Forcefully Marked By My Twin Sister’s Fiancé

Chapter Five

By the time we reached home, I had stopped crying.

That didn't mean I felt any better.

I sat in the back seat of my father's car with my fingers pressed against the mark on my neck. Every few minutes, a strange warmth spread beneath my skin, followed by a dull ache that seemed to settle somewhere deep in my chest.

I hated it.

I hated that I could feel Damon even though he wasn't there. I hated that some part of me seemed to notice his absence, as if my body hadn't gotten the message that I wanted nothing to do with him.

Most of all, I hated knowing Vanessa had walked away believing I'd taken the man she loved.

She hadn't answered any of my calls.

I'd tried three times.

The first call rang until it went to voicemail. The second was rejected. The third didn't even ring.

I lowered my phone and stared at the dark screen.

"She'll need time," my father said from the front seat.

I looked up. "You think she'll ever forgive me?"

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

"You didn't do this to her, Evelyn."

"But she's lost her fiancé because of me."

"She lost him because of the choices he made."

I wanted to believe him.

I really did.

But Vanessa and I had never been the kind of sisters who could easily put their differences aside. We loved each other, but there had always been an invisible line between us. She was the confident one, the daughter everyone expected to do great things. I was the quieter twin, the one who preferred books and peaceful evenings to crowded parties.

We had fought over silly things growing up. Clothes, friends, attention.

Never a man.

And now, because of one terrible night, I had become the person she would probably hate most.

My father pulled into the driveway and parked.

"Come inside," he said. "We need to talk."

Something about his voice made me hesitate.

He had been angry at the party. I'd expected that. Anyone would have been furious after discovering that another man had marked their daughter against her will.

But the moment Damon mentioned his ancestor, my father's anger had changed.

He had looked frightened.

Not for me.

Of me.

I followed him into the house, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

The sitting room was dark except for the lamp beside the sofa. My father switched it on and gestured for me to sit.

I remained standing.

"Dad, what did Damon mean when he said the mark appeared in his family a hundred years ago?"

He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

His movements stopped.

I had never spoken to him that way before, but I was too exhausted to pretend I hadn't noticed his reaction.

"You looked at my neck like you'd seen something terrible," I continued. "And you practically dragged me out of the ballroom when I asked what it meant."

He turned to face me.

"Evelyn, you've had a difficult night. You need to rest."

"Please don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Treat me like a child whenever you don't want to answer a question."

He stared at me for a long moment.

Then he sighed and sat down.

"There are things about our family that you don't understand."

"Then explain them to me."

"I will. But not tonight."

I laughed bitterly.

"Of course."

I turned away.

"Evelyn."

I stopped.

His voice had softened, and when I looked back, he seemed older than he had that morning.

"I'm trying to protect you."

"From what? My own mate?"

The word felt bitter in my mouth.

My father rubbed a hand over his face.

"Damon isn't your biggest problem right now."

I stared at him.

"How can you say that? He forced himself on me, marked me without my consent, and now my sister hates me. What could possibly be worse?"

He didn't answer.

The silence stretched between us until I could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Then the mark on my neck began to burn.

I gasped and grabbed the back of a chair.

My father was on his feet immediately.

"Evelyn?"

"It hurts."

The warmth beneath my skin grew hotter, spreading from the mark toward my collarbone. I pressed my palm against it, but that only seemed to make the pain sharper.

A strange sensation swept through my body.

For one brief moment, I felt as though someone had reached into my chest and pulled on an invisible thread.

I stumbled.

My father caught me before I fell.

"Get the healer," I whispered.

"I'm taking you to the pack infirmary."

"No. Just call someone."

He didn't listen.

He lifted me into his arms and carried me toward the front door, shouting for the driver.

I buried my face against his shoulder, fighting the tears gathering in my eyes.

I couldn't understand what was happening to me.

I had never experienced anything like this. Even when my wolf had first awakened, the pain hadn't been this intense.

And now my wolf was silent.

Completely silent.

I reached for her instinctively.

Please.

Nothing.

Panic rose in my throat.

Please, say something.

Still nothing.

The mark burned again, and my vision blurred.

Then, just before everything went dark, I heard my father whisper something against my hair.

Something I wasn't supposed to hear.

"Not again. Please, Moon Goddess. Not my daughter."

When I woke up, I was lying in the pack infirmary.

The room smelled of herbs and antiseptic, and a soft light glowed above the bed. My head throbbed, but the burning in my neck had finally subsided.

I tried to sit up.

"Don't move too quickly."

The healer approached my bed, carrying a small tray of medical supplies. Her name was Mara, and she had treated me for everything from childhood fevers to the occasional training injury.

Seeing her familiar face brought a little relief.

"What happened?"

"You fainted. Your father brought you here about an hour ago."

"An hour?"

She nodded.

"Your pulse was unusually fast, and your temperature was higher than normal. I've managed to bring it down."

I touched my neck.

The mark was still there.

It felt slightly raised beneath my fingertips, like a fresh scar.

"Can you remove it?"

Mara's expression changed.

She set the tray aside and pulled a stool beside my bed.

"Evelyn, I need you to understand something. A mate mark isn't a wound in the ordinary sense. It's connected to the bond between two wolves."

"I know that."

"Then you know why removing it won't be simple."

"I don't want the bond. I never asked for it."

"I understand."

"No, you don't." My voice cracked. "He did it without asking me. I told him to stop, and he didn't. Now everyone expects me to accept that we're mates because the Moon Goddess supposedly chose us."

Mara lowered her eyes.

For a moment, I thought she might defend him.

Instead, she reached for my hand.

"What Damon did to you was wrong. A bond doesn't give anyone the right to disregard your wishes."

I swallowed hard.

It was the first time since the marking that someone had said exactly what I needed to hear.

"Can you help me?"

"I'll do everything I can."

She examined the mark with a small silver instrument, then applied a clear liquid to the surrounding skin. It cooled the surface, but the strange warmth beneath it remained.

After several minutes, she stepped back.

"This is unusual."

My stomach tightened.

"What is?"

"The shape."

I leaned forward, trying to see what she was examining.

The mark looked like a crescent surrounded by several thin lines. I'd barely noticed its shape earlier because of the pain, but now I could see that the lines didn't resemble the ordinary mate marks I'd seen on other wolves.

They curved around the crescent in an intricate pattern.

"What does it mean?"

"I can't tell you yet."

"Can you call someone who can?"

Mara hesitated.

Then she picked up her phone.

"I'll contact the senior healer. In the meantime, I want you to stay here until your father returns."

I frowned.

"Where did he go?"

"He received a call shortly after you were admitted. He seemed very upset."

"What call?"

"I don't know."

She gathered her supplies and headed toward the door.

Before leaving, she turned back.

"One more thing, Evelyn."

"What?"

"Has your wolf been communicating with you normally?"

My heart sank.

"No."

"Since when?"

"Since the marking."

Mara's face grew serious.

"Try not to panic. Sometimes, a sudden change in a mate bond can overwhelm a wolf. That doesn't necessarily mean anything permanent has happened."

"But what if she doesn't come back?"

She didn't answer immediately.

"I'll look into it."

Then she left.

I sat alone, staring at the wall.

I wanted to believe Mara's reassurance, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.

My wolf had been restless around Damon for weeks. She had recognized him before I understood why, but she'd never gone silent like this.

Now I couldn't feel her at all.

I closed my eyes and reached for the familiar presence inside me.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Still nothing.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"Please come back," I whispered.

The door opened.

I quickly wiped my face, expecting Mara to return.

Instead, my father walked in.

He looked exhausted. His hair was untidy, and he had changed out of his formal clothes into a dark sweater and trousers.

He pulled a chair beside my bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Good."

I watched him carefully.