My Sister's Mate

Visibly Damned

I crouched low, placing the balm, cool in my palm, mockingly gentle, right beside the heavy oak door of his chamber. I didn’t leave a note. I wasn’t feeling poetic. I wasn’t feeling much of anything except anger smothered under a blanket of restraint.

As I straightened, the door creaked open, and I crashed straight into a wall of solid heat and muscle.

A breath hitched in my throat.

Two hands shot out, gripping my arms. Firm. Unyielding. Too familiar.

Kieran.

Bare, chested. Skin slick with water. Brown hair damp and curling at the ends. Eyes silver and sharp, like he’d just been pulled from the edge of something wild. Something I shouldn’t want to know.

For a second, the world froze.

My breath. My body. His stare.

Then I yanked myself back like his touch had burned me. Maybe it had.

“I don’t take handouts,” I said, voice laced with steel, trying to ignore the thundering of my pulse. “Especially not from ghost-alphas who only appear when there’s blood to mop up.”

His brow ticked up, slowly, infuriatingly. “It wasn’t a handout.”

“No?” I tilted my chin. “Then what was it? A guilt-soaked gesture from on high? A balm for your conscience more than my wounds?”

“Maybe,” he said, eyes glittering, “I just got tired of smelling your blood every time you passed.”

I bristled. “How poetic. Chivalry’s corpse just twitched.”

His gaze dropped to the balm at his feet. Then slid back up to me. “You’re the only one offended by someone giving a damn.”

“You didn’t give a damn when your mate nearly broke my spine,” I bit back.

That smirk. That damned crooked half, smile that never reached his eyes. The one that made me want to slap him. Or kiss him. Or both.

“Maybe I’m watching when it matters most,” he said quietly.

“Then your idea of ‘matters’ is as warped as your moral compass.”

His jaw flexed.

“You didn’t have to bring it back,” he said.

“I didn’t want to owe you.”

“You don’t.”

“Good.”

He moved, just a step, but it was enough to suck the air from my lungs. The space between us crackled. Charged. His heat kissed my skin, and I hated how aware I was of every inch of him.

“Why do you push so hard?” he asked, voice low and rough.

I opened my mouth, then froze.

A door creaked open somewhere down the corridor.

My heart jolted. I turned my head sharply toward the sound. Julia. It could be Julia.

Panic bloomed, irrational and fierce. The last thing I needed was to be seen red-faced, standing outside Kieran’s door like I belonged there.

I didn’t think.

I shoved past him and slipped into the Alpha’s chambers.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, and the moment it did, the air shifted, thicker, darker. Like stepping into a storm.

I turned.

Kieran stood with his back against the door, arms folded. Silent. Unmoving.

Predator stillness. As if amused that I’d walked straight into his den.

My heart thundered. Not with fear. With fury. And something far more dangerous.

Want.

The space was dark wood and stone, private and sharp. Weapons lined the far wall, glinting like teeth. His bed was massive, messy, untouched. His scent was everywhere, smoke, salt, the faintest hint of something pine, wild and male.

“You’ve made yourself at home,” he said, voice smooth, almost lazy.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just didn’t want Julia to see me.”

“She wouldn’t have. She’s not in my wing.”

I blinked.

He pushed off the door and stepped closer. Slow. Controlled. “Contrary to what you clearly think, she doesn’t sleep here.”

“Not what I meant,” I lied, too quickly.

His eyes narrowed, amused. “Really? Because you looked ready to bolt like I was about to drag you inside.”

I crossed my arms, fists clenched tight. “If you tried, you’d lose a hand.”

“I’d let you try,” he murmured.

A shiver ran up my spine.

There was a shift then. The air grew hotter, denser. Like something unspoken had taken root between us and dared us to name it.

His eyes flicked to my mouth. Lingered.

I stepped back. He stepped forward.

The space between us disappeared. My back hit the edge of his desk.

“I don’t fear you.”

“You should.”

“Why?” I snapped. “Because you’re stronger? Colder? Because you hide your cruelty behind silence and sharp smiles?”

“No,” he said. And this time, his voice wasn’t cold. It was soft. Dangerous. “Because one day, you're going to want something you can’t take back. And when that day comes... you'll come to me for it.”

My breath caught.

His eyes dropped to my throat, tracing the line of my pulse with nothing but a glance.

“You already do,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Even if you hate it.”

My knees trembled. I hated how my body betrayed me, how it leaned in, just slightly, like it couldn’t help itself.

I turned away, needing distance. Clarity. Anything.

But his scent clung to the air, earth and steel and something forbidden. His journals were stacked neatly beside a blade. A single candle burned low on the dresser.

And when I turned back,

He was there.

Too close. Again.

Chest bare. Eyes fixed. Energy coiled like a strike waiting to happen.

I should have moved. Should have run.

But I didn’t.

His gaze fell to my lips again.

And gods help me, I didn’t want to stop him.

The silence buzzed like a live wire between us.

I stepped sideways, reached for the door. My fingers curled around the knob.

He didn’t stop me.

But his voice followed, soft and brutal.

“Next time you want to return something... knock.”

I opened the door and slipped out,

And froze.

Lena stood a few feet away, holding a stack of books.

Her eyes flicked from me to the door I’d just exited. Then to the balm still sitting on the floor like a damning relic.

A smirk tugged at her lips.

She didn’t say a word.

Just turned.

And kept walking.

I didn’t stop walking until I reached the edge of the grounds, past the main halls, through the narrow-cracked path that led to the quarters meant for the dispensable.

Home sweet hell.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The air was still. Dusty. My boots scraped against the floor as I made my way to the basin. I splashed my face with water that was only slightly colder than lukewarm. It helped. A little. The heat of Kieran’s nearness still clung to my skin like smoke.

God.

A soft knock tapped at my door.

Then it opened, because boundaries didn’t exist in Lena’s world.

“I saw you come in,” she said, her voice singsong as she stepped inside, arms crossed, grin wide. “And I saw where you came from.”

I didn’t look at her. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I won’t,” she said, kicking the door shut behind her. “I mean, who am I to judge? I often leave random balms outside the doors of sexy alphas too. Very casual. Very platonic.”

I turned sharply. “He opened the door. I wasn’t expecting....”

“Right, right,” Lena interrupted, plopping onto the rickety chair like it was a throne. “And I just happen to wear silk dresses for training drills. Totally accidental.”

My glare didn’t faze her in the slightest. She leaned back, examining her nails.

“You’ve got that look,” she added, smirking. “The ‘I got too close to fire but I kinda liked the burn’ look.”

“I hate him,” I said, venom sharp in my voice.

“Mm. Sure,” Lena drawled. “And that breathless look you had on was purely from exercise?”

I was saved, or cursed, by the sudden creak of the door again.

This time, Julia.

Of course.

Perfect makeup. Perfect poise. And a voice dipped in honey and poison.

“Well, look who’s upright and breathing,” Julia said, her smile too sweet. “How’s your knees and hand, Ava? Still functional after yesterday’s little... trip?”

I stiffened.

Lena didn’t even try to hide her scoff. “Wow, Julia. Concern looks great on you. Almost believable.”

Julia’s smile thinned. “Just being thoughtful. Falls like that can be so damaging. Especially there's no one to fuss over you properly.”

I crossed my arms. “What do you want?”

“To check in,” she said, stepping further into the space like she owned it. Her eyes skimmed over the walls, the single mattress, the chipped table. “Though I suppose this place is exactly your speed. Humble. Wounded bird chic.”

“Maybe try working on your subtlety,” Lena muttered. “Your claws are showing.”

Julia’s eyes snapped to her, but her voice stayed calm. “I must say, it’s impressive. You bounce back quickly. I could’ve sworn I saw you near the Alpha’s chambers this morning.” Her gaze slid to me. “But maybe I imagined it.”

Lena blinked. “Oh, she definitely wasn’t, ”

“I wasn’t asking you, Lena,” Julia said sharply, the smile slipping now. “I saw her. Which makes me curious, considering she should’ve been recovering. Unless, of course...” Her eyes met mine. “You found a more... efficient method of healing.”

The implication hung in the air like smoke.

My jaw clenched. I said nothing.

Lena, however, wasn’t built for silence.

“God, you’re exhausting,” she snapped. “Do you spend all day rehearsing this petty theatre or does it just come naturally?”

Julia turned, slow and deliberate. “You’d do well to remember who you’re speaking to.”

“And you’d do well to stop slithering into places you’re not invited,” Lena shot back.

Tension cracked through the room like a whip.

Julia’s lips curved again. But her eyes were sharp now, livid beneath the gloss.

“I’m here for a reason,” Julia said suddenly, turning her focus to me. “You’ve been assigned as the liaison for the alliance envoy arriving soon.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Your job is simple. You’ll speak to the alliance envoy when needed, handle menial exchanges, and escort the delegation during their stay. Think of it as... penance.”

My chest tightened. Liaison? That was a position of visibility, of scrutiny.

Lena’s brows lifted. “Does the Alpha know?”

Julia’s mouth sharpened into a blade. “I approved it. That’s what matters.”

Silence.

Lena tilted her head, smile unfurling slow and wicked. “Right. Because you're Luna. And that’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Julia’s voice turned to ice. “Yes Lena, it is.”

I swallowed, pulse thudding.

Julia stepped closer, her perfume thick and sickly sweet. “Be ready. You’ll be briefed properly later. I suggest you don’t embarrass us.”

And then she was gone, her scent lingering long after the door clicked shut.

Lena exhaled. “Impressive. Even for her.”

I wasn’t listening. Julia’s words echoed in my head.

Lena’s gaze followed mine. “What now?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, who knows what she's planning.”

A chill crawled down my spine. The real danger was only beginning.