My Sister's Mate

Shattered Silence

I didn’t know if it was his breath or mine clouding the space between us, but the heat wasn’t from proximity alone.

It was him.

Kieran.

Caging me in with his body, fists clenched at either side of my head, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

He wasn’t touching me, but gods, I felt everything.

The fury. The restraint. The war inside him.

His lips were parted. Chest rising too fast.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he said, voice low, too low, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else but me. “One of these days, you’ll regret it.”

My heart slammed in my chest.

I wanted to ask what he meant.

But I was afraid of the answer.

His eyes dropped, to my mouth.

Only for a second.

Barely noticeable. But I saw it.

He was thinking about it.

Kissing me.

Claiming me.

Ruining us both.

His nostrils flared. His hands twitched.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t touch.

He stepped closer, just enough that the heat of his body reached mine. My breath hitched.

"You don’t get it, do you?" he murmured. "You’re a goddamn problem I don’t know how to fix."

My throat tightened. “Then stop trying.”

Another beat of silence passed. Then his tone shifted, just slightly. “You’re hurt.”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Sharp eyes, Alpha.”

“Ava, ”

“I’m fine,” I cut in. “Just bruises. Nothing that won't fade.”

I finally looked up.

Kieran was standing a few paces away, his broad frame outlined by the soft golden haze breaking through the trees. His eyes raked over me, over the split lip, the bruises, the way I was cradling my side without meaning to.

Something flickered in his gaze. Anger? Guilt? Concern?

“I warned them to keep the training fair,” he said, jaw tight.

I huffed a breath. “Since when has anything ever been fair for me?”

He took a step closer. I tensed. He noticed.

“I’m not going to touch you,” he said softly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I said, more bitterly than I meant to.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. His eyes darkened, storm clouds barely held at bay.

And still, he stepped closer. Then closer still, until he knelt in front of me.

“Let me see,” he said quietly, nodding toward my ribs.

I hesitated, lips parting in disbelief. “Why? So you can assess the damage you didn’t cause but still feel entitled to control?”

His expression didn’t change. “Because I need to know if you’re okay.”

My breath caught.

So simple. So bare. So not Kieran.

And gods help me, I let him.

I lifted the edge of my shirt just high enough to reveal the worst of the bruising. His eyes dropped, and I saw his throat work, just once. He didn’t touch me. Not even when I winced.

But his voice turned to steel. “He did this to you during training?”

I nodded.

He stood abruptly and ran a hand through his hair. “I should’ve…”

“What? Intervened sooner? Beat Rhys up faster? Humiliated me more thoroughly in front of the whole pack?”

His shoulders hunched, and for a second, he looked almost… lost.

“I didn’t think he’d go that far.”

I laughed again, dry and cracked. “Because you don’t think about me at all. Except when I’m bleeding or in your way.”

His head snapped toward me, eyes blazing. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

The space between us buzzed with something I couldn’t name. Anger. Frustration. Longing. Regret. All of it tangled in the silence that stretched too long between two people who weren’t supposed to feel anything at all.

Then quietly, he said, “He’ll answer for this.”

“I don’t need you to avenge me, Kieran,” I said, pulling my shirt back down, painfully aware of every movement. “I need you to stop making things worse.”

His jaw clenched again.

I didn’t expect an apology. And I didn’t get one.

Instead, he crouched down again, closer this time, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, wolfroot balm, the healing kind, and gently placed it beside me.

“For the bruises,” he said gruffly. “Use it tonight.”

I drew a breath and asked, softly, “What are we even doing?”

Kieran stilled.

I saw the shift in him, the way his body froze, like he was calculating every possible response. Thinking of every word he could say that wouldn’t give him away.

But I pushed anyway. “You keep acting like this. Protecting me. Trying to patch me up. Watching me when you think I’m not looking. And then you pull back. Like you’re afraid of what it means.”

He said nothing.

My voice cracked. “Are you afraid, Kieran?”

“I’m not afraid,” he said, but it was quiet. Tense. “I’m being smart.”

I laughed, dry and bitter. “So smart you’re lying to both of us.”

He rose to his feet slowly, towering over me, but I didn’t flinch.

I stayed rooted to the spot.

“If there’s nothing between us,” I continued, “then why haven’t you marked Julia?”

The words hit the air like a strike of lightning.

Kieran’s shoulders tensed. His expression shifted into something unreadable.

“I’m serious,” I said. “It’s what’s expected, right? You’re supposed to mark her. Seal the bond. Finish what the ceremony started.”

His eyes met mine, steel and fire.

“It’s none of your concern.”

“But it is,” I said, my voice trembling. “Because I see the way you look at me. And maybe it’s not real. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s all in my head. But if that’s true… then why, why can’t you do it?”

Silence.

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t even try.

And that was worse than any lie.

“I asked you a question,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, just one. And when he opened them again, they were colder. Sharper. Like the wall between us had come crashing back into place.

“You’re Ava,” he said. “My mate’s sister. My sister, in, law. Nothing more.”

The words cut, clean and deep.

But they didn’t feel true.

Not if the way he touched me meant anything.

Not if the hesitation in his voice was real.

I nodded slowly, a bitter smile forming despite the sting in my chest.

“Thanks for the balm,” I said, voice soft, wrapping my hand around the small glass vial as if it were some strange, fragile gift. “Next time, just send it through Sebastian. Or better yet, don’t.”

I stood, or tried to. My ribs protested, but I managed to mask the pain with sheer will. I didn’t need him seeing me as weak, again.

Kieran didn’t say anything. He just watched me with that same damned expression I couldn’t name. Not quite anger. Not quite regret. Something sharp and messy and full of heat, hidden behind cold eyes.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of another glance.

I walked away, slow and steady. And not once did I look back.

The forest thinned as I neared the edge of the training field. Most of the warriors were already gone, Sebastian must’ve dismissed them early, probably after that scene with Rhys. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to see smug glances or sympathetic stares.

But one figure remained.

Lena.

She sat cross, legged on a boulder just past the tree line, picking at her boot with a twig, like she’d been doing absolutely nothing of importance for the past hour.

When she spotted me, her face lit up like the goddess had personally flipped a switch in her brain.

“There she is,” she called out. “The woman of the hour. The gladiator. The bruised and beautiful martyr of Blackthorn!”

I blinked, dragging my tired limbs toward her. “You waited?”

She scoffed. “Of course I did. I’m not heartless. Also, Sebastian scared me off the field with his whole ‘leave now or be turned into mulch’ look, so I figured I’d wait for my favorite punching bag, s***h, bestie.”

Despite everything, despite the pain lacing through my ribs and the ache still clinging to my chest, I smiled. Just a little.

She hopped off the boulder and walked beside me like we were taking a casual stroll through paradise, not limping away from an emotional breakdown and a borderline illegal training session.

“So?” she asked, tone deceptively light. “What did the brooding bastard want? Let me guess, he offered to kiss it better and then ran off to brood in the woods again?”

I shot her a look, and she raised her hands.

“Kidding. Sort of. Mostly. Maybe.”

I didn’t answer right away. The silence between us stretched as we moved past the thinning trees, the distant hum of life returning the closer we got to the heart of the packgrounds.

She sobered.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not physically,” I muttered.

“Seriously. What is it with you and that man? He’s supposed to be bonded to your sister, and yet every time you limp, he twitches like he’s the one in pain. The tension is criminal.”

I didn’t respond. My footsteps slowed for a beat, but I kept moving, drawn forward by the familiar scent of the pack and the echo of duty that always seemed to find me.

She followed, her voice softening. “Come on. Spill. Are you in love with him? Because if you are, I’ll support you. Just give me time to grab popcorn first.”

“I’m not in love with him,” I muttered. “I’m… I don’t know what I am.”

Lena tilted her head as we crossed into the main grounds, passing the training compound on our left. “Conflicted. Bruised. Possibly emotionally constipated?”

“Thanks,” I said, dry.

“I’m serious, Ava. You think you’re the only one tangled in this mess? Kieran’s unraveling. I saw his face when Rhys hit you. That man looked seconds away from murder.”

“He did rip Rhys apart with words.”

“Exactly. And that wasn’t just rage. That was something deeper. Darker. Mate-level possessiveness.”

I stopped near the edge of the central courtyard and turned to her. “He’s not my mate, Lena.”

“No,” she said, folding her arms. “But if looks could mark people, you’d already have his name etched into your soul.”

I didn’t have a response for that.

But I didn’t need one.

Because just then, a familiar voice, calm, steady, and laced with something unreadable, cut across the courtyard.

“Ava.”

I stiffened.

Lena’s eyes widened slightly. “Uh oh.”

I turned slowly to see my father standing just beyond the training hall steps, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable in that unnervingly composed Elder Elias way.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

“I’d like a word,” he said.

And that was how I knew, whatever peace I thought I’d earned on that walk… was about to unravel.