The Alpha Who Marked the Wrong Sister

The silver moon hung low over Blackwood Pack territory, fat and bright, as if it had come down from the sky just to watch her heart get crushed. Lyra Vale stood in the shadows at the edge of the ceremonial clearing, fingers twisted tightly in the simple white dress her mother had forced her to wear. The fabric was soft, almost see-through under the moonlight, and it made her feel even more exposed than usual. She was only here because tradition demanded both twins be present when the Alpha claimed his Luna. No one expected her to be chosen. No one ever expected anything from her. Across the clearing, her sister Selene glowed like she had been born for this exact moment. Long golden hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves. The deep crimson dress she wore clung to every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Pack members whispered her name with open admiration. Future Luna. Perfect match. Destined. Lyra’s chest ached with a familiar, quiet pain. She had loved Kael Blackwood since she was sixteen years old. Quietly. Hopelessly. From the corners of every room while her sister laughed on his arm at gatherings. She had never spoken a single word of it to anyone. What would have been the point? Alphas did not choose the quiet twin who preferred books and long walks in the forest. They chose the one who shone the brightest. Tonight he would mark Selene, and Lyra would smile through it the way she always did. She had practiced the empty expression in the mirror earlier that evening until her face no longer looked like it belonged to her. The drums stopped. A heavy silence fell over the clearing. Alpha Kael Blackwood stepped into the circle. He was taller than most of the males in the pack, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell slightly into those cold gray eyes. The entire pack seemed to hold its breath under the weight of his presence. At twenty-six, he already carried the kind of authority that made stronger wolves lower their heads without thinking. He looked every inch the future of Blackwood—powerful, untouchable, already half legend. His gaze swept slowly across the crowd… and landed on Selene. Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. This was it. The moment she had been dreading and preparing for all her life. Kael’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Something dark and restless flickered behind his eyes. His wolf was close to the surface tonight. Everyone could feel it in the air—the sharp, electric tension that always came before a claiming. He began walking toward Selene with slow, deliberate steps. Lyra lowered her eyes to the ground, already preparing the empty smile she would wear for the rest of her life. She focused on the feeling of the cool grass beneath her bare feet and the distant sound of the river. Anything to keep herself from falling apart in front of everyone. Then the air changed. A low, dangerous growl rolled through the clearing—raw, possessive, and nothing like the controlled Alpha the pack had come to know. The sound made the hair on the back of Lyra’s neck stand up. Kael’s steps faltered. His head snapped to the side as if something invisible had yanked hard on a chain inside his chest. Those cold gray eyes locked onto Lyra with an intensity that stole the breath from her lungs. The world narrowed to the space between them. Lyra’s heart slammed violently against her ribs. She took a half-step back without meaning to, confusion flooding her. This was wrong. He was supposed to look at Selene. Only Selene. Not her. Never her. Kael’s expression twisted, almost like he was fighting a war inside himself. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. A muscle jumped hard in his jaw. For a moment he looked almost… angry. “Alpha?” Selene’s sweet voice cut through the thick silence, edged with the first sharp hint of panic. “Kael? What’s wrong?” He didn’t answer her. He moved. One moment he stood in the center of the circle. The next he was standing directly in front of Lyra, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his large body. The rich scent of pine, steel, and something wild and untamed filled her lungs until she felt dizzy. His wolf was fully awake now, staring out through those gray eyes with pure, undiluted claim. Lyra’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “Kael…?” His hand shot out and caught the back of her neck. Not gentle. Not careful. Possessive. His fingers tangled in her dark hair as he tilted her head slightly to the side, exposing the curve of her throat. The pack exploded into shocked, disbelieving murmurs. Selene’s scream cut through them all like a blade. “What are you doing?! Kael, stop!” Kael’s head lowered. His lips brushed the sensitive skin just below Lyra’s ear. She felt the sharp points of his fangs graze her flesh, and a full-body shiver ran through her. “Mine,” he growled, the word more animal than man. Then he bit down. White-hot pain exploded through her shoulder and neck. At the same time, something far deeper than pain tore through her entire being. The mate bond slammed into place with the force of a breaking dam. Heat and electricity and something ancient roared through her blood. Lyra’s knees buckled. A broken sound left her throat. Kael’s strong arm locked around her waist instantly, holding her upright against his hard chest as his fangs sank deeper, marking her for every single wolf present to see and scent. His other hand stayed firm at the back of her neck, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. The bond roared to life between them—raw, furious, absolute, and terrifyingly permanent. When he finally pulled back, blood stained his lips a deep crimson. His eyes were no longer cold. They burned with something dark and irreversible. Lyra stared up at him, trembling violently, the taste of fate still sharp on her tongue. Her hand rose shakily to the throbbing mark on her neck. She could already feel it healing, sealing the claim into her skin forever. Behind them, Selene’s voice rose into a hysterical, broken shriek. “That was supposed to be me!” Kael didn’t look at her sister. He didn’t look at the stunned, whispering pack. He only looked at Lyra, something dark and possessive settling deep into his expression as his thumb brushed once—almost gently—over the fresh mark. He had marked the wrong sister. And his wolf had never been more certain of anything in his life.