My Sister Stole My Husband, Fate Gave Me Two Alpha Dons

Chapter 1 Evelyn’s POV The champagne bottle slipped from my fingers and shattered across the marble floor the moment I saw my husband’s bare back moving in sync with my sister’s naked body. For three seconds, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The red rose petals I’d scattered on our bed that morning were crushed beneath them. They were tangled on the special occasion silk sheets that I changed this morning to celebrate this memorable day, There were small moaning sounds coming from her, the words were almost a whisper, but I could still hear it, every bit of it. “Yes Marcus, oh baby, tell me I’m the best.” She had asked between shaky breaths of pleasure. “You know that you’re the absolute best thing that happened to me..” Marcus replied immediately amidst Moans. Though my eyes was seeing the two, my mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening, to say I was hurt would be an understatement. “Marcus?” I found myself calling him in disbelief. My voice was barely a whisper, yet they heard me because they both froze and stopped moving. Time seemed to slow down as my fated husband, my husband of three years, turned his head toward me for the first time this evening. His dark hair was messy, his face flushed, and for one insane moment, I thought I saw guilt flash across his features. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Evelyn.” He didn’t even have the decency to sound surprised. He simply said my name like I was an inconvenience. Like I was the one interrupting something important. I looked pass him at the lady he was in bed with. My baby sister, twenty two year old Isabelle with her perfect blonde hair and perfect body, didn’t even bother to cover herself. She sat up slowly, deliberately, letting the sheet fall away from her bare breasts. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face. That smile destroyed something in me. “You’re home early,” Marcus said, climbing off Isabelle, with the casual indifference of someone who’d been caught eating the last slice of cake, not destroying his marriage. “I wanted to surprise you.” My voice shook so badly I barely recognized it. “It’s our anniversary. Three years. I made dinner reservations at Marcello’s. I bought you a gift. I…” I looked down at my hands. The expensive watch I had to save for six months of overtime shifts at the hospital, was still in my purse. I’d been so excited to give it to him. So stupidly, pathetically excited. “Oh, sweetie.” Isabelle’s voice was sickeningly sweet as she stretched like a satisfied cat. “Did no one tell you?” “Shut up, Bella,” Marcus snapped, finally reaching for his boxers. But my sister, the girl I’d raised after our father died, the girl I’d put through college while working two jobs, the girl I’d loved more than anyone except our mother, ignored him. She smiled brightly. “Tell me what?” I heard myself ask, even though every instinct screams. ‘Do not hear whatever comes next, just run.’ It screamed, but I didn’t listen. Isabelle stood up, wrapping the sheet around herself like a goddess draped in silk, walked toward me until she was so close that I stumbled backward, my heel crunching on broken glass. But the pain I felt on my feet was far less than the one in my heart, yet I still couldn’t run away. “Marcus and I have been together for over a year now.” She tilted her head, studying my face like I was a fascinating science experiment. “Actually, if we’re being honest, we were together before your wedding. Remember when I helped you pick out your dress? When I was your maid of honor?” She laughed. “He was texting me the entire time. We even hooked up in the coat room during your reception. You were so busy being the perfect omega bride, you didn’t notice your new husband disappearing for twenty minutes.” She chucked. The room spun, my knees buckled, and I grabbed the doorframe to stay upright after this revelation. “That’s not true…” I looked at Marcus, begging him with my eyes to tell me she was lying. To tell me this was some sick joke. “Marcus, tell me she’s lying. Please.” I pleaded. Yet Marcus didn’t prove her wrong, instead, he had the audacity to be annoyed. “Don’t be dramatic, Evelyn.” He pulled on his pants, not even meeting my eyes. “You had to know this wasn’t working, you should be grateful that someone with my status even took you in , a boring omega like you “ “What?” I asked truly confused. The word came out as a sob. “We were fine! We were happy! I love you!” “No.” His voice was cold, flat, final. “You were comfortable. There’s a difference.” He walked to his nightstand, what used to be our nightstand, in our bedroom, in the home we’d built together, and pulled out a manila envelope. He threw it on the bed. “I reject you as my mate and I want a divorce.” He announced with great pride, relieve and certainty. The words hit me like a physical blow. I actually felt my heart crack. A sharp, searing pain in my chest that made it impossible to breathe. “A divorce?” I repeated stupidly. “You want a divorce?” “Sign the papers, Evelyn. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He shrugged. “Harder than it needs to be?” My voice was rising now, hysteria creeping in. “You’re sleeping with my sister! In our bed! On our anniversary! And I’m making this hard?” I practically shouted, so annoyed that he couldn’t see how wrong he was. “Oh, for God’s sake.” Marcus ran a hand through his hair, looking at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum over a spilled milk. “This is exactly why I’m leaving you. You’re so exhausting. Everything is a drama with you.” He said. “I’m exhausted?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I worked sixty hour weeks to put you through business school! I gave up my dream of becoming a doctor and a healer in our Pack so you could start your company! I’ve done nothing but support you for five years!” I reminded him. “And you never let me forget it, did you?” He stepped closer, his face twisted with something that looked like disgust. “Poor Evelyn, sacrificing everything for her ungrateful husband. You wore your martyrdom like a crown, and I’m sick of it.” Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and angry and desperate. “How can you say that? I loved you. I still love you!” I tried to reason with him. “Well, I don’t love you.” He said the words I dreaded hearing. Five words. That’s all it took to shatter seven years of my life. “I never really did, if I’m honest,” he continued, and each word was a knife twisting deeper. “You were convenient, sweet and eager to please. But Bella…” He glanced at my sister, and his expression softened in a way it never had for me. “Bella is exciting. She’s passionate. She makes me feel alive.” His countenance brightened when he spoke about Bella. “I’m also pregnant.” Isabelle’s voice cut through the room like a gunshot. Everything stopped. My heart. My breath. Time itself. “What?” I whispered. She placed a hand on her still flat stomach, that cruel smile widening. “Three months along. We’re getting married next month during the blood moon festival and I will be his second chance mate , so you better behave “She blushed as if envisioning it. “We don’t want to upset Mom, so we thought it would be better to just move forward quickly.” She blushed and gave Marcus a side glance. I couldn’t speak I couldn't think, process or make sense of what she was saying. My knees finally gave out. Darkness swallowed my vision. The last thing I heard before I hit the floor was my sister laughing.