of vanilla and chaos hit Tessa the moment her twin sister burst through the front door. “Tess!” Haylee called, kicking off her heels and stumbling over the welcome mat. “You gotta help me.” Tessa looked up from her book, blinking as her sister flopped dramatically onto the couch like she had just returned from battle. Her lipstick was smudged, hair windswept, and her dress—a skin-tight red number—was wrinkled like she had slept in it. Knowing Haylee, maybe she had. “Help you with what?” Tessa asked, already bracing herself. Haylee flashed her the kind of grin that usually meant someone was about to get dragged into a mess. “Okay, so. I may have agreed to go to dinner with this guy. Super sweet. Kinda awkward. Said all the right things in his message. You know how it is.” Tessa raised an eyebrow. “You mean you swiped right without reading his bio, agreed to dinner, and now want to ghost him?” “Rude. But yes,” Haylee said without shame. “Look, he’s… just not my type, okay? I thought he’d be rich or, I don’t know, exciting, but he seems like one of those clingy, quiet types. And you know I don’t do clingy.” Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Then say no.” “I can’t,” Haylee groaned. “I already confirmed. Reservation’s under my name, and I bailed on him once already. If I stand him up again, I’m gonna feel like garbage.” “You want me to go instead,” Tessa said flatly. Haylee shot her finger guns. “You always catch on so fast.” “No.” “Please!” “Absolutely not.” Haylee groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling like the universe owed her an apology. Tessa went back to her book, pretending she didn’t hear the quiet, exaggerated sighs being thrown her way like emotional grenades. After three minutes of silence and one dramatic flop off the couch to the floor, Tessa closed her book. “What’s the real reason?” she asked. Haylee looked up from where she lay sprawled across the rug. “What do you mean?” “You’ve lied before to get out of dates. Why this one? Why push it on me?” There was a pause. A short one. Haylee sat up slowly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Because I think he might actually show up. And you know how I am with awkward goodbyes. I can’t handle the guilt trip if he starts crying or something. But you—you’re so gentle. You’d say something kind, make it all feel better. I’m asking you because I know he won’t get hurt if it’s you.” Tessa stared at her sister. Something felt off. But Haylee was looking at her with those familiar wide eyes, the ones they used to share in the mirror before life turned them into opposites. Tessa hesitated. “Where is it?” “Arielle. The rooftop restaurant downtown.” “Haylee, that’s not some hole-in-the-wall place. Who is this guy?” “I don’t know! He just said his name’s Luca. Or Lucien. One of those. But his profile looked kind of plain, like a normal Beta. Maybe a low-tier Alpha. He didn’t seem like a creep, okay? Just... boring. Probably works in finance or something.” Tessa exhaled. “And you want me to dress up like you, go on a date with a stranger, and tell him it’s not going to work out.” “Not a date. Just dinner. You say you’re me, you smile, you eat, you say something sweet like ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ and you walk away.” Tessa stared down at her lap. She had worked so hard to avoid Alphas. She hadn’t left the house unblocked in years. She didn’t like strangers, didn’t trust what her body might do if it was triggered. But Haylee was right about one thing—Tessa was good at being gentle. At softening the blow. It was just one night. “Fine,” Tessa said finally. “But you owe me. And if he gets weird, I’m out.” Haylee squealed, jumped up, and pulled her into a hug. “I love you. You’re the best. I’ll lay out an outfit for you. He’s expecting me at eight. Oh! And wear my red lipstick. You know the one.” “Of course,” Tessa muttered, already regretting everything. An hour later, she stood in front of the mirror wearing a dress that didn’t feel like her and shoes that definitely didn’t feel like her. Her makeup was heavier than usual, her curls styled like Haylee’s. She looked like her sister. Almost. Her inner wolf stirred uneasily beneath her skin. She’d taken a double dose of scent blockers just in case, but there was still that dull thrum in the back of her mind—a reminder that her biology didn’t care what she wanted. Alphas could smell vulnerability, even if you smiled through it. She shook the thought away. It was just dinner. The car dropped her off at Arielle’s, the rooftop restaurant where the rich and reckless dined like gods. She stepped out into the evening air, her heels clicking against marble as she made her way to the hostess. “Reservation under Haylee Greenwood,” she said, voice steady. The hostess smiled and nodded. “Yes. He’s already here. This way.” He. Not boring. Not quiet. Not forgettable. And definitely not poor. Because when she reached the private booth at the far end of the restaurant, overlooking the glittering city, the man standing from the table wasn’t anyone’s idea of average. He was tall. Too tall to be unassuming. His suit looked tailored to a frame built from war or something close to it. His hair was dark, brushed back in a way that made him look both powerful and dangerous. And his eyes—cold, piercing, a sharp silver-blue—locked onto her like a wolf spotting prey. Tessa froze. His scent hit her before her mind could catch up. Spiced cedar. Leather. And something darker beneath it. Something that made her mouth dry and her heartbeat trip. Alpha. No—something more. King Alpha. He smiled slowly, like he’d been waiting for her. “You’re late,” he said, voice low and smooth. Tessa tried to speak, but her throat closed. Her instincts screamed at her to run. “I—I think there’s been a mistake—” “Sit.” That one word crashed through her like a wave. Her knees buckled before she could stop them, and she found herself in the chair opposite him, heart hammering, eyes wide. No. This wasn’t a quiet dinner. This wasn’t a boring Beta with a cheap suit and a kind smile. This was a trap. He tilted his head, studying her. “You’re not Haylee,” he said. Tessa’s breath caught. “You’re sweeter,” he added, lips curling. “And unmarked.” She stood up, but he was faster. He moved around the table like a shadow, placing a hand gently—but firmly—on her shoulder. She stopped breathing. “I don’t know what game your sister is playing,” he said softly, voice close to her ear, “but I like yours better.” Tessa trembled, her body locking up as the weight of his scent crushed her focus. “Please,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean—” He leaned closer, his breath warm on her neck. “But you came anyway,” he murmured. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. And then she felt it. A heat rising under her skin, sharp and sudden. Her scent blockers were failing. Her wolf panicked. His voice dipped lower. “Do you feel that?” he whispered. “That little pull between us?” Tessa swallowed hard. “That’s nature,” he said, his fingers brushing her jaw. “That’s instinct. And you…” He paused, smiling against her skin. “You’re mine.”