My Sister's Mate

The Rumors

I followed my father down the hall in silence, the click of his boots a steady drumbeat of dread. Everything felt heavy, like walking through water that thickened the closer we got to his office.

When we stepped inside, he didn’t ask me to sit. He didn’t have to.

The door shut behind me with a quiet thud. He moved to the window, clasping his hands behind his back like he always did when something was weighing on him. I hated that stance.

“What happened today, Ava?”

His voice was calm, but it curled around my ribs like a vice. I lifted my chin anyway.

“I lost control during the match with Rhys,” I said, voice steady. “It won’t happen again.”

“You know I’m not just talking about Rhys.”

The air stilled. I felt it in my gut, the shift. His words hit harder because he didn’t raise his voice. Because he didn’t accuse. He just knew.

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.

“Did you ask Kieran to intervene? ” he continued, finally turning to face me. His gray eyes were sharp, but not cruel.

I blinked. “No. He just, did.”

A long silence followed. The kind that stretched taut, waiting to snap.

“You may think you're just a trainee,” he said finally, voice sharper now. “But you’re not. You’re my daughter. And more importantly, you’re the sister of the Alpha’s mate.”

I hated how those words felt like a noose tightening around my throat.

“You know how this looks, Ava,” he continued, stepping closer. “You fight Rhys like your life depends on it, Kieran steps in, and now half the pack thinks there’s something going on between you two.”

I stiffened. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Perception doesn’t care about truth,” he said sharply. “It spreads faster than wildfire and burns twice as deep.”

His words stung, more than I expected. I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze to the stone floor. I wasn’t a child anymore. But in this moment, I felt like one.

Then, his voice softened.

“I know your heart,” he said gently. “You are strong. Even when you don’t look like it. Unapologetically yourself. But sometimes, Ava, those are the very traits that get you noticed for the wrong reasons.”

My throat tightened, and I hated how much I needed to hear what came next.

He stepped closer and placed a callused hand on my shoulder. “You are not in trouble. But you are in danger of becoming the story instead of writing your own. Stay clear of Kieran, for now. Let this storm pass. It will, eventually.”

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. But I let his hand rest there for a second longer than necessary before pulling away with a nod.

“Alright,” I murmured.

Elias let out a quiet sigh, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder before he pulled away. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Ava. I’m trying to protect you. We all are.”

His words, though gentle, stung more than anything.

As I turned to leave, I caught the faintest hint of sorrow in my father's eyes. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, but in that brief moment, I realized something, he wasn’t just my father. He was Elder Elias. And that meant the weight of his decisions could never be mine to carry.

By sunrise, the whispers had teeth.

“She cornered him after training,” someone murmured near the stables.

“I heard she touched his chest, right in front of everyone.”

“They say she begged him not to choose Julia.”

It spread like wildfire, fueled by innuendo, laced with venom. By breakfast, I wasn’t Ava, daughter of Elder Elias. I was the desperate sister who seduced her Alpha. The traitor who couldn’t bear to let her sister have something she couldn’t.

By midday, they weren’t even whispering anymore.

“She probably provoked Rhys just to get Kieran’s attention,” one girl snickered as I passed. “Worked like a charm. She’s always been good at playing weak.”

My fists curled. It wasn’t the lies—it was the way they looked at me, like I deserved the humiliation. Like they’d always suspected I was nothing but the jealous sister.

Pathetic. Unwanted. Second-best.

I ducked behind the herb sheds, needing a breath that didn’t taste like smoke and shame. Leaned against the wall. Closed my eyes.

I didn’t cry. Not here. Not for them.

“Ava,” came a voice, breathless and urgent.

Lena barreled toward me, eyes wide with worry, Selene just behind her—graceful, composed, but tense.

“You should be somewhere private,” Selene murmured, touching my arm.

“Why?” I muttered. “So I can fall apart out of sight?”

“You’ve held it together better than most would,” Lena said, arms crossed. “Frankly, I’d have punched someone.”

I huffed. Almost smiled.

“They think I seduced Kieran,” I whispered. “Like I plotted this.”

“They don’t need truth,” Selene said gently. “Only a reason to turn.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “You? Seduce someone? You flinch when a guy says nice boots. They act like Kieran’s a child who can’t make a decision. Like you’ve bewitched him or something. You’re not even his type, no offense.”

I snorted. “None taken. I’m not even my own type.”

Lena leaned her head against my shoulder with a sigh. “This pack needs a hobby.”

Selene gave her a look, but her hand remained warm on my arm. “Let them talk, Ava. They’ll get bored eventually. And if they don’t…” Her eyes narrowed. “We’ll outlast them anyway.”

I felt something loosen in my chest at her words. A quiet, unspoken permission to not be okay, but to still endure. That was what Selene offered best: not solutions, but presence. And Lena, in her chaotic way, gave me levity. Together, they gave me a reason not to fall apart.

I didn’t know what would come next. But in that moment, I realized I still had something solid. Two women who stood by me, even when the rest of the world turned its back.

And for now, that had to be enough.

I wasn’t supposed to be near the council chambers, but that didn’t stop me from lingering in the corridor like a shadow.

The doors were thick oak, reinforced to keep whispers inside and ears like mine out. But voices, especially performative ones, had a way of slipping through cracks when they wanted an audience.

And Julia always wanted an audience.

“I never expected it to escalate like this,” she said, her voice tremulous, thick with fragile emotion. “She’s my sister. I love her. I just… I don’t recognize her anymore.”

I closed my eyes. She was good. I’d give her that. She knew just when to let her voice waver, how to thread sorrow between syllables like embroidery, how to sound heartbroken instead of victorious.

“She was always so quiet. So kind. But lately… it’s like she’s become someone else.”

That line landed heavy. Not just because it was a lie, but because it was a strategic one.

Another voice followed, Elder Corwin, deep and even. “You’re saying this began before the incident with Rhys?”

“I think she’s been… struggling for a while,” Julia answered delicately. “But I didn’t want to bring it to the council. I thought she’d find her way back.”

The ‘incident with Rhys’, as if my bruised ribs and swollen lip were a minor footnote. As if the real concern was the distraction I had become.

“She didn’t even fight back,” someone muttered. “And the Alpha intervened. That’s what raised suspicion.”

Julia let out a soft, carefully measured sigh. “That’s when I knew it was beyond sibling rivalry. Ava’s always been strong. But now? She’s using weakness to get attention. From Kieran.”

From Kieran.

There it was, spoken like truth, punctuated with pity.

The silence that followed was thick, contemplative.

Then Elder Miriam spoke. “This is delicate. Kieran is your mate. Ava is your blood. If this becomes a spectacle, ”

“It already is,” Julia said, with just the right note of resignation. “People are whispering. Speculating. It’s tearing the pack apart especially as I’m not yet marked, and I just… I couldn’t stay silent.”

It was masterful. I could picture her dabbing a tear with a silk handkerchief, not a hair out of place, grief painted across her face like an artist’s final stroke.

“She approached him after training,” Julia continued. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I saw it with my own eyes. She was crying. Touching him. Pleading.”

That never happened.

But truth didn’t matter when the lie was easier to swallow.

“That’s enough.” The voice that cut her off was familiar. Deep, measured.

My father.

Elder Elias.

There was a shuffle of fabric, maybe a chair pushed back.

“I understand Julia’s concerns,” he said, his voice quiet but steady, “but let’s not rush to conclusions. Ava has always held herself with dignity, even when others don’t see it. We are speaking about my daughter. I won’t sit silently while her character is twisted by rumors.”

My chest swelled. For a moment, I leaned closer to the door, desperate to hear more.

“I don’t think she’s doing this intentionally,” Julia said, softer now, folding guilt into her tone like an art. “But it’s affecting the pack. The girls at training are whispering.”

The implication coiled around the room like smoke.

“She was attacked by Rhys,” Father countered, firmer this time. “Let’s not forget that. She didn’t provoke him, she was paired with him, and he lost control.”

“And Kieran stepped in immediately,” Julia murmured. “Almost as if he felt the need to protect her.”

The silence after that said everything.

“I’m not suggesting we punish her,” she added quickly. “I’m just asking that we… help her refocus. Somewhere quieter. Away from the tension.”

“She needs discipline,” another elder added, one of the old ones who always looked at me like I’d been born too wild. “Not sympathy.”

“And what do you suggest?” Elder Miriam asked, her voice neutral but edged.

The answer came from Elder Corwin, the one who always measured unity above truth. “Remove her from training. Let her regroup under structured labor. Supply duty, perhaps.”

“No,” Father said instantly, rising to his feet. I could picture it, his clenched jaw, the storm in his eyes. “She belongs in the field. That’s where she learns best.”

“With whom?” Elder Miriam asked coolly. “Rhys? The others who no longer trust her?”

Another long pause.

“This isn’t about punishment,” she continued. “It’s about stability. Let her step away from the rumors. Let her earn her way back.”

Father didn’t speak again. And somehow, that silence shattered me more than the words did.

Julia’s voice followed like honey poured over fire.

“I only want what’s best for her.”

And just like that, the council made its decision.

I turned away from the door, my spine stiff, heart hammering behind my ribs like a caged thing.

They were exiling me with a smile.

Stripping me of necessities under the guise of mercy.

And Julia? She was the one holding the knife.